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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41518 ***
+
+The Battle of Sempach
+
+A Story
+By
+Robert Walser (1878-1956)
+
+Berlin.
+The Future Press.
+1908.
+
+One day, in the middle of high summer, a military expedition was
+advancing slowly down the dusty country road that led towards a
+district of Luzern.  The bright, actually more than bright, sun
+dazzled down over swaying armour serving to cover human bodies,
+over prancing horses, over helmets and parts of faces, over equine
+heads and tails, over ornaments and plumes and stirrups as big as
+snowshoes.  To the right and to the left of the shining military
+expedition spread out meadows with thousands of fruit trees in them
+up as far as hills that, looming up out of the blue-smelling, half-hazy
+distance, beckoned and had the same effect as light and carefully
+painted window dressing.  It was before noon and the heat was already
+oppressive.  It was a meadowy heat, a heat contained in grass, hay
+and dust, for thick clouds of dust were being thrown up that sometimes
+descended like a veil over parts and sections of the army. Sluggishly,
+ploddingly, carelessly the long cavalcade moved forward. Sometimes
+it looked like a shimmering and elongated snake, sometimes like a
+lizard of enormous girth, sometimes like a large piece of cloth,
+richly embroidered with figures and colourful shapes and ceremoniously
+trailed as with ladies, elderly and domineering ones as far as I'm
+concerned, accustomed to dragging trains behind them.  In all this
+military might's method and way of doing things, in the stamping of
+feet and the clinking of weapons, in this rough and ready clatter
+lurked an "as far as I'm concerned" that was uniform, something
+impudent, full of confidence, something upsetting, slowly pushing to
+one side.  All these knights were conversing, as far as their iron-clad
+mouths would allow them, in joyful verbal banter with each other.
+Peals of laughter rang out and this sound was admirably suited to
+the bright tones emitted by weapons and chains and golden belts. The
+morning sun still appeared to caress a good deal of brass and finer
+metal.  The sounds of tin whistles flew sunward.  Now and again one
+of the many footmen walking as if on stilts would tender to his
+mounted lord a delicate titbit, stuck on a silver fork, right up to his
+swaying saddle. Wine was drunk on the move, poultry consumed
+and nothing edible spat out, with an easy-going, carefree amiability,
+for this was no earnest war involving chivalry they were riding to, but
+more of a punitive expedition, a statutory rape, bloody, scornful,
+histrionic things.  Everybody there thought so and everybody saw
+already the heap of cut-off heads that would redden the meadow.
+Among the leaders of the expedition was many a wonderful noble
+young man splendidly attired, sitting on horseback like a male angel
+flown down from a blue uncertain heaven.  Many a one had taken
+off his helmet to make things more comfortable for himself and given
+it to an attendant to carry.  By doing so he displayed to the air a
+peculiarly finely drawn face that was a mixture of innocence and
+exuberance.  They were telling the latest jokes and discussing the
+most up-to-date stories of courtly women.  The serious ones in their
+company they tolerated as best they could; it seemed today as if
+a pensive expression was deemed to be improper and unchivalrous.
+The hair of the young knights who had taken their helmets off, shone
+and smelt of oil and unguents and sweet-smelling water that they had
+poured on it as if it had been a matter of riding to visit a coquette to
+sing her charming love songs.  Their hands, from which the iron
+gauntlets had been taken off, did not look like those of warriors,
+but manicured and pampered, slender and white like the hands of
+young girls.
+
+Only one person in the wild procession was serious. Already his
+outward appearance, armour that was deep black broken up with
+tender gold, indicated how the person it covered thought.  He was the
+noble Duke Leopold of Austria.  This man did not speak a word and
+seemed completely lost in anxious thoughts.  His face looked like that
+of a person who is being pestered by a fly that is impudently flying
+round his eye.  This fly may well have been a presentiment that
+something bad was going to happen for a smile that was permanently
+both contemptuous and sad played over his mouth. He kept his head
+lowered.  The whole world, however cheerful it looked, seemed to him
+to roll and thunder angrily. Or was it just the thunder of the
+trampling hooves of horses as the army was now passing over a wooden
+bridge that spanned the river Reuss?  Nevertheless something
+foreshadowing misfortune hovered horribly around the duke's bodily
+form.
