Sunday, July 29th, at Frankfurt-on-Oder divine worship was broken in
upon, and the poor City thrown into consternation, by actual advent,
or as good as advent, of the Russians: "On the Crossen road, close by;
coming, come!" And they did undeniably appear, next morning, in force;
on the opposite, eastern or Kunersdorf side of the River, on the top
of the Oder-Dam there; and demanded instant admission, under penalty of
general death by fire.
Within the Town stood Major Arnim, a Veteran of those parts, with 400
militia; these, with their muskets and with two cannon, are the only
defence of Frankfurt, The Town has Gates; but its walls, I doubt, are
mainly garden-walls and house-walls. On the eastern side, the River,
especially if you have cannon on the Bridge, gives it something of
protection; but on the western and all other sides, it is overhung by
heights. This Frankfurt, like its bigger Namesake on the Mayn, is known
as a busy trading place, its Fairs much frequented in those Eastern
parts; and is believed by the Russians to be far richer than it is. The
reader, as there happens to be ocular testimony extant, [Johann Zudwig
Kriele, SCHLACHT BEI KUNERSDORF, MIT &C. (Berlin, 1801). Kriele was
subsequent Pastor in the Parish, an excellent intelligent man: has
compiled in brief form, with an elaborate Chart too, a clear account of
everything, in the Battle and before and after it.] may like to see a
little how they behaved there.
"Arnim, taking survey of the Russian Party, values it, or what he can
see of it, at 1,000 [they really were 6,000]; keeps his Drawbridge up;
and answers stoutly enough, 'No.' Upon which, from the Oder-Dam, there
flies off one fiery grenado; one and no more,--which alighted in the
house of 'Mrs. Thielicke, a Baker's Widow, who was standing at the
door;'--killed poor Mrs. Thielicke, blew the house considerably to
wreck, but did not set fire to it. Amim, all the Magistrates entreating
him for the love of Heaven to leave them, is secretly shoving off his
two cannon to the Northern Gate; and in fact is making his packages
with full speed: 'Push for Custrin,' thinks Arnim, and save selves and
cannon, since no good is to be done here!'
"It was about 11 A.M. when the Thielicke grenado fell: obstinate Arnim
would by no means go; only packed all the faster. A second summons
came: still, No. For the third and last time the Russians then summon:
'Grenadoes, a hundred more of them lie ready, unless--!' 'We will, we
will; O merciful servant of Czarish Majesty!' passionately signify the
Magistrates. But Arnim is still negative, still keeps the Bridge up. One
of the hundred does go, by way of foretaste: this lighted 'near the
Ober Kirche, in the chimney of the Town Musikus;' brought the chimney
crashing down on him [fancy a man with some fineness of ear]; tore the
house a good deal to pieces, but again did not set it on fire. 'Your
obstinate Town can be bombarded, then,--cannot it?' observed the Russian
Messenger.--'Give us Free Withdrawal!' proposes Amim. 'No; you to
be Prisoners of War; Town at Czarish Majesty's discretion.' 'Never,'
answers Arnim (to the outward ear).--'Go, oh, for the love of Heaven,
go!' cry all Official people.
"Arnim, deaf to clamor, but steadily diligent in getting ready, does at
last go; through the Lebus Suburb, quick march; steady, yet at his best
step;--taking the Town-keys in his pocket, and leaving the Drawbridge
up. One is sorry for poor Arnim and his 400 Militia; whose conduct was
perfect, under difficulties and alarms; but proved unsuccessful. The
terrified Magistrates, finding their Keys gone, and the conflagrative
Russians at their gates, got blacksmiths on the instant; smote down, by
chisel and mallet, the locked Drawbridge, smote open the Gates: 'Enter,
O gracious Sirs; and may Czarish Majesty have mercy on us!' So that
Arnim had small start for marchers on foot; and was overtaken about
half-way. Would not yield still, though the odds were overwhelming; drew
himself out on the best ground discoverable; made hot resistance; hot
and skilful; but in vain. About six in the evening, Arnim and Party
were brought back, Prisoners, to Frankfurt again,--self, surviving men,
cannons and all (self in a wounded state);--and 'were locked in various
Brew-houses;' little of careful surgery, I should fear. Poor Arnim; man
could do no more; and he has been unfortunate."
It is by no means our intention to describe the Iliad of miseries,
the agitations, terrors and disquietudes, the tribulation and utter
harrowing to despair, which poor Frankfurt underwent, incessantly from
that day forward, for about five weeks to come. "The furnishings of
victual [Russian stock quite out] were to an inconceivable amount;
surrender of arms, of linens, cloths, of everything useful to a hungry
Army; above all things, of horses, so that at last there were but four
horses left in all Frankfurt; and"--But we must not go into details.
"On the second day, besides all this," what will be significant of it
all, "there was exacted 'ransom of 600,000 thalers (90,000 pounds), or
you shall be delivered to the Cossacks!' Frankfurt has not above 12,000
inhabitants within its bounds; here is a sudden poll-tax of 7 pounds
10s. per head. Frankfurt has not such a sum; the most rigorous
collection did not yield above the tenth part of it. And more than once
those sanguinary vagabonds were openly drawn out, pitch-link in hand:
'The 90,000 pounds or--!' Civic Presidency Office in Frankfurt was not a
bed of roses. The poor Magistrates rushed distractedly about; wrung out
moneys to the last drop; moneys, and in the end plate from those that
had it; went in tearful deputation to General Soltikof,--a severe proud
kind of man, capable perhaps of being flattered,--who usually locked
them up instead. Magistrates were locked in Russian ward, at one time,
for almost a week; sat in the blazing sun; if you try for the shade of
a tree, the sentry handles arms upon you;--and were like to die. To me,
Kriele, it is a miracle how the most of us lived; nay we never really
wanted food, so kind was Providence, so generous our poor neighbors out
of all the Towns round. The utmost of money that could be raised was
6,000 pounds; nothing but some little of plate, and our Bill for the
remainder. Soltikof, a high kind of gentleman, saw at last how it
stood; let the Magistrates out of ward; sent back the plate--'Nothing of
that!'--nay, Czarish Majesty was herself generous; and FORGAVE the Bill,
on our petition, next Year. Cossacks, indeed, were a plunderous wild
crew; but the Russians kept them mostly without the gates. The regular
Russians were civil and orderly, officers and men,--greatly beyond the
Austrians in behavior." [Kriele, _Schlacht bei Kunersdorf;_ pp. 1-15 (in
compressed state).] By these few traits conceive Frankfurt: this, now
forgotten in most books, is a background on which things were transacted
still memorable to everybody.
"Friday, August 3d, General Loudon came to hand: arrived early, in the
Guben (or Western) Suburb, his 18,000 and he. In high spirits naturally,
and somewhat exultant to have evaded Friedrich; but found a reception
that surprised him. The Russians had been living in the hope of
junction; but still more vividly in that of meal. 'Auxiliaries;
humph,--only 18,000 of them; how much welcomer had been as many
hundredweights of meal!' Loudon had pushed his baggage direct into
Frankfurt; and likewise a requisition of such and such proviants,
weights of meal and the like, in exuberant amount, to be furnished
straightway by the City: neither of which procedures would the
Russians hear of for a moment. 'Out with you!' said they roughly to the
baggage-people: 'quarter in the Guben Suburb, or where you like; not
here!' And with regard to the requisition of proviant, they answered
in a scornful angry key, 'Proviant? You too without it? You have not
brought us meal, according to covenant; instead of meal, you bring us
18,000 new eaters, most of them on horse-back,--Satan thank you! From
Frankfurt be very certain you can get no ounce of meal; Frankfurt is our
own poor meal-bag, dreadfully scanty: stay outside, and feed where and
how you can!'
