e of Salzbach. The young Count of St. Hilaire found him at the
head of his infantry, seated at the foot of a tree, into which he had
ordered an old soldier to climb, in order to have a better view of the
enemy's manoeuvres. The Count of Roye sent to conjure him to reconnoitre
in person the German column that was advancing. "I shall remain where I
am," said Turenne, "unless something important occur;" and he sent off
re-enforcements to M. de Roye; the latter repeated his entreaties; the
marshal asked for his horse, and, at a hard gallop, reached the right of
the army, along a hollow, in order to be under cover from two small
pieces of cannon, which kept up an incessant fire. "I don't at all want
to be killed to-day," he kept saying. He perceived M. do St. Hilaire,
the father, coming to meet him, and asked him what column it was on
account of which he had been sent for. "My father was pointing it out to
him, writes young St. Hilaire, "when, unhappily, the two little pieces
fired: a ball, passing over the quarters of my father's horse, carried
away his left arm and the horse's neck, and struck M. de Turenne in the
left side; he still went forward about twenty paces on his horse's neck,
and fell dead. I ran to my father, who was down, and raised him up.
'No need to weep for me,' he said; 'it is the death of that great man;
you may, perhaps, lose your father, but neither your country nor you will
ever have a general like that again. O, poor army, what is to become of
you?' Tears fell from his eyes; then, suddenly recovering himself, 'Go,
my son, and leave me,' he said; 'with me it will be as God pleases; time
presses; go and do your duty.'" [_Memoires du Marquis de St. Hilaire,_
t. i. p. 205.] They threw a cloak over the corpse of the great general,
and bore it away. "The soldiers raised a cry that was heard two leagues
off," writes Madame de Sevigne; "no consideration could restrain them;
they roared to be led to battle, they wanted to avenge the death of their
father, with him they had feared nothing, but they would show how to
avenge him, let it be left to them; they were frantic, let them be led to
battle." Montecuculli had for a moment halted. "Today a man has fallen
who did honor to man," said he, as he uncovered respectfully. He threw
himself, however, on the rearguard of the French army, which was falling
back upon Elsass, and recrossed the Rhine at Altenheim. The death of
Turenne was equivalent to a de