177 THE SEVEN YEARS WAR, 1756-63the back gate of Hochkirch churchyard at bayonet point. The troops
were cut down in the alleyway outside, and Langen himself was now
in the hands of the Austrians, dying of eleven wounds.
Having reassembled what was left of his army, Frederick estab-
lished a camp in the evening at Doberschiitz. That night, in his new
headquarters, he was gripped by the full comprehension of his losses.
The army had clearly suffered very heavily (its casualties and missing
reached 9,097, or nearly one-third of the effectives). He was probably
little affected by the end of Franz of Brunswick, once described as 'a
lovable, gentle, courteous and benevolent prince' (Latouche, in
Volz, 1926-7,1, 274), which was not Frederick's style at all. However,
the king was reduced to tears by the death of Keith, in whom he saw a
fellow spirit as well as an accomplished soldier.
Prince Moritz of Anhalt-Dessau never returned to the service. He
survived his wound, and the experience of being intercepted on the
way back to Dessau by the Austrians, but a lesion on his lip finally
developed into a cancer which killed him before the end of the war. It
had been impossible for Frederick to live on terms of companionship
with this savage eccentric, but Moritz had been the soul of the
infantiy at Leuthen and Zorndorf, and his untutored intelligence had
always been at the king's command.
Frederick talked of these losses with Catt on the same night:
'Just look at how many brave men I have lost! How I loathe the
trade to which I am condemned by the blind chance of my birth!
But I have something on me which can bring this episode to an
end, if it becomes intolerable.' He undid his collar, and from
beneath his shirt he drew out a ribbon, to which was attached a
little oval golden box which had been resting against his chest.
'My friend, this is all I need to furnish the conclusion for my
tragedy.' He opened the little box, and we counted out eighteen
pills. 'These are opium', he explained, 'and the dose is more
than enough to consign me on that dark journey from which
nobody returns.' (Catt, 1884, 190)Frederick successfully concealed the deepest injury of all, which
was to his pride. No other defeat was ever attributed so directly to his
miscalculations, and in no other action were his words and responses
recorded so minutely. Frederick now bitterly regretted his separation
from Retzow and one-quarter of the army on the morning of the 14th:
'At Hochkirch I saw and experienced the sad fate which overtakes an
army when it weakens itself excessively by detachments' (PC 10658).
The lack of vigilance was such as Frederick would not have forgiven
in any of his commanders, as Warnery pointed out (1788, 281), and in
general terms Mitchell concluded that the outcome of the day was