History of Friedrich II of Prussia - Frederick the Great Chapter V. - Battle of Torgau.
by Thomas Carlyle
After Hulsen's fine explosion on the Durrenberg, August 20th, on
the incompetent Reichs Generals, there had followed nothing
eminent; new futilities, attemptings and desistings, advancings and
recoilings, on the part of the Reich; Hulsen solidly maintaining
himself, in defence of his Torgau Magazine and Saxon interests in
those regions, against such overwhelming odds, till relief and
reinforcement for them and him should arrive; and gaining time,
which was all he could aim at in such circumstances. Had the Torgau
Magazine been bigger, perhaps Hulsen might have sat there to the
end. But having solidly eaten out said Magazine, what could Hulsen
do but again move rearward? [ Hogbericht von dem Ruckzug
des General-Lieutenants von Hulsen aus dem Lager bey Torgau
(in Seyfarth, Beylagen, ii.
755-784).] Above all, on the alarm from Berlin, which called him
off double-quick, things had to go their old road in that quarter.
Weak Torgau was taken, weak Wittenberg besieged. Leipzig, Torgau,
Wittenberg, all that Country, by the time the Russians left Berlin,
was again the Reich's. Eugen and Hulsen, hastening for relief of
Wittenberg, the instant Berlin was free, found Wittenberg a heap of
ruins, out of which the Prussian garrison, very hunger urging, had
issued the day before, as prisoners of war. Nothing more to be done
by Eugen, but take post, within reach of Magdeburg and victual, and
wait new Order from the King.
The King is very unquestionably coming on; leaves Lubben
thitherward October 20th. [Rodenbeck, ii. 35: in Anonymous
of Hamburg (iv. 241-245) Friedrich's Two Marches,
towards and from Berlin (7th-17th October, to Lubben; thence, 20th
October-3d November, to Torgau).] With full fixity of purpose as
usual; but with as gloomy an outlook as ever before. Daun, we said,
is now arrived in those parts: Daun and the Reich together are near
100,000; Daun some 60,000,--Loudon having stayed behind, and gone
southward, for a stroke on Kosel (if Goltz will permit, which he
won't at all!),--and the Reich 35,000. Saxony is all theirs;
cannot they maintain Saxony? Not a Town or a Magazine now belongs
to Friedrich there, and he is in number as 1 to 2.
"Maintain Saxony; indisputably you can!" that is the express Vienna
Order, as Friedrich happens to know. The Russians themselves have
taken Camp again, and wait visibly, about Landsberg and the Warta
Country, till they see Daun certain of executing said Order;
upon which they intend, they also, to winter in those Elbe-Prussian
parts, and conjointly to crush Friedrich into great confinement
indeed. Friedrich is aware of this Vienna Order; which is a kind of
comfort in the circumstances. The intentions of the hungry
Russians, too, are legible to Friedrich; and he is much resolved
that said Order shall be impossible to Daun. "Were it to be
possible, we are landless. Where are our recruits, our magazines,
our resources for a new Campaign? We may as well die, as suffer
that to be possible!" Such is Friedrich's fixed view. He says to
D'Argens:--
"You, as a follower of Epicurus, put a value on life; as for me, I
regard death from the Stoic point of view. Never shall I see the
moment that forces me to make a disadvantageous Peace;
no persuasion, no eloquence, shall ever induce me to sign my
dishonor. Either I will bury myself under the ruins of my Country,
or if that consolation appears too sweet to the Destiny that
persecutes me, I shall know how to put an end to my misfortunes
when it is impossible to bear them any longer. I have acted, and
continue to act, according to that interior voice of conscience and
of honor which directs all my steps: my conduct shall be, in every
time, conformable to those principles. After having sacrificed my
youth to my Father, my ripe years to my Country, I think I have
acquired the right to dispose of my old age. I have told you, and I
repeat it, Never shall my hand sign a humiliating Peace.
Finish this Campaign I certainly will, resolved to dare all, and to
try the most desperate things either to succeed or to find a
glorious end (FIN GLORIEUSE)." [ OEuvres de Frederic,
xix. 202 ("Kemberg, 28th October, 1760," a week and a day
before Torgau).]
Friedrich had marched from Lubben, after three days, settling of
affairs, OCTOBER 20th; arrived at Jessen, on the Elbe, within wind
of Wittenberg, in two days more. "He formed a small magazine at
Duben," says Archenholtz; "and was of a velocity, a sharpness,"--
like lightning, in a manner! Friedrich is uncommonly dangerous when
crushed into a corner, in this way; and Daun knows that he is.
Friedrich's manoeuvrings upon Daun--all readers can anticipate the
general type of them. The studious military reader, if England
boasts any such, will find punctual detail of them in TEMPELHOF and
the German Books. For our poor objects, here is a Summary which
may suffice:--
From Lubben, having winded up these bad businesses,--and reinforced
Goltz, at Glogau, to a 20,000 for Silesia's sake, to look towards
Kosel and Loudon's attempts there,--Friedrich gathered himself into
proper concentration; and with all the strength now left to him
pushed forward (20th October) towards Wittenberg, and recovery of
those lost Saxon Countries. To Wittenberg from Lubben is some 60
miles;--can be done, nearly, in a couple of days. With the King,
after Goltz is furnished, there are about 30,000; Eugen and Hulsen,
not idle for their own part, wait in those far Western or Ultra-
Wittenberg regions (in and beyond Dessau Country), to join him with
their 14,000, when they get signal. Joined with these, he will be
44,000; he will then cross Elbe somewhere, probably not where Daun
and the Reich imagine, and be in contact with his Problem;
with what a pitch of willingness nobody need be told! Daun, in
Torgau Country, has one of the best positions; nor is Daun a man
for getting flurried.
The poor Reichs Army, though it once flattered itself with
intending to dispute Friedrich's passage of the Elbe, and did make
some detachings and manoeuvrings that way, on his approach to
Wittenberg (October 22d-23d),--took a safer view, on his actual
arrival there, on his re-seizure of that ruined place, and
dangerous attitude on the right bank below and above. Safer view,
on salutary second thoughts;--and fell back Leipzig-way, southward
to Duben, 30 or 40 miles. Whence rapidly to Leipzig itself, 30 or
40 more, on his actually putting down his bridges over Elbe.
Friedrich's crossing-place was Schanzhaus, in Dessau Country,
between Roslau and Klikau, 12 or 15 miles below Wittenberg;
about midway between Wittenberg and the inflow of the Mulda into
Elbe. He crossed OCTOBER 26th, no enemy within wind at all; Daun at
Torgau in his inexpugnable Camp, Reichsfolk at Duben, making
towards Leipzig at their best pace. And is now wholly between Elbe
and Mulda; nothing but Mulda and the Anhall Countries and the Halle
Country now to rear of him.
At Jonitz, next march southward, he finds the Eugen-Hulsen people
ready. We said they had not been idle while waiting signal:
of which here is one pretty instance. Eugen's Brother, supreme
Reigning Duke of Wurtemberg,--whom we parted with at Fulda, last
Winter, on sore terms; but who again, zealous creature, heads his
own little Army in French-Austrian service, in still more eclipsed
circumstances ("No subsidy at all, this Year, say your august
Majesties? Well, I must do without: a volunteer; and shall need
only what I can make by forced contributions!" which of course he
is diligent to levy wherever possible),--has latterly taken Halle
Country in hand, very busy raising contributions there: and Eugen
hears, not without interest, that certain regiments or detachments
of his, pushed out, are lying here, there, superintending that
salutary work,--within clutch, perhaps, of Kleist the Hussar!
Eugen despatches Kleist upon him; who pounces with his usual fierce
felicity upon these people. To such alarm of his poor Serenity and
poor Army, that Serenity flies off homeward at once, and out of
these Wars altogether; where he never had other than the reverse of
business to be, and where he has played such a farce-tragedy for
four years back. Eugen has been heard to speak,--theoretically, and
in excited moments,--of "running such a fellow through the body,
were one near him:: but it is actually Eugen in person that sends
him home from these Wars: which may be counted a not unfraternal or
unpatriotic procedure; being of indisputable benefit to the poor
Sovereign man himself, and to everybody concerned with him.
Hearing that Friedrich was across, Daun came westward that same day
(October 26th), and planted himself at Eilenburg; concluding that
the Reichsfolk would now be in jeopardy first of all. Which was
partly the fact; and indeed this Daun movement rather accelerated
the completion of it. Without this the Reichs Army might have lived
another day. It had quitted Duben, and gone in all haste for
Leipzig, at 1 in the morning (not by Eilenburg, of which or of
Daun's arrival there it knows nothing),--"at 1 in the morning of
the 27th," or in fact, so soon as news could reach it at the
gallop, That Friedrich was across. And now Friedrich, seeing Daun
out in this manner, judged that a junction was contemplated;
and that one could not be too swift in preventing it. October 29th,
with one diligent march, Friedrich posted himself at Duben;
there, in a sort now between Daun and the Reichsfolk, detached
Hulsen with a considerable force to visit these latter in Leipzig
itself; and began with all diligence forming "a small Magazine in
Duben," Magdeburg and the current of the Elbe being hitherto his
only resource in that kind. By the time of Hulsen's return, this
little operation will be well forward, and Daun will have declared
himself a little.