"All this, Loudon, though of hot temper, easily capable of rising to
the fierce point, had to endure in silence, for the common interest.
Loudon's own table is furnished from Frankfurt; no other Austrian man's:
all others have to shift how they can. Sad requisitioning needed, and
sad plunder to supplement it: the Austrian behavior was very bad, say
the Frankfurters; 'in particular, they had burnt gradually all the
corn-mills in the country; within many miles not one mill standing
when they left us,'--and four horses all the conveyance power we had.
Soltikof lodges in great pomp, much soldiery and cannon parading before
his doors; not an undignified man, or an inhuman or essentially foolish,
but very high in his ways, and distasteful to Austrian dignitaries."
The Russian Army lies mainly across Oder; encamped on the Judenberg, and
eastward there, along the Heights, near three miles, to Kunersdorf and
beyond. They expect Friedrich at the gates of Frankfurt shortly; know
well that they cannot defend Frankfurt. They calculate that Friedrich
will attack them in their Judenberg Encampment, but hope they are nearly
ready for him there. Loudon, from the Guben Suburb, will hasten across,
at any moment;--welcome on such fighting occasion, though ill seen
when the question is of eating! The Russians have their Wagenburg on an
Island southward, farther up the River; they have three Pontoon Bridges
leading thither, a free retreat should they be beaten. And in the
mean while are intrenching themselves, as only Daun would,--cannon and
redoubts all round those Heights;--and except it be screwing Frankfurt
to do its impossible duty, and carting provender with all the horses
except four, have not much farther to do but wait till the King come.
Which will be speedily, it is probable!--
Wednesday, August 8th, Russian and Austrian Generals, a cheerful party
of them, had rendezvoused at FISCHERS MUHLE; a Mill not yet burnt, and a
pleasant Tavern as well; in one of the prettiest valleys in the Western
Environs;--intending to dine there, and have a pleasant day. But the
Miller's Boy runs in upon them, wide-eyed, "HIMMEL UND ERDE, Prussian
Hussars!" It was in verity Prussian Hussars; the King of Prussia with
them in person. He is come out reconnoitring,--the day after his arrival
in those parts. The pleasuring Generals, Russian and Austrian, sprang to
horseback at their swiftest,--hope of dinner gone futile, except to the
intervening Prussian Hussars;--and would have all been captured, but
for that Miller's Boy; whose Mill too was burnt before long. This gallop
home of the undined Generals into Frankfurt was the first news we poor
Frankfurters had of the King's arrival.
The King has been punctual to his reckoning: he picked up Wedell at
Mullrose,--not too cordial to Wedell's people: "None of you speak to
those beaten wretches," ordered he; "till perhaps they wipe off
their Zullichau stain!" On the 7th, Friedrich advanced to Frankfurt
neighborhood; took Camp between Wulkow and Lebus;--and has just been
out reconnoitring. And has raised, fancy what emotion in poor Frankfurt
lying under its nightmare! "Next day, August 9th, from Wulkow-Lebus hand,
we" of Frankfurt, "heard a great firing; cannon-salvos, musket-volleys:
'Nothing of fight,' the Russian Officers told us; 'it is the King of
Prussia doing joy-fire for Minden,' of which we till now knew nothing."
Friedrich, on survey of this Russian-Austrian Army, some 90,000 in
number, with such posts, artilleries, advantages, judges that he,
counting only 40,000, is not strong enough. And, indeed, had so
anticipated, and already judged; and, accordingly, has Finck on march
hitherward again,--Berlin must take its risk, Saxony must shift for
itself in the interim. Finck is due in two days,--not here at Lebus
precisely, but at another place appointed; Finck will raise him to
50,000; and then business can begin! Contrary to Russian expectation,
Friedrich does not attack Frankfurt; seems quite quiet in his
cantonments;--he is quietly (if one knew it) making preparations
farther down the River. About Reitwein, between this and Custrin, there
arrangements are proceeding, by no means of a showy sort.
The Russian-Austrian Army quits Frankfurt, leaving only some hundreds
of garrison: Loudon moves across, Soltikof across; to the Oder-Dam and
farther; and lie, powerfully intrenched, on those Kunersdorf Heights,
and sandy Moorlands, which go eastward at right-angles to Oder-Dam. One
of the strongest Camps imaginable. All round there, to beyond Kunersdorf
and back again, near three miles each way, they have a ring of redoubts,
and artillery without end. And lie there, in order of battle, or nearly
so; ready for Friedrich, when he shall attack, through Frankfurt or
otherwise. They face to the North (Reitwein way, as it happens); to
their rear, and indeed to their front, only not so close, are woods and
intricate wilds. Loudon has the left flank; that is to say, Loudon's
left hand is towards the Oder-Dam and Frankfurt; he lies at the ROTHE
VORWERK ("Red Grange," a Farmstead much mentioned just now); rather
to northwestward of the Jew Hill and Jew Churchyard (JUDENBERG and
JUDENKIRCHHOF, likewise much mentioned); and in advance of the general
Mass. Soltikof's head-quarter, I rather understand, is on the right
wing; probably in Kunersdorf itself, or beyond that Village; there, at
least, our highly important Russian right wing is; there, elaborately
fortified; and, half a mile farther, ends,--on the edge of steep dells;
the Russian brink of which is strongly fringed with cannon, while
beyond, on the farther brink, they have built an abatis; so making
assurance doubly sure. Looking to the northward all these 90,000; their
left rather southward of Frankfurt Bridge, over which Friedrich will
probably arrive. Leftward, somewhat to rearward, they have bridges of
their own; should anything sinister befall; three bridges which lead
into that Oder Island, and the Russian Wagenburg there.
August 10th, Finck, punctual to time, arrives in the neighborhood of
Reitwein (which is some ten miles down stream from Lebus, from Frankfurt
perhaps fifteen); Friedrich, the same day, is there before him; eager
to complete the Bridges, and get to business. One Bridge is of pontoons;
one of "Oder-boats floated up from Custrin." Bridges are not begun till
nightfall, lest eyes be abroad; are ready in the minimum of time. And
so, during the same night of the 10th, all the Infantry, with their
artilleries and battle-furnitures, pour over in two columns; the
Cavalry, at the due point of time, riding by a ford short way to the
right. And at four, in the gray of the August morning (Saturday, 11th
August, 1759), all persons and things find themselves correctly across;
ranked there, in those barren, much-indented "Pasture-grounds of Goritz"
or of OEtscher; intending towards Kunersdorf; ready for unfolding into
order of battle there. They leave their heavy baggage at Goritz, Wunsch
to guard the Bridges and it; and, in succinct condition, are all under
way. At one in the afternoon we are got to Leissow and Bischofsee;
scrubby hamlets (as the rest all are), not above two miles from
Kunersdorf. The August day is windless, shiny, sultry; man and horse are
weary with the labors, and with the want of sleep: we decide to bivouac
here, and rest on the scrubby surface, heather or whatever it is, till
to-morrow.
