The Battle of Zenta
In the year 1697 we find Prince Eugene a Field-Marshal. How did he
arrive so quickly at such high honors?
Old Count von Starhemberg, at that time president of the Imperial
Council of War, had recommended him to the Emperor with the words: “I
know of no one who possesses more understanding, experience, industry,
and zeal in the Emperor’s service, no one who is more generous and
unselfish, or who possesses the love of the soldiery to a higher degree,
than Prince Eugene of Savoy.” This was a recommendation which carried
great weight, above all from the mouth of so brave, thorough, and
experienced a soldier as old Starhemberg, the valiant defender of
Vienna. It was a time also when such a well recommended man could be
very useful.
All was quiet in Italy, to be sure; the campaign on the Rhine was not
being very actively conducted; but in Hungary the arch-enemy of
Christendom threatened anew, and Eugene was the real scourge of the
Turks. This warlike nation had, in more recent years, gained the
ascendency through the breaking up of the imperial forces. The Elector
of Saxony, Frederick August the Second, as the Emperor’s
commander-in-chief, had not been man enough to hold them back or destroy
them. Fortunately, just at the right time, he was relieved of the
command of the army, by accepting the throne of Poland. In this position
he injured the German cause far less than he might have done as a
soldier. When the Emperor’s troops in Hungary learned that Prince Eugene
was to command them again, there was loud rejoicing. Starhemberg’s words
about the love of the soldiers for him had already proved themselves
true. It was really from this time that Eugene began his victorious
career. He had now to depend solely on himself; upon his own powers, his
own genius, and had no one above or beside him to tie his hands.
It must not be forgotten that Belgrade had again been taken from the
Emperor. The Viennese Council of War did not consider it prudent, just
then, to attempt its recapture, although Eugene would certainly have
accomplished the task. It was far more necessary to furnish the
half-starved army with provisions and clothing, and to improve the very
loose discipline. For this latter task Eugene, with all his mildness,
was well fitted—for the soldiers loved the thirty-two-year-old
Field-Marshal like a father, and love makes obedience easy. Eugene
gathered the scattered army together into camp at Cobila. Here he
learned that the Turkish ruler, Mustapha the Second, was in Belgrade and
had built bridges over the rivers Danube and Save.
It was the universal opinion in the army that the Turks intended to
cross the Save and attack Peterwardein. Eugene was the only one who
understood the situation. He saw that the Turks had quite a different
plan, and intended to push forward by forced marches toward Siebenbürgen
to attack the eight Austrian regiments under General Rabutin, who were
coming up. Leaving a sufficiently strong corps behind to observe the
enemy, Eugene marched with the greater part of his forces along the
Theiss to meet Rabutin.
It turned out splendidly; the meeting took place; and now Eugene
determined to return to Peterwardein to defend this fortress against
possible attacks of the enemy. He arrived there just in time to prevent
the Turks from destroying the bridges over the marshes at St.
Thomas-Syreck. A cheerful and courageous spirit prevailed throughout the
army; the confidence of the leader communicated itself to each
individual soldier. Eugene had good spies and scouts, those necessary
evils of the army even down to our day. From one of them he learned that
the Turks were going to advance on Szegedin, take the city and then
hurry on to Siebenbürgen.
As this had to be prevented under all circumstances, Eugene hurried
forward so quickly by forced marches, that by the twelfth of September
he was within a mile of the enemy. He determined to attack at once. You
should have seen the former little _abbé_ or Capuchin now! The thought
of fighting his first battle independently, without interference from
any one, developed in the highest degree all the latent resources of his
genius. He was equally ready in decision and in execution, and still his
plans were so well considered and to the point that, as an eye witness
declared, “there was no loophole for the goddess of chance to decide the
day against him.”
Scarcely had Eugene completed the placing of his army when a part of the
Turkish cavalry made a descent upon him. To repulse them with great loss
was an easy matter. And now the cannon began to roar from all sides—a
terrible concert. One could see, from the continuous cloud of dust in
the Turkish camp, that the Austrians were hitting the mark. After a
sharp bombardment, the command was given, “Forward! march!” The Turkish
intrenchments had to be taken in spite of a heavy fire from the enemy’s
lines. It was a bloody piece of work in which many a brave soldier bit
the dust. Very likely the columns sometimes hesitated, but a glance at
their brave leaders, their beloved Prince Eugene at the head, urged them
forward. During this advance toward the enemy’s front, Eugene had
ordered the left wing of the army, under Starhemberg, to open a passage
into the enemy’s camp across the sandbars of the Theiss.
