MORAVIAN FORAY.
While these Coronation splendors had been going on, Friedrich, in the
Moravian regions, was making experiences of a rather painful kind; his
Expedition prospering there far otherwise than he had expected. This
winter Expedition to Mahren was one of the first Friedrich had ever
undertaken on the Joint-stock Principle; and it proved of a kind rather
to disgust him with that method in affairs of war.
A deeply disappointing Expedition. The country hereabouts was in bad
posture of defence; nothing between us and Vienna itself, in a manner.
Rushing briskly forward, living on the country where needful, on that
Iglau Magazine, on one's own Sechelles resources; rushing on, with
the Saxons, with the French, emulous on the right hand and the left,
a Captain like Friedrich might have gone far; Vienna itself--who
knows!--not yet quite beyond the reach of him. Here was a way to
check Khevenhuller in his Bavarian Operations, and whirl him back,
double-quick, for another object nearer home!--But, alas, neither the
Saxons nor the French would rush on, in the least emulous. The Saxons
dragged heavily arear; the French Detachment (a poor 5,000 under
Polastron, all that a captious Broglio could be persuaded to grant)
would not rush at all, but paused on the very frontier of Moravia,
Broglio so ordering, and there hung supine, or indeed went home.
Friedrich remonstrated, argued, turned back to encourage; but it was
in vain. The Saxon Bastard Princes "lived for days in any Schloss they
found comfortable;" complaining always that there was no victual for
their Troops; that the Prussians, always ahead, had eaten the country.
No end to haggling; and, except on Friedrich's part, no hearty beginning
to real business. "If you wish at all to be 'King of Moravia,' what is
this!" thinks Friedrich justly. Broglio, too, was unmanageable,--piqued
that Valori, not Broglio, had started the thing;--showed himself
captious, dark, hysterically effervescent, now over-cautious, and again
capable of rushing blindly headlong.
To Broglio the fact at Linz, which everybody saw to be momentous, was
overwhelming. Magnanimous Segur, and his Linz "all wedged with beams,"
what a road have they gone! Said so valiantly they would make defence;
and did it, scarcely for four days: January 24th; before this Expedition
could begin! True, M. le Marechal, too true:--and is that a reason
for hanging back in this Mahren business; or for pushing on in it,
double-quick, with all one's strength? "But our Conquests on the Donau,"
thinks Broglio, "what will become of them,--and of us!" To Broglio,
justly apprehensive about his own posture at Prag and on the Donau,
there never was such a chance of at once raking back all Austrians
homewards, post-haste out of those countries. But Broglio could by no
means see it so,--headstrong, blusterous, over-cautious and hysterically
headlong old gentleman; whose conduct at Prag here brought Strasburg
vividly to Friedrich's memory. Upon which, as upon the ghost of
Broglio's Breeches, Valori had to hear "incessant sarcasms" at this
time.
In a word, from February 5th, when Friedrich, according to bargain,
rendezvoused his Prussians at Wischau to begin this Expedition, till
April 5th, when he re-rendezvoused them (at the same Wischau, as
chanced) for the purpose of ending it and going home,--Friedrich,
wrestling his utmost with Human Stupidity, "MIT DER DUMMHEIT
[as Schiller sonorously says], against which the very gods are
unvictorious," had probably two of the most provoking months of his
Life, or of this First Silesian War, which was fruitful in such to him.
For the common cause he accomplished nearly nothing by this Moravian
Expedition. But, to his own mind, it was rich in experiences, as to the
Joint-Stock Principle, as to the Partners he now had. And it doubtless
quickened his steps towards getting personally out of this imbroglio of
big French-German Wars,--home to Berlin, with Peace and Silesia in his
pocket,--which had all along been the goal of his endeavors. As a
feat of war it is by no means worth detailing, in this place,--though
succinct Stille, and bulkier German Books give lucid account, should
anybody chance to be curious. [Stille, _Campaigns of the King of
Prussia,_ i. 1-55; _Helden-Geschichte,_ ii. 548-611; _OEuvres de
Frederic,_ ii. 110-114; Orlich, ii.; &c. &c.] Only under the other
aspect, as Friedrich's experience of Partnership, and especially of his
now Partners, are present readers concerned to have, in brief form, some
intelligible notion of it.
