From the end of July to September 11.
The corps of Tekeli had meanwhile prosecuted its operations in Upper
Hungary. As he was approaching Tyrnau, the Duke of Lorraine reinforced
the citadel of Presburg with some regiments of cavalry, and put the
remainder of his army in motion across the March field. Learning
that the town of Presburg was already occupied, and the citadel
threatened by the adherents of Tekeli, and also that 20,000 Turks and
20,000 Hungarians were encamped in the neighbourhood, he pushed on
towards the city. He succeeded in flinging an additional force into
the fortress, and, after some resistance, drove the enemy out of the
suburbs and town. The citizens, excusing their defection on the ground
of compulsion, renewed their fealty to the Emperor. The advanced guard
of the Polish army, under Prince Lubomirski, had meanwhile arrived, and
with their assistance the Duke on the following day gained a victory
which cleared the left bank of the Danube, and re-established the
communication with Komorn and Raab. The hostile camp fell entirely into
the victors’ hands. The Turks and Tekeli threw mutual blame upon each
other. To whichever it was due, their united forces, after ravaging the
March field, were overtaken by Lorraine near Stammersdorf, and again
completely defeated. The Pacha of Erlau with 1200 men were left dead
on the field, many more perished in attempting to swim the Danube, 22
standards were taken, and a body of 600 Hungarians deserted to the
enemy. Meanwhile the troops of the Empire were flocking in from all
quarters. The Bavarians have been already mentioned. The Elector of
Saxony, John George III., marched out of Dresden on the 22nd July with
12,000 men and 18 guns, and reached Crems on the 28th August. Sobieski
writes to his wife in great admiration of the Saxon troops, as well
dressed, complete in numbers, and well disciplined. “We may say of the
Germans what has been said of the horse, they do not know their own
strength.” The King of Poland left Cracow early in August. The Emperor
had undergone the humiliation of imploring the personal presence of
a sovereign whose policy and interests he had always thwarted, even
should he arrive without his army. This homage to his military talents
was doubtless grateful, but John Sobieski needed no stimulus when the
Turk was in the field. While the French ambassador was exerting all
his influence to detain him, and writing to Louis XIV. that he was
too corpulent for active service, he took leave of his wife, and,
after making his will, set out, accompanied by his son, a boy sixteen
years of age, in advance of his army. His march lay through a country
exposed to the incursions of Tartars and Hungarians, but he performed
it on horseback with an escort of some 2000 cavalry, and reached the
head-quarters of Lorraine in safety. He found them at Tuln, on the
right bank of the river, the force weak in numbers, and still employed
in the construction of the bridge which the Emperor in his letters
had announced as finished. Many of the German troops had not yet
arrived. Lorraine spake with anxiety of the condition of affairs. “Be
of good cheer,” replied Sobieski; “which of us at the head of 200,000
men would have allowed this bridge to be constructed within five
leagues of his camp? The Vizier is a man of no capacity.” The Polish
army, under Field Marshal Jablonowski, reached the bank of the Danube
opposite Tuln early in September. It amounted to about 26,000 men of
all arms, but with a very small proportion of infantry. After passing
them in review, the leaders held a council of war, in which Lorraine
suggested that the march for the relief of the city should be directed
over the Kahlenberg. The King gave an immediate assent, observing,
that he had left his royal dignity at Warsaw, and was prepared to act
with the Duke as with a friend and brother. On the other hand, no
jealousies would seem to have interfered to prevent an immediate and
frank acknowledgment of the authority of Sobieski as Commander-in-chief
of the assembled forces. It is not to be forgotten that the Duke of
Lorraine had been competitor with Sobieski for the crown of Poland.
