COMMENCEMENT OF THE SEVEN YEARS’ WAR.
Secret Preparations for a Coalition.--Frederick’s Embarrassments.--
The uncertain Support of England.--Causes of the War.--Commencement
of Hostilities.--Letter from Frederick to his Sister Amelia.--
Letter to his Brother.--The Invasion of Saxony.--Misfortunes of the
Royal Family of Poland.--Battle of Lobositz.--Energetic Military
Movements.--Prisoners of War compelled to enlist in the Prussian
Service.--Dispatches from Frederick.--Battle of Prague.--Battle of
Kolin.--Retreat of Frederick.--Death of Sophia Dorothea.
We now enter upon the third Silesian war, usually termed in history
The Seven Years’ War. For four years Frederick had been aware that
a coalition was secretly forming against him. Maria Theresa wished,
with ardor which had never for one moment abated, to regain Silesia.
All the other European powers, without exception, desired to curb
Frederick, whose ambition they feared. They were well aware that he was
taking advantage of a few years of peace to replenish his treasury,
and to enlarge his army for new conquests. As we have before stated,
Frederick, by bribery, had fully informed himself of the secret
arrangements into which Austria, Russia, Poland, and other powers were
entering for the dismemberment of his realms. It is in vain to attempt
to unravel the intricacies of the diplomacy which ensued.
England, while endeavoring to subsidize Russia against Frederick,
entered secretly into a sort of alliance with Frederick, hoping thus to
save Hanover. The Empress Elizabeth, of Russia, heartily united with
Maria Theresa against Frederick, whom she personally disliked, and
whose encroachments she dreaded. His Prussian majesty, proud of his
powers of sarcasm, in his poems spared neither friend nor foe. He had
written some very severe things against the Russian empress, which had
reached her ears.[100]
Frederick was in great perplexity. To wait for his enemies to complete
their arrangements, and to commence the attack at their leisure, placed
him at great disadvantage. To begin the attack himself, and thus to
open anew the floodgates of war, would increase the hostility with
which the nations were regarding him. As the diplomacy of the foreign
cabinets had been secret, he would universally be regarded as the
aggressor. England was Frederick’s only ally--a treacherous ally,
influenced not by sympathy for Frederick, but by hatred of France,
and by fear of the loss of Hanover. The British cabinet would abandon
Prussia the first moment it should see it to be for its interest to do
so.
The King of Prussia had an army of two hundred thousand men under
perfect discipline. The Old Dessauer was dead, but many veteran
generals were in command. It was manifest that war would soon burst
forth. In addition to the personal pique of the Duchess of Pompadour,
who really ruled France, Louis XV. was greatly exasperated by the
secret alliance into which Frederick had entered with England. The
brother of the Prussian king, Augustus William, the heir-apparent
to the throne, disapproved of this alliance. He said to the French
minister, Valori, “I would give a finger from my hand had it never been
concluded.”
In July, 1756, Frederick, for form’s sake, inquired, through his
embassador at Vienna, why Maria Theresa was making such formidable
military preparations. At the same time he conferred with two of his
leading generals, Schwerin and Retzow, if it would not be better,
since it was certain that Austria and Russia would soon declare war,
to anticipate them by an attack upon Austria. The opinion of both,
which was in perfect accord with that of the king, was that it was best
immediately to seize upon Saxony, and in that rich and fertile country
to gather magazines, and make it the base for operations in Bohemia.
A spy was sent to Saxony, who reported that there were but twenty
thousand troops there. All necessary information was promptly and
secretly obtained in reference to roads and fortresses. It required
three weeks to receive an answer from Vienna. The reply was evasive,
as Frederick knew that it would be. In the mean time, his Prussian
majesty, with characteristic energy, had mustered on the frontier an
army numbering in the aggregate nearly one hundred and fifty thousand
men. These troops, in three divisions, with two thousand pieces of
artillery, were to make a rush upon Saxony. Among the directions given
by Frederick to the leaders of these divisions were the following:
“Each regiment shall take but one baggage-cart for a company. No
officer, whoever he may be or whatever his title, shall take with him
the least of silver plate, not even a silver spoon. Whoever wants to
keep table, great or small, must manage the same with tin utensils,
without exception, be he who he will.”