IGLAU IS GOT, BUT NOT THE MAGAZINE AT IGLAU.
Friedrich was punctual at Wischau; Head-quarters there (midway between
Olmutz and Brunn), Prussians all assembled, 5th February, 1742. Wischau
is some eighty miles EAST or inward of Iglau; the French and Saxons are
to meet us about Trebitsch, a couple of marches from that Teutschbrod
of theirs, and well within one march of Iglau, on our route thither.
The French and Saxons are at Trebitsch, accordingly; but their minds
and wills seem to be far elsewhere. Rutowsky and the Chevalier de Saxe
command the Saxons (20,000 strong on paper, 16,000 in reality); Comte
de Polastron the French, who are 5,000, all Horse. Along with whom,
professedly as French Volunteer, has come the Comte de Saxe, capricious
Maurice (Marechal de Saxe that will be), who has always viewed
this Expedition with disfavor. Excellency Valori is with the French
Detachment, or rather poor Valori is everywhere; running about, from
quarter to quarter, sometimes to Prag itself; assiduous to heal rents
everywhere; clapping cement into manifold cracks, from day to day.
Through Valori we get some interesting glimpses into the secret humors
and manoeuvres of Comte Maurice. It is known otherwise Comte Maurice was
no friend to Belleisle, but looked for his promotion from the opposite
or Noailles party, in the French Court: at present, as Valori perceives,
he has got the ear of Broglio, and put much sad stuff into the loud
foolish mind of him.
To these Saxon gentlemen, being Bastard-Royal and important to
conciliate, Friedrich has in a high-flown way assigned the Schloss of
Budischau for quarters, an excellent superbly magnificent mansion in
the neighborhood of Trebitsch, "nothing like it to be seen except
in theatres, on the Drop-scene of _The Enchanted Island;"_ [Stille,
_Campaigns,_ p. 14.] where they make themselves so comfortable, says
Friedrich, there is no getting them roused to do anything for three days
to come. And yet the work is urgent, and plenty of it. "Iglau, first of
all," urges Friedrich, "where the Austrians, 10,000 or so, under Prince
Lobkowitz, have posted themselves [right flank of that long straggle of
Winter Cantonments, which goes leftwards to Budweis and farther], and
made Magazines: possession of Iglau is the foundation-stone of our
affairs. And if we would have Iglau WITH the Magazines and not without,
surely there is not a moment to be wasted!" In vain; the Saxon Bastard
Princes feel themselves very comfortable. It was Sunday the 11th of
February, when our junction with them was completed: and, instead of
next morning early, it is Wednesday afternoon before Prince Dietrich
of Anhalt-Dessau, with the Saxon and French party roused to join his
Prussians and him, can at last take the road for Iglau. Prince Dietrich
makes now the reverse of delay; marches all night, "bivouacs in woods
near Iglau," warming himself at stick-fires till the day break; takes
Iglau by merely marching into it and scattering 2,000 Pandours, so soon
as day has broken; but finds the Magazines not there. Lobkowitz carted
off what he could, then burnt "Seventeen Barns yesterday;" and is
himself off towards Budweis Head-quarters and the Bohemian bogs again.
This comes of lodging Saxon royal gentlemen too well.
THE SAXONS THINK IGLAU ENOUGH; THE FRENCH GO HOME.
Nay, Iglau taken, the affair grows worse than ever. Our Saxons now
declare that they understand their orders to be completed; that their
Court did not mean them to march farther, but only to hold by Iglau,
a solid footing in Moravia, which will suffice for the present. Fancy
Friedrich; fancy Valori, and the cracks he will have to fill! Friedrich,
in astonishment and indignation, sends a messenger to Dresden: "Would
the Polish Majesty BE 'King of Moravia,' then, or not be?" Remonstrances
at Budischau rise higher and higher; Valori, to prevent total explosion,
flies over once, in the dead of the night, to deal with Rutowsky and
Brothers. Rutowsky himself seems partly persuadable, though dreadfully
ill of rheumatism. They rouse Comte Maurice; and Valori, by this
Comte's caprices, is driven out of patience. "He talked with a flippant
sophistry, almost with an insolence" says Valori; "nay, at last, he made
me a gesture in speaking,"--what gesture, thumb to nose, or what, the
shuddering imagination dare not guess! But Valori, nettled to the quick,
"repeated it," and otherwise gave him as good as he brought. "He ended
by a gesture which displeased me"--"and went to bed." [Valori, i. 148,
149.] This is the night of February 18th; third night after Iglau was
had, and the Magazines in it gone to ashes. Which the Saxons think is
conquest enough.