Sobieski’s letters contain some graphic details of their first meeting,
which seems to have passed off at table with more joviality than was
consistent with the ordinary habits of Lorraine, who was free from
the German vice of drinking, but who on this occasion, beginning with
the lighter vintage of Moselle, passed on to the stronger wines of
Hungary. Sobieski describes him as modest and taciturn, strongly marked
with the small-pox, _le nez trez aquilin, et presque en peroquet_;
stooping, plain, and negligent in his attire. _Avec tout ça, il n’a
pas la mine d’un marchand mais d’un homme comme il faut, et même
d’un homme de distinction. C’est un homme avec qui je m’accorderais
facilement._ It was further decided that the Poles should cross the
river at Tuln and the Germans at Crems, so as to effect their junction
at the former place on the 5th September. The junction did not however
take place till the 7th. Three thousand Poles were detached towards the
March field to keep the Hungarians in check. The Christian army now
consisted of 85,000 men, Austrians, Poles, Bavarians, Saxons, Swabians,
and Franconians, with 186 pieces of artillery. Of this number, some
7000 were detached for the occupation of various posts, leaving about
77,000 effectives for field operations against the Turks. This force,
small in numbers if we consider the greatness of the stake at issue,
counted among its leaders four sovereigns and twenty-two other princes
of sovereign houses. The electoral houses of Germany were worthily
represented by Saxony and Bavaria. John George III., Elector of Saxony,
had seen much service in the cause of Austria, and had been the first
of the German princes to give a frank adhesion to her cause. Sobieski
describes him as speaking neither Latin nor French, and little German;
not addicted to harangues or compliments, _étourdi_, drunken, simple,
and good-natured. The man thus satirically painted was however a
sturdy specimen of the German race, and could deal hard blows in the
field. Maximilian Emanuel, of Bavaria, conspicuous in after years for
the misfortunes entailed upon him by his alliance with France against
Austria, and the principal victim of Marlborough’s success at Blenheim,
came forward now at the age of twenty-one, to save from destruction the
sovereign who, after rewarding him with the hand of a daughter, lived
to expel him for awhile from his dominions. He had the good sense now
to consign the conduct of his troops to experienced hands, and served
himself as a volunteer. Among the others were the Dukes of Sachsen
Lauenburg, Eisenach, and Weissenfels, of Brunswick-Lüneburg, Wirtemberg
and Holstein, Pfalzneuburg and Croy, the Margrave of Baireuth and Louis
of Baden afterwards so famous; the Landgrave of Hesse, the Princes of
Waldeck, Hohenzollern, Anhalt, and Salm; last and youngest, Eugene of
Savoy. The Prince of Waldeck commanded the troops of the Circles.
The literature of modern Europe, rich as it is in the correspondence
of eminent persons of both sexes, perhaps contains no collection
of letters of such engrossing interest as those written at this
period by John Sobieski to his wife, which have lately found an
eminent translator and commentator in the Count Plater. The familiar
correspondence of such a man as Sobieski, even if devoted to ordinary
occurrences and insignificant events, would derive an interest from
the character and fame of the writer which few such collections could
claim. In the case of these, however, the circumstances of the time
combine with the character of the man to enhance that interest to the
highest degree. They are the letters of an absent lover, pledged to
punctual and familiar correspondence, and consequently rich in minute
details. They are the military dispatches of one of the greatest
soldiers who ever lived, penned in moments snatched from hard-earned
repose, often when the night-lamp of his tent was growing pale before
the twilight of morning, and dealing with the hourly progress of one of
the greatest military transactions in history. Some passages of these
documents escaped at the time, and have been quoted by all writers on
the subjects concerned, from Voltaire and Madame de Sévigné to the
gazette writers of the day; but these passages, principally relating
to the great and notorious result, are not of greater interest, and
are of less historical value, than the remainder more lately rescued
from the obscurity of the Polish language which was the medium of his
most familiar intercourse with his absent wife. It is a singular trait
of ability in this mischievous woman, especially when we consider
the habitual distaste of her countrymen and countrywomen for the
acquisition of foreign languages, that she should have so completely
mastered the difficulties of a Sclavonic dialect as to speak and write
it with fluency and correctness. It is embarrassing to quote from these
letters, because there is scarcely a passage in them which does not
present the temptation. The series commences from the 29th August, the
first evening after taking leave of his wife at Cracow. This and the
five following letters carry him through the fatigues of the march, the
tedious ceremonies of his reception at Olmutz and other halting-places;
and the seventh, of the 9th September, is written from Tuln, the great
rendezvous, and one of the points of passage for the collected forces
of Poland and Germany. At every step the interest thickens; fresh
intelligence is announced of the desperate condition of the city; the
figures of men then, or afterwards, famous in history, are briefly
and graphically introduced to our notice; observations on the busy
present, and speculations on the doubtful future, are interwoven with
lively sketches of character and costume. At Tuln commenced the main
difficulties of the great operation on which the eyes of Europe were
concentered, difficulties which nothing but the gross negligence of the
Turks could have enabled the allies to surmount. The Tartar cavalry,
properly directed, might alone have rendered impossible the three days’
march, by forest paths, through a country destitute of provisions,
and scarcely practicable for artillery or carriages, which intervened
between the banks of the river and the heights of the Kahlenberg.
