At noon, under the drooping banner of Zurich, only seven hundred passed through the gates. The affectionate Anna was seen on the ramparts following her husband with her eyes so long as he was visible. But she had also in that ill-omened army, a son, a brother, a great number of near relations, and many intimate friends, of whose return she had no hope. She shared the forebodings of her husband, and like him, believed that it was for the holy cause of God and His truth that they thus exposed themselves to danger and to death-it was martyrdom.
Zwingle was observed to fall behind his troops. Those who were near him could hear that he was engaged in prayer. He thus rode mournfully alone, praying for the welfare of the church of God, until he reached Mount Albis.
Cappel is only three leagues from Zurich, but the road crosses Mount Albis. On its summit they halted; and some proposed that they should wait for reinforcements; but the roaring of distant cannon announced that the battle had begun. This sound awoke the native feelings of Zwingle. "Hear ye not the roar of the cannon beneath us?" he exclaimed, "they are fighting at Cappel; let us hasten forward to the aid of our brethren." The words of Zwingle prevailed with the leaders, filled them with enthusiasm, and they pushed forward.
Early on the morning of that day, the soldiers of the five cantons attended divine service, heard mass; the host was offered up for the sins of the people, and the army, eight thousand strong, began their march at nine o'clock. The division posted at Cappel was attacked by this army at one o'clock, but being ignorant of their force contended themselves with keeping up a constant fire of artillery. In two hours the Zurichers bearing the "great banner," reached their comrades and joined in battle.
The Catholics, not knowing the extent of this reinforcement, would not hazard a general engagement. The artillery of the Zurichers being advantageously posted and well served, greatly disconcerted the Catholics, who were spread out on a morass beneath them. It was four o'clock; the sun was sinking rapidly. Loud murmurs were heard in the ranks of the Catholics because of the tardiness of the chiefs. During
this altercation, an experienced and brave warrior of the canton of Uri, at the head of three hundred volunteers, silently entered a wood on the left flank of the Zurich army, which they had neglected to occupy, and perceiving the weakness of the Protestant army, he immediately resolved to attack them. The mountaineers coming to the knowledge of this oversight, climbed the hill, and under cover of the beech-trees, opened a deadly fire on the men of Zurich. They were within a short distance of them, and ordered to pick out the men they desired to bring down. Having discharged their fire, they rushed out of the wood, sword in hand, and furiously charged the bewildered Zurichers, crying, "Heretics! image-breakers! we have you at last!"