Finck is Vanguard, ahead short way, and with his left on a bit of lake
or bog; the Army is in two lines, with its right on Leissow, and has
Cavalry in the kind of wood which there is to rear. Friedrich, having
settled the positions, rides out reconnoitring; hither, thither,
over the Heights of Trettin. "The day being still hot, he suffers
considerably from thirst [it is our one Anecdote] in that arid tract: at
last a Peasant does bring him, direct from the fountain, a jug of pure
cold water; whom, lucky man, the King rewarded with a thaler; and not
only so, but, the man being intelligent of the localities, took with him
to answer questions." Readers too may desire to gain some knowledge of
the important ground now under survey.
"Frankfurt, a very ancient Town, not a very beautiful," says my Note,
"stands on an alluvium which has been ground down from certain clay
Hills on the left bank of Oder. It counted about 12,000 inhabitants in
Friedrich's time; has now perhaps about 20,000; not half the bulk of
its namesake on the Mayn; but with Three great Fairs annually, and much
trade of the rough kind. On this left or west bank of Oder the country
is arable, moderately grassy and umbrageous, the prospect round you
not unpleasant; but eastward, over the River, nothing can be more in
contrast. Oder is of swift current, of turbid color, as it rolls under
Frankfurt Bridge,--Wooden Bridge, with Dam Suburb at the end;--a River
treeless, desolate, as you look up and down; which has, evidently,
often changed its course, since grinding down that alluvium as site for
Frankfurt; and which, though now holding mainly to northward, is still
given to be erratic, and destructive on the eastern low grounds,--had
not the Frankfurters built an 'Oder-Dam' on that side; a broad strong
Earth-mound, running for many miles, and confining its floods. Beyond
the Dam there are traces of an 'Old Oder (ALTE ODER);' and, in fact,
Oder, in primeval and in recent time, has gone along, many-streamed;
indenting, quarrying, leaving lakelets, quagmires, miscellaneous sandy
tumult, at a great rate, on that eastern shore. Making of it one of
the unloveliest scenes of chaotic desolation anywhere to be met
with;--fallen unlovelier than ever in our own more recent times.
"What we call the Heights of Kunersdorf is a broad Chain of Knolls;
coming out, at right-angles, or as a kind of spur, from the eastern high
grounds; direct towards Oder and Frankfurt. Mill-Hill (MUHLBERG) is
the root or easternmost part of this spur. From the Muhlberg, over
Kunersdorf, to Oder-Dam, which is the whole length of the spur, or Chain
of Knolls, will be little short of four miles; the breadth of the Chain
is nowhere one mile,--which is its grand defect as a Camp: 'too narrow
for manoeuvring in.' Here, atop and on the three sides of this Block
of Knolls, was fought the furious Battle of Kunersdorf [to be fought
to-morrow], one of the most furious ever known. A Block of Knolls
memorable ever since.
"To all appearance: it was once some big Island or chain of Islands
in the Oder deluges: it is still cut with sudden hollows,--KUHGRUND
(Cow-Hollow), TIEFE WEG (Deep Way), and westernmost of all, and
most important for us here, HOHLE GRUND (Big Hollow, let us call it;
'LOUDON'S Hollow' people subsequently called it);--and is everywhere
strangely tumbled up into knolls blunt or sharp, the work of primeval
Oder in his rages. In its highest knolls,--of which let readers note
specially the Spitzberg, the Muhlberg, the Judenberg,--it rises nowhere
to 150 feet; perhaps the general height of it may be about 100. On each
side of it, especially on the north, the Country is of most intricate
character: bushy, scraggy, with brooklets or muddy oozings wandering
about, especially with a thing called the HUNERFLIESS (Hen-Floss), which
springs in the eastern woods, and has inconceivable difficulty to
get into Oder,--if it get at all! This was a sore Floss to Friedrich
to-morrow. Hen-Floss struggles, painfully meandering and oozing, along
the northern side (sometimes close, sometimes not) of our Chain of
Knolls: along the south side of it (in our time, through the middle
of it) goes the Highway to Reppen ["From that Highway will his attack
come!" thought the Russians, always till to-day]: on the north, to
Leissow, to Trettin," where Friedrich is now on survey, "go various
wheel-tracks, but no firm road. A most intricate unlovely Country.
Withered bent-grasses, heath, perhaps gorse, and on both sides a great
deal of straggling Forest-wood, reaching eastward, and especially
southward, for many miles.
"For the rest," to our ill-luck in this place, "the Battlefield of
Kunersdorf has had a peculiar fate in the world; that of being blown
away by the winds! The then scene of things exists no longer; the
descriptions in the Old Books are gone hopelessly irrecognizable. In our
time, there is not anywhere a tract more purely of tumbled sand, than
all this between Kunersdorf and Dam Vorstadt; and you judge, without aid
of record or tradition, that it is greatly altered for the worse since
Friedrich's time,--some rabbit-colony, or other the like insignificancy,
eating out the roots, till all vegetation died, and the wind got hold
and set it dancing;--and that, in 1759, when Russian human beings
took it for a Camp, it must have been at least coherent, more or less;
covered, held together by some film of scrubby vegetation; not blowing
about in every wind as now! Kunersdorf stands with its northern end
pushed into that KUHGRUND (Cow-Hollow); which must then have been a
grassy place. Eastward of Kunersdorf the ground has still some skin of
peat, and sticks together: but westward, all that three miles, it is a
mere tumult of sand-hills, tumbled about in every direction (so diligent
have the conies been, and then the winds); no gullet, or definite cut or
hollow, now traceable anywhere, but only an endless imbroglio of twisted
sand-heaps and sand-hollows, which continually alter in the wind-storms.
Sand wholly, and--except the strong paved Highway that now runs through
it (to Reppen, Meseritz and the Polish Frontier, and is strongly paved
till it get through Kunersdorf)--chaotic wholly; a scene of heaped
barrenness and horror, not to be matched but in Sahara; the features of
the Battle quite blown away, and indecipherable in our time.
"A hundred years ago, it would have some tattered skin,--of peat, of
heather and dwarf whins, with the sand cropping out only here and there.
So one has to figure it in Soltikof's day,--before the conies ruined
it. Which was not till within the last sixty years, as appears. Kriele's
Book (in 1801) still gives no hint of change: the KUHGRUND, which now
has nothing but dry sand for the most industrious ruminant, is still a
place of succulence and herbage in Kriele's time; 'Deep Way,' where 'at
one point two carts could not pass,' was not yet blown out of existence,
but has still 'a Well in it' for Kriele; HOHLE GRUND (since called
Loudon's Hollow), with the Jew Hill and Jew Churchyard beyond, seem
tolerable enough places to Kriele. Probably not unlike what the
surrounding Country still is. A Country of poor villages, and of wild
ground, flat generally, and but tolerably green; with lakelets, bushes,
scrubs, and intricate meandering little runlets and oozelets; and in
general with more of Forest so called than now is:--this is Kunersdorf
Chain of Knolls; Soltikof's Intrenched Camp at present; destined to
become very famous in the world, after lying so long obscure under Oder
and its rages." [TOURIST'S NOTE (Autumnn, 1852).]
From the Knolls of Trettin, that Saturday afternoon, Friedrich takes
view of the Russian Camp. All lying bright enough there; from Muhlberg
to Judenberg, convenient to our glass; between us and the evening Sun.
Batteries most abundant, difficulties great: Soltikof just ahead here,
72,000: Loudon at the Red Grange yonder, on their extreme left, with
18,000 more. An uncommonly strong position for 90,000 against 50,000.
