Karl von Lothringen, where are your troops which were intended to attack the enemy in the rear?  Where is Trenck with his pandours? where General Nadasti, with his well-disciplined regiments?  If your hope is in these, then despair, and thrust your sword in its sheath.

The Prussians have deserted their camp; the enemy is before them; in their pursuit they have left all behind them; they thought not of earthly possessions, but of honor and victory.  Every thing was left in the camp.  The king’s entire camp-furniture, and even the army treasure.

Karl von Lothringen, hope nothing from Trenck and his pandours; nothing from Nadasti and his regiments.  They have obeyed your commands; they have pressed into the enemy’s camp; they are taking prizes, plundering greedily.  What care they for the battle which thunders and roars before them? the cannon-balls do not reach them; they can enrich themselves in the camp of the Prussians whilst these are gaining a glorious victory.

The battle is not yet decided.  “If Trenck and Nadasti attack our rear,” said the king, “we are lost.”

At, this moment an adjutant announced to him that Trenck and Nadasti were plundering the Prussian camp.

The king’s countenance beamed with delight.  “Let them plunder.” he said, joyfully, “whilst they are so occupied they will not interfere with our important work.  Whilst they plunder, we will conquer.”

Yes, the battle is decided; while the Austrians plundered, the Prussians conquered.  Karl von Lothringen, overcome with grief and shame, is retreating with his disorganized troops.

The Prussians have gained the day, but it was a fearful victory, a murderous battle between brothers, German against German, brother against brother.

The Duke Albrecht, of Brunswick, has fallen by the side of the king; his brother Ludwig lies covered with wounds in the Austrian camp.

Poor Queen Elizabeth Christine, your husband has conquered, but you have both paid dearly for the victory.  The king has lost his tent, his camp-furniture, and eighty thousand ducats, and the baggage of the entire army.  You have lost one brother, and the other lies covered with bloody wounds.  The king has gained the battle.  His is the fame and honor.  You, poor queen, you have only a new grief.  Yours are the tears and the pain.

CHAPTER VII.

After the battle.

The Prussians were resting from their labors, not in comfortable tents or on soft cushions, but on the hard ground, with no protection against sun and wind, and not too distant from the battle-field to hear the heart-rending cries and groans of their dying comrades.  But even these cries and groans were to the triumphant Prussians the sign of their glorious victory, and awoke in those who had escaped unscathed through this terrible fire a feeling of deep gratitude.