In spite of the desperate defence of the janissaries who, attacked from
the rear, fought with the courage of despair, they were forced back step
by step. The Austrian lines reached the intrenchments, which they
carried with a rush and then began to scale the walls. To heighten the
courage of his soldiers still more, Eugene himself led the cavalry
regiment Styrum into the fight. Once more a terrific conflict broke out
at the barricades, once more success seemed doubtful. There was less and
less room for the cavalry to operate; there was nothing left but to
leave the outcome to the already decimated infantry. But this the
cavalry did not wish to do; they wanted to claim a share in the honors
of victory. Like lightning they dismounted, mingling with the rapidly
advancing infantry, and together they threw themselves against the
intrenchments.
The janissaries saw that they were lost, but they resolved to sell their
lives dearly. They threw away their muskets and drew their sabres. A
short but terrible carnage began, man to man, eye to eye. The Emperor’s
troops in the majority, holding the advantage on every side, did
terrible destruction. At last, with cries like wild animals, the
janissaries turned for flight; all was not lost—the outlet over the
bridge was still open. Horrible delusion! The general’s eye had not
failed here. The road to the bridge had long since been cut off—no
outlet in any direction, no help! In wild confusion the Turks swarmed
the rocky banks of the Theiss, where they were pushed, crowded by their
own numbers and driven into the water by the Austrians with loud cries
of victory, and thus most of them perished in the river. Terrible
conflicts such as these took place all over the battle-field. Drunk with
victory, the soldiers seemed to crave blood. With cries of: “This for
Vienna!” “This for Buda!” “This for Belgrade!” they gave no quarter, and
scorned the highest ransoms offered in order to take vengeance on their
ancient enemies.
It was only nightfall which ended this bloody battle. Twenty thousand
Turks lay dead or wounded on the field, ten thousand had found death in
the wild waters of the Theiss. Barely a thousand had fled to the
opposite shore, whence the Sultan watched the destruction of the
faithful; the tragic end of his hopes. In the fear that his retreat
toward Temesvar might be cut off by the Austrian troops, he rode away in
the night on a fleet steed, accompanied by only a small band.
Messengers of victory hurried to Vienna. In his report to the Emperor,
Eugene picturesquely said: “Even the sun would not set, until it had
seen the complete triumph of the imperial arms.” And the great general
added: “Next to God’s help, the victory at Zenta is to be ascribed to
the heroic spirit of the leaders and soldiers.” This modest soldier said
not a word about himself and yet he had been the soul of it all. His
military keenness, the boldness of his decisions, and not least of all,
the energy with which he had carried out his plans on this day—which
will always be a glorious one in Austrian annals—redound to his highest
fame.
Eugene’s fame spread on the wings of the wind over the whole of Germany
and of Europe. He was classed with the greatest generals and even his
enemies said, “This has been a miracle.”
What must King Louis the Fourteenth and Louvois have thought of this?
Perhaps they may have had a presentiment that some day France herself
might be in his power.
The following day Eugene led the victorious army into the deserted camp
of the Sultan. Here they discovered treasures beyond belief. Besides
three million piastres in the war chest, they found an immense quantity
of all kinds of weapons, all the ammunition and baggage, whole herds of
camels, oxen, and sheep, and a great number of flags, horsetails,
standards, and other trophies of war.
Such a victory as this at Zenta had never been won by Christians over
unbelievers, and the heathen had never before suffered such a terrible
defeat. It was now necessary to follow up the victory and to gather the
fruits of it. The way in which Eugene contrived to do this in spite of
many drawbacks and hindrances serves but to add another glorious leaf to
his victor’s wreath. In short, in a single campaign he had reconquered
Siebenbürgen, Hungary as far as Temesvar, also Banat and Slavonia as far
as Belgrade for his Emperor.
At the end of November Eugene returned to Vienna. The Emperor received
him with every mark of favor and gratitude, and presented him with a
sword richly set with precious stones. The populace enthusiastically
greeted the famous conqueror of the Turks. He who had already so often
repulsed the infidels had now exceeded their wildest hopes. Eugene
became the people’s hero and ever remained so.
On the twenty-sixth of January, 1699, peace was declared between the
Emperor and the Porte, after seventy-two days of negotiations at
Carlovitz, a little town near Peterwardein. This consummation, ardently
desired by conquerors and conquered, had been brought about by Eugene.
The time of peace was taken advantage of by the Prince to found a home
for himself in Vienna. This had long been his secret wish so that he
could live quietly and devote himself to scientific study, for which he
was more and more inclined. The house which he bought stood in the
street called “Gate of Heaven,” in the same place where later he built
his new palace Belvedere, at present the seat of the Ministry of
Finance. The Emperor also presented him with important estates in
Hungary, and the Prince bought others for a mere song. There were now
great hopes for an extended period of peace. The sound of arms had died
away in the West as well as in the East, and even the mischief-maker,
King Louis the Fourteenth, was eager to bequeath to his people the
memory of a peace-loving ruler. The world drew a long breath, but
alas—all too soon, to be again plunged into fresh disorders and new
alarms of war.