“What did I say?” remarked Heissler, with a smile to Teleki. “You may go back, my son, from whence you came,” he said to the Szekler.
But Teleki shook his head at this.
“It is quite possible,” said he, “that while we are halting here, Tököly may issue forth somewhere behind our very backs.”
Heissler pointed at the snow-capped mountains.
“Can anything but a bird get through those?”
“If Tököly lead the way—yes.”
“Your Excellency has a great respect for that gentleman.”
“Truly, Mr. General, I should advise you to summon hither the regiments left at the iron gate, and bring up some more cannons.”
Heissler did not even reply, but beckoned to him to be silent.
At that instant a wild yell suddenly struck upon the ear of the general, and looking back towards Zernyest he saw a large column of smoke rising heavenwards, while the outposts came galloping up towards the camp.
“What is that?”
“Tököly has got through the mountains!” was the terrifying report, “the Tartars have burnt Toháir and plundered the camp.”
“To horse, to arms, every man!” roared Heissler, and drawing his sword leaped upon his horse. Doria, Noscher, and Magni quickly marshalled their squadrons, Macskári quickly got together his squadrons, and descended into the plain.
They had scarce got into battle array when they were joined by the boyar Balacsán, the refugee Moldavian nobleman, who kept on foot two regiments of the Hungarians and Wallachians at his own expense.
The cry of the ravaging Tartars was now audible close at hand in the village of Toháir, which was blazing away under the very eyes of the Transylvanian hosts. Balacsán’s soldiers, eager for the fray, begged leave of Heissler to drive them from the village, and rushing upon them with a wild yell, quickly drove the Tartars back through the burning streets; while Heissler, with the main body of the army, galloped towards Zernyest with the greatest haste. He also succeeded in occupying it before Tököly had reached it.
Here the soldiers rested after their tiring gallop. Heissler distributed wine and brandy among them, then marshalled them, and sent to the front the military chaplains. Two Jesuits, crucifix in hand, confessed all the German soldiers, and the Rev. Mr. Gernyeszeg preached a pious discourse to the Calvinists.
Meanwhile Tököly’s army had advanced upon Zernyest. On one side of him were the snowy Alps, on the other a reed-grown morass, which in the hot days of August was quite dried up and could easily be crossed.
As soon as the Szeklers saw the Turks, with their characteristic pigheadedness they seized their pikes and would have rushed upon them with their usual war-cry: “Jesus! Help, Jesus! Help!”
Their leaders drove them back by beating them with their sword-blades, and exhausted the whole vocabulary of abuse and condemnation before they could prevent them prematurely from beginning the battle.
Teleki meanwhile summoned to his side his trusty servant, and as he was dressed in a black habit—for they were still in mourning for the Prince—with few jewels on it, he detached his diamond aigrette and gold chain, and adding his signet-ring to them, gave them to the servant that he might take them before the battle to Gernyeszeg, and give them to his daughter, Dame Michael Vay.
The old servant would have asked why he did this, but Teleki turned away from him and beckoned him to go away.
Then he had his favourite charger, Kálmán, brought forth, and after stroking its neck tenderly, trotted off to the front of his forces and addressed them in these words:
“My brave Transylvanians, now is the time to fight together valiantly for glory and liberty in the service of his Imperial Majesty in order to deliver our country, our wives and children, from Turkish bondage and the tyranny of that evil ally of theirs, Tököly, for otherwise you and your descendants have nought but eternal slavery to expect. Grieve not for me if I, your general, fall on the field of battle. Behold, I bring my white beard among you, and am ready to die.”
While he was saying these words his adjutant, Macskári, came to him and began to explain that the Transylvanians had been placed in the rear and were grumbling loudly at having been so set aside.
On hearing this Teleki at once galloped up to Heissler.
“Sir,” said he, “you are a bad judge of the Hungarian temperament in warfare if you place them in the rear; the Szekler, in particular, has a great aptitude for the assault, but don’t expect help from him if you keep him waiting in the rear till the front ranks are broken.”
Generals, on the eve of a battle are, very naturally, somewhat impatient of advice, especially if it be delivered by a civilian. Heissler therefore snubbed the minister somewhat unmercifully, whereupon Teleki galloped back to his men without saying another word.
Meanwhile the Turkish army had slowly begun to move; on the left wing a regiment of Tartars stealthily entered the reeds of the morass and began to surround the right wing of the Transylvanians; but their experienced general, perceiving their approach from the undulatory movement of the reed-stalks, speedily ordered Doria to advance against them with six squadrons of dragoons, whereupon Teleki also sent thirteen regiments of Szeklers against them under Michael Henter, and soon the two stealthily crouching hosts could be seen in collision. The Szeklers, with a wild yell, rushed upon the Tartars, who turned tail after the first onset, and fled still deeper among the reeds. Doria pursued them everywhere, the discharge of the artillery fired the reeds in several places, and they began to