+
+*             *              *
+
+The army stopped near the little town of Sempach. It was now about
+two o'clock in the afternoon.  It may have been three o'clock.  It was
+a matter of indifference to the knights what the time might be. As far
+as they were concerned it could have been eight o'clock at night--they
+would have found that quite in order. They were already terribly bored
+and found even the slightest trace of military discipline laughable.  It
+was a dull moment.  It was like a parade ground manoeuvre how they
+jumped from their saddles to take up a position. No-one wanted to
+laugh any more.  They had already laughed so much.  Yawning and
+exhaustion had set in.  Even the horses seemed to understand that
+all one could do now was yawn.  The servants on foot tucked into
+the remnants of the food and wine, quaffed and scoffed what there
+was still left to scoff and quaff. How ridiculous this whole
+expedition appeared to all concerned!  This shabby little town that
+was still holding out: how stupid it all was!
+
+The call of a horn rang out suddenly through the frightful heat and
+boredom.  It left one or two more attentive ears particularly inquisitive
+as to what it might be.  Listen: there it is again.  It really did
+sound out again and it could generally have been believed that it
+was now ringing out from not so far away.  "All good things come
+in threes," lisped a facetious fop. "Sound one more time, horn!"
+And time marched on. People had become somewhat pensive--and
+now, in addition, frightened, as if the thing had grown wings and was
+riding on fiery monsters in that direction, consumed by flames and
+shouting, setting up a long cry:  We're coming!  It was in truth as
+if a subterranean world had suddenly received a breath of fresh air,
+breaking in through the hard earth above.  The sound was like the
+opening up of a dark precipice and it seemed as if the sun were
+shining down now out of a darkened sky even more glowingly, even
+more harshly, but a light coming down out of hell and not out of
+heaven. People laughed again--there are moments when man thinks
+he ought to smile when really what he feels is the icy grip of terror.
+The mood of a military expedition made up of many men is, at the
+end of the day, not very different from the mood of a single and
+solitary individual. The whole of the landscape in its stifling white
+heat now seemed to be still making a hooting noise.  It had turned
+into the sounds of horns and now there entered without any more
+ado into the range of horns being blown, as if from an opening, the
+crowd of men from whom the sound had gone out.  Now the landscape
+was featureless. The sky and the earth in summer came together as
+something solid. The season disappeared. A geographical location,
+a tilting yard, a bellicose play area had become a battlefield.
+Nature plays no part in a battle.  Everything depends on luck, the
+calibre of the weaponry, one crowd of people and another crowd
+of people.
+
+The rushing forward, to all appearances heated, crowd drew nearer.
+And the crowd of knights stood firm seeming for once to have knit
+together.  Lads of iron held their lances out in front of them so that
+you could have driven a coach and four over the resulting bridge so
+densely packed were the knights and so unsurprisingly lance after
+lance stuck out, immobile, unmovable, just the thing one might have
+thought for one of the pushing, pressing, human chests opposite to be
+spitted by. Here a stupid wall of sharp points, there men in shirts, only
+half dressed. Here the art of war practised in the most narrow-minded
+of ways, there men in the grip of inarticulate anger. One after another
+they ran forward boldly just to put an end to this despicable lack of
+enthusiasm and threw themselves onto the tip of a lance, crazy, mad,
+driven by rage and fury.  They ended up, of course, falling over one
+another on the ground without having been able even to inflict a wound
+with their hand-held weapons on the plumed and helmeted louts
+of iron opposite. They fell face down into the dusty horse dung left
+behind on the ground by noble mounts.  And so it befell nearly all
+these men in a state of undress while the lances, already reddened
+by their blood, seemed to smile at them disdainfully.
+
+*             *              *
+
+No. That was nothing. One saw oneself compelled to make use of
+a trick in order to be on the side of humanity.  Confronted by art,
+either art or some lofty thought was called for and that lofty thought,
+in the shape of a man of lofty face, immediately stepped forward as if
+pushed there by a supernatural power and addressed his countrymen:
+"Look after my wife and my children.  I'll make a path through for you."