Hulsen, evening of October 30th, found Leipzig in considerable
emotion, the Reichsfolk taking refuge in it: not the least inclined
to stand a push, when Hulsen presented himself. Night of 30th-31st,
there was summoning and menacing; Reich endeavoring to answer in
firm style; but all the while industriously packing up to go. By 5
in the morning, things had come to extremity;---morning, happily
for some of us, was dark mist. But about 5 o'clock, Hulsen (or
Hulsen's Second) coming on with menace of fire and sword upon these
poor Reichspeople, found the Reichspeople wholly vanished in the
mist. Gone bodily; in full march for the spurs of the Metal-
Mountain Range again;--concluding, for the fourth time, an
extremely contemptible Campaign. Daun, with the King ahead of him,
made not the least attempt to help them in their Leipzig
difficulty; but retired to his strong Camp at Torgau; feels his
work to lie THERE,--as Friedrich perceives of him, with
some interest.
Hulsen left a little garrison in Leipzig (friend Quintus a part of
it); [Tempelhof, iv. 290.] and returned to the King; whose small
Magazine at Duben, and other small affairs there,--Magdeburg with
boats, and the King with wagons, having been so diligent in
carrying grain thither,--are now about completed. From Daun's
returning to Torgau, Friedrich infers that the cautious man has got
Order from Court to maintain Torgau at all costs,--to risk a battle
rather than go. "Good: he shall have one!" thinks Friedrich.
And, NOVEMBER 2d, in four columns, marches towards Torgau;
to Schilda, that night, which is some seven miles on the southward
side of Torgau. The King, himself in the vanguard as usual, has
watched with eager questioning eye the courses of Daun's advanced
parties, and by what routes they retreat; discerns for certain that
Daun has no views upon Duben or our little Magazine; and that the
tug of wrestle for Torgau, which is to crown this Campaign into
conquest of Saxony, or shatter it into zero like its foregoers on
the Austrian part, and will be of death-or-life nature on the
Prussian part, ought to ensue to-morrow. Forward, then!
This Camp of Torgau is not a new place to Daun. It was Prince
Henri's Camp last Autumn; where Daun tried all his efforts to no
purpose; and though hugely outnumbering the Prince, could make
absolutely nothing of it. Nothing, or less; and was flowing back to
Dresden and the Bohemian Frontier, uncheered by anything, till that
comfortable Maxen Incident turned up. Daun well knows the strength
of this position. Torgau and the Block of Hill to West, called Hill
of Siptitz:--Hulsen, too, stood here this Summer; not to mention
Finck and Wunsch, and their beating the Reichspeople here. A Hill
and Post of great strength; not unfamiliar to many Prussians, nor
to Friedrich's studious considerations, though his knowledge of it
was not personal on all points;--as To-morrow taught him, somewhat
to his cost.
"Tourists, from Weimar and the Thuringian Countries," says a Note-
book, sometimes useful to us, "have most likely omitted Rossbach in
their screaming railway flight eastward; and done little in Leipzig
but endeavor to eat dinner, and, still more vainly, to snatch a
little sleep in the inhuman dormitories of the Country.
Next morning, screaming Dresden-ward, they might, especially if
military, pause at Oschatz, a stage or two before Meissen, where
again are objects of interest. You can look at Hubertsburg, if
given that way,--a Royal Schloss, memorable on several grounds;--at
Hubertsburg, and at other features, in the neighborhood of Oschatz.
This done, or this left not done, you strike off leftward, that is
northward, in some open vehicle, for survey of Torgau and its
vicinities and environs. Not above fifteen miles for you; a drive
singular and pleasant; time enough to return and be in Dresden
for dinner.
"Torgau is a fine solid old Town; Prussian military now abundant in
it. In ancient Heathen times, I suppose, it meant the GAU, or
District, of THOR; Capital of that Gau,--part of which, now under
Christian or quasi-Christian circumstances, you have just been
traversing, with Elbe on your right hand. Innocent rural aspects of
Humanity, Boor's life, Gentry's life, all the way, not in any
holiday equipment; on the contrary, somewhat unkempt and scraggy,
but all the more honest and inoffensive. There is sky, earth, air,
and freedom for your own reflections: a really agreeable kind of
Gau; pleasant, though in part ugly. Large tracts of it are pine-
wood, with pleasant Villages and fine arable expanses interspersed.
Schilda and many Villages you leave to right and left.
Old-fashioned Villages, with their village industries visible
around; laboring each in its kind,--not too fast; probably with
extinct tobacco-pipe hanging over its chin (KALT-RAUCHEND, 'smoking
COLD,' as they phrase it).
"Schilda has an absurd celebrity among the Germans: it is the
Gotham of Teutschland; a fountain of old broad-grins and homely and
hearty rustic banter; welling up from the serious extinct Ages to
our own day; 'SCHILTburger' (Inhabitant of SCHILDA) meaning still,
among all the Teutsch populations, a man of calmly obstinate whims
and delusions, of notions altogether contrary to fact, and
agreeable to himself only; resolutely pushing his way through life
on those terms: amid horse-laughter, naturally, and general wagging
of beards from surrounding mankind. Extinct mirth, not to be
growled at or despised, in Ages running to the shallow, which have
lost their mirth, and become all one snigger of mock-mirth. For it
is observable, the more solemn is your background of DARK, the
brighter is the play of all human genialities and coruscations on
it,--of genial mirth especially, in the hour for mirth. Who the
DOCTOR BORDEL of Schilda was, I do not know: but they have had
their Bordel, as Gotham had;--probably various Bordels;
industrious to pick up those Spiritual fruits of the earth. For the
records are still abundant and current; fully more alive than those
of Gotham here are.--And yonder, then, is actually Schilda of the
absurd fame. A small, cheerful-looking human Village, in its Island
among the Woods; you see it lying to the right:--a clean brick-
slate congeries, with faint smoke-canopy hanging over it,
indicating frugal dinner-kettles on the simmer;--and you remember
kindly those good old grinnings, over good SCHILTBURGER, good WISE
MEN OF GOTHAM, and their learned Chroniclers, and unlearned Peasant
Producers, who have contributed a wrinkle of human Fun to the
earnest face of Life.
"After Schilda, and before, you traverse long tracts of Pine
Forest, all under forest management; with long straight stretches
of sandy road (one of which is your own), straight like red tape-
strings, intersecting the wide solitudes: dangerous to your
topographies,--for the finger-posts are not always there, and human
advice you can get none. Nothing but the stripe of blue sky
overhead, and the brown one of tape (or sand) under your feet:
the trees poor and mean for most part, but so innumerable, and all
so silent, watching you all like mute witnesses, mutely whispering
together; no voice but their combined whisper or big forest SOUGH
audible to you in the world:--on the whole, your solitary ride
there proves, unexpectedly, a singular deliverance from the mad
railway, and its iron bedlamisms and shrieking discords and
precipitances; and is soothing, and pensively welcome, though sad
enough, and in outward features ugly enough. No wild boars are now
in these woods, no chance of a wolf:"--what concerns us more is,
that Friedrich's columns, on the 3d of November, had to march up
through these long lanes, or tape-stripes of the Torgau Forest;
and that one important column, one or more, took the wrong turn at
some point, and was dangerously wanting at the expected moment!--
"Torgau itself stands near Elbe; on the shoulder, eastern or Elbe-
ward shoulder, of a big mass of Knoll, or broad Height, called of
Siptitz, the main Eminence of the Gau. Shoulder, I called it, of
this Height of Siptitz; but more properly it is on a continuation,
or lower ulterior height dipping into Elbe itself, that Torgau
stands. Siptitz Height, nearly a mile from Elbe, drops down into a
straggle of ponds; after which, on a second or final rise, comes
Torgau dipping into Elbe. Not a shoulder strictly, but rather a
CHEEK, with NECK intervening;--neck GOITRY for that matter, or
quaggy with ponds! The old Town stands high enough, but is enlaced
on the western and southern side by a set of lakes and quagmires,
some of which are still extensive and undrained. The course of the
waters hereabouts; and of Elbe itself, has had its intricacies:
close to northwest, Torgau is bordered, in a straggling way, by
what they call OLD ELBE; which is not now a fluent entity, but a
stagnant congeries of dirty waters and morasses. The Hill of
Siptitz abuts in that aqueous or quaggy manner; its forefeet being,
as it were, at or in Elbe River, and its sides, to the South and to
the North for some distance each way, considerably enveloped in
ponds and boggy difficulties.