Baggage and commissariat were of necessity left behind, in the
neighbourhood of Tuln. It was necessary to weaken the fighting strength
of the army by a strong guard to protect these depôts from the Tartars,
and by heavy escorts for the transport of provisions from this base of
operation.
It was hardly to be expected that the heights of the Kahlenberg
themselves would be found unguarded; and to explore the condition of
this crowning post, the key to the main operation, was in itself a
task of the utmost hazard and delicacy. It was performed on the night
of the 10th by the king and the other principal commanders in person,
and this service separated him so far and so long from his army then
struggling up the precipices and through the forests behind, that the
greatest alarm was excited for his safety. The crest of the Kahlenberg,
with its castle and chapel, were found unoccupied; but the Turks, too
late aware of its importance, were moving towards it in the course
of the 11th, when, by great exertion, the first troops which came to
hand, five Saxon battalions of the left wing, with three guns, were
brought up to the summit. The Turks, finding themselves anticipated,
retired without a serious struggle, and the Saxon guns opening upon
their rear, gave signal to the city of its approaching salvation. The
king and the other commanders rejoined their several corps about midday
of the 11th, and the principal difficulties of the march having been
now overcome, the army was enabled to arrange itself in nearly the
order which was preserved through the following day of battle.[14] This
operation was conducted without disturbance from the enemy, except on
the extreme left, where General Leslie experienced some opposition
in the establishment of a battery. The report of this skirmish
roused Sobieski, not from slumber, which, as he states, was rendered
unattainable by the thunder of the Turkish batteries against the city,
but from the occupation of writing a long and detailed letter to his
wife. Disturbed in this enjoyment, the indefatigable man, described by
the French ambassador as too corpulent to ride, was again in the saddle
at three A. M. He appears to have ridden along the whole position, from
his tent on the extreme right to the Leopoldsberg on the left. This
exertion had the advantage of bringing him once more into personal
communication with Lorraine before that final issue which took place
on the following day, contrary indeed to the expectation or intention
of either, for neither contemplated at this moment the possibility of
bringing so vast an operation as the relief of the city within the
compass of a single day.
Nothing seems to have given Sobieski so much annoyance at this period
as the non-appearance of some Cossack levies, which his agents had
been despatched to raise. He writes of them in their absence in a
strain which might have been used by a Russian commander of our own
day, and which shows that the admirable qualities of the real Cossack
for the duty of light troops, especially against the Turk, had fully
displayed themselves in the seventeenth century. It is certain that
down to the latest period, the Vizier had no belief, or even suspicion,
that Sobieski had taken the field in person, or that any strong Polish
force had joined the army. The reported appearance of Polish troops was
accounted for by the known arrival of Lubomirski’s partisan corps.