Poor Polish Majesty, poor Karl Albert, above all, now "Kaiser Karl
VII.," with nothing but those French for breath to his nostrils! With
his fine French Army of the Oriflamme, Karl Albert should have pushed
along last Autumn; and not merely "read the Paper" which Friedrich
sent him to that effect, "and then laid it aside." They will never have
another chance, his French and he,--unless we call this again a chance;
which they are again squandering! Linz went by capitulation; January
24th, the very day of one's "Election" as they called it: and ever
since that day of Linz, the series of disasters has continued rapid and
uniform in those parts. Linz gone, the rest of the French posts did not
even wait to capitulate; but crackled all off, they and our Conquests
on the Donau, like a train of gunpowder, and left the ground bare. And
General von Barenklau (BEAR'S-CLAW), with the hideous fellow called
Mentzel, Colonel of Pandours, they have broken through into Bavaria
itself, from the Tyrol; climbing by Berchtesgaden and the wild Salzburg
Mountains, regardless of Winter, and of poor Bavarian militia-folk;--and
have taken Munchen, one's very Capital, one's very House and Home!--Poor
Karl Albert,--and, what is again remarkable, it was the very day while
he was getting "crowned" at Frankfurt, "with Oriental pomp," that
Mentzel was about entering Munchen with his Pandours. [Coronation was
February 12th; Capitulation to Mentzel, "Munchen, February 13th," is in
_ Guerre de Boheme,_ ii. 56-59.] And this poor Archduke of the Austrian,
King of Bohemia, Kaiser of the Holy Romish Reich Teutsch by Nation, is
becoming Titular merely, and owns next to nothing in these extensive
Sovereignties. Judge if there is not call for despatch on all
sides!--The Polish Majesty sent instant rather angry order to his
Saxons, "Forward, with you; what else! We would be King in Mahren!"
The Saxons then have to march forward; but we can fancy with what a
will. Rutowsky flings up his command on this Order (let us hope, from
rheumatism partly), and goes home; leaving the Chevalier de Saxe
to preside in room of him. As for Polastron, he produces Order from
Broglio, "Iglau got, return straightway;" must and will cross over into
Bohemia again; and does. Nay, the Comte de Saxe had, privately in his
pocket, a Commission to supersede Polastron, and take command himself,
should Polastron make difficulties about turning back. Poor Polastron
made no difficulties: Maurice and he vanish accordingly from this
Adventure, and only the unwilling Saxons remain with Friedrich. Poor
Polastron ("a poor weak creature," says Friedrich, "fitter for
his breviary than anything else") fell sick, from the hardships of
campaigning; and soon died, in those Bohemian parts. Maurice is heard
of, some weeks hence, besieging Eger;--very handsomely capturing Eger:
[19th April, 1742 (_Guerre de Boheme,_ ii. 78-65).]--on which service
Broglio had ordered him after his return. The former Commandant of the
Siege, not very progressive, had just died; and Broglio, with reason
(all the more for his late Moravian procedures) was passionate to have
done there. One of the first auspicious exploits of Maurice, that of
Eger; which paved the way to his French fortunes, and more or less
sublime glories, in this War. Friedrich recognizes his ingenuities,
impetuosities, and superior talent in war; wrote high-flown Letters of
praises, now and then, in years coming; but, we may guess, would hardly
wish to meet Maurice in the way of joint-stock business again.
FRIEDRICH SUBMERGES THE MORAVIAN COUNTRIES; BUT CANNOT BRUNN, WHICH IS
THE INDISPENSABLE POINT.
February 19th, these sad Iglau matters once settled, Friedrich, followed
by the Saxons, plunges forward into Moravia; spreads himself over
the country, levying heavy contributions, with strict discipline
nevertheless; intent to get hold of Brunn and its Spielberg, if he
could. Brunn is the strong place of Moravia; has a garrison of 6 or
7,000; still better, has the valiant Roth, whom we knew in Neisse once,
for Commandant: Brunn will not be had gratis.
