Prince Franz, the young Nephew of Moritz, alone witnessed this scene; scene to be locked in threefold silence. In his old age, Franz had whispered it to Berenhorst, his bastard Half-Uncle, a famed military Critic,--who is still in the highest repute that way (Berenhorst's KRIEGSKUNST, and other deep Books), and is recognizable, to LAY readers, for an abstruse strong judgment;with equal strength of abstruse temper hidden behind it, and very privately a deep grudge towards Friedrich, scarcely repressible on opportunity. From Berenhorst it irrepressibly oozed out;["Heinrich van Berenhorst [a natural son of the Old Dessauer's], in his Betrachtungen uber die Kriegskunst, is the first that alludes to it in print. (Leipzig, 1797,--page in SECOND edition, 1798, is i. 219)."] much more to Friedrich's disadvantage than it now looks when wholly seen into. Not change of plan, not ruinous caprice on Friedrich's part, as Berenhorst, Retzow and others would have it; only excess of brevity towards Moritz, and accident of the Olympian fire breaking out.
Friedrich is chargeable with nothing, except perhaps (what Moritz knows the evil of) trying for a short-cut! Such is now the received interpretation. Prince Franz, to his last day, refused to speak again on the subject; judiciously repentant, we can fancy, of having spoken at all, and brought such a matter into the streets and their pie-powder adjudications. [In KUTZEN, pp. 217-237, a long dissertation on it.] For the present, he is Adjutant to Moritz, busy obeying to the letter.
Friedrich, withdrawing to his Height again, and looking back on Moritz, finds that he is making right in upon the Austrian line;which was by no means Friedrich's meaning, had not he been so brief. Friedrich, doubtless with pain, remembers now that he had said only, "Face to right!" and had then got into Olympian tempest, which left things dark to Moritz. "HALB-LINKS, Half to left withal!" he despatches that new order to Moritz, with the utmost speed: "Face to right; THEN, forward half to left." Had Moritz, at the first, got that commentary to his order, there had probably been no remonstrance on Moritz's part, no Olympian scene to keep silent; and Moritz, taking that diagonal direction from the first, had hit in at or below Kreczor, at the very point where he was needed. Alas for overhaste; short-cuts, if they are to be good, ought at least to be made clear! Moritz, on the new order reaching him, does instantly steer half-left: but he arrives now above Kreczor, strikes the Austrian line on this side of Kreczor;disjoined from Hulsen, where he can do no good to Hulsen: in brief, Moritz, and now the whole line with him, have to do as Mannstein and sequel are doing, attack in face, not in flank; and try what, in the proportion of one to two, uphill, and against batteries, they can make of it in that fashion!
And so, from right wing to left, miles long, there is now universal storm of volleying, bayonet-charging, thunder of artillery, case-shot, cartridge-shot, and sulphurous devouring whirlwind;the wrestle very tough and furious, especially on the assaulting side. Here, as at Prag, the Prussian troops were one and all in the fire; each doing strenuously his utmost, no complaint to be made of their performance. More perfect soldiers, I believe, were rarely or never seen on any field of war. But there is no reserve left:
Mannstein and the rest, who should have been reserve, and at a General's disposal, we see what they are doing! In vain, or nearly so, is Friedrich's tactic or manoeuvring talent; what now is there to manoeuvre? All is now gone up into one combustion. To fan the fire, to be here, there, fanning the fire where need shows: this is now Friedrich's function; "everywhere in the hottest of the fight,"that is all we at present know of him, invisible to us otherwise.
This death-wrestle lasted perhaps four hours; till seven or towards eight o'clock in the June evening; the sun verging downwards;issue still uncertain.
And, in fact, at last the issue turned upon a hair;--such the empire of Chance in War matters. Cautious Daun, it is well known, did not like the aspect of the thing; cautious Daun thinks to himself, "If we get pushed back into that Camp of yesternight, down the Kamhayek Heights, and right into the impassable swamps;the reverse way, Heights now HIS, not ours, and impassable swamps waiting to swallow us? Wreck complete, and surrender at discretion--!" Daun writes in pencil: "The retreat is to Suchdol"(Kuttenberg way, southward, where we have heights again and magazines); Daun's Aide-de-camp is galloping every-whither with that important Document; and Generals are preparing for retreat accordingly,--one General on the right wing has, visibly to Hulsen and us, his cannon out of battery, and under way rearwards;a welcome sight to Hulsen, who, with imperfect reinforcement, is toughly maintaining himself there all day.
And now the Daun Aide-de-camp, so Chance would have it, cannot find Nostitz the Saxon Commandant of Horse in that quarter; finds a "Saxon Lieutenant-Colonel B---" ("Benkendorf" all Books now write him plainly), who, by another little chance, had been still left there: "Can the Herr Lieutenant-Colonel tell me where General Nostitz is?" Benkendorf can tell;--will himself take the message:
but Benkendorf looks into the important Pencil Document; thinks it premature, wasteful, and that the contrary is feasible! persuades Nostitz so to think; persuades this regiment and that (Saxon, Austrian, horse and foot); though the cannon in retreat go trundling past them: "Merely shifting their battery, don't you see:--Steady!" And, in fine, organizes, of Saxon and Austrian horse and foot in promising quantity (Saxons in great fury on the Pirna score, not to say the Striegau, and other old grudges), a new unanimous assault on Hulsen.
