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 Docu