Schwerin, with a Detachment of 6,000 horse and foot, Posadowsky,
Ziethen, Schmettau Junior commanding under him, has dashed along far in
the van; towards Upper Austria, through the Town of Horn, towards Vienna
itself; levying, he also, heavy contributions,--with a hand of iron,
and not much of a glove on it, as we judge. There is a grim enough
Proclamation (in the name of a "frightfully injured Kaiser," as well as
Kaiser's Ally), still extant, bearing Schwerin's signature, and the date
"STEIN, 26th Feb. 1742." [In _Helden-Geschichte,_ ii. 556.] Stein is
on the Donau, a mile or two from Krems, and twice as far from Mautern,
where the now Kaiser was in Autumn last. Forty and odd miles short of
Vienna: this proved the Pisgah of Schwerin in that direction, as it had
done of Karl Albert. Ziethen, with his Hussars coursed some 20 miles
farther, on the Vienna Highway; and got the length of Stockerau; a small
Town, notable slightly, ever since, as the Prussian NON-PLUS-ULTRA in
that line.
Meanwhile, Prince Lobkowitz is rallying; has quitted Budweis and the
Bohemian Bogs, for some check of these insolences. Lobkowitz, rallying
to himself what Vienna force there is, comes, now in good strength, to
Waidhofen (rearward of Horn, far rearward of Stein and Stockerau),
so that Ziethen and Schwerin have to draw homeward again. Lobkowitz
fortifies himself in Waidhofen; gathers Magazines there, as if towards
weightier enterprises. For indeed much is rallying, in a dangerous
manner; and Moravia is now far other than when Friedrich planned this
Expedition. And at Vienna, 25th February last, there was held Secret
Council, and (much to Robinson's regret) a quite high Resolution come
to,--which Friedrich gets to know of, and does not forget again.
THE SAXONS HAVE NO CANNON FOR BRUNN, CANNOT AFFORD ANY; THERE IS A HIGH
RESOLUTION TAKEN AT VIENNA (February 25th): FRIEDRICH QUITS THE MORAVIAN
ENTERPRISE.
Friedrich keeps his Head-quarter, all this while, closer and closer
upon Brunn. First, chiefly at a Town called Znaim, on the River Taya;
many-branched river, draining all those Northwestern parts; which sends
its widening waters down to Presburg,--latterly in junction with those
of the Morawa from North, which washes Olmutz, drains the Northern and
Eastern parts, and gives the Country its name of "Moravia." Brunn lies
northeast of Friedrich, while in Znaim, some fifty miles; the Saxon
head-quarter is at Kromau, midway towards that City. After Znaim, he
shifts inward, to Selowitz, still in the same Taya Valley, but much
nearer Brunn; and there continues. [At Znaim, 19th February-9th March;
at Selowitz, 13th March-5th April (Rodenbeck, i. 65).]
Striving hard for Brunn; striving hard, under difficulties, for so
many things distant and near; we may fancy him busy enough;--and are
surprised at the fractions of light Jordan Correspondence which he still
finds time for. Pretty bits of Letters, in prose and doggerel, from and
to those Moravian Villages; Jordan, "twice a week," bearing the main
weight; Friedrich, oftener than one could hope, flinging some word of
answer,--very intent on Berlin gossip, we can notice. "Vattel is
still here, your Majesty," [_OEuvres,_ xvii. 163, &c.] insinuates
Jordan:--young Vattel, afterwards of the DROIT DES GENS, whom his
Majesty might have kept, but did not.--What more of your D'Argens, then;
anything in your D'Argens? Friedrich will ask. "For certain, D'Argens
is full of ESPRIT," answers Jordan, in a dexterous way; and How the
Effulgent of Wurtemberg" has quarrelled outright with her D'Argens,
and will not eat off silver (D'ARGENT), lest she have to name him by
accident!"--with other gossip, in a fine brief airy form, at which
Jordan excels. Cheering the rare leisure hour, in one's Tent at
Selowitz, Pohrlitz, Irrlitz, far away!--There are also orders about
CICERO and Books. Of Business for most part, or of private feelings,
nothing: Berlin gossip, and Books for one's reading, are the staple. But
to return.
