The desperate efforts of the Vizier to gain room by moving troops towards his left from the centre, and so extending his lines beyond the Polish right, served but to increase the confusion. The Field-Marshal Jablonowski covered that wing, and the Queen of Poland's brother, the Count de Maligni, pushing forward with infantry, seized a mound, whence his musketry fire dominated the spot where the Vizier stood. The last shots were fired from the two or three cannon which had kept pace with the advance. A French officer rammed home the last charge with his gloves, his wig, and a packet of French papers. Already the roads to Hungary were thronged with fugitives, whose course was marked by dust in columns, when the king decided to seize the victory all but in his grasp already. _Non nobis, non nobis, Domine exercituum, sed Nomini Tuo des gloriam_, he cried in answer to the congratulations of his friends, as he began the decisive movement. Concentrating as rapidly as possible the bulk of the cavalry of the whole army, German and Polish, upon the right wing,[23] he led them to the charge, directly upon the spot where the Vizier with blows, tears, and curses, was endeavouring to rally the soldiers, whom his own ill-conduct had deprived of their wonted valour. The Turkish infantry without pikes, their cavalry without heavy armour, were incapable of withstanding the shock of the heavy German cuirassiers, or of arresting the rush of the Polish nobles, whose spears, as they boasted to their kings, would uphold the heavens should they fall. Their king at their head, they came down like a whirlwind to the shout of "God preserve Poland." The spears of the first line were splintered against the few who awaited them, but their onset was irresistible. Spahis and Janissaries, Tartars and Christian allies alike went down before the Polish lances, or turned and fled in headlong confusion. The old Pasha of Pesth, the greatest of the Turkish warriors in reputation, had fled already. The Pashas of Aleppo and of Silistria perished in the _melée_. "Can you not help me?" cried the Vizier, turning to the Khan of the Crimea. "No," was the reply; "I know the King of Poland well, it is impossible to resist him; think only of flight."[24]