+And he threw himself forthwith so as not to let cool his desire for
+self-sacrifice onto four or five lances and pulled down several more,
+as many as he could force to his chest in the act of dying.  It was as
+if he could not embrace these iron points enough and drag them into
+himself to be able to die with unlimited resources and to lie on the
+ground and turn into a bridge for men who then trampled over his
+body, on the lofty thought that wanted to be trampled on. Nothing
+will ever again compare with such a thrashing and the way in which
+those lightly-clad valley and mountain folk smashed that clumsy,
+despicable wall and tore it and beat it to bits like tigers ripping to
+pieces a defenceless herd of cows. The knights had become almost
+totally defenceless since, being hemmed in, they could hardly move
+to the side.  Mounted knights were popped from their horses like
+paper bags filled with air pop when you clap your hands on them.
+The herdsmen's weapons now proved frightful and their light summer
+clothing just right.  Armour to the knights was that much more
+burdensome.  Heads were stroked by side-swipes, only stroked
+apparently, and turned out to have been severed. More and more
+knights were being struck down, horses overturned and the power
+and rage of the onslaught kept increasing.  The duke was killed
+outright.  It would have been a miracle had he not been killed.
+Those who were raining down blows shouted as they did so,
+as if it were appropriate, as if just killing were too slight an
+annihilation, only a half measure.
+
+Heat, steam, the smell of blood, dirt and dust and the shouting and
+yelling merged in a wild, diabolical turmoil.  The dying hardly even
+felt the onset of their death, they died so quickly.  They suffocated
+in droves in their showy iron armour, those threshing flails.  What
+further comment need be made?  Each of them would gladly have
+given a damn, had they still been able to. Fine noblemen drowned
+in their hundreds; no, they were drownded in the nearby Lake of
+Sempach; they were drownded because they were pushed into the
+water like cats and dogs. They overbalanced and fell over one
+another in their elegant pointed shoes--it was a real shame. The
+most splendid armour plating could only vouchsafe to its wearer
+oblivion and the realisation of this frightening presentiment was not
+contradicted. What did it matter now that at home, in the Aargau
+or in Swabia, knights owned land and people, had a beautiful
+wife, servants, maidservants, fruit trees, fields and woods and
+collected taxes and enjoyed the finest privileges?  That only made
+dying in these pools of water between the pressing down knee of
+a crazy herdsman and a piece of earth more bitter and more wretched.
+The warhorses in their uncontrolled flight naturally stamped on their
+own masters.  Many knights, in the abruptness of their desire to
+dismount, got caught up in the stirrups with their silly but fashionable
+footwear and were left hanging from them so that they bumped
+themselves over the grass bleeding from the backs of their heads.
+Their shocked eyes in the meantime, before they closed for good,
+saw the sky burn above them like an angry flame.  Herdsmen also
+died, of course, but for every one bare-breasted and bare-armed
+combatant who died there were always ten armour-plated and
+wrapped up ones.  The battle of Sempach teaches us, in fact, how
+dreadfully stupid it is to wrap up well.  If only those puppets had
+been able to move, yes, they would have done.  Some did manage
+to do so, so that they were finally able to free themselves from that
+totally unbearable thing they were carrying on their body.  "I am
+fighting with slaves.  How disgusting!"  cried a handsome youth with
+yellowish hair falling down to his shoulders and sank to the ground,
+hit full in his fair face by a vicious blow, where he, fatally wounded,
+bit the grass with his half-smashed teeth.  A few herdsmen, whose
+deadly weapons had gone missing from their hands, pulled
+down like wrestlers in a wrestling ring their opponents from below by
+the scruff of the neck and head or threw themselves, avoiding counter
+blows, at the throat of a knight and throttled him, strangling him to
+death.
