With the first streak of dawn, the dispute renewed itself between those
Prussians and Saxons who are on the Heights of Striegau. The two Armies
are in contact here; they lie wide apart as yet at the other end.
Cannonading rises here, on both sides, in the dim gray of the morning,
for the possession of these Heights. The Saxons are out-cannonaded and
dislodged, other Saxons start to arms in support: the cry "To arms!"
spreads everywhere, rouses Weissenfels to horseback; and by sunrise a
furious storm of battle has begun, in this part. Hot and fierce on both
sides; charges of horse, shock after shock, bayonet-charges of foot; the
great guns going like Jove's thunder, and the continuous tearing storm
of small guns, very loud indeed: such a noise, as our poor Schoolmaster,
who lives on this spot, thinks he will hear only once again, when
the Last Trumpet sounds! It did indeed, he informs us, resemble the
dissolution of Nature: "For all fell dark too;" a general element
of sulphurous powder-smoke, streaked with dull blazes; and death
and destruction very nigh. What will become of poor pacific mortals
hereabouts? Rittmeister Seydlitz, Winterfeld his patron ride, with
knit brows, in these horse-charges; fiery Rothenburg too; Truchsess von
Waldburg, at the head of his Division,--poor Truchsess known in London
society, a cannon-ball smites the life out of him, and he ended here.
At the first clash of horse and foot, the Saxons fancied they rather
had it; at the second, their horse became distressed; at the third,
they rolled into disorderly heaps. The foot also, stubborn as they
were, could not stand that swift firing, followed by the bayonet and the
sabre; and were forced to give ground. The morning sun shone into their
eyes, too, they say; and there had risen a breath of easterly wind,
which hurled the smoke upon them, so that they could not see. Decidedly
staggering backwards; getting to be taken in flank and ruined, though
poor Weissenfels does his best. About five in the morning, Friedrich
came galloping hitherward; Valori with him: "MON AMI, this is looking
well! This will do, won't it?" The Saxons are fast sinking in the scale;
and did nothing thenceforth but sink ever faster; though they made a
stiff defence, fierce exasperation on both sides; and disputed every
inch. Their position, in these scraggy Woods and Villages, in these
Morasses and Carp-Husbandries, is very strong.
It had proved to be farther north, too, than was expected; so that the
Prussians had to wheel round a little (right wing as a centre, fighting
army as radius) before they could come parallel, and get to work: a
delicate manoeuvre, which they executed to Valori's admiration, here in
the storm of battle; tramp, tramp, velocity increasing from your centre
outwards, till at the end of the radius, the troops are at treble-quick,
fairly running forward, and the line straight all the while. Admirable
to Valori, in the hot whirlwind of battle here. For the great guns go,
in horrid salvos, unabated, and the crackling thunder of the small guns;
"terrible tussling about those Carp-ponds, that quaggy Carp-husbandry,"
says the Schoolmaster, "and the Heavens blotted out in sulphurous
fire-streaked smoke. What had become of us pacific? Some had run in
time, and they were the wisest; others had squatted, who could find a
nook suitable. Most of us had gathered into the Nursery-garden at
the foot of our Village; we sat quaking there,--our prayers grown
tremulously vocal;--in tears and wail, at least the women part. Enemies
made reconcilement with each other," says he, "and dear friends took
farewell." [His Narrative, in Lutzow, UBI SUPRA.] One general Alleleu;
the Last Day, to all appearance, having come. Friedrich, seeing things
in this good posture, gallops to the left again, where much urgently
requires attention from him.
On the Austrian side, Prince Karl, through his morning sleep at
Hausdorf, had heard the cannonading: "Saxons taking Striegau!" thinks
he; a pleasant lullaby enough; and continues to sleep and dream.
Agitated messengers rush in, at last; draw his curtains: "Prussians
all in rank, this side Striegau Water; Saxons beaten, or nearly so, at
Striegau: we must stand to arms, your Highness!"--"To arms, of course,"
answers Karl; and hurries now, what he can, to get everything in motion.