"Plenty of water all about, but I suppose mostly of bad quality;
at least Torgau has declined drinking it, and been at the trouble
to lay a pipe, or ROHRGRABEN, several miles long, to bring its
culinary water from the western neighborhoods of Siptitz Height.
Along the southern side of Siptitz Height goes leisurely an
uncomfortable kind of Brook, called the 'ROHRGRABEN (Pipe-Ditch);'
the meaning of which unexpected name you find to be, That there is
a SERVICE-PIPE laid cunningly at the bottom of this Brook;
lifting the Brook at its pure upper springs, and sending it along,
in secret tubular quasi-bottled condition; leaving the fouler
drippings from the neighborhood to make what 'brook' they still
can, over its head, and keep it out of harm's way till Torgau get
it. This is called the ROHRGRABEN, this which comes running through
Siptitz Village, all along by the southern base of Siptitz Hill;
to the idle eye, a dirtyish Brook, ending in certain notable Ponds
eastward: but to the eye of the inquiring mind, which has pierced
deeper, a Tube of rational Water, running into the throats of
Torgau, while the so-called Brook disembogues at discretion into
the ENTEFANG (Duck-trap), and what Ponds or reedy Puddles there
are,"--of which, in poor Wunsch's fine bit of fighting, last Year,
we heard mention. Let readers keep mind of them.
The Hill Siptitz, with this ROHRGRABEN at the southern basis of it,
makes a very main figure in the Battle now imminent. Siptitz Height
is, in fact, Daun's Camp; where he stands intrenched to the utmost,
repeatedly changing his position, the better to sustain Friedrich's
expected attacks. It is a blunt broad-backed Elevation, mostly in
vineyard, perhaps on the average 200 feet above the general level,
and of five or six square miles in area: length, east to west, from
Grosswig neighborhood to the environs of Torgau, may be about three
miles; breadth, south to north, from the Siptitz to the Zinna
neighborhoods, above half that distance. The Height is steepish on
the southern side, all along to the southwest angle (which was
Daun's left flank in the great Action coming), but swells up with
easier ascent on the west, earth and other sides. Let the reader
try for some conception of its environment and it, as the floor or
arena of a great transaction this day.
Daun stands fronting southward along these Siptitz Heights, looking
towards Schilda and his dangerous neighbor; heights, woods, ponds
and inaccessibilities environing his Position and him. One of the
strongest positions imaginable; which, under Prince Henri, proved
inexpugnable enough to some of us. A position not to be attacked on
that southern front, nor on either of its flanks:--where can it be
attacked? Impregnable, under Prince Henri in far inferior force:
how will you take it from Daun in decidedly superior? A position
not to be attacked at all, most military men would say;--though One
military man, in his extreme necessity, must and will find a way
into it.
One fault, the unique military man, intensely pondering, discovers
that it has: it is too small for Daun; not area enough for
manoeuvring 65,000 men in it; who will get into confusion if
properly dealt with. A most comfortable light-flash, the EUREKA of
this terrible problem. "We will attack it on rear and on front
simultaneously; that is the way to handle it!" Yes; simultaneously,
though that is difficult, say military judges; perhaps to Prussians
it may be possible. It is the opinion of military judges who have
studied the matter, that Friedrich's plan, could it have been
perfectly executed, might have got not only victory from Daun, but
was capable to fling his big Army and him pell-mell upon the Elbe
Bridge, that is to say, in such circumstances, into Elbe River, and
swallow him bodily at a frightful rate! That fate was spared
poor Daun.
MONDAY, 3d NOVEMBER, 1760, at half-past 6 in the morning Friedrich
is on march for this great enterprise. The march goes northward, in
Three Columns, with a Fourth of Baggage; through the woods, on four
different roads; roads, or combinations of those intricate sandy
avenues already noticed. Northward all of it at first; but at a
certain point ahead (at crossing of the Eilenburg-Torgau Road,
namely), the March is to divide itself in two. Half of the force is
to strike off rightward there with Ziethen, and to issue on the
south side of Siptitz Hill; other half, under Friedrich himself, to
continue northward, long miles farther, and then at last bending
round, issue--simultaneously with Ziethen, if possible--upon
Siptitz Hill from the north side. We are about 44,000 strong,
against Daun, who is 65,000.
Simultaneously with Ziethen, so far as humanly possible: that is
the essential point! Friedrich has taken every pains that it shall
be correct, in this and all points; and to take double assurance of
hiding it from Daun, he yesternight, in dictating his Orders on the
other heads of method, kept entirely to himself this most important
Ziethen portion of the Business. And now, at starting, he has taken
Ziethen in his carriage with him a few miles, to explain the thing
by word of mouth. At the Eilenburg road, or before it, Ziethen
thinks he is clear as to everything; dismounts; takes in hand the
mass intrusted to him; and strikes off by that rightward course:
"Rightward, Herr Ziethen; rightward till you get to Klitschen, your
first considerable island in this sea of wood; at Klitschen strike
to the left into the woods again,-- your road is called the Butter-
Strasse (BUTTER-STREET); goes by the northwest side of Siptitz
Height; reach Siptitz by the Butter-Street, and then do
your endeavor!"
With the other Half of his Army, specially with the First Column of
it, Friedrich proceeds northward on his own part of the adventure.
Three Columns he has, besides the Baggage one: in number about
equal to Ziethen's; if perhaps otherwise, rather the chosen Half;
about 8,000 grenadier and footguard people, with Kleist's Hussars,
are Friedrich's own Column. Friedrich's Column marches nearest the
Daun positions; the Baggage-column farthest; and that latter is to
halt, under escort, quite away to left or westward of the
disturbance coming; the other Two Columns, Hulsen's of foot,
Holstein's mostly of horse, go through intermediate tracks of wood,
by roads more or less parallel; and are all, Friedrich's own
Column, still more the others, to leave Siptitz several miles to
right, and to end, not AT Siptitz Height, but several miles past
it, and then wheeling round, begin business from the northward or
rearward side of Daun, while Ziethen attacks or menaces his front,
--simultaneously, if possible. Friedrich's march, hidden all by
woods, is more than twice as far as Ziethen's,--some 14 or 15 miles
in all; going straight northward 10 miles; thence bending eastward,
then southward through woods; to emerge about Neiden, there to
cross a Brook (Striebach), and strike home on the north side of
Daun. The track of march is in the shape somewhat of a shepherd's
crook; the long HANDLE of it, well away from Siptitz, reaches up to
Neiden, this is the straight or wooden part of said crook; after
which comes the bent, catching, or iron part,--intended for Daun
and his fierce flock. Ziethen has hardly above six miles; and ought
to be deliberate in his woodlands, till the King's party have time
to get round.
The morning, I find, is wet; fourteen miles of march: fancy such a
Promenade through the dripping Woods; heavy, toilsome, and with
such errand ahead! The delays were considerable; some of them
accidental. Vigilant Daun has Detachments watching in these Woods:
--a General Ried, who fires cannon and gets off: then a General St.
Ignon and the St. Ignon Regiment of Dragoons; who, being BETWEEN
Column First and Column Second, cannot get away; but, after some
industry by Kleist and those of Column Two, are caught and
pocketed, St. Ignon himself prisoner among the rest. This delay may
perhaps be considered profitable: but there were other delays
absolutely without profit. For example, that of having difficulties
with your artillery-wagons in the wet miry lanes; that of missing
your road, at some turn in the solitary woods; which latter was the
sad chance of Column Third, fatally delaying it for many hours.
Daun, learning by those returned parties from the Woods what the
Royal intentions on him are, hastily whirls himself round, so as to
front north, and there receive Friedrich: best line northward for
Friedrich's behoof; rear line or second-best will now receive
Ziethen or what may come. Daun's arrangements are admitted to be
prompt and excellent. Lacy, with his 20,000,--who lay, while
Friedrich's attack was expected from south, at Loswig, as advanced
guard, east side of the GROSSE TEICH (supreme pond of all, which is
a continuation of the Duck-trap, ENTEFANG, and hangs like a chief
goitre on the goitry neck of Torgau),--Lacy is now to draw himself
north and westward, and looking into the Entefang over his left
shoulder (so to speak), be rear-guard against any Ziethen or
Prussian party that may come. Daun's baggage is all across the
Elbe, all in wagons since yesterday; three Bridges hanging for Daun
and it, in case of adverse accident. Daun likewise brings all or
nearly all his cannon to the new front, for Friedrich's behoof:
200 new pieces hither; Archenholtz says 400 in whole;
certainly such a weight of artillery as never appeared in Battle
before. Unless Friedrich's arrangements prove punctual, and his
stroke be emphatic, Friedrich may happen to fare badly. On the
latter point, of emphasis, there is no dubiety for Friedrich:
but on the former,--things are already past doubt, the wrong way!