Out from Head-quarters, diligent operations shoot forth, far enough,
along those Taya-Morawa Valleys, where Hungarian "Insurgents" are
beginning to be dangerous. South of Brunn, all round Brunn, are
diligent operations, frequent skirmishings, constant strict levyings of
contributions. The saving operation, Friedrich well sees, would be
to get hold of Brunn: but, unluckily, How? Vigilant Roth scorns all
summoning; sallies continually in a dangerous manner; and at length,
when closer pressed, burns all the Villages round him: "we counted as
many as sixteen villages laid in ashes," says Friedrich. Here is small
comfort of outlook.
And then the Saxons, at Kromau or wherever they may be: no end of
trouble and vexation with these Saxons. Their quarters are not fairly
allotted, they say; we make exchange of quarters, without improvement
noticeable. "One fine day, on some slight alarm, they came rushing
over to us, all in panic; ruined, merely by Pandour noises, had not we
marched them back, and reinstated them." Friedrich sends to Silesia for
reinforcements of his own, which he can depend upon. Sends to Silesia, to
Glatz and the Young Dessauer;--nay to Brandenburg and the Old Dessauer?
ultimately. Finding Roth would not yield, he has sent to Dresden for
Siege-Artillery: Polish Majesty there, titular "King of Moravia,"
answers that he cannot meet the expense of carriage. "He had just
purchased a green diamond which would have carried them thither and back
again:" What can be done with such a man?--And by this time, early in
March, Hungarian "MORIAMUR PRO REGE" begins to show itself. Clouds of
Hungarian Insurgents, of the Tolpatch, Pandour sort, mount over the
Carpathians on us, all round the east, from south to north; and threaten
to penetrate Silesia itself. So that we have to sweep laboriously the
Morawa-Taya Valleys; and undertake first one and then another outroad,
or sharp swift sally, against those troublesome barbarians.
And more serious still, Prince Karl and the regular Army, quickened
by such Khevenhuller-Barenklau successes in the Donau Countries,
are beginning to stir. Prince Karl, returning from Vienna and its
consultations, took command, 4th March; [_Helden-Geschichte,_ ii. 557.]
with whom has come old Graf von Konigseck, an experienced head to advise
with; Prince Karl is in motion, skirting us southward, about Waidhofen,
where Lobkowitz lay waiting him with Magazines ready. Rumor says, the
force in those parts is already 40,000, with more daily coming in.
Friedrich has of his own, apart from the Saxons, some 24,000. Prince
Karl, with so many heavy troops, and with unlimited supply of light, is
very capable of doing mischief: he has orders (and Friedrich now knows
of it) To go in upon us;--such their decision in Secret Council
at Vienna, on the 25th of February last, That he must go and fight
us:--"Better we met him with fewer thrums on our hands!" thinks
Friedrich; and beckons the Old Dessauer out of Brandenburg withal.
"Swift, your Serenity; hitherward with 20,000!" Which the Old Dessauer
(having 30,000 to pick from, late Camp-of-Gottin people) at once sets
about. Will be a security, in any event! [Orlich, i. 221: Date of the
Order, "13th March, 1742."] To finish with Brunn, Friedrich has sent for
Siege-Artillery of his own; he urges Chevalier de Saxe to close with him
round Brunn, and batter it energetically into swift surrender. Is it not
the one thing needful? Chevalier de Saxe admits, half promises; does
not perform. Being again urged, Why have not you performed? he answers,
"Alas, your Majesty, here are Orders for me to join Marshal Broglio at
Prag, and retire altogether out of this!"
"Altogether out of it," thinks Friedrich to himself: "may all the Powers
be thanked! Then I too, without disgrace, can go altogether out of
it;--and it shall be a sharp eye that sees me in joint-stock with you
again, M. le Chevalier." Friedrich has written in his HISTORY, and
Valori used to hear him often say in words, Never were tidings welcomer
than these, that the Saxons were about to desert him in this manner. Go:
and may all the Devils--But we will not fall into profane swearing. It
is proper to get out of this Enterprise at one's best speed, and
never get into the like of it again! Friedrich (on this strange Saxon
revelation, 30th March) takes instant order for assembling at Wischau
again, for departing towards Olmutz; thence homewards, with deliberate
celerity, by the Landskron mountain-country, Tribau, Zwittau,
Leutomischl, and the way he came. He has countermanded his Silesian
reinforcements; these and the rest shall rendezvous at Chrudim in
Bohemia; whitherwards the two Dessauers are bound:--in Brunn, with its
wrecked environs, famed Spielberg looking down from its conical height,
and sixteen villages in ashes, Roth shall do his own way henceforth.
