The Empire of Austria; Its Rise and Present Power | Page 9

for the strife, and soon
took the field with an army which he supposed would certainly triumph
over any force which Rhodolph could raise. He even succeeded in
drawing Henry of Bavaria into an alliance; and many of the German
princes, whom he could not win to his standard, he bribed to neutrality.
Numerous chieftains, lured to his camp by confidence of victory,
crowded around him with their followers, from Poland, Bulgaria,
Pomerania, Magdeburg, and from the barbaric shores of the Baltic.
Many of the fierce nobles of Hungary had also joined the standard of
Ottocar.
Thus suddenly clouds gathered around Rhodolph, and many of his
friends despaired of his cause. He appealed to the princes of the
German empire, and but few responded to his call. His sons-in-law, the
Electors of Palatine and of Saxony, ventured not to aid him in an
emergence when defeat seemed almost certain, and where all who
shared in the defeat would be utterly ruined. In June, 1275, Ottocar
marched from Prague, met his allies at the appointed rendezvous, and
threading the defiles of the Bohemian mountains, approached the
frontiers of Austria. Rhodolph was seriously alarmed, for it was evident
that the chances of war were against him. He could not conceal the
restlessness and agitation of his spirit as he impatiently awaited the
arrival of troops whom he summoned, but who disappointed his hopes.
"I have not one," he sadly exclaimed, "in whom I can confide, or on
whose advice I can depend."
The citizens of Vienna perceiving that Rhodolph was abandoned by his
German allies, and that they could present no effectual resistance to so
powerful an army as was approaching, and terrified in view of a siege,
and the capture of the city by storm, urged a capitulation, and even
begged permission to choose a new sovereign, that they might not be

involved in the ruin impending over Rhodolph. This address roused
Rhodolph from his despondency, and inspired him with the energies of
despair. He had succeeded in obtaining a few troops from his provinces
in Switzerland. The Bishop of Basle, who had now become his
confessor, came to his aid, at the head of a hundred horsemen, and a
body of expert slingers. Rhodolph, though earnestly advised not to
undertake a battle with such desperate odds, marched from Vienna to
meet the foe.
Rapidly traversing the southern banks of the Danube to Hamburg, he
crossed the river and advanced to Marcheck, on the banks of the
Morava. He was joined by some troops from Styria and Carinthia, and
by a strong force led by the King of Hungary. Emboldened by these
accessions, though still far inferior in strength to Ottocar, he pressed on
till the two armies faced each other on the plains of Murchfield. It was
the 26th of August, 1278.
At this moment some traitors deserting the camp of Ottocar, repaired to
the camp of Rhodolph and proposed to assassinate the Bohemian king.
Rhodolph spurned the infamous offer, and embraced the opportunity of
seeking terms of reconciliation by apprising Ottocar of his danger. But
the king, confident in his own strength, and despising the weakness of
Rhodolph, deemed the story a fabrication and refused to listen to any
overtures. Without delay he drew up his army in the form of a crescent,
so as almost to envelop the feeble band before him, and made a
simultaneous attack upon the center and upon both flanks. A terrific
battle ensued, in which one party fought, animated by undoubting
confidence, and the other impelled by despair. The strife was long and
bloody. The tide of victory repeatedly ebbed and flowed. Ottocar had
offered a large reward to any of his followers who would bring to him
Rhodolph, dead or alive.
A number of knights of great strength and bravery, confederated to
achieve this feat. It was a point of honor to be effected at every hazard.
Disregarding all the other perils of the battle, they watched their
opportunity, and then in a united swoop, on their steel-clad chargers,
fell upon the emperor. His feeble guard was instantly cut down.

Rhodolph was a man of herculean power, and he fought like a lion at
bay. One after another of his assailants he struck from his horse, when a
Thuringian knight, of almost fabulous stature and strength, thrust his
spear through the horse of the emperor, and both steed and rider fell to
the ground. Rhodolph, encumbered by his heavy coat of mail, and
entangled in the housings of his saddle, was unable to rise. He crouched
upon the ground, holding his helmet over him, while saber strokes and
pike thrusts rang upon cuirass and buckler like blows upon an anvil. A
corps of reserve spurred to his aid, and the emperor was rescued, and