On the 25th of August, 1756, the king wrote from Potsdam to his
brother, the Prince of Prussia, and his sister Amelia, who were at
Berlin, as follows:
“MY DEAR BROTHER, MY DEAR SISTER,--I write you both at once for want
of time. I have as yet received no answer from Vienna. I shall not get
it till to-morrow. But I count myself surer of war than ever, as the
Austrians have named their generals, and their army is ordered to march
to Königgrätz. So that, expecting nothing else but a haughty answer, or
a very uncertain one, on which there will be no reliance possible, I
have arranged every thing for setting out on Saturday next.”
Upon the ensuing day, having received the answer from Vienna, he wrote
to his brother:
“You have seen the paper I have sent to Vienna. Their answer is, that
they have not made an offensive alliance with Russia against me. Of
the assurance that I required there is not one word, so that the sword
alone can cut this Gordian knot. I am innocent of this war. I have done
what I could to avoid it; but, whatever be one’s love of peace, one can
not, and one must not, sacrifice to that safety and honor. At present
our one thought must be to wage war in such a way as may cure our
enemies of their wish to break peace again too soon.”
On Saturday morning, August 28, 1756, the Prussian army, over one
hundred thousand strong, entered Saxony at three different points on
the northern frontier. Frederick, with about sixty thousand troops,
crossed the Elbe at Torgau, and seized upon Leipsic. Duke Ferdinand,
of Hanover, led his columns across the frontier about eighty miles to
the right. The Duke of Brunswick-Bevern crossed about the same distance
to the left. Each column was stronger than the whole Saxon army. The
appointed place of rendezvous for the three divisions was the city of
Dresden, the capital of Saxony. By the route marked out, each column
had a distance of about one hundred and fifty miles to traverse.
[Illustration: THE INVASION OF SAXONY.]
“Thus,” writes Voltaire, “Frederick invaded Saxony under the pretense
of friendship, and that he might make war upon Maria Theresa with the
money of which he should rob the Saxons.”
Not a soldier appeared to oppose the invaders. The Prussians seized,
in an unobstructed march, all the most important Saxon towns and
fortresses. The King of Poland and his court, with less than twenty
thousand troops, had fled from the capital up the river, which here
runs from the south to Pirna, where they concentrated their feeble
army, which numbered but eighteen thousand men. Frederick, with his
resistless column, entered Dresden on the 9th of September. The queen
had remained in the palace. The keys of the archives were demanded
of her. She refused to surrender them. The officers proceeded to
break open the door. The queen placed herself before the door. The
officers, shrinking from using personal violence, sent to Frederick
for instructions. He ordered them to force the archives, whatever
opposition the queen, in person, might present. The queen, to avoid a
rude assault, withdrew. The door was forced, and the archives seized.
“The king found,” writes Voltaire, “_testimonies of the dread which he
had occasioned_. The queen died soon after of grief. All Europe pitied
that unfortunate family. But in the course of those public calamities
millions of families experienced hardships not less great, though more
obscure.”[101]
Thus was commenced the Seven Years’ War. It proved one of the most
bloody and cruel strifes which man has ever waged against his brother
man. Through its terrible scenes of conflagration, blood, and despair,
Frederick obtained the renown of being one of the ablest generals who
ever marshaled armies upon fields of blood.
His Polish majesty had placed his feeble band of troops in the vicinity
of Pirna, on the Elbe, amidst the defiles of a mountainous country,
where they could easily defend themselves against superior numbers.
Winter was rapidly approaching. In those high latitudes and among those
bleak hills the storms of winter ever raged with terrible severity. The
Austrians were energetically accumulating their forces in Bohemia to
act against the Prussians. The invasion of Saxony by Frederick, without
any apparent provocation, roused all Europe to intensity of hatred and
of action.
His Prussian majesty carefully examined the position of the Saxons.
They were in a region of precipices and chasms, broken into a labyrinth
of sky-piercing and craggy rocks. The eminences, in some cases, rose
two thousand feet, and were covered with pine forests. “There is no
stronger position in the world,” Frederick writes. All these passes
were fortified, mile after mile, by batteries, ramparts, palisades,
and abattis. But the Saxon troops, taken unawares, had but a small
supply of provisions. Frederick decided to block every entrance to
their encampment, and thus to starve them out. His Polish majesty sent
frantic cries to France and Austria for help. Frederick was assailed
with the title of the “Prussian robber.”
