In the beginning of September, 1744, war again broke out between the
Houses of Austria and Prussia. We marched with all speed towards Prague,
traversing Saxony without opposition. I will not relate in this place
what the great Frederic said to us, with evident emotion, when surrounded
by all his officers, on the morning of our departure from Potzdam.
Should any one be desirous of writing the lives of him and his opponent,
Maria Theresa, without flattery and without fear, let him apply to me,
and I will relate anecdotes most surprising on this subject, unknown to
all but myself, and which never must appear under my own name.
All monarchs going to war have reason on their side; and the churches of
both parties resound with prayers, and appeals to Divine Justice, for the
success of their arms. Frederic, on this occasion, had recourse to them
with regret, of which I was a witness.
If I am not mistaken, the King's army came before Prague on the 14th of
September, and that of General Schwerin, which had passed through
Silesia, arrived the next day on the other side of the Moldau. In this
position we were obliged to wait some days for pontoons, without which we
could not establish a communication between the two armies.
The height called Zischka, which overlooks the city, being guarded only
by a few Croats, was instantly seized, without opposition, by some
grenadiers, and the batteries, erected at the foot of that mountain,
being ready on the fifth day, played with such success on the old town
with bombs and red-hot balls that it was set on fire. The King made
every effort to take the city before Prince Charles could bring his army
from the Rhine to its relief.
General Harsh thought proper to capitulate, after a siege of twelve days,
during which not more than five hundred men of the garrison, at the
utmost, were killed and wounded, though eighteen thousand men were made
prisoners.
Thus far we had met with no impediment. The Imperial army, however,
under the command of Prince Charles of Lorraine, having quitted the banks
of the Rhine, was advancing to save Bohemia.
During this campaign we saw the enemy only at a distance; but the
Austrian light troops being thrice as numerous as ours, prevented us from
all foraging. Winter was approaching, dearth and hunger made Frederic
determine to retreat, without the least hope from the countries in our
rear, which we had entirely laid waste as we had advanced. The severity
of the season, in the month of November, rendered the soldiers
excessively impatient of their hardships; and, accustomed to conquer, the
Prussians were ashamed of and repined at retreat: the enemy's light
troops facilitated desertion, and we lost, in a few weeks, above thirty
thousand men. The pandours of my kinsman, the Austrian Trenck, were
incessantly at our heels, gave us frequent alarms, did us great injury,
and, by their alertness, we never could make any impression upon them
with our cannon. Trenck at length passed the Elbe, and went and burnt
and destroyed our magazines at Pardubitz: it was therefore resolved
wholly to evacuate Bohemia.
The King hoped to have brought Prince Charles to the battle between
Benneschan and Kannupitz, but in vain: the Saxons, during the night, had
entered a battery of three-and-twenty cannon on a mound which separated
two ponds: this was the precise road by which the King meant to make the
attack.
Thus were we obliged to abandon Bohemia. The dearth, both for man and
horse, began to grow extreme. The weather was bad; the roads and ruts
were deep; marches were continual, and alarms and attacks from the
enemy's light troops became incessant. The discontent all these inspired
was universal, and this occasioned the great loss of the army.
Under such circumstances, had Prince Charles continued to harass us, by
persuading us into Silesia, had he made a winter campaign, instead of
remaining indolently at ease in Bohemia, we certainly should not have
vanquished him, the year following, at Strigau; but he only followed at a
distance, as far as the Bohemian frontiers. This gave Frederic time to
recover, and the more effectually because the Austrians had the
imprudence to permit the return of deserters.
This was a repetition of what had happened to Charles XII. when he
suffered his Russian prisoners to return home, who afterwards so
effectually punished his contempt of them at the battle of Pultawa.
Prague was obliged to be abandoned, with considerable loss; and Trenck
seized on Tabor, Budweis, and Frauenberg, where he took prisoners the
regiments of Walrabe Kreutz.