The muster-roll of the Turkish army found in the tent of the Vizier
gives in round numbers a total of 160,000 men, and historians have
been ready enough to adopt a cypher, which would give a difference of
80,000 men as against the victorious party. As this document, however,
includes all detachments and garrisons, and also many commanders and
men who were certainly no longer in existence, the Pacha of Erlau,
for instance, who, with most of his troops, had perished, as has been
related, in the affair of Stammersdorf, it is as needless to dwell upon
the fallacy of such an assumption of numbers, as it would be difficult
to arrive at anything like accuracy with any other. If we accept the
statement of Kantemir, that, on the night before the battle, nearly a
fourth of the Turkish army disbanded itself, we can hardly calculate
the force remaining in the camp at more than 100,000, for whom,
exhausted and dispirited as they were, 80,000 untouched regular troops
were more than an equal match.
When the advance of the Christian army became no longer doubtful, the
Vizier called his Pachas about him to deliberate upon the mode in
which to meet the impending attack. The aged Pacha of Pesth, who has
been mentioned as adverse from the first to the march upon Vienna,
advised the Vizier to raise the siege without delay, to collect the
whole army, and, cutting down the neighbouring forests, to palisade
and entrench themselves and abide the attack. On the repulse of the
first onset, to launch the cavalry on both flanks of the enemy, and
thus decide his defeat. The majority of the council was in favour of
this proposal. The Vizier was obstinate in rejecting it, alleging, not
unjustly, that if the siege were once raised, the city would instantly
avail itself of the opportunity to repair its defences, and put itself
into condition to defy a renewed attempt. It would be difficult, if
the Janissaries were once withdrawn from the trenches, to persuade
them to return to their toil, even after the achievement of a victory
in the field. His opinion then was that a sufficient force should
be left in the approaches to carry on the siege operations without
interruption, and that the remainder should advance against the enemy,
whose inferior numbers would be easily crushed. The Pachas made some
further remonstrances, but were forced to give way to the unlimited
authority of their chief. On the 11th September all the Turkish troops
in the Leopoldstadt were withdrawn, and the greater part of the cavalry
were moved forward towards the Kahlenberg, near the base of which,
and on the Wienerberg, they threw up entrenchments; and, disposing
themselves in the shape of a crescent, they awaited the appearance
of the Imperialists. Between Weinhaus and Gerstorf are still to be
seen the traces of a considerable work, which bears the name of the
Turkenschanz, the site of one of their principal batteries. So long
previous as the 9th September, the Vizier, in his first alarm at
the approach of the enemy, had determined to collect his force on
the Wienerberg, and a field-tent had been pitched for him near the
so-called Spinnerkreuz. On the following day, however, he changed his
intention and plan, and moving the main portion of his force towards
the Kahlenberg, drew it up upon the heights between Grinzing and
Heiligenstadt. On the evening of the same day, the 10th, the advanced
guard of the Christian army arrived on the Kahlenberg, and the first
sound of its guns, as above described, was heard in Vienna, as they
opened from the heights on the columns of the Turks. The effect was one
of mingled joy and anxiety. The issue of the struggle was evidently
at hand, but that issue was still uncertain, and the night was one of
agonising suspense. The population not immediately employed in military
duty, was divided through the day between the churches and the roofs of
towers and houses; the first engaged in earnest supplication to Heaven,
the latter in surveying the movements of the Turkish camp, and watching
for the first gleam of the Christian weapons as they issued from the
wooded heights. The commandant, as evening closed in, despatched a
messenger, who swam the Danube with a letter for the Duke of Lorraine.
Its words were few. “No time to be lost!—no time indeed to be lost!”
This message was acknowledged by a cluster of rockets from Hermansdorf.
Orders were now issued by Count Stahremberg to all the troops, regular
and irregular, to hold themselves in readiness for a sally during the
expected battle of the morrow, or for joining the Christian army, and
driving the Turks out of the approaches. The night of the 11th of
September closed in upon this troubled scene. The man whose doom is
sealed will often sleep till morning calls him to the scaffold. Such
heavy sleep as his, the offspring of nervous excitement and exhaustion,
perhaps, was granted to the citizen of Vienna; but even this may be
doubted, for the criminal is assured of his fate. The doom of Vienna
was yet uncertain.
FOOTNOTES:
[14] See Appendix.