The Dauphiness of France was daughter of the King of Poland. With tears
she craved protection for her parents. The Duchess of Pompadour was
anxious to show her gratitude to Maria Theresa, who had condescended
to address her as a “cousin and a dear sister.” A French army of one
hundred thousand men was soon on the march to aid Austria in the
liberation of Saxony. At the same time, an Austrian army of sixty
thousand men, under Marshal Browne, was advancing rapidly from Bohemia
to penetrate the fastnesses of the mountains for the release of the
Polish king.
[Illustration: BATTLE OF LOBOSITZ, OCT. 1, 1756.
_a a. Prussian Infantry, b. Cavalry, c c. Artillery. d d. Austrian
Army._]
On Friday, the 1st of October, 1756, the Prussian army under Frederick,
leaving the Saxons besieged in their encampment, marched up the river
to meet the foe advancing to the aid of the Saxons. They encountered
the Austrians, under Marshal Browne, at Lobositz, about thirty miles
south of Pirna. A terrible battle of seven hours’ duration ensued.
The opposing generals were of nearly equal ability. The soldiers were
equal in courage. The carnage of the bloody conflict was almost equal
on either side. The desperation of the Prussian assault was resistless.
Bayonet often crossed bayonet. The Austrians were driven from their
strong position into the city. The Prussians laid the city in ashes.
As the Austrians fled from the blazing streets, many, endeavoring to
swim across the Elbe, were drowned. At the close of this bloody strife
General Browne withdrew his army to the rear, where he still presented
a defiant front to the Prussians. He had lost from his ranks, in killed
and wounded, two thousand nine hundred and eighty-four. The loss of
Frederick was still greater; it numbered three thousand three hundred
and eight. Neither party would confess to a defeat.
“Never have my troops,” writes Frederick, “done such miracles of valor,
cavalry as well as infantry, since I had the honor to command them. By
this dead-lift achievement I have seen what they can do.”
The Prussians remained at Lobositz nearly a fortnight, to see if
Marshal Browne would again attempt to force the defiles. The Saxon
troops, for whose relief the Austrians were advancing, were about
thirty miles farther north, on the south, or left bank of the Elbe.
The news of the repulse of Marshal Browne at Lobositz fell disastrously
upon their starving ranks. Maria Theresa was much distressed. She sent
a messenger to her Austrian general to relieve the Saxons at whatever
cost. A confidential messenger was dispatched through the mountains
to the Saxon camp, which he reached in safety. He informed his Polish
majesty that Marshal Browne, with a picked force of eight thousand,
horse and foot, would march by a circuitous route of sixty miles, so as
to approach Pirna from the northeast, where but a small Prussian force
was stationed. He would be there without fail on the 11th of August.
The Saxons were directed to cross the Elbe, by a sudden and unexpected
march at Königstein, a few miles from Pirna. Immediately upon effecting
the passage of the river they were to fire two cannon as a signal
that the feat was accomplished. The Saxon and Austrian troops were
then to form a junction, and co-operate in crushing the few Prussian
bands which were left there as a guard. The Saxon troops would thus be
rescued from the trap in which they were inclosed, and from the famine
which was devouring them.
Marshal Browne skillfully and successfully performed his part of the
adventure. But there was no efficient co-operation by the Saxons. The
men were weak, emaciate, and perishing from hunger. Their sinews of
exertion were paralyzed. The skeleton horses could not draw the wagons
or the guns. To add to their embarrassment, a raging storm of wind and
rain burst upon the camp. The roads were converted into quagmires.
The night was pitch-dark as the Saxons, about fourteen thousand in
number, drenched with rain and groping through the mud, abandoned
their camp and endeavored to steal their way across the river. The
watchful Prussians detected the movement. A scene of confusion, terror,
slaughter ensued, which it is in vain to endeavor to describe. The
weeping skies and moaning winds indicated nature’s sympathy with these
scenes of woe. Still the unhappy Saxons struggled on heroically. After
seventy hours of toilsome marching and despairing conflict, these
unhappy peasant-lads, the victims of kingly pride, were compelled to
surrender at discretion. Marshal Browne, finding the enterprise an
utter failure, rapidly returned to the main body of his army.