For the last hour or so of Friedrich's march there has been
continual storm of cannonade and musketry audible from Ziethen's
side:--"Ziethen engaged!" thinks everybody; and quickens step here,
under this marching music from the distance. Which is but a wrong
reading or mistake, nothing more; the real phenomenon being as
follows: Ziethen punctually got to Klitschen at the due hour;
struck into the BUTTER-STRASSE, calculating his paces; but, on the
edge of the Wood found a small Austrian party, like those in
Friedrich's route; and, pushing into it, the Austrian party replied
with cannon before running. Whereupon Ziethen, not knowing how
inconsiderable it was, drew out in battle-order; gave it a salvo or
two; drove it back on Lacy, in the Duck-trap direction,--a long way
east of Butter-Street, and Ziethen's real place;--unlucky that he
followed it so far! Ziethen followed it; and got into some languid
dispute with Lacy: dispute quite distant, languid, on both sides,
and consisting mainly of cannon; but lasting in this way many
precious hours. This is the phenomenon which friends, in the
distance read to be, "Ziethen engaged!" Engaged, yes, and alas with
what? What Ziethen's degree of blame was, I do not know.
Friedrich thought it considerable:--"Stupid, stupid, MEIN LIEBER!"
which Ziethen never would admit;--and, beyond question, it was of
high detriment to Friedrich this day. Such accidents, say military
men, are inherent, not to be avoided, in that double form of
attack: which may be true, only that Friedrich had no choice left
of forms just now.
About noon Friedrich's Vanguard (Kleist and Hussars), about 1
o'clock Friedrich himself, 7 or 8,000 Grenadiers, emerged from the
Woods about Neiden. This Column, which consists of choice troops,
is to be Front-line of the Attack. But there is yet no Second
Column under Hulsen, still less any Third under Holstein, come in
sight: and Ziethen's cannonade is but too audible. Friedrich halts;
sends Adjutants to hurry on these Columns;--and rides out
reconnoitring, questioning peasants; earnestly surveying Daun's
ground and his own. Daun's now right wing well eastward about Zinna
had been Friedrich's intended point of attack; but the ground, out
there, proves broken by boggy brooks and remnant stagnancies of the
Old Elbe: Friedrich finds he must return into the Wood again;
and attack Daun's left. Daun's left is carefully drawn down EN
POTENCE, or gallows-shape there; and has, within the Wood,
carefully built by Prince Henri last year, an extensive Abatis, or
complete western wall,--only the north part of which is perhaps now
passable, the Austrians having in the cold time used a good deal of
it as firewood lately. There, on the northwest corner of Daun,
across that weak part of the Abatis, must Friedrich's attack lie.
But Friedrich's Columns are still fatally behind,--Holstein, with
all the Cavalry we have, so precious at present, is wandering by
wrong paths; took the wrong turn at some point, and the Adjutant
can hardly find him at all, with his precept of "Haste, Haste!"
We may figure Friedrich's humor under these ill omens.
Ziethen's cannonade becomes louder and louder; which Friedrich
naturally fancies to be death or life to him,--not to mean almost
nothing, as it did. "MEIN GOTT, Ziethen is in action, and I have
not my Infantry up!" [Tempelhof, iv. 303.] cried he. And at length
decided to attack as he was: Grenadiers in front, the chosen of his
Infantry; Ramin's Brigade for second line; and, except about 800 of
Kleist, no Cavalry at all. His battalions march out from Neiden
hand, through difficult brooks, Striebach and the like, by bridges
of Austrian build, which the Austrians are obliged to quit in
hurry. The Prussians are as yet perpendicular to Daun, but will
wheel rightward, into the Domitsch Wood again; and then form,--
parallel to Daun's northwest shoulder; and to Prince Henri's
Abatis, which will be their first obstacle in charging.
Their obstacles in forming were many and intricate; ground so
difficult, for artillery especially: seldom was seen such
expertness, such willingness of mind. And seldom lay ahead of men
such obstacles AFTER forming! Think only of one fact: Daun, on
sight of their intention, has opened 400 pieces of Artillery on
them, and these go raging and thundering into the hem of the Wood,
and to whatever issues from it, now and for hours to come, at a
rate of deafening uproar and of sheer deadliness, which no observer
can find words for.
Archenholtz, a very young officer of fifteen, who came into it
perhaps an hour hence, describes it as a thing surpassable only by
Doomsday: clangorous rage of noise risen to the infinite;
the boughs of the trees raining down on you, with horrid crash;
the Forest, with its echoes, bellowing far and near, and
reverberating in universal death-peal; comparable to the Trump of
Doom. Friedrich himself, who is an old hand, said to those about
him: "What an infernal fire (HOLLISCHES FEUER)! Did you ever hear
such a cannonade before? I never." [Tempelhof, iv. 304;
Archenholtz, ii. 164.] Friedrich is between the Two Lines of his
Grenadiers, which is his place during the attack: the first Line of
Grenadiers, behind Prince Henri's Abatis, is within 800 yards of
Daun; Ramin's Brigade is to rear of the Second Line, as a Reserve.
Horse they have none, except the 800 Kleist Hussars; who stand to
the left, outside the Wood, fronted by Austrian Horse in hopeless
multitude. Artillery they have, in effect, none: their Batteries,
hardly to be got across these last woody difficulties of trees
growing and trees felled, did rank outside the Wood, on their left;
but could do absolutely nothing (gun-carriages and gunners,
officers and men, being alike blown away); and when Tempelhof saw
them afterwards, they never had been fired at all. The Grenadiers
have their muskets, and their hearts and their right-hands.
With amazing intrepidity, they, being at length all ready in rank
within 800 yards, rush into the throat of this Fire-volcano; in the
way commanded,--which is the alone way: such a problem as human
bravery seldom had. The Grenadiers plunge forward upon the throat
of Daun; but it is into the throat of his iron engines and his
tearing billows of cannon-shot that most of them go. Shorn down by
the company, by the regiment, in those terrible 800 yards,--then
and afterwards. Regiment STUTTERHEIM was nearly all killed and
wounded, say the Books. You would fancy it was the fewest of them
that ever got to the length of selling their lives to Daun, instead
of giving them away to his 400 cannon. But it is not so.
The Grenadiers, both Lines of them, still in quantity, did get into
contact with Daun. And sold him their lives, hand to hand, at a
rate beyond example in such circumstances;--Daun having to hurry up
new force in streams upon them; resolute to purchase, though the
price, for a long while, rose higher and higher.
At last the 6,000 Grenadiers, being now reduced to the tenth man,
had to fall back. Upon which certain Austrian Battalions rushed
dawn in chase, counting it Victory come: but were severely
admonished of that mistake; and driven back by Ramin's people, who
accompanied them into their ranks and again gave Daun a great deal
of trouble before he could overpower them. This is Attack First,
issuing in failure first: one of the stiffest bits of fighting ever
known. Began about 2 in the afternoon; ended, I should guess,
rather after 3. Daun, by this time, is in considerable disorder of
line; though his 400 fire-throats continue belching ruin, and
deafening the world, without abatement. Daun himself had got
wounded in the foot or leg during this Attack, but had no time to
mind it: a most busy, strong and resolute Daun; doing his very
best. Friedrich, too, was wounded,--nobody will tell me in which of
these attacks;--but I think not now, at least will not speak of it
now. What his feelings were, as this Grenadier Attack went on,--a
struggle so unequal, but not to be helped, from the delays that had
risen,--nobody, himself least of all, records for us: only by this
little symptom: Two Grandsons of the Old Dessauer's are Adjutants
of his Majesty, and well loved by him; one of them now at his hand,
the other heading his regiment in this charge of Grenadiers.
Word comes to Friedrich that this latter one is shot dead. On which
Friedrich, turning to the Brother, and not hiding his emotion, as
was usual in such moments, said: "All goes ill to-day; my friends
are quitting me. I have just heard that your Brother is killed
(TOUT VA MAL AUJOURD'HUI; MES AMIS ME QUITTENT. ON VIENT DE
M'ANNONCER LA MORT DE VOTRE FRERE)!" [Preuss, ii. 226.] Words which
the Anhalt kindred, and the Prussian military public, treasured up
with a reverence strange to us. Of Anhalt perhaps some word by and
by, at a fitter season.
Shortly after 3, as I reckon the time, Hulsen's Column did arrive:
choice troops these too, the Pomeranian MANTEUFFEL, one regiment of
them;--young Archenholtz of FORCADE (first Battalion here, second
and third are with Ziethen, making vain noise) was in this Column;
came, with the others, winding to the Wood's edge, in such
circuits, poor young soul; rain pouring, if that had been worth
notice; cannon-balls plunging, boughs crashing, such a TODES-
POSAUNE, or Doomsday-Thunder, broken loose:--they did emerge
steadily, nevertheless, he says, "like sea-billows or flow of tide,
under the smoky hurricane." Pretty men are here too, Manteuffel
Pommerners; no hearts stouter. With these, and the indignant
Remnants which waited for them, a new assault upon Daun is set
about. And bursts out, on that same northwest corner of him;
say about half-past 3. The rain is now done, "blown away by the
tremendous artillery," thinks Archenholtz, if that were any matter.