The Saxons pushed straight homewards; did not "rejoin Broglio," rejoin
anybody,--had, in fact, done with this First Silesian War, as it proved;
and were ready for the OPPOSITE side, on a Second falling out! Their
march, this time, was long and harassing,--sad bloody passage in it,
from Pandours and hostile Village-people, almost at starting, "four
Companies of our Rear-guard cut down to nine men; Village burnt, and
Villagers exterminated (SIC), by the rescuing party." [Details in
_Helden-Geschichte,_ ii. 606; in &c. &c.] They arrived at Leitmeritz
and their own Border, "hardly above 8,000 effective." Naturally, in a
highly indignant humor; and much disposed to blame somebody. To the
poor Polish NON-Moravian Majesty, enlightened by his Bruhls and
Staff-Officers, it became a fixed truth that the blame was all
Friedrich's,--"starving us, marching us about!"--that Friedrich's
conduct to us was abominable, and deserved fixed resentment. Which
accordingly it got, from the simple Polish Majesty, otherwise a
good-natured creature;--got, and kept. To Friedrich's very great
astonishment, and to his considerable disadvantage, long after!
Friedrich's look, when Valori met him again coming home from this
Moravian Futility, was "FAROUCHE," fierce and dark; his laugh bitter,
sardonic; harsh mockery, contempt and suppressed rage, looking through
all he said. A proud young King, getting instructed in several things,
by the stripes of experience. Look in that young Portrait by Pesne, the
full cheeks, and fine mouth capable of truculence withal, the brow
not unused to knit itself, and the eyes flashing out in sharp diligent
inspection, of a somewhat commanding nature. We can fancy the face
very impressive upon Valori in these circumstances. Poor Valori has
had dreadful work; running to and fro, with his equipages breaking,
his servants falling all sick, his invaluable D'Arget (Valori's chief
Secretary, whom mark) quite disabled; and Valori's troubles are not
done. He has been to Prag lately; is returning futile, as usual. Driving
through the Mountains to rejoin Friedrich, he meets the Prussians in
retreat; learns that the Pandours, extremely voracious, are ahead; that
he had better turn, and wait for his Majesty about Chrudim in the Elbe
region, upon highways, and within reach of Prag.
Friedrich, on the 5th of April, is in full march out of the Moravian
Countries,--which are now getting submerged in deluges of Pandours;
towards the above-said Chrudim, whereabouts his Magazines lie, where
privately he intends to wait for Prince Karl, and that Vienna Order
of the 25th February, with hands clearer of thrums. The march goes in
proper columns, dislocations; Prince Dietrich, on the right, with
a separate Corps, bent else-whither than to Chrudim, keeps off the
Pandours. A march laborious, mountainous, on roads of such quality; but,
except baggage-difficulties and the like, nothing material going wrong.
"On the 13th [April], we marched to Zwittau, over the Mountain of
Schonhengst. The passage over this Mountain is very steep; but not so
impracticable as it had been represented; because the cannon and wagons
can be drawn round the sides of it." [Stille, p. 86.] Yes;--and readers
may (in fancy) look about them from the top; for we shall go this road
again, sixteen years hence; hardly in happier circumstances!
Friedrich gets to Chrudim, April 17th; there meets the Young Dessauer
with his forces: by and by the Old Dessauer, too, comes to an Interview
there (of which shortly). The Old Dessauer--his 20,000 not with him,
at the moment, but resting some way behind, till he return--is to go
eastward with part of them; eastward, Troppau-Jablunka way, and drive
those Pandour Insurgencies to their own side of the Mountains: a job Old
Leopold likes better than that of the Gottin Camp of last year. Other
part of the 20,000 is to reinforce Young Leopold and the King, and
go into cantonments and "refreshment-quarters" here at Chrudim. Here,
living on Bohemia, with Silesia at their back, shall the Troops repose
a little; and be ready for Prince Karl, if he will come on. That is what
Friedrich looks to, as the main Consolation left.