The bivouac itself had been in order of battle; but naturally there is
much to adjust, to put in trim; and the Austrians are not distinguished
for celerity of movement. All the worse for them just now.
On Friedrich's side, so far as I can gather, there have happened two
cross accidents. First, by that wheeling movement, done to Valori's
admiration in the Striegau quarter, the Prussian line has hitched itself
up towards Striegau, has got curved inward, and covers less ground than
was counted on; so that there is like to be some gap in the central
part of;--as in fact there was, in spite of Friedrich's efforts, and
hitchings of battalions and squadrons: an indisputable gap, though it
turned to rich profit for Friedrich; Prince Karl paying no attention to
it. Upon such indisputable gap a wakeful enemy might have done Friedrich
some perilous freak; but Karl was in his bed, as we say;--in a terrible
flurry, too, when out of bed. Nothing was done upon the gap; and
Friedrich had his unexpected profit by it before long.
The second accident is almost worse. Striegau Bridge (of planks, as
I feared), creaking under such a heavy stream of feet and wheels all
night, did at last break, in some degree, and needed to be mended; so
that the rearward regiments, who are to form Friedrich's left wing,
are in painful retard;--and are becoming frightfully necessary, the
Austrians as yet far outflanking us, capable of taking us in flank
with that right wing of theirs! The moment was agitating to a
General-in-chief: Valori will own this young King's bearing was perfect;
not the least flurry, though under such a strain. He has aides-de-camp,
dashing out every-whither with orders, with expedients; Prince Henri,
his younger Brother: galloping the fastest; nay, at last, he begs Valori
himself to gallop, with orders to a certain General Gessler, in whose
Brigade are Dragoons. Which Valori does,--happily without effect on
Gessler; who knows no Valori for an aide-de-camp, and keeps the ground
appointed him; rearward of that gap we talked of.
Happily the Austrian right wing is in no haste to charge. Happily
Ziethen, blocked by that incumbrance of the Bridge mending, "finds a
ford higher up," the assiduous Ziethen; splashes across, other regiments
following; forms in line well leftward; and instead of waiting for the
Austrian charge, charges home upon them, fiercely through the difficult
grounds, No danger of the Austrians outflanking us now; they are
themselves likely to get hard measure on their flank. By the ford and
by the Bridge, all regiments, some of them at treble-quick, get to their
posts still in time. Accident second has passed without damage.
Forward, then; rapid, steady; and reserve your fire till within fifty
paces!--Prinoe Ferdinand of Brunswick (Friedrich's Brother-in-law, a
bright-eyed steady young man, of great heart for fight) tramps forth
with his Division:--steady!--all manner of Divisions tramp forth; and
the hot storm, Ziethen and cavalry dashing upon that right wing of
theirs, kindles here also far and wide.
The Austrian cavalry on this wing and elsewhere, it is clear, were
ill off. "We could not charge the Prussian left wing, say they, partly
because of the morasses that lay between us; and partly [which is
remarkable] because they rushed across and charged us." [Austrian
report, _Helden-Geschichte,_ i. 1113.] Prince Karl is sorry to report
such things of his cavalry; but their behavior was bad and not good.
The first shock threw them wavering; the second,--nothing would persuade
them to dash forth and meet it. High officers commanded, obtested, drew
out pistols, Prince Karl himself shot a fugitive or two,--it was to no
purpose; they wavered worse at every new shock; and at length a shock
came (sixth it was, as the reporter counts) which shook them all into
the wind. Decidedly shy of the Prussians with their new manoeuvres, and
terrible way of coming on, as if sure of beating. In the Saxon quarter,
certain Austrian regiments of horse would not charge at all; merely kept
firing from their carbines, and when the time came ran.
As for the Saxons, they have been beaten these two hours; that is to
say, hopeless these two hours, and getting beaten worse and worse. The
Saxons cannot stand, but neither generally will they run; they dispute
every ditch, morass and tuft of wood, especially every village. Wrecks
of the muddy desperate business last, hour after hour. "I gave my men a
little rest under the garden walls," says one Saxon Gentleman, "or they
would have died, in the heat and thirst and extreme fatigue: I would
have given 100 gulden [10 pounds Sterling] for a glass of water."
