Success had now given confidence to the Austrians, and had proportionably abated the spirit of their enemies.  The Saxons, who had cooperated with the king of Prussia in the conquest of Moravia, of which they expected the perpetual possession, seeing all hopes of sudden acquisition defeated, and the province left again to its former masters, grew weary of following a prince, whom they considered as no longer acting the part of their confederate; and when they approached the confines of Bohemia took a different road, and left the Prussians to their own fortune.

The king continued his march, and Charles his pursuit.  At Czaslau the two armies came in sight of one another, and the Austrians resolved on a decisive day.  On the 6th of May, about seven in the morning, the Austrians began the attack:  their impetuosity was matched by the firmness of the Prussians.  The animosity of the two armies was much inflamed:  the Austrians were fighting for their country, and the Prussians were in a place, where defeat must inevitably end in death or captivity.  The fury of the battle continued four hours:  the Prussian horse were, at length, broken, and the Austrians forced their way to the camp, where the wild troops, who had fought with so much vigour and constancy, at the sight of plunder forgot their obedience, nor had any man the least thought but how to load himself with the richest spoils.

While the right wing of the Austrians was thus employed, the main body was left naked:  the Prussians recovered from their confusion, and regained the day.  Charles was, at last, forced to retire, and carried with him the standards of his enemies, the proofs of a victory, which, though so nearly gained, he had not been able to keep.

The victory, however, was dearly bought; the Prussian army was much weakened, and the cavalry almost totally destroyed.  Peace is easily made when it is necessary to both parties; and the king of Prussia had now reason to believe that the Austrians were not his only enemies.  When he found Charles advancing, he sent to Broglio for assistance, and was answered, that “he must have orders from Versailles.”  Such a desertion of his most powerful ally disconcerted him, but the battle was unavoidable.

When the Prussians were returned to the camp, the king, hearing that an Austrian officer was brought in mortally wounded, had the condescension to visit him.  The officer, struck with this act of humanity, said, after a short conversation:  “I should die, sir, contentedly after this honour, if I might first show my gratitude to your majesty by informing you with what allies you are now united, allies that have no intention but to deceive you.”  The king appearing to suspect this intelligence; “Sir,” said the Austrian, “if you will permit me to send a messenger to Vienna, I believe the queen will not refuse to transmit an intercepted letter now in her hands, which will put my report beyond all doubt.”