The Attack, supported by a few more Horse (though Column Three
still fatally lingers), and, I should hope, by some practicable
weight of Field-batteries, is spurred by a grimmer kind of
indignation, and is of fiercer spirit than ever. Think how
Manteuffel of Foot will blaze out; and what is the humor of those
once overwhelmed Remnants, now getting air again! Daun's line is
actually broken in this point, his artillery surmounted and become
useless; Daun's potence and north front are reeling backwards,
Prussians in possession of their ground. "The field to be ours!"
thinks Friedrich, for some time. If indeed Ziethen had been
seriously busy on the southern side of things, instead of vaguely
cannonading in that manner! But resolute Daun, with promptitude,
calls in his Reserve from Grosswig, calls in whatsoever of
disposable force he can gather; Daun rallies, rushes again on the
Prussians in overpowering number; and, in spite of their most
desperate resistance, drives them back, ever back; and recovers
his ground.
A very desperate bout, this Second one; probably the toughest of
the Battle: but the result again is Daun's; the Prussians palpably
obliged to draw back. Friedrich himself got wounded here;--poor
young Archenholtz too, ONLY wounded, not killed, as so many were:--
Friedrich's wound was a contusion on the breast; came of some spent
bit of case-shot, deadened farther by a famed pelisse he wore,--
"which saved my life," he said afterwards to Henri. The King
himself little regarded it (mentioning it only to Brother Henri, on
inquiry and solicitation), during the few weeks it still hung about
him. The Books intimate that it struck him to the earth, void of
consciousness for some time, to the terror of those about him;
and that he started up, disregarding it altogether in this press of
business, and almost as if ashamed of himself, which imposed
silence on people's tongues. In military circles there is still, on
this latter point, an Anecdote; which I cannot confirm or deny, but
will give for the sake of Berenhorst and his famed Book on the ART
OF WAR. Berenhorst--a natural son of the Old Dessauer's, and
evidently enough a chip of the old block, only gone into the
articulate-speaking or intellectual form--was, for the present, an
Adjutant or Aide-de-camp of Friedrich's; and at this juncture was
seen bending over the swooned Friedrich, perhaps with an over-
pathos or elaborate something in his expression of countenance:
when Friedrich reopened his indignant eyes: "WAS MACHT ER HIER?"
cried Friedrich: "ER SAMMLE FUYARDS! What have you to do here? Go
and gather runaways" (be of some real use, can't you)!--which
unkind cut struck deep into Berenhorst, they say; and could never
after be eradicated from his gloomy heart. It is certain he became
Prince Henri's Adjutant soon after, and that in his KRIEGSKUNST,
amidst the clearest orthodox admiration, he manifests, by little
touches up and down, a feeling of very fell and pallid quality
against the King; and belongs, in a peculiarly virulent though
taciturn way, to the Opposition Party. H1s Book, next to English
Lloyd's (or perhaps superior, for Berenhorst is of much the more
cultivated intellect, highly condensed too, though so discursive
and far-read, were it not for the vice of perverse diabolic
temper), seemed, to a humble outsider like myself, greatly the
strongest-headed, most penetrating and humanly illuminative I had
had to study on that subject. Who the weakest-headed was (perhaps
JOMINI, among the widely circulating kind?), I will not attempt to
decide, so great is the crush in that bad direction. To return.
This Second Attack is again a repulse to the indignant Friedrich;
though he still persists in fierce effort to recover himself:
and indeed Daun's interior, too, it appears, is all in a whirl of
confusion; his losses too having been enormous:--when, see, here at
length, about half-past 4, Sun now down, is the tardy Holstein,
with his Cavalry, emerging from the Woods. Comes wending on yonder,
half a mile to north of us; straight eastward or Elbe-ward
(according to the order of last night), leaving us and our death-
struggles unregarded, as a thing that is not on his tablets, and is
no concern of Holstein's. Friedrich halts him, not quite too late;
organizes a new and third Attack. Simultaneous universal effort of
foot and horse upon Daun's Front; Holstein himself, who is almost
at Zinna by this time, to go upon Daun's right wing. This is Attack
Third; and is of sporadic intermittent nature, in the thickening
dusk and darkness: part of it successful, none of it beaten, but
nowhere the success complete. Thus, in the extreme west or leftmost
of Friedrich's attack, SPAEN Dragoons,--one of the last Horse
Regiments of Holstein's Column,--SPAEN Dragoons, under their
Lieutenant-Colonel Dalwig (a beautiful manoeuvrer, who has stormed
through many fields, from Mollwitz onwards), cut in, with an
admired impetuosity, with an audacious skill, upon, the Austrian
Infantry Regiments there; broke them to pieces, took two of them in
the lump prisoners; bearded whole torrents of Austrian cavalry
rushing up to the rescue,--and brought off their mass of prisoner
regiments and six cannon;--the Austrian rescuers being charged by
some new Prussian party, and hunted home again. [Tempelhof, iv.
305.] "Had these Prussian Horse been on their ground at 2 o'clock,
and done as now, it is very evident," says Tempelhof, "what the
Battle of Torgau had by this time been!"
Near by, too, farther rightwards, if in the bewildering
indistinctness I might guess where (but the where is not so
important to us), Baireuth Dragoons, they of the 67 standards at
Striegau long since, plunged into the Austrian Battalions at an
unsurpassable rate; tumbled four regiments of them (Regiment
KAISER, Regiment NEIPPERG,--nobody now cares which four) heels over
head, and in few minutes took the most of them prisoners;
bringing them home too, like Dalwig, through crowds of rescuers.
Eastward, again, or Elbe-ward, Holstein has found such intricacies
of ground, such boggy depths and rough steeps, his Cavalry could
come to no decisive sabring with the Austrian; but stood exchanging
shot;--nothing to be done on that right wing of Daun.
Daun's left flank, however, does appear, after Three such Attacks,
to be at last pretty well ruined: Tempelhof says, "Daun's whole
Front Line was tumbled to pieces; disorder had, sympathetically,
gone rearward, even in those eastern parts; and on the western and
northwestern the Prussian Horse Regiments were now standing in its
place." But, indeed, such charging and recharging, pulsing and
repulsing, has there been hereabouts for hours past, the rival
Hosts have got completely interpenetrated; Austrian parties, or
whole regiments, are to rear of those Prussians who stand ranked
here, and in victorious posture, as the Night sinks. Night is now
sinking on this murderous day: "Nothing more to be made of it;
try it again to-morrow!" thinks the King; gives Hulsen charge of
bivouacking and re-arranging these scattered people; and rides with
escort northwestward to Elsnig, north of Neiden, well to rear of
this bloody arena,--in a mood of mind which may be figured as
gloomy enough.
Daun, too, is home to Torgau,--1 think, a little earlier,--to have
his wound dressed, now that the day seems to him secure.
Buccow, Daun's second, is killed; Daun's third is an Irish Graf
O'Donnell, memorable only on this one occasion; to this O'Donnell,
and to Lacy, who is firm on his ground yonder, untouched all day,
the charge of matters is left. Which cannot be a difficult one,
hopes Daun. Daun, while his wound is dressing, speeds off a courier
to Vienna. Courier did enter duly there, with glorious trumpeting
postilions, and universal Hep-hep-hurrah; kindling that ardently
loyal City into infinite triumph and illumination,--for the space
of certain hours following.
Hulsen meanwhile has been doing his best to get into proper bivouac
for the morrow; has drawn back those eastward horse regiments,
drawn forward the infantry battalions; forward, I think, and well
rightward, where, in the daytime, Daun's left flank was. On the
whole, it is northwestward that the general Prussian Bivouac for
this night is; the extremest SOUTHwestern-most portion of it is
Infantry, under General Lestwitz; a gallant useful man, who little
dreams of becoming famous this dreary uncertain night.
It is 6 o'clock. Damp dusk has thickened down into utter darkness,
on these terms:--when, lo, cannonade and musketade from the south,
audible in the Lestwitz-Hulsen quarters: seriously loud; red glow
of conflagration visible withal,--some unfortunate Village going up
("Village of Siptitz, think you?"); and need of Hulsen at his
fastest! Hulsen, with some readiest Foot Regiments, circling round,
makes thitherward; Lestwitz in the van. Let us precede him thither,
and explain a little what it was.
Ziethen, who had stood all day making idle noises,--of what a fatal
quality we know, if Ziethen did not,--waiting for the King's
appearance, must have been considerably displeased with himself at
nightfall, when the King's fire gradually died out farther and
farther north, giving rise to the saddest surmises.
