This is a consoling
thought; it shall rouse me again to life. I am glad I did not die
to-day. I can still repair my fault. All the responsibility will be
thrown on me; it will be said, the battle would have been won, but
for Frederick's obstinacy. But let this be! It is a necessary
consequence that a warrior should suffer for the faults of his
followers. Through me this battle was lost, and in history it will
go down thus to future generations. But many a victory shall still
be recorded, and as the defeat was owing to me, so shall the victory
also come through me alone. I alone will bear upon my shoulders
Prussia's honor, Prussia's glory. It lies now, with me, bleeding on
the ground. It shall be lifted and sustained by me alone!" And
raising his burning eyes heavenward, he seemed to see these future
victories branded upon the skies. Gradually the inspiration left his
countenance, giving place to deep thought. He had delivered his
funeral oration to the lost battle, and now gave his thought to his
future victories. He drew lines and figures upon the sand with his
cane. It may have been a drawing of the last or a sketch of the next
battle.
Pages:
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447