In Moravia, now overrun with Pandours, precursors of Prince Karl, he
has left Prince Dietrich of Anhalt, able still to maintain himself, with
Olmutz as Head-quarters, for a calculated term of days: Dietrich is,
with all diligence, to collect Magazines for that Jablunka-Troppau
Service, and march thither to his Father with the same (cutting his way
through those Pandour swarms); and leaving Mahren as bare as possible,
for Prince Karl's behoof. All which Prince Dietrich does, in a gallant,
soldier-like, prudent and valiant manner,--with details of danger well
fronted, of prompt dexterity, of difficulty overcome; which might
be interesting to soldier students, if there were among us any such
species; but cannot be dwelt upon here. It is a march of 60 or 70 miles
(northeast, not northwest as Friedrich's had been), through continual
Pandours, perils and difficulties:--met in the due way by Prince
Dietrich, whose toils and valors had been of distinguished quality in
this Moravian Business. Take one example, not of very serious nature (in
the present March to Troppau):--
"OLISCHAU, EVENING OF APRIL 21st. Just as we were getting into Olischau
[still only in the environs of Olmutz], the Vanguard of Prince Karl's
Army appeared on the Heights. It did not attack; but retired, Olmutz
way, for the night. Prince Dietrich, not doubting but it would return
next day, made the necessary preparations overnight. Nothing of it
returned next day; Prince Dietrich, therefore, in the night of April
22d, pushed forward his sick-wagons, meal-wagons, heavy baggage,
peaceably to Sternberg; and, at dawn on the morrow, followed with
his army, Cavalry ahead, Infantry to rear;" nothing whatever
happening,--unless this be a kind of thing:--"Our Infantry had scarcely
got the last bridge broken down after passing it, when the roofs of
Olischau seemed as it were to blow up; the Inhabitants simultaneously
seizing that moment, and firing, with violent diligence, a prodigious
number of shot at us,--no one of which, owing to their hurry and the
distance, took any effect;" [Stille, p. 50.] but only testified what
their valedictory humor was.
Or again--(Place, this time, is UNGARISCH-BROD, near Goding on the
Moravian-Hungarian Frontier, date MARCH 13th; one of those swift
Outroads, against Insurgents or "Hungarian Militias" threatening to
gather):--... "Godinq on our Moravian side of the Border, and
then Skalitz on their Hungarian, being thus finished, we make for
Ungarisch-Brod," the next nucleus of Insurgency. And there is the
following minute phenomenon,--fit for a picturesque human memory: "As
this, from Skalitz to Ungarisch-Brod, is a long march, and the roads
were almost impassable, Prince Dietrich with his Corps did not arrive
till after dark. So that, having sufficiently blocked the place with
parties of horse and foot, he had, in spite of thick-falling snow, to
wait under the open sky for daylight. In which circumstances, all that
were not on sentry lay down on their arms;" slept heartily, we hope;
"and there was half an ell of snow on them, when day broke." [BERICHT
VON DER UNTERNEHMUNG DES &c. (in Seyfarth, _Beylage,_ i. p. 508).]
When day broke, and they shook themselves to their feet again,--to the
astonishment of Ungarisch-Brod!...