One thing strikes Friedrich: On front in this northern side, close by
the base of the Russian Camp, runs--for the present away FROM Oder, but
intending to join it elsewhere--a paltry little Brook, "Hen-Floss" so
called, with at least two successive Mills on it (KLEINE MUHLE, GROSSE
MUHLE); and on the northern shore of it, spilling itself out into a
wet waste called ELSBRUCH (Alder Waste), which is especially notable
to Friedrich. ALDER Waste? Watery, scrubby; no passage there, thinks
Friedrich; which his Peasant with the water-jug confirms. "Tell me,
however," inquires Friedrich, with strictness, "From the Red Grange
yonder, where General Loudon is, if you wished to get over to the HOHLE
GRUND, or to the Judenberg, would you cross that Hen-Floss?" "It is not
crossable, your Majesty; one has to go round quite westward by the
Dam." "What, from Rothe Vorwerk to Big Hollow, no passage, say you; no
crossing?" "None, your Majesty," insists the Peasant;--who is not aware
that the Russians have made one of firm trestles and logs, and use it
daily for highway there; an error of some interest to Friedrich within
the next twenty-four hours!
Friedrich himself does not know this bit of ground: but there is with
him, besides the Peasant, a Major Linden, whose Regiment used to lie in
Frankfurt, of whom Friedrich makes minute questioning. Linden answers
confidently; has been over all this tract a hundred times; "but knows
it only as a hunter," says Tempelhof, [Tempelhof, iii. 186.] "not as a
soldier," which he ought to have done. His answers are supposed to
have misled Friedrich on various points, and done him essential damage.
Friedrich's view of the case, that evening, is by no means so despondent
as might be imagined: he regards the thing as difficult, not as
impossible,--and one of his anxieties is, that he be not balked of
trying it straightway. Retiring to his hut in Bischofsee, he makes two
Dispositions, of admirable clearness, brevity, and calculated for two
contingencies: [Given in Tempelhof, iii. 182, 183.] That of the
enemy retaining his now posture; and That of the enemy making off for
Reppen;--which latter does not at all concern us, as matters turned! Of
the former the course will unfold itself to us, in practice, shortly. At
2 A.M. Friedrich will be on foot again, at 3 on march again.--The last
phenomenon, at Bischofsee this night, is some sudden glare of disastrous
light rising over the woods:--"Russians burning Kunersdorf!" as
neighbors are sorry to hear. That is the finale of much Russian
rearranging and tumbling, this day; that barbarous burning of
Kunersdorf, before going to bed. To-morrow various other poor Villages
got burnt by them, which they had better have left standing.
The Russians, on hearing that Friedrich was across at Goritz, and coming
on them from the north side, not from Frankfurt by the Reppen Highway,
were in great agitation. Not thrown into terror, but into manifold
haste, knowing what hasty adversary there was. Endless readjustments
they have to make; a day of tumultuous business with the Russians, this
Saturday, 11th, when the news reached them. "They inverted their front
[say all the Books but Friedrich's own]: Not coming by the Reppen
Highway, then!" think they. And thereupon changed rear to front, as at
Zorndorf, but more elaborately;--which I should not mention, were it
not that hereby their late "right wing on the Muhlberg" has, in strict
speech, become their "left," and there is ambiguity and discrepancy in
some of the Books, should any poor reader take to studying them on this
matter. Changed their front; which involves much interior changing;
readjusting of batteries and the like. That of burning Kunersdorf was
the barbaric winding up of all this: barbaric, and, in the military
sense, absurd; poor Kunersdorf could have been burnt at any moment,
if needful; and to the Russians the keeping of it standing was the
profitable thing, as an impediment to Friedrich in his advance there.
They have laid it flat and permeable; ashes all of it,--except the
Church only, which is of stone; not so combustible, and may have uses
withal. Has perhaps served as temporary lock-up, prison for the night,
to some of those Frankfurt Deputations and their troublesome wailings;
and may serve as temporary hospital to-morrow, who knows?
Readjustments in the Russian Camp were manifold: but these are as
nothing, in the tumultuous business of the day. Carting of their
baggage, every article of value, to that safe Wagenburg in the River;
driving of cattle,--the very driving of cattle through Frankfurt,
endless herds of them, gathered by the Cossacks from far and wide,
"lasted for four-and-twenty hours." Oxen in Frankfurt that day were
at the rate of ten shillings per head. Often enough you were offered a
full-grown young steer for a loaf of bread; nay the Cossacks, when there
was absolutely no bidder, would slaughter down the animal, leave its
carcass in the streets, and sell the hide for a TYMPF,--fivepence (very
bad silver at present). Never before or since was seen in Frankfurt such
a Saturday, for bellowing and braying, and raging and tumulting, all
through the day and through the night; ushering in such a Sunday too!
Sunday about 3 in the morning, Friedrich is on march again,--Russians
still in their place; and Disposition FIRST, not SECOND at all, to be
our rule of action! Friedrich, in Two Columns, marches off, eastward
through the woods, as if for Reppen quite away from the Russians and
their Muhlberg; but intending to circle round at the due point, and come
down upon their right flank there (left flank, as he persists to call
it), out of the woods, and clasp it in his arms in an impressive,
unexpected way. In Two Columns; which are meant, as usual, to be the Two
Lines of Battle: Seidlitz, with chosen Cavalry, is at the head of
Column First, and will be Left Wing, were we on the ground; Eugen of
Wurtemberg, closing the rear of Column First, will, he, or Finck and he
together, be Right Wing. That is the order of march;--order of BATTLE,
we shall find, had to alter itself somewhat, for reasons extremely
valid!
Finck with his 12,000 is to keep his present ground; to have two good
batteries got ready, each on its knoll ahead, which shall wait silent
in the interim: Finck to ride out reconnoitring, with many General
Officers, and to make motions and ostentations; in a word, to persuade
the Russians that here is the Main Army coming on from the north. All
which Finck does; avoiding, as his orders were, any firing, or serious
commencement of business, till the King reappear out of the woods. The
Russians give Finck and his General Officers a cannon salvo, here and
there, without effect, and get no answer. "The King does not see his
way, then, after all?" think the Russians. Their Cossacks go scouring
about; on the southern side, "burn Schwetig and Reipzig," without the
least advantage to themselves: most of the Cavalry, and a regiment or
two of excellent Austrian Grenadiers, are with Loudon, near the Red
Grange, in front of the Russian extreme left;--but will have stept over
into Big Hollow at a moment of crisis!
The King's march, through the Forest of Reppen, was nothing like so
expeditious as had been expected. There are thickets, intricacies,
runlets, boggy oozes; indifferent to one man well mounted, but vitally
important to 30,000 with heavy cannon to bring on. Boggy oozings
especially,--there is one dirty stream or floss (HUNERFLIESS, Hen-Floss)
which wanders dismally through those recesses, issuing from the far
south, with dirty daughters dismally wandering into it, and others that
cannot get into it (being of the lake kind): these, in their weary,
circling, recircling course towards Oder,--FAULE LAACKE (Foul Lake,
LITHER-MERE, as it were), Foul Bridge, Swine's Nook (SCHWEINEBUCKT), and
many others,--occasion endless difficulty. Whether Major Linden was shot
that day, or what became of him after, I do not know: but it was pity he
had not studied the ground with a soldier's eye instead of a hunter's!