Ziethen's Generals, Saldern and the Leuthen Mollendorf, are full of
gloomy impatience, urgent on him to try something. "Push westward,
nearer the King? Some stroke at the enemy on their south or
southwestern side, where we have not molested them all day?
No getting across the Rohrgraben on them, says your Excellenz?
Siptitz Village, and their Battery there, is on our side of the
Rohrgraben:--UM GOTTES WILLEN, something, Herr General!"
Ziethen does finally assent: draws leftward, westward;
unbuckles Saldern's people upon Siptitz; who go like sharp hounds
from the slip; fasten on Siptitz and the Austrians there, with a
will; wrench these out, force them to abandon their Battery, and to
set Siptitz on fire, while they run out of it. Comfortable bit of
success, so far,--were not Siptitz burning, so that we cannot get
through. "Through, no: and were we through, is not there the
Rohrgraben?" thinks Ziethen, not seeing his way.
How lucky that, at this moment, Mollendorf comes in, with a
discovery to westward; discovery of our old friend "the Butter-
Street,"--it is nothing more,--where Ziethen should have marched
this morning: there would he have found a solid road across the
Rohrgraben, free passage by a bridge between two bits of ponds, at
the SCHAFEREI (Sheep-Farm) of Siptitz yonder. "There still,"
reports Mollendorf, "the solid road is; unbeset hitherto, except by
me Mollendorf!" Thitherward all do now hasten, Austrians,
Prussians: but the Prussians are beforehand; Mollendorf is master
of the Pass, deploying himself on the other side of it, and Ziethen
and everybody hastening through to support him there, and the
Austrians making fierce fight in vain. The sound of which has
reached Hulsen, and set Lestwitz and him in motion thither.
For the thing is vital, if we knew it. Close ahead of Mollendorf,
when he is through this Pass, close on Mollendorf's left, as he
wheels round on the attacking Austrians, is the southwest corner of
Siptitz Height. Southwest corner, highest point of it; summit and
key of all that Battle area; rules it all, if you get cannon
thither. It hangs steepish on the southern side, over the
Rohrgraben, where this Mollendorf-Austrian fight begins; but it is
beautifully accessible, if you bear round to the west side,--a fine
saddle-shaped bit of clear ground there, in shape like the outside
or seat of a saddle; Domitsch Wood the crupper part; summit of this
Height the pommel, only nothing like so steep:--it is here (on tho
southern saddle-flap, so to speak), gradually mounting westward to
the crupper-and-pommel part, that the agony now is.
And here, in utter darkness, illuminated only by the musketry and
cannon blazes, there ensued two hours of stiff wrestling in its
kind: not the fiercest spasm of all, but the final which decided
all. Lestwitz, Hulsen, come sweeping on, led by the sound and the
fire; "beating the Prussian march, they," sharply on all their
drums,--Prussian march, rat-tat-tan, sharply through the gloom of
Chaos in that manner; and join themselves, with no mistake made, to
Mollendorf's, to Ziethen's left and the saddle-flap there, and fall
on. The night is pitch-dark, says Archenholtz; you cannot see your
hand before you. Old Hulsen's bridle-horses were all shot away,
when he heard this alarm, far off: no horse left; and he is old,
and has his own bruises. He seated himself on a cannon; and so
rides, and arrives; right welcome the sight of him, doubt not!
And the fight rages still for an hour or more.
To an observant Mollendorf, watching about all day, the importance
and all-importance of Siptitz Summit, if it can be got, is probably
known; to Daun it is alarmingly well known, when he hears of it.
Daun is zealously urgent on Lacy, on O'Donnell; who do try what
they can; send reinforcements, and the like; but nothing that
proves useful. O'Donnell is not the man for such a crisis:
Lacy, too, it is remarked, has always been more expert in ducking
out of Friedrich's way than in fighting anybody. [Archenholtz's
sour remark.] In fine, such is the total darkness, the difficulty,
the uncertainty, most or all of the reinforcements sent halted
short, in the belly of the Night, uncertain where; and their poor
friends got altogether beaten and driven away.
MAP FACING PAGE 527, BOOK XX--------
About 9 at night, all the Austrians are rolling off, eastward,
eastward. Prussians goading them forward what they could (firing
not quite done till 10); and that all-important pommel of the
saddle is indisputably won. The Austrians settled themselves, in a
kind of half-moon shape, close on the suburbs of Torgau;
the Prussians in a parallel half-moon posture, some furlongs behind
them. The Austrians sat but a short time; not a moment longer than
was indispensable. Daun perceives that the key of his ground is
gone from him; that he will have to send a second Courier to
Vienna. And, above all things, that he must forthwith get across
the Elbe and away. Lucky for him that he has Three Bridges (or
Four, including the Town Bridge), and that his Baggage is already
all across and standing on wheels. With excellent despatch and
order Daun winds himself across,--all of him that is still
coherent; and indeed, in the distant parts of the Battle-field,
wandering Austrian parties were admonished hitherward by the
River's voice in the great darkness,--and Daun's loss in prisoners,
though great, was less than could have been expected: 8,000 in all.
Till towards one in the morning, the Prussians, in their half-moon,
had not learned what he was doing. About one they pushed into
Torgau, and across the Town Bridge; found 26 pontoons,--all the
rest packed off except these 26;--and did not follow farther.
Lacy retreated by the other or left bank of the River, to guard
against attempts from that side. Next day there was pursuit of
Lacy; some prisoners and furnitures got from him, but nothing of
moment: Daun and Lacy joined at Dresden; took post, as usual,
behind their inaccessible Plauen Chasms. Sat there, in view of the
chasing Prussians, without farther loss than this of Torgau, and of
a Campaign gone to water again. What an issue, for the third time!
[Tempelhof, iv. 291-318,; Archenholtz, ii. 159-174; Retzow, ii. 299
et seq.; UMSTANDLICHE BESCHREIBUNG DES &C, (in Seyfarth,
Beylagen, ii. 823-848): in Helden-Geschichte,
or in Anonymous of Hamburg (iv.
245-300), the Daun DESPATCHES, the Lists, &c.]--
On Torgau-field, behind that final Prussian half-moon, there
reigned, all night, a confusion which no tongue can express.
Poor wounded men by the hundred and the thousand, weltering in
their blood, on the cold wet ground; not surgeons or nurses, but
merciless predatory sutlers, equal to murder if necessary, waiting
on them and on the happier that were dead. "Unutterable!" says
Archenholtz; who, though wounded, had crawled or got carried to
some village near. The living wandered about in gloom and
uncertainty; lucky he whose haversack was still his, and a crust of
bread in it: water was a priceless luxury, almost nowhere
discoverable. Prussian Generals roved about with their Staff-
Officers, seeking to re-form their Battalions; to little purpose.
They had grown indignant, in some instances, and were vociferously
imperative and minatory; but in tbe dark who needed mind them?--
they went raving elsewhere, and, for the first time, Prussian word-
of-command saw itself futile. Pitch darkness, bitter cold, ground
trampled into mire. On Siptitz Hill there is nothing that will
burn: farther back, in the Domitsch Woods, are numerous fine fires,
to which Austrians and Prussians alike gather: "Peace and truce
between us; to-morrow morning we will see which are prisoners,
which are captors." So pass the wild hours, all hearts longing for
the dawn, and what decision it will bring.
Friedrich, at Elsnig, found every hut full of wounded, and their
surgeries, and miseries silent or loud. He himself took shelter in
the little Church; passed the night there. Busy about many things;
--"using the altar," it seems, "by way of writing-table [self or
secretaries kneeling, shall we fancy, on those new terms?], and the
stairs of it as seat." Of the final Ziethen-Lestwitz effort he
would scarcely hear the musketry or cannonade, being so far away
from it. At what hour, or from whom first, he learned that the
Battle of Torgau had become Victory in the night-time, I know not:
the Anecdote-Books send him out in his cloak, wandering up and down
before daybreak; standing by the soldiers' fires; and at length,
among the Woods, in the faint incipiency of dawn, meeting a Shadow
which proves to be Ziethen himself in the body, with embraces and
congratulations:--evidently mythical, though dramatic. Reach him
the news soon did; and surely none could be welcomer.
Head-quarters change from the altar-steps in Elsnig Church to
secular rooms in Torgau. Ziethen has already sped forth on the
skirts of Lacy; whole Army follows next day; and, on the War-
theatre it is, on the sudden, a total change of scene.
Conceivable to readers without the details.
