eighty men deep, with lanes
through it every two or three yards;" permeable everywhere to Cavalry,
if we had them; and turning nothing to the Enemy but color-sergeants
and bare poles of a regiment! And Romer is dead, and Goldlein of the
Infantry is dead. And on their right wing, skirted by that marshy Brook
of Laugwitz,--Austrian right wing had been weakened by detachments, when
Berlichingen rode off to succeed Romer,--the Austrians are suffering:
Posadowsky's Horse (among whom is Rothenburg, once vanguard),
strengthened by remnants who have rallied here, are at last prospering,
after reverses. And the Prussian fire of small arms, at such rate, has
lasted now for five hours. The Austrian Army, becoming instead of a web
a mere series of flying tatters, forming into stripes or lanes in the
way we see, appears to have had about enough.

These symptoms are not hidden from Schwerin. His own ammunition, too, he
knows is running scarce, and fighters here and there are searching the
slain for cartridges:--Schwerin closes his ranks, trims and tightens
himself a little; breaks forth into universal field-music, and with
banners spread, starts in mass wholly, "Forwards!" Forwards towards
these Austrians and the setting sun.

An intelligent Austrian Officer, writing next week from Neisse,
[_Feldzuge der Preussen_ (above cited), i. 38.]' confesses he never
saw anything more beautiful. "I can well say, I never in my life saw
anything more beautiful. They marched with the greatest steadiness,
arrow-straight, and their front like a line (SCHNURGLEICH), as if they
had been upon parade. The glitter of their clear arms shone strangely
in the setting sun, and the fire from them went on no otherwise than a
continued peal of thunder." Grand picture indeed; but not to be enjoyed
as a Work of Art, for it is coming upon us! "The spirits of our Army sank
altogether", continues he; "the Foot plainly giving way, Horse refusing
to come forward, all things wavering towards dissolution:"--so that
Neipperg, to avoid worse, gives the word to go;--and they roll off at
double-quick time, through Mollwitz, over Laugwitz Bridge and Brook,
towards Grotkau by what routes they can. The sun is just sunk; a quarter
to eight, says the intelligent Austrian Officer,--while the Austrian
Army, much to its amazement, tumbles forth in this bad fashion.

They had lost nine of their own cannon, and all of those Prussian nine
which they once had, except one: eight canno