Plumping suddenly, at last, upon Hen-Floss itself, Friedrich has to
turn angularly; angularly, which occasions great delay: the heavy cannon
(wall-guns brought from Custrin) have twelve horses each, and cannot
turn among the trees, but have to be unyoked, reyoked, turned round by
hand:--in short, it was eight in the morning before Friedrich arrived
at the edge of the wood, on the Klosterberg, Walckberg, and other woody
BERGS or knolls, within reach of Muhlberg, and behind the preliminary
abatis there (abatis which was rather of service to him than
otherwise);--and began privately building his batteries.
At eight o'clock he, with Column First, which is now becoming Line First
(CENTRE of Line First, if we reckon Finck as RIGHT-WING), is there;
busy in that manner: Column Second, which was to have been Rear Line, is
still a pretty way behind; and has many difficulties before it gets into
Kunersdorf neighborhood, or can (having wriggled itself into a kind of
LEFT-WING) co-operate on the Russian Position from the south side. On
the north side, Finck has been ready these five hours.--Friedrich speeds
the building of his batteries: "Silent, too; the Russians have not yet
noticed us!" By degrees the Russians do notice something; shoot out
Cossacks to reconnoitre. Cossacks in quantity; who are so insolent, and
venture so very near, our gunners on the north battery give them a blast
of satisfactory grape-shot; one and then another, four blasts in all,
satisfactory to the gunner mind,--till the King's self, with a look,
with a voice, came galloping: "Silence, will you!" The Russians took no
offence; still considering Finck to be the main thing and Friedrich some
scout party,--till at last,
Half-past eleven, everything being ready on the Walck Hill, Friedrich's
batteries opened there, in a sudden and volcanic way. Volcanically
answered by the Russians, as soon as possible; who have 72 guns on this
Muhlberg, and are nothing loath. Upon whom Finck's battery is opening
from the north, withal: Friedrich has 60 cannon hereabouts; on the
Walckberg, on the LITTLE Spitzberg (called SEIDLITZ HILL ever since);
all playing diligently on the head and south shoulder of this Muhlberg:
while Finck's battery opens on the north shoulder (could he but get near
enough). Volcanic to a degree all these; nor are the Russians wanting,
though they get more and more astonished: Tempelhof, who was in it, says
he never, except at Torgau next Year, heard a louder cannonade. Loud
exceedingly; and more or less appalling to the Russian imagination:
but not destructive in proportion; the distance being too
considerable,--"1,950 paces at the nearest," as Tempelhof has since
ascertained by measuring. Friedrich's two batteries, however, as they
took the Russians in the flank or by enfilade, did good execution.
"The Russian guns were ill-pointed; the Russian batteries wrong-built;
batteries so built as did not allow them sight of the Hollow they were
meant to defend." [Tempelhof, iii. 186, 187.]
After above half an hour of this, Friedrich orders storm of the
Muhlberg: Forward on it, with what of enfilading it has had! Eight
grenadier Battalions, a chosen vanguard appointed for the work (names of
Battalions all given, and deathless in the Prussian War-Annals), tramp
forth on this service: cross the abatis, which the Russian grenadoes
have mostly burnt; down into the Hollow. Steady as planets; "with
a precision and coherency," says Tempelhof, "which even on the
parade-ground would have deserved praises. Once well in the Hollow,
they suffer nothing; though the blind Russian fire, going all over their
heads, rages threefold:" suffered nothing in the Hollow; nor till they
reached almost the brow of the Muhlberg, and were within a hundred steps
of the Russian guns. These were the critical steps, these final ones;
such torrents of grape-shot and musket-shot and sheer death bursting
out, here at last, upon the Eight Battalions, as they come above ground.
Who advanced, unwavering, all the faster,--speed one's only safety. They
poured into the Russian gunners and musketry battalions one volley of
choicest quality, which had a shaking effect; then, with level bayonets,
plunge on the batteries: which are all empty before we can leap
into them; artillery-men, musketeer battalions, all on wing; general
whirlpool spreading. And so, in ten minutes, the Muhlberg and its guns
are ours. Ever since Zorndorf, an idea had got abroad, says Tempelhof,
that the Russians would die instead of yielding; but it proved far
otherwise here. Down as far as Kunersdorf, which may be about a mile
westward, the Russians are all in a whirl; at best hanging in tatters
and clumps, their Officers struggling against the flight; "mixed groups
you would see huddled together a hundred men deep." The Russian Left
Wing is beaten: had we our cannon up here, our cavalry up here, the
Russian Army were in a bad way!
This is a glorious beginning; completed, I think, as far almost as
Kunersdorf by one o'clock: and could the iron continue to be struck
while it is at white-heat as now, the result were as good as certain.
That was Friedrich's calculation: but circumstances which he had not
counted on, some which he could not count on, sadly retarded the matter.
His Left Wing (Rear Line, which should now have been Left Wing) from
southward, his Right Wing from northward, and Finck farther west,
were now on the instant to have simultaneously closed upon the beaten
Russians, and crushed them altogether. The Right Wing, conquerors of the
Muhlberg, are here: but neither Finck nor the Left can be simultaneous
with them. Finck and his artillery are much retarded with the Flosses
and poor single Bridges; and of the Left Wing there are only some
Vanguard Regiments capable of helping ("who drove out the Russians from
Kunersdorf Churchyard," as their first feat),--no Main Body yet for
a long while. Such impediments, such intricacies of bog and bush! The
entire Wing does at last get to the southeast of Kunersdorf, free of the
wood; but finds (contrary to Linden with his hunter eye) an intricate
meshwork of meres and straggling lakes, two of them in the burnt
Village itself; no passing of these except on narrow isthmuses, which
necessitate change of rank and re-change; and our Left Wing cannot, with
all its industry, "march up," that is, arrive at the enemy in fighting
line, without the painfulest delays.
And then the getting forward of our cannon! On the Muhlberg itself
the seventy-two Russian guns, "owing to difference of calibre," or
artillery-men know what, cannot be used by us: a few light guns,
Tempelhof to one of them, a poor four in all, with perhaps 100 shot to
each, did, by the King's order, hasten to the top of the Muhlberg; and
never did Tempelhof see a finer chance for artillery than there. Soft
sloping ground, with Russians simmering ahead of you, all the way
down to Kunersdorf, a mile long: by horizontal pointing, you had such
reboundings (RICOCHETS); and carried beautiful execution! Tempelhof soon
spent his hundred shots: but it was not at once that any of our sixty
heavy guns could be got up thither. Twelve horses to each: fancy it, and
what baffling delays here and elsewhere;--and how the Russian whirlpool
was settling more and more, in the interim! And had, in part, settled;
in part, got through to the rear, and been replaced by fresh troops!
Friedrich's activities, and suppressed and insuppressible impatiences
in this interval, are also conceivable, though not on record for us. The
swiftest of men; tied down, in this manner, with the blaze of perfect
victory ahead, were the moments NOT running out! Slower or faster, he
thinks (I suppose), the victory is his; and that he must possess his
soul till things do arrive. It was in one and more of those embargoed
intervals that he wrote to Berlin [Preuss, ii. 212 n.] (which is
waiting, as if for life or death, the issue of this scene, sixty miles
distant): "Russians beaten; rejoice with me!" Four successive couriers,
I believe, with messages to that effect; and at last a Fifth with
dolefully contrary news!--
In proportion as the cannon and other necessaries gradually got in, the
Fight flamed up from its embers more and more: and there ensued,--the
Russians being now ranked again (fronting eastward now) "in many lines,"
and very fierce,--a second still deadlier bout; Friedrich furiously
diligent on their front and right flank; Finck, from the Alder Waste,
battering and charging (uphill, and under difficulties from those
Flosses and single Bridges) on their left flank. This too, after long
deadly efforts on the Prussian part, ended again clearly in their
favor; their enemies broken a second time, and driven not only out of
Kunersdorf and the Kuhgrund, but some say almost to the foot of the
Judenberg,--what can only be very partially true. Broken portions of the
Russian left flank,--some of Finck's people, in their victorious wrath,
may have chased these very far: but it is certain the general Russian
mass rallied again a long way short of the Judenberg;--though, the
ground being all obliterated by the rabbits and the winds, nobody can
now know with exactitude where.