Hopes there were of getting back Dresden itself; but that, on
closer view, proved unattemptable. Daun kept his Plauen Chasm, his
few square miles of ground beyond; the rest of Saxony was
Friedrich's, as heretofore. Loudon had tried hard on Kosel for a
week; storming once, and a second time, very fiercely, Goltz being
now near; but could make nothing of it; and, on wind of Goltz, went
his way. [HOFBERICHT VON DER BELAGERUNG VON KOSEL, IM OCTOBER 1760
(Seyfarth, Beylagen, ii. 798-804): began
"October 21st;" ended "at daybreak, October 27th."] The Russians,
on sound of Torgau, shouldered arms, and made for Poland. Daun, for
his own share, went to Vienna this Winter; in need of surgery, and
other things. The population there is rather disposed to be grumbly
on its once heroic Fabius; wishes the Fabius were a little less
cunctatory. But Imperial Majesty herself, one is proud to relate,
drove out, in Old Roman spirit, some miles, to meet him, her
defeated ever-honored Daun, and to inquire graciously about his
health, which is so important to the State. [Archenholtz, ii. 179.]
Torgau was Daun's last Battle: Daun's last battle; and, what is
more to the joy of readers and their Editor here, was Friedrich's
last,--so that the remaining Two Campaigns may fairly be condensed
to an extreme degree; and a few Chapters more will deliver us
altogether from this painful element!--
Daun lost at Torgau, by his own account, "about 11,000 men,"--
should have said, according to Tempelhof, and even to neutral
persons, "above 12,000 killed and wounded, PLUS 8,000 prisoners,
45 cannon, 29 flags, 1 standard (or horse-flag)," [Tempelhof, iv.
213; Kausler, p. 726.] which brings him to at least 20,000 minus;--
the Prussian loss, heavy enough too, being, by Tempelhof's
admission, "between 13 and 14,000, of whom 4,000 prisoners."
The sore loss, not so computable in arithmetic,--but less sore to
Daun, perhaps, than to most people,--is that of being beaten, and
having one's Campaign reduced to water again. No Conquest of
Saxony, any more than of Silesia, possible to Daun, this Year.
In Silesia, thanks to Loudon, small thanks to Loudon's Chief, they
have got Glatz: Kosel they could not get; fiery Loudon himself
stormed and blazed to no purpose there, and had to hurry home on
sight of Goltz and relief. Glatz is the net sum-total. Daun knows
all this; but in a stoical arithmetical manner, and refuses to be
flurried by it.
Friedrich, as we said, had hoped something might be done in Saxony
on the defeated Daun;--perhaps Dresden itself be got back from him,
and his Army altogether sent to winter in Bohemia again? But it
proved otherwise. Daun showed not the least disposition to quit his
Plauen Chasm, or fall into discouragement: and after some weeks of
diligent trial, on Friedrich's part, and much running about in
those central and Hill-ward parts, Friedrich found he would have to
be content with his former allotment of Saxon territory, and to
leave the Austrians quiet in theirs. Took winter-quarters
accordingly, and let the Enemy take. Cantoned himself, in that
Meissen-Freyberg Country, in front of the Austrians and their
impassable Plauens and Chasms:--pretty much as in the past Year,
only that the Two Armies lay at a greater distance, and were more
peaceable, as if by mutual consent.
Head-quarter of the King is Leipzig; where the King did not arrive
till December 8th,--such adjusting and arranging has he had, and
incessant running to and fro. He lived in the "Apel House, NEW
Neumarkt, No. 16;" [Rodenbeck, ii. 65.] the same he had occupied in
1757, in the Rossbach time. "ACH! how lean your Majesty has grown!"
said the Mistress of it, at sight of him again (mythically, I
should fancy, though it is in the Anecdote-Books). "Lean, JA WOHL,"
answered he: "and what wonder, with Three Women [Theresa, Czarina,
Pompadour] hanging on the throat of me all this while!" But we
propose to look in upon him ourselves, in this Apel House, on more
authentic terms, by and by. Read, meanwhile, these Two bits of
Autograph, thrown off incidentally, at different places, in the
previous busy journeyings over Meissen-Freyberg country:--
1. FRIEDRICH TO MARQUIS D'ARGENS (at Berlin).
"MEISSEN, 10th November, 1760.
... "I drove the enemy to the Gates of Dresden; they occupy their
Camp of last Year; all my skill is not enough to dislodge them,"--
[Chasm of Plauen, "a place impregnable, were it garrisoned by
chimney-sweeps," says the King once]. "We have saved our reputation
by the Day of Torgau: but don't imagine our enemies are so
disheartened as to desire Peace. Duke Ferdinand's affairs are not
in a good way [missed Wesel, of which presently;--and, alas also,
George II. died, this day gone a fortnight, which is far worse for
us, if we knew it!]--I fear the French will preserve through Winter
the advantages they gained during the Campaign.
"In a word, I see all black, as if I were at the bottom of a tomb.
Have some compassion on the situation I am in; conceive that I
disguise nothing from you, and yet that I do not detail to you all
my embarrassments, my apprehensions and troubles. Adieu, dear
Marquis; write to me sometimes,--don't forget a poor devil, who
curses ten times a day his fatal existence, and could wish he
already were in those Silent Countries from which nobody returns
with news." [ OEuvres de Frederic, xix.
204, 205.]
2. The Second, of different complexion, is a still more interesting
little Autograph, date elsewhere, farther on, in those wanderings.
Madam Camas, Widow of the Colonel Camas whom we knew twenty years
ago, is "Queen's OBER-HOFMEISTERINN (Lady in Chief),"--to whom the
King's Letters are always pretty:--
FREIDRICH TO MADAM CAMAS (at Magdeburg, with the Queen's Majesty.
"NEUSTADT, 18th November, 1760.
"I am exact in answering, and eager to satisfy you [in that matter
of the porcelain: you shall have a breakfast-set, my good Mamma;
six coffee-cups, very pretty, well diapered, and tricked out with
all the little embellishments which increase their value.
On account of some pieces which they are adding to the set, you
will have to wait a few days; but I flatter myself this delay will
contribute to your satisfaction, and produce for you a toy that
will give you pleasure, and make you remember your old Adorer.
It is curious how old people's habits agree. For four years past I
have given up suppers, as incompatible with the Trade I am obliged
to follow; and in marching days, my dinner consists of a cup
of chocolate.
"We hurried off, like fools, quite inflated with our Victory, to
try if we could not chase the Austrians out of Dresden: they made a
mockery of us from the tops of their mountains. So I have
withdrawn, like a bad little boy, to conceal myself, out of spite,
in one of the wretchedest villages in Saxony. And here the first
thing will be to drive the Circle gentlemen, [Reichs Army] out of
Freyberg into Chemnitz, and get ourselves room to quarter and
something to live upon. It is, I swear to you, a dog of a life [or
even a she-dog, CHIENNE DE VIE], the like of which nobody but Don
Quixote ever led before me. All this tumbling and toiling, and
bother and confusion that never ceases, has made me so old, that
you would scarcely know me again. On the right side of my head the
hair is all gray; my teeth break and fall out; I have got my face
wrinkled like the falbalas of a petticoat; my back bent like a
fiddle-bow; and spirit sad and downcast like a monk of La Trappe.
I forewarn you of all this, lest, in case we should meet again in
flesh and bone, you might feel yourself too violently shocked by my
appearance. There remains to me nothing but the heart,--which has
undergone no change, and which will preserve, so long as I breathe,
its feelings of esteem and of tender friendship for my good Mamma.
Adieu." [ OEuvres de Frederic, XVIII. 144.]--
To which add only this on Duke Ferdinand, "whose affairs," we just
heard, "are not in a good way:"--
FIGHT OF KLOSTER KAMPEN (Night of October 15th-16th);
WESEL NOT TO BE HAD BY DUKE FERDINAND.
After WARBURG (July 31st, while Friedrich was on the eve of
crossing Elbe on new adventures, Dresden Siege having failed him),
Duke Ferdinand made no figure to the Gazetteers; fought no Battle
farther; and has had a Campaign, which is honorable only to judges
of a higher than the Gazetteer sort.
By Warburg Ferdinand had got the Diemel; on the north bank of which
he spread himself out, impassable to Broglio, who lay trying on the
opposite bank:--"No Hanover by this road." Broglio thereupon drew
back a little; pushed out circuitously from his right wing, which
reaches far eastward of Ferdinand, a considerable Brigade,--
circuitously, round by the Weser-Fulda Country, and beyond the
embouchure of Diemel,--to try it by that method. Got actually a few
miles into Hanoverian territory, by that method; laid hold of
Gottingen, also of Munden, which secures a road thither: and at
Gottingen there, "ever since August 4th," Broglio has been throwing
up works, and shooting out hussar-parties to a good distance;
intending, it would seem, to maintain himself, and to be
mischievous, in that post. Would, in fact, fain entice Ferdinand
across the Weser, to help Gottingen. "Across Weser, yes;--and so
leave Broglio free to take Lippstadt from me, as he might after a
short siege," thinks Ferdinand always; "which would beautifully
shorten Broglio's communication [quite direct then, and without
interruption, all the way to Wesel], and make Hanover itself,
Hanover and Brunswick, the central Seat of War!" Which Ferdinand,
grieved as he is for Gottingen, will by no means consent to.