Frederick was much embarrassed in deciding what to do with his
captives. They numbered about fourteen thousand. To guard and feed them
was too troublesome and expensive. They could not be exchanged, as
the King of Poland had no Prussian prisoners. To set them at liberty
would speedily place them in the Austrian ranks to fight against him.
Under these circumstances, Frederick compelled them all to enlist as
Prussian soldiers. He _compelled_ them to do this _voluntarily_, for
they had their choice either to enlist under his banners or to starve.
The King of Poland was permitted to return to Warsaw. The electorate of
Saxony, nearly as large as the State of Massachusetts, and containing
a population of one and a half millions, was annexed to Prussia. The
captured soldiers, prisoners of war, were dressed in Prussian uniform,
commanded by Prussian officers, and either placed in garrison or in the
ranks of the army in the field. The public voice of Europe condemned
Frederick very severely for so unprecedented an act.
“Think of the sounds,” writes Carlyle, “uttered from human windpipes,
shrill with rage, some of them, hoarse others with ditto; of the
vituperations, execrations, printed and vocal--grating harsh thunder
upon Frederick and this new course of his. Huge melody of discords,
shrieking, groaning, grinding on that topic through the afflicted
universe in general.”
Voltaire embraced the opportunity of giving vent to his malice in
epigrams and lampoons. Frederick was by no means insensible to public
opinion, but he was ever willing to brave that opinion if by so doing
he could accomplish his ambitious ends.
After this signal achievement his Prussian majesty established his
army in winter quarters along the banks of the Elbe. He took up his
abode in the palace of Dresden, awaiting the opening of the spring
campaign. Saxony was held with a tight grasp, and taxes and recruits
were gathered from the country as if it had always belonged to
Prussia. Frederick had hoped that his sudden campaign would have led
him into the heart of the Austrian states. Instead of this, though he
had wrested Saxony from Poland, he had given Austria ample time to
prepare her armies for a long war, and had roused all Europe to intense
hostility against him.
It became more and more manifest to Frederick that he must encounter
a terrible conflict upon the opening of the spring. Early in January
he took a short trip to Berlin, but soon returned to Dresden. Though
he avoided all appearance of anxiety, and kept up a cheerful air, he
was fully conscious of his peril. This is evident from the secret
instructions he left with his minister, Count Finck, upon his departure
from Berlin. The dispatch was dated January 10th, 1757:
“Should it chance that my army in Saxony were beaten, or that the
French should get possession of Hanover, and threaten us with invasion
from that quarter, or that the Russians should get through by Neumark,
you are to save the royal family and the archives. Should we be beaten
in Saxony, remove the royal family to Cüstrin. Should the Russians
enter by Neumark, or a misfortune befall us in the Lausitz, all must go
to Magdeburg, but not till the last extremity. The garrison, the royal
family, and the treasure must be kept together. In such a case, the
silver plate and the gold plate must at once be coined into money.
“If I am killed, affairs must go on without alteration. If I should
be taken prisoner, I forbid you from paying the least regard to my
person, or paying the least heed to what I may write from my place of
detention. Should such misfortune happen to me, I wish to sacrifice
myself for the state. You must obey my brother. He, as well as all my
ministers and generals, shall answer to me with their heads not to
offer any province or ransom for me, but to continue the war, pushing
their advances as if I had never existed in the world.”
Two days after committing this important document to Count Finck,
Frederick took leave of his mother and his brother. His mother he
never saw again. We have no evidence that on this visit he even called
upon his irreproachable, amiable, neglected wife. In preparation for
the worst, Frederick had provided poison for himself, and wore it
constantly about his person. It consisted of several small pills in a
glass tube. This fact is fully established.
All Europe, England alone excepted, was aroused against him. Armies
were every where being marshaled. The press of all continental Europe
was filled with denunciations of his crimes and encroachments. Not all
his efforts to assume a careless air could efface from his countenance
the impression left there by the struggles of his soul. His features,
as seen in a portrait painted about this time, are expressive of the
character of an anxious and unhappy man.
Early in the spring of 1757, France, Russia, Austria, Poland, and
Sweden were combined against Frederick. These countries represented a
population of one hundred millions. Frederick’s domains contained but
five millions. His annual revenue was but about ten million dollars.