+
+*              *               *
+
+Meanwhile it had started to go dark.  The dying light still glowed in
+trees and bushes while the sun went down among the dusky foothills
+of the Alps like a dead, sad and handsome man.  The grim battle was
+over. The snow-white, pallid Alps let their fine, cold brows hang down
+and in the background was the world. Burial details gathered up the
+dead, went around quietly doing this, lifted up the fallen who were
+lying on the ground and took them to the mass grave that other men
+had dug. Standards and armour were piled up together till they formed
+an imposing heap.  Money and treasure together. Everything was set
+down in a certain place. Most of these strong and simple men had
+grown silent and well-behaved.  They were observing the captured
+valuables not without a melancholic contempt, walking up and down
+the meadows, looking at the faces of the slain and washing off the
+blood when it pleased them to see what the sullied facial features
+looked like. Two youths were found at the foot of some shrubs with
+young, bright faces, lips still smiling even in death and with their arms
+around each other as they lay on the ground. One of them had suffered
+a blow to the chest while the other had had his body ripped open.
+There was work for them to do till late at night.  After that torches
+were used to find corpses.  They came across the body of Arnold
+von Winkelried and beheld him with reverence.  When the men buried
+him, they sang with deep voices one of their simple songs. There was
+no more pomp under the circumstances. There were no priests there.
+What would one have done with priests?  Praying and thanking God
+for the hard-fought victory had to happen quietly without church
+candles.  Then they went home.  And after a few days they were
+scattered back again in their high valleys.  They were working,
+serving, saving, looking after businesses, doing what needed to be
+done and still spoke occasionally of the battle they had lived
+through, though not much. They were not hailed as heroes (well,
+perhaps a little in Luzern on their triumphal entry to that town). No
+matter. The days glided over it, for the days, with their multiplicity
+of cares, were harsh and raw even then, in 1386.  A great deed
+does not strike from the calendar the arduous sequence of days.
+Life does not stand still for long on the day of a battle.  History
+just pauses a short while until it too, forced on by life's imperious
+demands, has to hasten forward.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Battle of Sempach, by Robert Walser
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41518 ***
diff --git a/41518.txt b/41518.txt
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Battle of Sempach, by Robert Walser
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
-
-
-Title: The Battle of Sempach
-
-Author: Robert Walser
-
-Translator: Michael Wooff
-
-Release Date: November 30, 2012 [EBook #41518]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ASCII
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BATTLE OF SEMPACH ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Michael Wooff
-
-
-
-
-The Battle of Sempach
-
-A Story
-By
-Robert Walser (1878-1956)
-
-Berlin.
-The Future Press.
-1908.
-
-One day, in the middle of high summer, a military expedition was
-advancing slowly down the dusty country road that led towards a
-district of Luzern.  The bright, actually more than bright, sun
-dazzled down over swaying armour serving to cover human bodies,
-over prancing horses, over helmets and parts of faces, over equine
-heads and tails, over ornaments and plumes and stirrups as big as
-snowshoes.  To the right and to the left of the shining military
-expedition spread out meadows with thousands of fruit trees in them
-up as far as hills that, looming up out of the blue-smelling, half-hazy
-distance, beckoned and had the same effect as light and carefully
-painted window dressing.  It was before noon and the heat was already
-oppressive.  It was a meadowy heat, a heat contained in grass, hay
-and dust, for thick clouds of dust were being thrown up that sometimes
-descended like a veil over parts and sections of the army. Sluggishly,
-ploddingly, carelessly the long cavalcade moved forward. Sometimes
-it looked like a shimmering and elongated snake, sometimes like a
-lizard of enormous girth, sometimes like a large piece of cloth,
-richly embroidered with figures and colourful shapes and ceremoniously
-trailed as with ladies, elderly and domineering ones as far as I'm
-concerned, accustomed to dragging trains behind them.  In all this
-military might's method and way of doing things, in the stamping of
-feet and the clinking of weapons, in this rough and ready clatter
-lurked an "as far as I'm concerned" that was uniform, something
-impudent, full of confidence, something upsetting, slowly pushing to
-one side.  All these knights were conversing, as far as their iron-clad
-mouths would allow them, in joyful verbal banter with each other.
