This happened at the very moment when Ismail Pasha was leading the Osmanlis to the tenth assault.
The leader of the Christian host, Montecuculi, no sooner perceived Kiuprile's movement, than he called together his generals and gave them to understand that if they awaited Kiuprile where they stood they would be irretrievably lost.
They were just then loading their guns with their last charge.
Many faces grew pale at this announcement, and a deep silence followed Montecuculi's words. Yet his words were the words of valour. Three heroes had been in his army—one of them, the French general, the Marquis de Brianzon, had already fallen; the other two, still present, were the German general, Toggendorf, and the Hungarian cavalry officer, Petneházy.
At the commander-in-chief's announcement the faces of both remained unmoved, and Toggendorf, with the utmost sang-froid came forward: "If we must choose between two deaths," said he, "why not rather choose death by advancing than death in flight?"
"Not so, my lad," cried Petneházy, enthusiastically grasping his comrade's hand; "we choose between death and glory, and he who seeks glory will find a triumph also."
"So be it," said Montecuculi, with cool satisfaction, thrusting his field-glass into his pocket and drawing forth his thin blade; and, while he sent the two heroes to the two wings, he placed himself in front of the army, and commanded that the barrier of wagons should instantly be demolished.
The last discharge thundered forth, and from amidst the dispersing clouds of smoke two compact army columns could be seen rapidly charging—they were Toggendorf's cuirassiers and Petneházy's hussars.
Petneházy made straight for the still hesitating Moldavian army, which, with Prince Ghyka at its head, had as yet taken no part in the fight. Heaven itself gave him the inspiration. The Prince of Moldavia had been waiting for a long time for some one to attack him, that he might at once quit the field of battle to which he had been constrained to come, though it revolted his feelings as a Christian to do so; consequently, when Petneházy was within fifty yards of his battalions, they, as if at a given signal, turned tail without so much as crossing swords with the foe, galloped off to the left bank of the Waag, and so quitted the field.
This flight threw the whole Turkish army into disorder. A more skilful general would indeed have withdrawn the whole host, but, because of his short-sightedness, Hassan did not perceive that the Moldavians had fled, and nobody durst tell him so. Ismail Pasha immediately hastened to fill up the gap; but before he had reached the spot, Toggendorf's cuirassiers were upon him, and he was caught between two fires in a moment. The Janissaries received the full brunt of the swords of the cuirassiers and the hussars, and in the first onset Ismail Pasha himself fell from his horse. A hussar rushed upon him, and severing from his body his big bared head, stuck it on the point of a lance, and raised it in the air as a very emblem of terror to the panic-stricken Turks. The Janissaries were no longer able to rally, in every direction they broke through the hostile ranks in a desperate attempt at flight, and, which was worse still, the flying infantry barred the way against the cavalry which was hastening to their assistance.