The gloom of night was darkening over the exhausted combatants, when the winding of the bugle was heard in the rear of the Austrians, and a band of four hundred Bavarian horsemen came plunging down an eminence into the disordered ranks of Frederic.

The hour of dismay, which decides a battle, had come.

A scene of awful carnage ensued as the routed Austrians, fleeing in every direction, were pursued and massacred.

Frederic himself was struck from his horse, and as he fell, stunned by the blow, he was captured, disarmed and carried to the presence of his rival Louis.
The spirit of Frederic was crushed by the awful, the irretrievable defeat, and he appeared before his conqueror speechless in the extremity of his woe.

Louis had the pride of magnanimity and endeavored to console his captive.
"The battle is not lost by your fault," said he.