He had an army in the field of one hundred and fifty thousand of the
best troops in the world. His fortresses were garrisoned by about fifty
thousand of inferior quality. The armies of the allies numbered four
hundred and thirty thousand. Frederick was regarded as an outlaw. The
design of the allies was to crush him, and to divide his territory
between them. Austria was to retake Silesia. France was to have the
Wesel-Cleve country. Russia was to annex to her domains Prussen,
Königsberg, etc. Poland, having regained Saxony, was to add to her
territory Magdeburg and Halle. Sweden was to have Pomerania. Never
before had there appeared such a combination against any man. The
situation of Frederick seemed desperate.
France was first in the field with a superb host of one hundred and ten
thousand men. The other powers speedily followed. In four great armies
of invasion these hosts pressed upon Prussia from the southeast and
southwest, the northeast and northwest. The Russian battalions were one
hundred thousand strong. The Austrian army was still more formidable.
It was supposed, that Frederick would remain in Saxony on the defensive
against the Austrians, who were rapidly gathering their army at Prague,
in Bohemia. The city was situated upon the River Moldau, one of the
tributaries of the Elbe, and was about sixty miles south of Dresden.
On the 20th of April, Frederick, having secretly placed his army in
the best possible condition, commenced a rapid march upon Prague, thus
plunging into the very heart of Bohemia. He advanced in three great
columns up the valley of the Elbe and the Moldau. His movements were
so rapid and unexpected that he seized several Austrian magazines
which they had not even time to burn. Three months’ provisions were
thus obtained for his whole army. The first column, under the king,
was sixty thousand strong. The second column, led by General Bevern,
numbered twenty-three thousand, horse and foot. The third, under
Marshal Schwerin, counted thirty-two thousand foot and twelve thousand
horse. On the 2d of May the banners of Frederick were seen from the
steeples of Prague. They appeared floating from the heights of the
Weissenberg, a few miles west of the city. At the same time, the other
two columns, which had united under Marshal Schwerin, appeared on the
east side of the Moldau, upon both banks of which the city is built.
[Illustration: THE BATTLE OF PRAGUE, MAY 6, 1757.
_a a a. First position of Austrian Army. b b b. Second position
to meet the Prussian Attack. c. Prussians under Keith. d d. First
position of Prussian Army. e e. Second position of Prussian
Army. f. Schwerin’s Prussians. g. Prussian Horse. h. Mannstein’s
Attack. i. Place of Schwerin’s Monument._]
On the 5th of May, after careful reconnoissance, Frederick crossed
the Moldau several miles north of Prague. He went over upon pontoons
unopposed, and thus effected a junction with his troops on the east
side of the river. The Austrian army was drawn up on some formidable
heights but a short distance east of the city. Their position was very
strong, and they were thoroughly intrenched. On the 6th of May the
dreadful battle of Prague was fought. For many years, as not a few of
our readers will remember, it was fought over and over again upon all
the pianos in Christendom. They will remember the awe with which, as
children, they listened to the tumult of the battle, swelling forth
from the ivory keys, with the rattle of musketry, the booming of the
cannon, and the groans of the dying--such groans as even the field of
battle itself could scarcely have rivaled.
The final and decisive struggle took place on and around two important
eminences, called the Sterbohol Hill and the Homoly Hill. Both of these
heights the Prussians stormed. In the following glowing words Carlyle
pictures the scene:
“Fearful tugging, swagging, and swaying is conceivable in this
Sterbohol problem! And, after long scanning, I rather judge that it was
in the wake of that first repulse that the veteran Schwerin himself got
his death. No one times it for us; but the fact is unforgetable; and in
the dim whirl of sequences dimly places itself there. Very certain it
is ‘at sight of his own regiment in retreat,’ Field-marshal Schwerin
seized the colors, as did other generals, who are not named, that
day. Seizes the colors, fiery old man: ‘This way, my sons!’ and rides
ahead along the straight dam again; his ‘sons’ all turning, and with
hot repentance following. ‘On, my children, this way!’ Five bits of
grape-shot, deadly each of them, at once hit the old man; dead he sinks
there on his flag; and will never fight more.