There had been fine passages of arms, throughout, in this Business,
round Brunn, in the March home, and elsewhere; and Friedrich is
well contented with the conduct of his men and generals,--and dwells
afterwards with evident satisfaction on some of the feats they did. [For
instance, TRUCHSESS VON WALDBURG'S fine bit of Spartanism (14th
March, at Lesch, near Brunn, near AUSTERLITZ withal), which was
much celebrated; King himself, from Selowitz, heard the cannonading
(Seyfarth, _Beylage,_ i. 518-520). Selchow's feat (ib. 521). Fouquet's
(this is the CAPTAIN Fonquet, with "MY two candles, Sir," of the old
Custrin-Prison time; who is dear to Friedrich ever since, and to the
end): "Account of Fouquet's Grenadier Battalion, to and at Fulnek,
January-April, 1742 (is in _Feldzuge der Preussen,_ i. 176-184);
especially his March, from Fulnek, homewards, part of Prince Dietrich's
that way (in Seyfarth, _Beylage,_ i. 510-515). With various others (in
SEYFARTH and FELDZUGE): well worth reading till you understand them.] I
am sorry to say, General Schwerin has taken pique at this preference of
the Old Dessauer for the Troppau Anti-Pandour Operation; and is home
in a huff: not to reappear in active life for some years to come. "The
Little Marlborough,"--so they call him (for he was at Blenheim, and has
abrupt hot ways),--will not participate in Prince Karl's consolatory
Visit, then! Better so, thinks Friedrich perhaps (remembering Mollwitz):
"This is the freak of an imitation ANGLAIS!" sneers he, in mentioning
it to Jordan.--Friedrich's Synopsis of this Moravian Failure of an
Expedition, in answer to Jordan's curiosity about it,--curiosity
implied, not expressed by the modest Jordan, is characteristic:--
"Moravia, which is a very bad Country, could not be held, owing to want
of victual; and the Town of Brunn could not be taken, because the Saxons
had no cannon; and when you wish to enter a Town, you must first make
a hole to get in by. Besides, the Country has been reduced to such a
state: that the Enemy cannot subsist in it, and you will soon see him
leave it. There is your little military lesson; I would not have you
at a loss what to think of our Operations; or what to say, should other
people talk of them in your presence!" [Friedrich to Jordan (_OEuvres,_
xvii. 196), Chrudim, 5th May, 1742.]
"Winter Campaigns," says Friedrich elsewhere, much in earnest, and
looking back on this thing long afterwards, "Winter Campaigns are bad,
and should always be avoided, except in cases of necessity. The best
Army in the world is liable to be ruined by them. I myself have made
more Winter Campaigns than any General of this Age; but there were
reasons. Thus:--
"In 1740," Winter Campaign which we saw, "there were hardly above two
Austrian regiments in Silesia, at Karl VI.'s death. Being determined to
assert my right to that Duchy, I had to try it at once, in winter, and
carry the war, if possible, to the Banks of the Neisse. Had I waited
till spring, we must have begun the war between Crossen and Glogau; what
was now to be gained by one march would then have cost us three or four
campaigns. A sufficient reason, this, for campaigning in winter.
"If I did not succeed in the Winter Campaign of 1742," Campaign which we
have just got out of, "which I made with a design to deliver the Elector
of Bavaria's Country, then overrun by Austria, it was because the French
acted like fools, and the Saxons like traitors." Mark that deliberate
opinion.
"In 1745-46," Winter Campaign which we expect to see, "the Austrians
having got Silesia, it was necessary to drive them out. The Saxons and
they had formed a design to enter my Hereditary Dominions, to destroy
them with fire and sword. I was beforehand with them. I carried the
War into the heart of Saxony." [MILITARY INSTRUCTIONS WRITTEN BY &c.
"translated by an Officer" (London, 1762), pp. 171, 172. One of the
best, or altogether the best, of Friedrich's excellent little Books
written successively (thrice-PRIVATE, could they have been kept so)
for the instruction of his Officers. Is to be found now in _OEuvres
de Frederic,_ xxviii. (that is vol. i. of the _"OEuvres Militaires,"_
which occupy 3 vols.) pp. 4 et seqq.]
Digesting many bitter-enough thoughts, Friedrich has cantoned about
Chrudim; expecting, in grim composed humor, the one Consolation there
can now be. February 25th, as readers well know, the Majesty of Hungary
and her Aulic Council had decided, "One stroke more, O Excellency
Robinson; one Battle more for our Silesian jewel of the crown! If
beaten, we will then give it up; oh, not till then!" Robinson and
Hyndford,--imagination may faintly represent their feelings, on the
wilful downbreak of Klein-Schnellendorf; or what clamor and urgency the
Majesty of Britain and they have been making ever since. But they could
carry it no further: "One stroke more!"
At Chrudim, and to the right and the left of it, sprinkled about in
long, very thin, elliptic shape (thirty or forty miles long, but capable
of coalescing "within eight-and-forty hours"), there lies Friedrich: the
Elbe River is behind him; beyond Elbe are his Magazines, at Konigsgratz,
Nimburg, Podiebrad, Pardubitz; the Giant Mountains, and world of
Bohemian Hills, closing-in the background, far off: that is his
position, if readers will consult their Map. The consolatory Visit, he
privately thinks, cannot be till the grass come; that is, not till June,
two months hence; but there also he was a little mistaken.