CHAPTER III.
BATTLE OF MINDEN.
The morning of the 1st of August dawned fair and softly. The sky was a deep blue, and light fleecy clouds were floating across it. It was the opening of a day of battle, a day of doom to many, for who among us were fated to fall, and who to see its close?
A gentle breeze waved the foliage of the green woods, and swayed the ripened corn in yellow billows as it passed over the broad harvest-fields.
Bright, clear, and sparkling amid the blue ether shone the morning star, and lower down rolled a mass of amber-coloured cloud, on the edges of which glittered the rays of the yet unrisen sun.
Phosphor paled, the light gradually became golden, and the last shadows of night grew fainter as they faded away. Then the light breeze died, and there was not a breath to stir the foliage of the dense old forests which cast their shadows on the current of the Weser—that watery barrier which the French were to defend, and we to force at all hazards; hence, as the morning drew on, the air became close, heavy, and hot, and our men—horse, loot, and artillery—while wheeling, deploying, and getting into position among green hedgerows and deep corn, laden as they were in heavy marching order, soon felt their frames relaxed and the bead-drops oozing from under their grenadier caps and heavy cocked hats.
Brightly the sun burst forth from amid his amber clouds, and ere long the embattled walls of Minden, and its Gothic spires, Catholic and Lutheran, were shining in light.
The allied army formed in order of battle on the plain called Todtenhausen, in front of the town of Minden, which occupies the left bank of the Weser, and in which there was a strong French garrison, whose cannon commanded the famous stone bridge of six hundred yards in length. After capturing the town from General Zastrow, the main body of the army of M. de Contades had encamped near it.
On his left rose a steep hill, in his front lay a deep morass, and in his rear flowed a rugged mountain-stream.
As this position was strong, Prince Ferdinand employed all his strategy to draw the maréchal from it. With this view he had quitted his camp on the Weser, and marched to a place named Hille, leaving, however, General Wangenheim with a body of troops entrenched on the plain of Todtenhausen. Then detaching his nephew (known among us as the Hereditary Prince of Brunswick) with six thousand men, he gave him orders to make a detour towards the French left, and thus cut off their communication with Paderborn.
Though not ignorant of the compass of these triple dispositions, Contades, the Duc de Broglie, and Prince Xavier of Saxony, leader of the Household Cavalry of France, readily fell into the snare.