“‘This way!’ storm the others with hot tears; Adjutant Von Platen takes
the flag: Platen too is instantly shot; but another takes it. ‘This
way, on!’ in wild storm of rage and grief; in a word, they managed to
do the work at Sterbohol, they and the rest. First line, second line,
infantry, cavalry (and even the very horses, I suppose), fighting
inexpressibly; conquering one of the worst problems ever seen in war.
For the Austrians too, especially their grenadiers there, stood to it
toughly, and fought like men; and ‘every grenadier that survived of
them,’ as I read afterward, ‘got double pay for life.’
“Done, that Sterbohol work; those foot-chargings, horse-chargings; that
battery of Homoly Hill; and, hanging upon that, all manner of redoubts
and batteries to the rightward and rearward; but how it was done no
pen can describe, nor any intellect in clear sequence understand. An
enormous _mêlée_ there: new Prussian battalions charging, and ever
new, irrepressible by case-shot, as they successively get up; Marshal
Browne, too, sending for new battalions at double-quick from his left,
disputing stiffly every inch of his ground, till at length (hour not
given), a cannon shot tore away his foot, and he had to be carried
into Prague, mortally wounded. Which probably was a most important
circumstance, or the most important of all.”
“This battle,” writes Frederick, “which began toward nine in the
morning, was one of the bloodiest of the age. The enemy lost
twenty-four thousand men, of whom four thousand were prisoners. The
Prussian loss amounted to eighteen thousand fighting men, without
counting Marshal Schwerin, who was alone worth above ten thousand. This
day saw the pillars of the Prussian infantry cut down.”
Immediately after the battle, Frederick wrote rather a stately letter
to his mother, informing her of his victory, and that he was about to
pursue the foe with a hundred and fifty thousand men. Fifty thousand
of the defeated Austrians entered Prague, and stood at bay behind its
ramparts. Frederick seized all the avenues, that no provisions could
enter the city, convinced that starvation, combined with a vigorous
assault, would soon compel the garrison to surrender themselves, the
city, and all its magazines. On the 9th of May the bombardment with
red-hot balls commenced. The siege lasted six weeks, creating an
amount of misery over which angels might weep. The balls of fire were
constantly kindling wide and wasting conflagrations. Soon a large
portion of the city presented only a heap of smouldering ruins.
Besides the garrison of fifty thousand there were eighty thousand
inhabitants in the city, men, women, and children. Large numbers
perished. Some died of starvation; some were burned to death in their
blazing dwellings; some were torn to pieces by shot and shell; some
were buried beneath the ruins of their houses. In the stillness of the
night the wails and groans of the sufferers were borne on the breeze to
the ears of the Prussians in their intrenched camp. Starvation brought
pestilence, which caused the death of thousands. The inhabitants,
reduced to this state of awful misery, entreated the Austrian general
to surrender. He refused, but forced out of the gates twelve thousand
skeleton, starving people, who consumed the provisions, but could not
contribute to the defense. Frederick drove the poor creatures back
again at the point of the bayonet, threatening to shoot them all. The
cruel act was deemed a necessity of war.
Maria Theresa, anxious to save Prague, sent an army of sixty thousand
men under General Daun to its relief. This army, on the rapid march,
had reached Kolin, about fifty miles east of Prague. Should General
Daun, as was his plan, attack Frederick in the rear, while the fifty
thousand in Prague should sally out and attack him in front, ruin would
be almost inevitable. Frederick, gathering thirty-four thousand men,
marched rapidly to Kolin and attacked the foe with the utmost possible
fierceness. The Austrians not only nearly twice outnumbered him, but
were also in a very commanding position, protected by earthworks. Never
did men fight more reckless of life than did the Prussians upon this
occasion.
“And so from right wing to left,” writes Carlyle, “miles long there
is now universal storm of volleying, bayonet charging, thunder of
artillery, case-shot, cartridge-shot, and sulphurous devouring
whirlwind; the wrestle very tough and furious, especially on the
assaulting side. Here, as at Prague, the Prussian troops were one and
all in the fire, each doing strenuously his utmost. There is no reserve
left. All is gone up into one combustion. To fan the fire, to be here,
there, fanning the fire where need shows, this is now Frederick’s
function. This death-wrestle lasted, perhaps, four hours; till seven,
or perhaps eight o’clock, of a June evening.”