Ferdinand, strong only as one to two, cannot hinder Broglio, though
he tries variously; and is much at a loss, seeing Broglio
irrepressibly busy this way, all through August and on into
September;--has heard, however, from Wesel, through secret
partisans there, that Wesel, considered altogether out of risk, is
left in a very weak condition; weak in garrison, weak even in
gunners. Reflecting upon which, in his difficulties, Ferdinand asks
himself, "A sudden stroke at Wesel, 200 miles away, might it not
astonish Broglio, who is so busy on us just here?"--and, September
22d, despatches the Hereditary Prince on that errand. A man likely
for it, if there be one in the world:--unable to do it, however, as
the issue told. Here is what I find noted.
"SEPTEMBER 22d, the Erbprinz, with a chosen Corps of 15,000, mostly
English, left these Diemel regions towards Wesel, at his speediest.
September 29th, Erbprinz and vanguard, Corps rapidly following, are
got to Dorsten, within 20 miles of Wesel. A most swift Erbprinz;
likely for such work. And it is thought by judges, Had he had
either siege-artillery or scaling apparatus, he might really have
attacked Wesel with good chance upon it. But he has not even a
ladder ready, much less a siege-gun. Siege-guns are at Bielefeld
[come from Bremen, I suppose, by English boating, up the Weser so
far]; but that is six score miles of wheel-carriage; roads bad, and
threatening to be worse, as it is equinoctial weather. There is
nothing for it but to wait for those guns.
"The Erbprinz, hopefully waiting, does his endeavor in the interim;
throws a bridge over the Rhine, pounces upon Cleve garrison
(prisoners, with their furnitures), pounces upon this and that;
'spreads terror' on the French thereabouts 'up to Dusseldorf and
Koln,--and on Broglio himself, so far off, the due astonishment.
'Wesel to be snatched,--ye Heavens! Our Netherlands road cut off:
Dusseldorf, Koln, our Rhine Magazines, all and sundry, fallen to
the hawks,--who, the lighter-winged of them, might pay visits in
France itself!' Broglio has to suspend his Gottingen operations,
and detach Marquis de Castries with (say ultimately, for Castries
is to grow and gather by the road) 35,000, to relieve Wesel.
Castries marches double-quick; weather very rainy;--arrives in
those parts OCTOBER 13th;--hardly a gun from Bielefeld come to hand
yet, Erbprinz merely filling men with terror. And so,
"OCTOBER 14th, after two weeks and a day, the Hereditary Prince
sees, not guns from Bielefeld, but Castries pushing into Wesel a
7,000 of additional garrison,--and the Enterprise on Wesel grown
impossible. Impossible, and probably far more; Castries in a
condition to devour us, if he prove sharp. It behooves the
Hereditary Prince to be himself sharp;--which he undoubtedly was,
in this sharp crisis. Next day, our Erbprinz, taking survey of
Castries in his strong ground of Kloster Kampen, decides, like a
gallant fellow, to attack HIM;--and straightway does it.
Breaks, that same night (October 15th-16th, 1760), stealthily,
through woods and with precautions, into Castries's Post;--
intending surprisal, and mere ruin to Castries. And there ensued,
not the SURPRISAL as it turned out, but the BATTLE OF KLOSTER
KAMPEN; which again proved unsuccessful, or only half-successful,
to the Hereditary Prince. A many-winged, intricate Night-Battle;
to be read of in Books. This is where the Chevalier d'Assas, he or
Somebody, gave the alarm to the Castries people at the expense of
his life. 'A MOI, AUVERGNE, Ho, Auvergne!' shouted D'Assas (if it
was D'Assas at all), when the stealthy English came upon him;
who was at once cut down. [Preuss (ii. 270 n.) asserts it to be
proved, in "Miscellen aus den neuesten auslandischen
Litteratur (1824, No. 3, p. 409)," a Book which none
of us ever saw, "That the real hero [equal to a Roman Decius or
more] was not Captain d'Assas, of the Regiment Auvergne, but a poor
Private Soldier of it, called Dubois"!--Is not this a strange turn,
after such be-PENSIONING, be-painting, singing and celebrating, as
rose upon poor D'Assas, or the Family of D'Assas, twenty years
afterwards (1777-1790)!--Both Dubois and D'Assas, I conclude, lay
among the slain at Kloster Kampen, silent they forever:--and a
painful doubt does rise, As to the miraculous operation of
Posthumous Rumor and Wonder; and Whether there was any "miracle of
heroism," or other miracle at all, and not rather a poor nocturnal
accident,--poor sentry in the edge of the wood, shrieking out, on
apparition of the stealthy English, "Ho, Auvergne, help!" probably
firing withal; and getting killed in consequence? NON NOSTRUM EST.]
It is certain, Auvergne gave fire; awoke Castries bodily; and saved
him from what was otherwise inevitable. Surprise now there was none
farther; but a complex Fight, managed in the darkness with uncommon
obstinacy; ending in withdrawal of the Erbprinz, as from a thing
that could not be done. His loss in killed, wounded and prisoners,
was 1,638; that of Castries, by his own counting, 2,036:
but Kloster Kampen, in the wide-awake state, could not be won.
"During the Fight, the Erbprinz's Rhine-Bridge had burst in two:
his ammunition was running short;--and, it would seem, there is no
retreat, either! The Erbprinz put a bold face on the matter, stood
to Castries in a threatening attitude; mamoeuvred skilfully for two
days longer, face still to Castries, till the Bridge was got
mended; then, night of October 18th-19th, crossed to his own side;
gathered up his goods; and at a deliberate pace marched home, on
those terms;--doing some useful fighting by the road."
[Mauvillon, ii. 120-129: Tempelhof, ii. 325-332.]
Had lost nothing, say his admirers, "but one cannon, which burst."
One burst cannon left on the field of Kloster Kampen;--but also, as
we see, his errand along with it; and 1,600 good fighters lost aud
burst: which was more important! Criticisms there were on it in
England, perhaps of the unwise sort generally; sorrow in the
highest quarter. "An unaccountable expedition," Walpole calls it,
"on which Prince Ferdinand suddenly despatched his Nephew, at the
head of a considerable force, towards the frontiers of Holland,"--
merely to see the country there?--"which occasioned much solicitude
in England, as the Main Army, already unequal to that of France,
was thus rendered much weaker. King George felt it with much
anxiety." [Walpole's George Second, iii.
299.] An unaccountable Enterprise, my poor Gazetteer friends,--
very evidently an unsuccessful one, so far as Wesel went.
Many English fallen in it, too: "the English showed here again a
GANZ AUSNEHMENDE TAPFERKEIT," says Mauvillon; and probably their
share of the loss was proportionate.
Clearly enough there is no Wesel to be had. Neither could Broglio,
though disturbed in his Gottingen fortifyings and operations, be
ejected out of Gottingen. Ferdinand, on failure of Wesel, himself
marched to Gottingen, and tried for some days; but found he could
not, in such weather, tear out that firmly rooted French Post, but
must be content to "mask it," for the present; and, this done,
withdrew (December 13th) to his winter-quarters near by, as did
Broglio to his,--about the time Friedrich and Daun had finally
settled in theirs.
Ferdinand's Campaigns henceforth, which turn all on the defence of
Hanover, are highly recommended to professional readers; but to the
laic sort do not prove interesting in proportion to the trouble.
In fact, the huge War henceforth begins everywhere, or everywhere
except in Pitt's department of it, to burn lower, like a lamp with
the oil getting done; and has less of brilliancy than formerly.
"Let us try for Hanover," the Belleisles, Choiseuls and wise French
heads had said to themselves: "Canada, India, everything is lost;
but were dear Hanover well in our clutch, Hanover would be a remedy
for many things!" Through the remaining Campaigns, as in this now
done, that is their fixed plan. Ferdinand, by unwearied effort,
succeeded in defending Hanover,--nothing of it but that
inconsiderable slice or skirt round Gottingen, which they kept
long, could ever be got by the French. Ferdinand defended Hanover;
and wore out annually the big French Armies which were missioned
thither, as in the spasm of an expiring last effort by this poor
hag-ridden France,--at an expense to her, say, of 50,000 men per
year. Which was good service on Ferdinand's part; but done less and
less in the shining or universally notable way.
So that with him too we are henceforth, thank Heaven, permitted and
even bound to be brief. Hardly above two Battles more from him, if
even two:--and mostly the wearied Reader's imagination left to
conceive for itself those intricate strategies, and endless
manoeuvrings on the Diemel and the Dill, on the Ohm River and the
Schwalm and the Lippe, or wherever they may be, with small help
from a wearied Editor!--
