Notwithstanding the insecure position of his army, the King had so little fear of attack that his generals felt it their duty to warn him and to try to dissuade him from his purpose. The camp was so poorly protected that Field-Marshal Keith one day said: “If the Austrians do not attack us here, they deserve to be hanged.”
“Oh,” replied the King, “let us hope they are more afraid of us than of the gallows.”
The Austrian general’s plans were so well made that the proud King had to expiate his contempt in defeat. On the 14th of October, before daybreak, Daun surrounded Hochkirch, in the vicinity of which the Prussians were encamped. They were resting in fancied security when they were suddenly roused by the dreadful thunder of cannon. The whole army was thrown into confusion. Soldiers ran over each other and could hardly find their weapons. In a wild scramble they tried to form in line, but no one could find his comrade, for the enemy’s grapeshot was strewing the ground with bodies. The confusion knew no bounds; everyone was rushing about shouting and panic-stricken, the officers were powerless to check the tumult and disorder.
Zieten and Seydlitz, expecting the enemy’s attack, had not allowed their men to leave their horses through the night. They endeavored to do something, but in the darkness they could not distinguish friend from foe, or escape the murderous fire which mowed down the Prussian ranks as if they had been rows of corn. Never did the sun rise upon a more dreadful spectacle. They turned their eyes away from it, and many of the grizzled warriors could not restrain their tears as they looked upon the awful sight. The signal for retreat was sounded, and notwithstanding the terror and confusion of the scene it was executed in such a masterly manner that Daun was astonished. He did not attempt to pursue, but fell back to his camp as if nothing had occurred. The Prussian loss was excessive. More than nine thousand bodies were lying in that narrow camp area. Beside this, they lost one hundred cannon and nearly all their tents and baggage.
The King had to summon up all his courage. At eleven o’clock that morning he had sadly gazed from an eminence at the fragments of his shattered army. He forced himself to assume a cheerful air, for he knew that all eyes were fixed upon him and that his soldiers were looking to him for consolation and fresh assurance. Therefore he appeared unmoved, and when General Von der Goltz joined him he said, in a facetious way: “My dear Goltz, they did not wake us up very politely.”
“Excuse me, Your Majesty,” replied the General, “we do not usually talk by day about the things which trouble us in sleep.”
“You are right,” said the King, “but some bright day I will return the incivility of these gentlemen who woke us up so rudely.” Though only joking, the King had spoken prophetic words.
We know from the statements of those most intimate with him how deeply Frederick felt this matter. As, after the defeat at Kollin, his troubles were increased by the news of the death of his beloved mother, so now, in the very hour of his defeat at Hochkirch, he heard the sad news of the death of his sister Wilhelmina,[18] the sharer of his youthful troubles. But painful as this news was, when he reflected upon the dangers impending over the Fatherland he controlled his grief and devoted himself to his kingly duties.
Some days after this, October 17, the King summoned all his generals and staff officers and thus addressed them: “You are aware, gentlemen, that the army has suffered from a surprise. The darkness of the night was accountable for it. You must now consider our situation. We are in upper Lusatia. Our property, our wives, our children are far behind us. If we weaken in the least, all will be lost. An immediate battle is inevitable. Rather than submit, I will be buried with the rest of my army. I suppose that every one of you thinks as I do. He who does not, can be spared; he can go home immediately. Is there such a one among you?”
All present hastened to assure the King that they would do their duty as they had always done it. Frederick listened to their declaration with much satisfaction, and replied: “I am delighted, gentlemen, to find the same devotion and self-sacrifice you have always shown. I thank you for it.”