And indeed the Battle, from this point onwards, becomes blurred and
confused to us, only its grosser features visible henceforth. Where the
"Big Spitzberg" was (so terribly important soon), nobody can now
tell me, except from maps. London's motions too are obscure, though
important. I believe his grenadiers had not yet been in the fire; but am
certain they are now come out of Big Hollow; fresh for the rescue;
and have taken front rank in this Second Rally that is made. Loudon's
Cavalry Loudon himself has in hand, and waits with them in a fit place.
He has 18,000 fresh men; and an eye like few others on a field of war.
Loudon's 18,000 are fresh: of the Prussians that can by no means be
said. I should judge it must be 3 of the afternoon. The day is windless,
blazing; one of the hottest August days; and "nobody, for twelve hours
past, could command a drink of water:" very fresh the poor Prussians
cannot be! They have done two bouts of excellent fighting; tumbled the
Russians well back, stormed many batteries; and taken in all 180 cannon.
At this stage, it appears, Finck and many Generals, Seidlitz among the
others, were of opinion that, in present circumstances, with troops so
tired, and the enemy nearly certain to draw off, if permitted, here
had been enough for one day, and that there ought to be pause till
to-morrow. Friedrich knew well the need of rest; but Friedrich,
impatient of things half-done, especially of Russians half-beaten, would
not listen to this proposal; which was reckoned upon him as a grave and
tragic fault, all the rest of his life; though favorable judges, who
were on the ground, Tempelhof for one, [Tempelhof, iii. 194.] are
willing to prove that pausing here--at the point we had really got to, a
little beyond the Kuhgrund, namely; and not a couple of miles westward,
at the foot of the Jew Hill, where vague rumor puts us--was not feasible
or reasonable. Friedrich considers with himself, "Our left wing has
hardly yet been in fire!" calls out the entire left wing, foot
and horse: these are to emerge from their meshwork of Lakes about
Kunersdorf, and bear a hand along with us on the Russian front
here,--especially to sweep away that raging Battery they have on the Big
Spitzberg, and make us clear of it. The Big Spitzberg lies to south and
ahead of the Russian right as now ranked; fatally covers their right
flank, and half ruins the attack in front. Big Spitzberg is blown
irrecognizable in our time; but it was then an all-important thing.
The left-wing Infantry thread their lake-labyrinth, the soonest
possible; have to rank again on the hither side, under a tearing fire
from that Spitzberg; can then at last, and do, storm onwards, upwards;
but cannot, with their best efforts, take the Spitzberg: and have to
fall back under its floods of tearing case-shot, and retire out of
range. To Friedrich's blank disappointment: "Try it you, then, Seidlitz;
you saved us at Zorndorf!" Seidlitz, though it is an impossible problem
to storm batteries with horse, does charge in for the Russian flank,
in spite of its covering battery: but the torrents of grape-shot are
insufferable; the Seidlitz people, torn in gaps, recoil, whirl round,
and do not rank again till beyond the Lakes of Kunersdorf. Seidlitz
himself has got wounded, and has had to be carried away.
And, in brief, from this point onwards all goes aback with the Prussians
more and more. Repeated attempts on that Spitzberg battery prove
vain; to advance without it is impossible. Friedrich's exertions
are passionate, almost desperate; rallying, animating, new-ordering;
everywhere in the hottest of the fire. "Thrice he personally led on
the main attack." He has had two horses shot down under him; mounting
a third, this too gets a bullet in an artery of the neck, and is about
falling, when two Adjutants save the King. In his waistcoat-pocket some
small gold case (ETUI) has got smitten flat by a bullet, which would
otherwise have ended matters. The people about him remonstrate on such
exposure of a life beyond value; he answers curtly, "We must all of
us try every method here, to win the Battle: I, like every other, must
stand to my duty here!" These, and a second brief word or two farther
on, are all of articulate that we hear from him this day.
Friedrich's wearied battalions here on the Heights, while the Spitzberg
to left goes so ill, fight desperately; but cannot prevail farther; and
in spite of Friedrich's vehement rallyings and urgings, gradually lose
ground,--back at last to Kunersdorf and the Kuhgrund again. The Loudon
grenadiers, and exclaimed masses of fresh Russians, are not to be
broken, but advance and advance. Fancy the panting death-labors, and
spasmodic toilings and bafflings, of those poor Prussians and their
King! Nothing now succeeding; the death-agony now come; all hearts
growing hopeless; only one heart still seeing hope. The Spitzberg is
impossible; tried how often I know not. Finck, from the Alder Waste,
with his Infantry, attacks, and again attacks; without success: "Let the
Cavalry go round, then, and try there. Seidlitz we have not; you Eugen
of Wurtemberg lead them!" Eugen leads them (cuirassiers, or we will
forget what); round by the eastern end of the Muhlberg; then westward,
along the Alder Waste; finally southward, against the Russian flank,
himself foremost, and at the gallop for charging:--Eugen, "looking
round, finds his men all gone," and has to gallop the other way, gets
wounded to boot. Puttkammer, with Hussars, then tried it; Puttkammer was
shot dead, and his Hussars too could do nothing.
Back, slowly back, go the Prussians generally, nothing now succeeds with
them. Back to the Kuhgrund again; fairly over the steep brow there; the
Russians serrying their ranks atop, rearranging their many guns. There,
once more, rose frightful struggle; desperate attempt by the fordone
Prussians to retake that Height. "Lasted fifteen minutes, line to line
not fifty yards asunder;" such musketry,--our last cartridges withal.
Ardent Prussian parties trying to storm up; few ever getting to the top,
none ever standing there alive one minute. This was the death-agony of
the Battle. Loudon, waiting behind the Spitzberg, dashes forward now,
towards the Kuhgrund and our Left Flank. At sight of which a universal
feeling shivers through the Prussian heart, "Hope ended, then!"--and
their solid ranks rustle everywhere; and melt into one wild deluge,
ebbing from the place as fast as it can.
It is towards six o'clock; the sweltering Sun is now fallen low and
veiled; gray evening sinking over those wastes. "N'Y A-T-IL DONC PAS
UN BOUGRE DE BOULET QUI PUISSE M'ATTEINDREE (Is there no one b---- of a
ball that can reach me, then)?" exclaimed Friedrich in despair. Such a
day he had never thought to see. The pillar of the State, the Prussian
Army itself, gone to chaos in this manner. Friedrich still passionately
struggles, exhorts, commands, entreats even with tears, "Children, don't
forsake me, in this pinch (KINDER, VERLASSET HEUTE MICH, EUREN KONIG,
EUREN VATER, NICHT)!" [Kriele, p. 169.]--but all ears are deaf. On the
Muhlberg one regiment still stood by their guns, covering the retreat.