-Peals of laughter rang out and this sound was admirably suited to
-the bright tones emitted by weapons and chains and golden belts. The
-morning sun still appeared to caress a good deal of brass and finer
-metal.  The sounds of tin whistles flew sunward.  Now and again one
-of the many footmen walking as if on stilts would tender to his
-mounted lord a delicate titbit, stuck on a silver fork, right up to his
-swaying saddle. Wine was drunk on the move, poultry consumed
-and nothing edible spat out, with an easy-going, carefree amiability,
-for this was no earnest war involving chivalry they were riding to, but
-more of a punitive expedition, a statutory rape, bloody, scornful,
-histrionic things.  Everybody there thought so and everybody saw
-already the heap of cut-off heads that would redden the meadow.
-Among the leaders of the expedition was many a wonderful noble
-young man splendidly attired, sitting on horseback like a male angel
-flown down from a blue uncertain heaven.  Many a one had taken
-off his helmet to make things more comfortable for himself and given
-it to an attendant to carry.  By doing so he displayed to the air a
-peculiarly finely drawn face that was a mixture of innocence and
-exuberance.  They were telling the latest jokes and discussing the
-most up-to-date stories of courtly women.  The serious ones in their
-company they tolerated as best they could; it seemed today as if
-a pensive expression was deemed to be improper and unchivalrous.
-The hair of the young knights who had taken their helmets off, shone
-and smelt of oil and unguents and sweet-smelling water that they had
-poured on it as if it had been a matter of riding to visit a coquette to
-sing her charming love songs.  Their hands, from which the iron
-gauntlets had been taken off, did not look like those of warriors,
-but manicured and pampered, slender and white like the hands of
-young girls.
-
-Only one person in the wild procession was serious. Already his
-outward appearance, armour that was deep black broken up with
-tender gold, indicated how the person it covered thought.  He was the
-noble Duke Leopold of Austria.  This man did not speak a word and
-seemed completely lost in anxious thoughts.  His face looked like that
-of a person who is being pestered by a fly that is impudently flying
-round his eye.  This fly may well have been a presentiment that
-something bad was going to happen for a smile that was permanently
-both contemptuous and sad played over his mouth. He kept his head
-lowered.  The whole world, however cheerful it looked, seemed to him
-to roll and thunder angrily. Or was it just the thunder of the
-trampling hooves of horses as the army was now passing over a wooden
-bridge that spanned the river Reuss?  Nevertheless something
-foreshadowing misfortune hovered horribly around the duke's bodily
-form.
-
-*             *              *
-
-The army stopped near the little town of Sempach. It was now about
-two o'clock in the afternoon.  It may have been three o'clock.  It was
-a matter of indifference to the knights what the time might be. As far
-as they were concerned it could have been eight o'clock at night--they
-would have found that quite in order. They were already terribly bored
-and found even the slightest trace of military discipline laughable.  It
-was a dull moment.  It was like a parade ground manoeuvre how they
-jumped from their saddles to take up a position. No-one wanted to
-laugh any more.  They had already laughed so much.  Yawning and
-exhaustion had set in.  Even the horses seemed to understand that
-all one could do now was yawn.  The servants on foot tucked into
-the remnants of the food and wine, quaffed and scoffed what there
-was still left to scoff and quaff. How ridiculous this whole
-expedition appeared to all concerned!  This shabby little town that
-was still holding out: how stupid it all was!
-
-The call of a horn rang out suddenly through the frightful heat and
-boredom.  It left one or two more attentive ears particularly inquisitive
-as to what it might be.  Listen: there it is again.  It really did
-sound out again and it could generally have been believed that it
-was now ringing out from not so far away.  "All good things come
-in threes," lisped a facetious fop. "Sound one more time, horn!"
-And time marched on. People had become somewhat pensive--and
-now, in addition, frightened, as if the thing had grown wings and was
-riding on fiery monsters in that direction, consumed by flames and
-shouting, setting up a long cry:  We're coming!  It was in truth as
-if a subterranean world had suddenly received a breath of fresh air,
-breaking in through the hard earth above.  The sound was like the
-opening up of a dark precipice and it seemed as if the sun were
-shining down now out of a darkened sky even more glowingly, even
-more harshly, but a light coming down out of hell and not out of
-heaven. People laughed again--there are moments when man thinks
-he ought to smile when really what he feels is the icy grip of terror.