No one would have been better able to give a faithful history of this
campaign than myself, had I room in this place, and had I at that time
been more attentive to things of moment; since I not only performed the
office of adjutant to the King, when he went to reconnoitre, or choose a
place of encampment, but it was, moreover, my duty to provide forage for
the headquarters. The King having only permitted me to take six
volunteers from the body guard, to execute this latter duty, I was
obliged to add to them horse chasseurs, and hussars, with whom I was
continually in motion. I was peculiarly fortunate on two occasions, by
happening to come after the enemy when they had left loaded waggons and
forage bundles.
I seldom passed the night in my tent during this campaign, and my
indefatigable activity obtained the favour and entire confidence of
Frederic. Nothing so much contributed to inspire me with emulation as
the public praises I received, and my enthusiasm wished to perform
wonders. The campaign, however, but ill supplied me with opportunities
to display my youthful ardour.
At length no one durst leave the camp, notwithstanding the extremity of
the dearth, because of the innumerable clouds of pandours and hussars
that hovered everywhere around.
No sooner were we arrived in Silesia, than the King's body guard were
sent to Berlin, there to remain in winter quarters.
I should not here have mentioned the Bohemian war, but that, while
writing time history of my life, I ought not to omit accidents by which
my future destiny was influenced.
One day, while at Bennaschen, I was commanded out, with a detachment of
thirty hussars and twenty chasseurs, on a foraging party. I had posted
my hussars in a convent, and gone myself, with the chasseurs, to a
mansion-house, to seize the carts necessary for the conveyance of the hay
and straw from a neighbouring farm. An Austrian lieutenant of hussars,
concealed with thirty-six horsemen in a wood, having remarked the
weakness of my escort, taking advantage of the moment when my people were
all employed in loading the carts, first seized our sentinel, and then
fell suddenly upon them, and took them all prisoners in the very farm-
yard. At this moment I was seated at my ease, beside the lady of the
mansion-house, and was a spectator of the whole transaction through the
window.
I was ashamed of and in despair at my negligence. The kind lady wished
to hide me when the firing was heard in the farm-yard. By good fortune,
the hussars, whom I had stationed in the convent, had learnt from a
peasant that there was an Austrian detachment in the wood: they had seen
us at a distance enter the farmyard, hastily marched to our aid, and we
had not been taken more than two minutes before they arrived. I cannot
express the pleasure with which I put myself at their head. Some of the
enemy's party escaped through a back door, but we made two-and-twenty
prisoners, with a lieutenant of the regiment of Kalnockichen. They had
two men killed, and one wounded; and two also of my chasseurs were hewn
down by the sabre, in the hay-loft, where they were at work.
We continued our forage with more caution after this accident: the horses
we had taken served, in part, to draw the carts; and, after raising a
contribution of one hundred and fifty ducats on the convent, which I
distributed among the soldiers to engage them to silence, we returned to
the army, from which we were distant about two leagues.
We heard firing as we marched, and the foragers on all sides were
skirmishing with the enemy. A lieutenant and forty horse joined me; yet,
with this reinforcement, I durst not return to the camp, because I
learned we were in danger from more than eight hundred pandours and
hussars, who were in the plain. I therefore determined to take a long,
winding, but secret route, and had the good fortune to come safe to
quarters with my prisoners and five-and-twenty loaded carts. The King
was at dinner when I entered his tent. Having been absent all night, it
was imagined I had been taken, that accident having happened the same day
to many others.
The instant I entered, the King demanded if I returned singly. "No,
please your Majesty," answered I; "I have brought five-and-twenty loads
of forage, and two-and-twenty prisoners, with their officer and horses."
The King then commanded me to sit down, and turning himself towards the
English ambassador, who was near him, said, laying his hand on my
shoulder, "_C'est un Matador de ma jeunesse_."