But the retreat is more and more a flight; "no Prussian Army was ever
seen in such a state." At the Bridges of that Hen-Floss, there was such
a crowding, all our guns got jammed; and had to be left, 165 of them of
various calibre, and the whole of the Russian 180 that were once in our
hands. Had the chase been vigorous, this Prussian Army had been heard
of no more. But beyond the Muhlberg, there was little or no pursuit;
through the wood the Army, all in chaos, but without molestation
otherwise, made for its Oder Bridges by the way it had come. [Tempelhof,
iii. 179-200; Retzow, ii. 80-115: in Seyfarth, _Beylagen,_ ii. 589-598,
_ Bericht von der am 12 August, 1759 bey Kunersdorf vorgefallenen
Schlacht_ (Official); and IB. 598-603, _Beschreibung der &c._ (by a
Private Hand): lucidly accurate both.]
Friedrich was among the last to quit the ground. He seemed stupefied
by the excess of his emotions; in no haste to go; uncertain whether
he would go at all. His adjutants were about him, and a small party
of Ziethen Hussars under Captain Prittwitz. Wild swarms of Cossacks
approached the place. "PRITTWITZ, ICH BIN VERLOREN (Prittwitz, I am
lost)!" remarked he. "NEIN, IHRO MAJESTAT!" answered Prittwitz with
enthusiasm; charged fiercely, he and his few, into the swarms of
Cossacks; cut them about, held them at bay, or sent them else-whither,
while the Adjutants seized Friedrich's bridle, and galloped off with
him. At OEtscher and the Bridges, Friedrich found of his late Army not
quite 3,000 men. Even Wunsch is not there till next morning. Wunsch
with his Party had, early in the afternoon, laid hold of Frankfurt,
as ordered; made the garrison prisoners, blocked the Oder Bridge; poor
Frankfurt tremulously thanking Heaven for him, and for such an omen. In
spite of their Wagenburg and these Pontoon-Bridges, it appears, there
would have been no retreat for the Russians except into Wunsch's cannon:
Wagenburg way, latish in the afternoon, there was such a scramble of
runaways and retreating baggage, all was jammed into impassability;
scarcely could a single man get through. In case of defeat, the
Russian Army would have had no chance but surrender or extermination.
[Tempelhof, iii. 194: in Retzow (ii. 110) is some dubious traditionary
stuff on the matter.] At dark, however, Wunsch had summons, so truculent
in style, he knew what it meant; and answering in words peremptorily,
"No" with a like emphasis, privately got ready again, and at midnight
disappeared. Got to Reitwein without accident.
Friedrich found at OEtscher nothing but huts full of poor wounded men,
and their miseries and surgeries;--he took shelter, himself, in a hut
"which had been plundered by Cossacks" (in the past days), but which had
fewer wounded than others, and could be furnished with some bundles of
dry straw. Kriele has a pretty Anecdote, with names and particulars, of
two poor Lieutenants, who were lying on the floor, as he entered this
hut. They had lain there for many hours; the Surgeons thinking them
desperate; which Friedrich did not. "ACH KINDER, Alas, children, you
are badly wounded, then?" "JA, your Majesty: but how goes the Battle?"
(Answer, evasive on this point): "Are you bandaged, though? Have you
been let blood?" "NEIN, EUER MAJESTAT, KEIN TEUFEL WILL UNS VERBINDEN
(Not a devil of them would bandage us)!" Upon which there is a Surgeon
instantly brought; reprimanded for neglect: "Desperate, say you? These
are young fellows; feel that hand, and that; no fever there: Nature
in such cases does wonders!" Upon which the leech had to perform his
function; and the poor young fellows were saved,--and did new fighting,
and got new wounds, and had Pensions when the War ended. [Kriele, pp.
169, 170; and in all the Anecdote-Books.] This appears to have been
Friedrich's first work in that hut at OEtscher. Here next is a Third
Autograph to Finkenstein, written in that hut, probably the first of
several Official things there:--
THE KING TO GRAF VAN FINKENSTEIN (at Berlin): Third Note.
OETSCHER, "12th August," 1759.
"I attacked the Enemy this morning about eleven; we beat him back to the
JUDENKIRCHHOF (Jew Churchyard,"--a mistake, but now of no moment), "near
Frankfurt. All my troops came into action, and have done wonders. I
reassembled them three times; at length, I was myself nearly taken
prisoner; and we had to quit the Field. My coat is riddled with bullets,
two horses were killed under me;--my misfortune is, that I am still
alive. Our loss is very considerable. Of an Army of 48,000 men, I have,
at this moment while I write, not more than 3,000 together; and am no
longer master of my forces. In Berlin you will do well to think of
your safety. It is a great calamity; and I will not survive it: the
consequences of this Battle will be worse than the Battle itself. I have
no resources more; and, to confess the truth, I hold all for lost. I
will not survive the destruction of my Country. Farewell forever
(ADIEU POUR JAMAIS).--F." [In orig. "CE 12," no other date (_OEuvres de
Frederic,_ xxv. 306).]
Another thing, of the same tragic character, is that of handing over
this Army to Finck's charge. Order there is to Finck of that tenor: and
along with it the following notable Autograph,--a Friedrich taking
leave both of Kingship and of life. The Autograph exists; but has no
date,--date of the Order would probably be still OETSCHER, 12th AUGUST;
date of the Autograph, REITWEIN (across the River), next day.
FRIEDRICH TO LIEUT.-GENERAL FINCK (at OEtscher or Reitwein).
"General Finck gets a difficult commission; the unlucky Army which
I give up to him is no longer in condition to make head against the
Russians. Haddick will now start for Berlin, perhaps Loudon too; if
General Finck go after these, the Russians will fall on his rear; if
he continue on the Oder, he gets Haddick on his flank (SO KRIGT ER DEN
HADEK DISS SEIT):--however, I believe, should Loudon go for Berlin, he
might attack Loudon, and try to beat him: this, if it succeeded, would
be a stand against misfortune, and hold matters up. Time gained is much,
in these desperate circumstances. The news from Torgau and Dresden,
Coper my Secretary (COPER MEIN SEGRETER," kind of lieutenant to Eichel
[See Preuss, i. 349, iii. 442.]) "will send him. You (ER) must inform my
Brother [Prince Henri] of everything; whom I have declared Generalissimo
of the Army. To repair this bad luck altogether is not possible: but
what my Brother shall command, must be done:--the Army swears to my
Nephew [King henceforth].
"This is all the advice, in these unhappy circumstances, I am in a
condition to give. Had I still had resources, I would have stayed by
them (SO WEHRE ICH DARBEI GEBLIEBEN).
"FRIEDRICH" [Exact Copy, two exact copies, in PREUSS (i. 450, and again,
ii. 215).]
All this done, the wearied Friedrich flung himself into his truss of dry
straw; and was seen sound asleep there, a single sentry at the door, by
some high Generals that ventured to look in. On the morrow he crossed to
Reitwein; by to-morrow night, there had 23,000 of his fugitives come in
to him;--but this is now to be Finck's affair, not his! That day, too
(for the Paper seems to be misdated), he signed, and despatched to
Schmettau, Commandant in Dresden, a Missive, which proved more fatal
than either of the others; and brought, or helped to bring, very bitter
fruits for him, before long:--
TO LIEUTENANT-GENERAL VON SCHMETTAU (at Dresden).