-The mood of a military expedition made up of many men is, at the
-end of the day, not very different from the mood of a single and
-solitary individual. The whole of the landscape in its stifling white
-heat now seemed to be still making a hooting noise.  It had turned
-into the sounds of horns and now there entered without any more
-ado into the range of horns being blown, as if from an opening, the
-crowd of men from whom the sound had gone out.  Now the landscape
-was featureless. The sky and the earth in summer came together as
-something solid. The season disappeared. A geographical location,
-a tilting yard, a bellicose play area had become a battlefield.
-Nature plays no part in a battle.  Everything depends on luck, the
-calibre of the weaponry, one crowd of people and another crowd
-of people.
-
-The rushing forward, to all appearances heated, crowd drew nearer.
-And the crowd of knights stood firm seeming for once to have knit
-together.  Lads of iron held their lances out in front of them so that
-you could have driven a coach and four over the resulting bridge so
-densely packed were the knights and so unsurprisingly lance after
-lance stuck out, immobile, unmovable, just the thing one might have
-thought for one of the pushing, pressing, human chests opposite to be
-spitted by. Here a stupid wall of sharp points, there men in shirts, only
-half dressed. Here the art of war practised in the most narrow-minded
-of ways, there men in the grip of inarticulate anger. One after another
-they ran forward boldly just to put an end to this despicable lack of
-enthusiasm and threw themselves onto the tip of a lance, crazy, mad,
-driven by rage and fury.  They ended up, of course, falling over one
-another on the ground without having been able even to inflict a wound
-with their hand-held weapons on the plumed and helmeted louts
-of iron opposite. They fell face down into the dusty horse dung left
-behind on the ground by noble mounts.  And so it befell nearly all
-these men in a state of undress while the lances, already reddened
-by their blood, seemed to smile at them disdainfully.
-
-*             *              *
-
-No. That was nothing. One saw oneself compelled to make use of
-a trick in order to be on the side of humanity.  Confronted by art,
-either art or some lofty thought was called for and that lofty thought,
-in the shape of a man of lofty face, immediately stepped forward as if
-pushed there by a supernatural power and addressed his countrymen:
-"Look after my wife and my children.  I'll make a path through for you."
-And he threw himself forthwith so as not to let cool his desire for
-self-sacrifice onto four or five lances and pulled down several more,
-as many as he could force to his chest in the act of dying.  It was as
-if he could not embrace these iron points enough and drag them into
-himself to be able to die with unlimited resources and to lie on the
-ground and turn into a bridge for men who then trampled over his
-body, on the lofty thought that wanted to be trampled on. Nothing
-will ever again compare with such a thrashing and the way in which
-those lightly-clad valley and mountain folk smashed that clumsy,
-despicable wall and tore it and beat it to bits like tigers ripping to
-pieces a defenceless herd of cows. The knights had become almost
-totally defenceless since, being hemmed in, they could hardly move
-to the side.  Mounted knights were popped from their horses like
-paper bags filled with air pop when you clap your hands on them.
-The herdsmen's weapons now proved frightful and their light summer
-clothing just right.  Armour to the knights was that much more
-burdensome.  Heads were stroked by side-swipes, only stroked
-apparently, and turned out to have been severed. More and more
-knights were being struck down, horses overturned and the power
-and rage of the onslaught kept increasing.  The duke was killed
-outright.  It would have been a miracle had he not been killed.
-Those who were raining down blows shouted as they did so,
-as if it were appropriate, as if just killing were too slight an
-annihilation, only a half measure.
