, i. 126; Berenhorst;
&c. &c.;--then FINALLY Kutzen, pp. 99, 217.] The three parties were:
King Friedrich; Moritz of Dessau, leading on the centre here; Moritz's
young Nephew Franz, Heir of Dessau, a brisk lad of seventeen, learning
War here as Aide-de-camp to Moritz: the exact spot is not known to
me,--probably the ground near that Inn of Slatislunz, or Golden-Sun;
between the foot of Friedrich's-Berg and that:--fact indubitable, though
kept dark so long. Moritz is marching with the centre, or main battle,
that way, intending to wheel and turn hillwards, Kreczor-wise, as per
order, certain furlongs ahead; when Friedrich (having, so I can conceive
it, seen from his Hill-top, how Hulsen had done Kreczor, altogether
prosperous there; and what endless capability there was of prospering to
all lengths and speeding the general winning, were Hulsen but supported
soon enough, were there any safe short-cut to Hulsen) dashed from his
Hill-top in hot haste towards Prince Moritz, General of the centre,
intending to direct him upon such short-cut; and hastily said, with
Olympian brevity and fire, "Face to right HERE!" With Jove-like brevity,
and in such blaze of Olympian fire as we may imagine. Moritz himself
is of brief, crabbed, fiery mind, brief in temper; and answers to the
effect, "Impossible to attack the enemy here, your Majesty; postured as
they are; and we with such orders gone abroad!"--"Face to right, I
tell you!" said the King, still more Olympian, and too emphatic for
explaining. Moritz, I hope, paused, but rather think he did not, before
remonstrating the second time; neither perhaps was his voice so low as
it should have been: it is certain Friedrich dashed quite up to Moritz
at this second remonstrance, flashed out his sword (the only time he
ever drew his sword in battle); and now, gone all to mere Olympian
lightning and thundertone, asks in THIS attitude, "WILL ER (Will He)
obey orders, then?"--Moritz, fallen silent of remonstrance, with gloomy
rapidity obeys.

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