Frederick exposed himself like a common soldier. Indeed, it sometimes
seems that, in the desperate state of his affairs, he sought the
fatal bullet. All his efforts against the Austrians were in vain. The
Prussians were repulsed with dreadful slaughter. After losing fourteen
thousand men in killed, wounded, and prisoners, forty-five cannon,
and twenty-two flags, Frederick was compelled to order a retreat.
His magnificent regiment of guards, one thousand in number, picked
men, undoubtedly the best body of troops in the world, was almost
annihilated. The loss of the Austrians was about nine thousand men.
They were so accustomed to be defeated by Frederick that they were
equally surprised and delighted by this dearly-earned victory. The
following plan will give the military reader an idea of the position of
the hostile forces.
Still the conquerors had such dread of their foe that they dared not
emerge from their ramparts to pursue him. Had they done so, they
might easily have captured or slain his whole army. Frederick bore
adversity with great apparent equanimity. He did not for a moment lose
self-control, or manifest any agitation. With great skill he conducted
his retreat. Immediately after the battle he wrote to his friend Lord
Marischall:
“Prosperity, my dear lord, often inspires a dangerous confidence.
Twenty-three battalions were not sufficient to drive sixty
thousand men from their intrenchments. Another time we will take
our precautions better. Fortune has this day turned her back
upon me. I ought to have expected it. She is a female, and I am
not gallant. What say you to this league against the Margrave of
Brandenburg? How great would be the astonishment of the great
elector if he could see his great-grandson at war at the same
time with the Russians, the Austrians, almost all Germany, and
one hundred thousand French auxiliaries! I do not know whether
it will be disgraceful in me to be overcome, but I am sure there
will be no great glory in vanquishing me.”[102]
[Illustration: BATTLE OF KOLIN, JUNE 18, 1757.
_a a. Austrian Army, b b. Prussian Army. c. Ziethen’s Hussars. d.
Nadasti’s Hussars. e. The Oak Wood._]
Frederick retreated down the banks of the Elbe, and sent couriers to
the camp at Prague, ordering the siege immediately to be raised, and
the troops to retire down the Moldau to join him at Leitmeritz. The
news was received at the camp at two o’clock on Sunday morning, June
19, creating amazement and consternation. As Frederick was on his
retreat with his broken battalions from the field of battle, parched
with thirst, burning with heat, and smothered with dust, it is recorded
that an old dragoon brought to the king, in his steel cap, some water
which he had drawn from a well, saying to his sovereign, consolingly,
“Never mind, sire, God Almighty and we will mend this yet. The enemy
may get a victory for once, but that does not send us to the devil.”
At Nimburg, about twenty miles from Kolin, where the retiring Prussians
were crossing the Elbe, Frederick sat upon a green mound, lost in
thought, as his troops defiled before him. He was scratching figures
upon the sand with his stick.
[Illustration: AFTER THE DEFEAT.]
“Raising his eyes,” says Archenholtz, “he surveyed, with speechless
emotion, the small remnant of his life-guard of foot, his favorite
battalion. It was one thousand strong yesterday morning, hardly four
hundred now. All the soldiers of this chosen battalion were personally
known to him--their names, their age, their native place, their
history. In one day death had mowed them down. They had fought like
heroes, and it was for him they had died. His eyes were visibly wet.
Down his face rolled silent tears.”
Suddenly dashing the tears away, he issued his swift orders, and,
mounting his horse, galloped to Prague, where he arrived Sunday
evening. The next day the siege was raised, and the besieging troops
were on the retreat north into Saxony. The whole army was soon
rendezvoused at Leitmeritz, on the Elbe, about thirty miles south of
Dresden. Here Frederick awaited the development of the next movement of
his foes.
He had hardly arrived at Leitmeritz ere he received the tidings of
the death of Sophia Dorothea, his mother. She died at Berlin on the
28th of June, 1757, in the seventy-first year of her age. This grief,
coming in the train of disasters which seemed to be overwhelming his
Prussian majesty, affected him very deeply. Frederick was subdued and
softened by sorrow. He remembered the time when a mother’s love rocked
his cradle, and wrapped him around with tender care. The reader will
be surprised to learn that his grief--perhaps with some comminglings
of remorse--was so great that he shut himself in his closet, and wept
with sobbings like a child.