-
-Heat, steam, the smell of blood, dirt and dust and the shouting and
-yelling merged in a wild, diabolical turmoil.  The dying hardly even
-felt the onset of their death, they died so quickly.  They suffocated
-in droves in their showy iron armour, those threshing flails.  What
-further comment need be made?  Each of them would gladly have
-given a damn, had they still been able to. Fine noblemen drowned
-in their hundreds; no, they were drownded in the nearby Lake of
-Sempach; they were drownded because they were pushed into the
-water like cats and dogs. They overbalanced and fell over one
-another in their elegant pointed shoes--it was a real shame. The
-most splendid armour plating could only vouchsafe to its wearer
-oblivion and the realisation of this frightening presentiment was not
-contradicted. What did it matter now that at home, in the Aargau
-or in Swabia, knights owned land and people, had a beautiful
-wife, servants, maidservants, fruit trees, fields and woods and
-collected taxes and enjoyed the finest privileges?  That only made
-dying in these pools of water between the pressing down knee of
-a crazy herdsman and a piece of earth more bitter and more wretched.
-The warhorses in their uncontrolled flight naturally stamped on their
-own masters.  Many knights, in the abruptness of their desire to
-dismount, got caught up in the stirrups with their silly but fashionable
-footwear and were left hanging from them so that they bumped
-themselves over the grass bleeding from the backs of their heads.
-Their shocked eyes in the meantime, before they closed for good,
-saw the sky burn above them like an angry flame.  Herdsmen also
-died, of course, but for every one bare-breasted and bare-armed
-combatant who died there were always ten armour-plated and
-wrapped up ones.  The battle of Sempach teaches us, in fact, how
-dreadfully stupid it is to wrap up well.  If only those puppets had
-been able to move, yes, they would have done.  Some did manage
-to do so, so that they were finally able to free themselves from that
-totally unbearable thing they were carrying on their body.  "I am
-fighting with slaves.  How disgusting!"  cried a handsome youth with
-yellowish hair falling down to his shoulders and sank to the ground,
-hit full in his fair face by a vicious blow, where he, fatally wounded,
-bit the grass with his half-smashed teeth.  A few herdsmen, whose
-deadly weapons had gone missing from their hands, pulled
-down like wrestlers in a wrestling ring their opponents from below by
-the scruff of the neck and head or threw themselves, avoiding counter
-blows, at the throat of a knight and throttled him, strangling him to
-death.
-
-*              *               *
-
-Meanwhile it had started to go dark.  The dying light still glowed in
-trees and bushes while the sun went down among the dusky foothills
-of the Alps like a dead, sad and handsome man.  The grim battle was
-over. The snow-white, pallid Alps let their fine, cold brows hang down
-and in the background was the world. Burial details gathered up the
-dead, went around quietly doing this, lifted up the fallen who were
-lying on the ground and took them to the mass grave that other men
-had dug. Standards and armour were piled up together till they formed
-an imposing heap.  Money and treasure together. Everything was set
-down in a certain place. Most of these strong and simple men had
-grown silent and well-behaved.  They were observing the captured
-valuables not without a melancholic contempt, walking up and down
-the meadows, looking at the faces of the slain and washing off the
-blood when it pleased them to see what the sullied facial features
-looked like. Two youths were found at the foot of some shrubs with
-young, bright faces, lips still smiling even in death and with their arms
-around each other as they lay on the ground. One of them had suffered
-a blow to the chest while the other had had his body ripped open.
-There was work for them to do till late at night.  After that torches
-were used to find corpses.  They came across the body of Arnold
-von Winkelried and beheld him with reverence.  When the men buried
-him, they sang with deep voices one of their simple songs. There was
-no more pomp under the circumstances. There were no priests there.
-What would one have done with priests?  Praying and thanking God
-for the hard-fought victory had to happen quietly without church
-candles.  Then they went home.  And after a few days they were
-scattered back again in their high valleys.  They were working,
-serving, saving, looking after businesses, doing what needed to be
-done and still spoke occasionally of the battle they had lived
-through, though not much. They were not hailed as heroes (well,
-perhaps a little in Luzern on their triumphal entry to that town). No
-matter. The days glided over it, for the days, with their multiplicity
-of cares, were harsh and raw even then, in 1386.  A great deed
-does not strike from the calendar the arduous sequence of days.
-Life does not stand still for long on the day of a battle.  History
-just pauses a short while until it too, forced on by life's imperious
-demands, has to hasten forward.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
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