A reconnoitring party was, at the same moment, in waiting before his
tent: he consequently asked me few questions, and to those he did ask, I
replied trembling. In a few minutes he rose from the table, gave a
glance at the prisoners, hung the Order of Merit round my neck, commanded
me to go and take repose, and set off with his party.
It is easy to conceive the embarrassment of my situation; my unpardonable
negligence deserved that I should have been broken, instead of which I
was rewarded; an instance, this, of the great influence of chance on the
affairs of the world. How many generals have gained victories by their
very errors, which have been afterwards attributed to their genius! It is
evident the sergeant of hussars, who retook me and my men by bringing up
his party, was much better entitled than myself to the recompense I
received. On many occasions have I since met with disgrace and
punishment when I deserved reward. My inquietude lest the truth should
be discovered, was extreme, especially recollecting how many people were
in the secret: and my apprehensions were incessant.
As I did not want money, I gave the sergeants twenty ducats each, and the
soldiers one, in order to insure their silence, which, being a favourite
with them, they readily promised. I, however, was determined to declare
the truth the very first opportunity, and this happened a few days after.
We were on our march, and I, as cornet, was at the head of my company,
when the King, advancing, beckoned me to come to him, and bade me tell
him exactly how the affair I had so lately been engaged in happened.
The question at first made me mistrust I was betrayed, but remarking the
King had a mildness in his manner, I presently recovered myself, and
related the exact truth. I saw the astonishment of his countenance, but
I at the same time saw he was pleased with my sincerity. He spoke to me
for half an hour, not as a King, but as a father, praised my candour, and
ended with the following words, which, while life remains, I shall never
forget: "Confide in the advice I give you; depend wholly upon me, and I
will make you a man." Whoever can feel, may imagine how infinitely my
gratitude towards the King was increased, by this his great goodness;
from that moment I had no other desire than to live and die for his
service.
I soon perceived the confidence the King had in me after this
explanation, of which I received very frequent marks, the following
winter, at Berlin. He permitted me to be present at his conversations
with the literati of his court, and my state was truly enviable.
I received this same winter more than five hundred ducats as presents. So
much happiness could not but excite jealousy, and this began to be
manifest on every side. I had too little disguise for a courtier, and my
heart was much too open and frank.
Before I proceed, I will here relate an incident which happened during
the last campaign, and which will, no doubt, be read in the history of
Frederic.
On the rout while retreating through Bohemia, the King came to Kollin,
with his horse-guards, the cavalry piquets of the head-quarters, and the
second and third battalions of guards. We had only four field pieces,
and our squadron was stationed in one of the suburbs. Our advance posts,
towards evening, were driven back into the town, and the hussars entered
pell-mell: the enemy's light troops swarmed over the country, and my
commanding officer sent me immediately to receive the King's orders.
After much search, I found him at the top of a steeple, with a telescope
in his hand. Never did I see him so disturbed or undecided as on this
occasion. Orders were immediately given that we should retreat through
the city, into the opposite suburb, where we were to halt, but not
unsaddle.
We had not been here long before a most heavy rain fell, and the night
became exceedingly dark. My cousin Trenck made his approach about nine
in the evening, with his pandour and janissary music, and set fire to
several houses. They found we were in the suburb, and began to fire upon
us from the city windows. The tumult became extreme: the city was too
full for us to re-enter: the gate was shut, and they fired from above at
us with our field-pieces. Trenck had let in the waters upon us, and we
were up to the girths by midnight, and almost in despair. We lost seven
men, and my horse was wounded in the neck.
The King, and all of us, had certainly been made prisoners had my cousin,
as he has since told me, been able to continue the assault he had begun:
but a cannon ball having wounded him in the foot, he was carried off, and
the pandours retired. The corps of Nassau arrived next day to our aid;
we quitted Kollin, and during the march the King said to me, "Your cousin
had nearly played us a malicious prank last night, but the deserters say
he is killed." He then asked what our relationship was, and there our
conversation ended.