The Battle of Liegnitz
The deplorable result of these operations weighed heavily upon the King
and never before did he inaugurate a campaign in a more despondent mood
than that of 1760. It affected all his movements and all his actions and
at last it seemed as if his lucky star would never shine again. In
Silesia, the Austrian General Laudon, with a force three times greater,
attacked General Fouqué, and his eight thousand men. Fouqué defended
himself with the courage of a lion, and his soldiers fought none the
less bravely, but he had the misfortune to be thrown from his horse in
such a way that the animal fell upon him and undoubtedly would have
crushed him to death but for the opportune arrival of his faithful
groom. Only such troopers as had swift enough horses escaped from the
scene of slaughter.
Frederick meanwhile was busy with his plans for retaking Dresden. He
closely invested that city, but whatever moves he made were immediately
thwarted by the Austrian general, who made a resolute defence of the
post entrusted to him. The failure of his plans only made the King still
more despondent. His best friends and most experienced generals suffered
greatly from his ill humor, for he was often not only severe, but
grossly unjust. He called the soldiers of one regiment cowards, and cut
off the decorations from their uniforms beside taking away their
sidearms and badges of honor. One blow after another struck the King.
Hardly had he learned of the destruction of Fouqué’s corps when the
unhappy news came that General Laudon had taken the important fortress
of Glatz. Everyone now expected another wrathful outbreak from the King,
but on the contrary he remarked:
“Be it so! But they will have to give it back when peace is made. We
must now go to Silesia lest we lose everything.”
His decision was executed almost as soon as it was announced. While on
the way, Daun was near him on one side and the Austrian General Lacy on
the other. The three armies were so close together that they might
easily have been mistaken for one. The light troops had frequent
skirmishes, and hardly a day passed without encounters. Thus they fought
their way along to Liegnitz. Further advance of the King was now
impossible, for Laudon appeared in front of him. He was completely
surrounded by the Austrian armies. The enemy’s leaders were jubilant
over the prospect of capturing the King and his entire army.
“The net is made in which we will capture the whole Prussian army,” they
said, contemptuously. “We have only to cast it.”
The King was informed of their boast and laughingly replied: “That may
be so, but I think I can make a hole in that net which they can’t sew up
again.”
These were prophetic words.
The King’s army now was so closely hemmed in by the Austrians that a
mouse could not have slipped through, and the transportation of
subsistence was impossible. Instead of commissary bread, zwiebach was
distributed among the soldiers. The King often diverted himself toward
evening by walking or riding among the squadrons of the _Garde du Corps_
and talking with the men in a joking way, so as to keep them in good
spirits and arouse hope for better times. Upon one such occasion he
happened upon an under-officer who had broken his zwiebach and mixed it
with a flask of red wine in the camp kettle, hanging over the fire.
“What kind of red soup is that you have there?” asked the King.
“Your Majesty,” was the reply, “that soup cost me seven thalers in
cash.”
“Hoho! hoho!” said the King, “what is it?”
“It is red wine and zwiebach. I spent my last ducat[22] that I might
have a little comfort once more.”
“Well, if it has cost that much, I would like to know how it tastes.”
“Certainly, Your Majesty, but I have only a tin spoon.”
“That makes no difference.”
Thereupon the King took a spoonful of the soup and said: “This is really
very good, but it is too expensive. But I thank you just the same, and
you must come soon and eat with me.”
The King shortly afterward ordered the officer to come to his
headquarters, and there he appeased his hunger with such food as
Frederick ate. Beside this, the King gave him a handsome sum in gold. In
such ways as these he managed to win the love and respect of his
soldiers.
To the astonishment of all, Daun decided upon a battle, hoping thus to
ensure the destruction of the Prussian army. The decisive blow was to be
struck August 15, and to make it all the more decisive he arranged for
an attack at daybreak and a repetition of the slaughter at Hochkirch.
This time, however, Frederick was fortunate enough to hear of the plan
and he made a counterplan at once. The Prussian army left its camp in
absolute silence during the night and occupied the neighboring heights;
and to make the Austrians believe it was resting quietly in its old
position, peasants were employed to keep the campfires burning brightly.
Noiselessly Frederick arranged his army in fighting order. Silently the
regiments stood in rank and listened for the signal to attack. There was
something weird in the spectacle. The infantry stood with weapons ready
for attack, and bright sabres flashed in the stout fists of the troopers
ready at any instant to strike. Far down in the east day was dawning,
and the silent host in the gray dusk looked like a troop of spectres.
To enjoy a moment’s rest, Generals Seydlitz and Zieten threw themselves
down by a campfire and slept; but Frederick, sitting upon a drumhead,
considered the plans of the coming battle. At last he too was overcome
by fatigue, and lying by the side of his generals was soon asleep.
Suddenly a major rushed up and loudly asked, “Where is the King?”
The latter, somewhat startled, arose at once and answered, “What is the
matter?”
“The enemy is not four hundred yards away,” was his reply.
[Illustration: _Frederick at the watch-fire before the battle of
Liegnitz_]
Officers and men were at once on the alert. Two minutes sufficed to form
the regiments in order. Words of command were heard on all sides. The
cavalry made ready for the onset. The thunder of artillery resounded
over hill and valley, and in less than ten minutes the battle was
raging. Frederick’s invincible spirit worked wonders. General Laudon had
not expected such a reception and was utterly astonished to find a
powerful force confronting him when he expected to surprise the
Prussians in their camp. But in this emergency everything depended upon
energy and courage. He made a brave assault, but the Prussians made a
braver resistance. They fought like lions, and if it had been lighter
the enemy would have been mercilessly slaughtered. When the sun rose it
illuminated the field covered with bodies and broken weapons. The four
hours’ sanguinary conflict was decided. The Prussians won a complete
victory, and the Austrians lost ten thousand men, beside twenty-three
standards and eighty-two cannon. Thus ended the battle of Liegnitz,
August 15, 1760.