"REITWEIN, 14th [probably 13th] August, 1759.
"You will perhaps have heard of the Check [L'ECHEC, Kunersdorf to wit!]
I have met with from the Russian Army on the 13th [12th, if you have the
Almanac at hand] of this month. Though at bottom our affairs in regard
to the Enemy here are not desperate, I find I shall not now be able to
make any detachment for your assistance. Should the Austrians attempt
anything against Dresden, therefore, you will see if there are means
of maintaining yourself; failing which, it will behoove you to try and
obtain a favorable Capitulation,--to wit, Liberty to withdraw, with
the whole Garrison, Moneys, Magazines, Hospital and all that we have at
Dresden, either to Berlin or else-whither, so as to join some Corps of
my Troops.
"As a fit of illness [MALADIE, alas!] has come on me,--which I do not
think will have dangerous results,--I have for the present left the
command of my Troops to Lieutenant-General von Finck; whose Orders you
are to execute as if coming to you directly from myself. On this I
pray God to have you in his holy and worthy keeping.--F." [Preuss, ii.
_Urkundenbuch,_ p. 43.]
At Berlin, on this 13th,--with the Five Couriers coming in successively
(and not in the order of their despatch, but the fatal Fifth arriving
some time AHEAD of the Fourth, who still spoke of progress and
victory),--there was such a day as Sulzer (ACH MEIN LIEBER SULZER!)
had never seen in the world. "'Above 50,000 human beings on the Palace
Esplanade and streets about;' swaying hither and thither, in agony of
expectation, in alternate paroxysm of joy and of terror and woe; often
enough the opposite paroxysms simultaneous in the different groups, and
men crushed down in despair met by men leaping into the air for very
gladness:" Sulzer (whose sympathy is of very aesthetic type) "would
not, for any consideration, have missed such a scene." [_Briefe der
Schweitzer Bodmer, Sulzer, Gessner; aus Gleim's literarischen Nachlasse:
herausgegeben von Wilhelm Korte_ (Zurich, 1804), pp. 316-319.] The
"scene" is much obliged to you, MEIN LIEBER!--
Practically we find, in Rodenbeck, or straggling elsewhere, this Note:
"On the day after Kunersdorf, Queen and Court fly to Magdeburg: this is
their second flight. Their first was on Haddick's Visit, October, 1757;
but after Rossbach they soon returned, and Berlin and the Court were
then extremely gay: different gentlemen, French and others of every
Nation, fallen prisoners, made the Queen's soirees the finest in the
world for splendor and variety, at that time." [Rodenbeck, i. 390; &c.
&c.]
One other Note we save, for the sake of poor Major Kleist, "Poet of the
Spring," as he was then called. A valiant, punctual Soldier, and with a
turn for Literature as well; who wrote really pleasant fine things, new
at that time and rapturously welcome, though too much in the sentimental
vein for the times which have followed. Major Kleist,--there is a
General Kleist, a Colonel Kleist of the Green Hussars (called GRUNE
Kleist, a terrible cutting fellow):--this is not Grune Kleist; this
is the Poet of THE SPRING; whose fate at Kunersdorf made a tragic
impression in all intelligent circles of Teutschland. Here is Kriele's
Note (abridged):--
"Christian Ewald von Kleist, 'Poet of the Spring' [a Pommern gentleman,
now in his forty-fourth year], was of Finck's Division; had come on,
after those Eight Battalions took the first Russian battery [that is,
Muhlberg]; and had been assisting, with zeal, at the taking of three
other batteries, regardless of twelve contusions, which he gradually
got. At the third battery, he was farther badly hurt on the left arm and
the right. Took his Colonel's place nevertheless, whom he now saw fall;
led the regiment MUTHIG forward on the fourth battery. A case-shot
smashed his right leg to pieces; he fell from his horse [hour not given,
shall we say 3 P.M.]; sank, exclaiming: 'KINDER, My children, don't
forsake your King!' and fainted there. Was carried to rear and leftward;
laid down on some dry spot in the Elsbruch, not far from the Kuhgrund,
and a Surgeon brought. The Surgeon, while examining, was torn away by
case-shot: Kleist lay bleeding without help. A friend of his, Pfau [who
told Kriele], one of Finck's Generals, came riding that way: Kleist
called to him; asked how the Battle went; uncommonly glad to hear we are
still progressive. Pfau undertook, and tried his utmost, for a carriage
to Kleist; did send one of Finck's own carriages; but after such delays
that the Prussians were now yielding: poor Kleist's had become Russian
ground, and the carriage could not get in.
"Kleist lay helpless; no luck worse than his. In the evening, Cossacks
came round him; stript him stark-naked; threw him, face foremost, into
the nearest swampy place, and went their way. One of these devils had
something so absurd and Teniers-like in the face of him, that Kleist,
in his pains, could not help laughing at remembrance of it. In the
night some Russian Hussars, human and not Cossack, found Kleist in this
situation; took him to a dry place; put a cloak over him, kindled a
watch-fire for themselves, and gave him water and bread. Towards morning
they hastened away, throwing an 8-GROSCHEN STUCK [ninepenny piece,
shilling, say half-crown] on his cloak,--with human farewell. But
Cossacks again came; again stript him naked and bare. Towards noon of
the 13th, Kleist contrived to attract some Russian Cavalry troop passing
that way, and got speech of the Captain (one Fackelberg, a German);
who at once set about helping him;--and had him actually sent into
Frankfurt, in a carriage, that evening. To the House of a Professor
Nikolai; where was plenty of surgery and watchful affection. After near
thirty hours of such a lair, his wounds seemed still curable; there was
hope for ten days. In the tenth night (22d-23d August), the shivered
pieces of bone disunited themselves; cut an artery,--which, after
many trials, could not be tied. August 24th, at two in the morning,
he died.--Great sorrow. August 26th, there was soldier's funeral; poor
Kleist's coffin borne by twelve Russian grenadiers; very many Russian
Officers attending, who had come from the Camp for that end; one Russian
Staff-Officer of them unbuckling his own sword to lay on the bier, as
there was want of one. King Friedrich had Kleist's Portrait hung in the
Garnison Kirche. Freemason Lodge, in 1788, set up a monument to him,"
[Kriele, pp. 39-43.]--which still stands on the Frankfurt pavement, and
is now in sadly ruinous state.
The Prussian loss, in this Battle, was, besides all the cannon and
field-equipages: 6,000 killed, 13,000 wounded (of which latter, 2,000
badly, who fell to the Russians as prisoners); in all, about 19,000
men. Nor was the Russian loss much lighter; of Russians and Austrians
together, near 18,000, as Tempelhof counts: "which will not surprise
your Majesty," reports Soltikof to his Czarina; "who are aware that
the King of Prussia sells his defeats at a dear rate." And privately
Soltikof was heard to say, "Let me fight but another such Victory, and
I may go to Petersburg with the news of it myself, with the staff in my
hand." The joy at Petersburg, striving not to be braggart or immodest,
was solemn, steady and superlative: a great feat indeed for Russia, this
Victory over such a King,--though a kind of grudge, that it was due
to Loudon, dwelt, in spite of Loudon's politic silence on that point,
unpleasantly in the background. The chase they had shamefully neglected.
It is said, certain Russian Officers, who had charge of that business
stept into a peasant's cottage to consult on it; contrived somehow to
find tolerable liquor there; and sat drinking instead. [Preuss, ii.
217.]