[ _Helden-Geschichte,_ ubi supra.] The Prussians push them on, bayonet
in back; inexorable, not to be resisted; slit off whole battalions of
them (prisoners now, and quarter given); take all their guns, or all
that are not sunk in the quagmires;--in fine, drive them, part into the
Mountains direct, part by circuit thither, down upon the rear of the
Austrian fight: through Hausdorf, Seifersdorf and other Mountain gorges,
where we hear no more of them, and shall say no more of them. A sore
stroke for poor old Weissenfels; the last public one he has to take, in
this world, for the poor man died before long. Nobody's blame, he says;
every Saxon man did well; only some Austrian horse-regiments, that we
had among us, were too shy. Adieu to poor old Weissenfels. Luck of war,
what else,--thereby is he in this pass.
And now new Prussian force, its Saxons being well abolished, is pressing
down upon Prince Karl's naked left flank. Yes;--Prince Karl too will
have to go. His cavalry is, for most part, shaken into ragged clouds;
infantry, steady enough men, cannot stand everything. "I have observed,"
says Friedrich, "if you step sharply up to an Austrian battalion [within
fifty paces or so], and pour in your fire well, in about a quarter of
an hour you see the ranks beginning to shake, and jumble towards
indistinctness;" [_Military Instructions._ ] a very hopeful symptom to
you!
It was at this moment that Lieutenant-General Gessler, under whom is the
Dragoon regiment Baireuth, who had kept his place in spite of Valori's
message, determined on a thing,--advised to it by General Schmettau
(younger Schmettau), who was near. Gessler, as we saw, stood in the rear
line, behind that gap (most likely one of several gaps, or wide spaces,
left too wide, as we explained); Gessler, noticing the jumbly condition
of those Austrian battalions, heaped now one upon another in this
part,--motions to the Prussian Infantry to make what farther room
is needful; then dashes through, in two columns (self and
the Dragoon-Colonel heading the one, French Chasot, who is
Lieutenant-Colonel, heading the other), sabre in hand, with
extraordinary impetus and fire, into the belly of these jumbly
Austrians; and slashes them to rags, "twenty battalions of them," in an
altogether unexampled manner. Takes "several thousand prisoners," and
such a haul of standards, kettle-drums and insignia of honor, as was
never got before at one charge. Sixty-seven standards by the tale, for
the regiment (by most All-Gracious Permission) wears, ever after, "67"
upon its cartridge-box, and is allowed to beat the grenadier
march; [Orlich, ii. 179 (173 n., 179 n., slightly wrong);
_Militair-Lexikon,_ ii. 9, iv. 465, 468. See Preuss, i. 212; _OEuvres de
Frederic;_ &c. &c.]--how many kettle-drums memory does not say.
Prince Karl beats retreat, about 8 in the morning; is through
Hohenfriedberg about 10 (cannon covering there, and Nadasti as
rear-guard): back into the Mountains; a thoroughly well-beaten man.
Towards Bolkenhayn, the Saxons and he; their heavy artillery and baggage
had been left safe there. Not much pursued, and gradually rearranging
himself; with thoughts,--no want of thoughts! Came pouring down,
triumphantly invasive, yesterday; returns, on these terms, in about
fifteen hours. Not marching with displayed banners and field-music, this
time; this is a far other march. The mouse-trap had been left open, and
we rashly went in!--Prince Karl's loss, including that of the Saxons
(which is almost equal, though their number in the field was but HALF),
is 9,000 dead and wounded, 7,000 prisoners, 66 cannon, 73 flags and
standards; the Prussian is about 5,000 dead and wounded. [In Orlich (ii.
182) all the details.] Friedrich, at sight of Valori, embraces his GROS
VALORI; says, with a pious emotion in voice and look, "My friend, God
has helped me wonderfully this day!" Actually there was a kind of devout
feeling visible in him, thinks Valori: "A singular mixture, this
Prince, of good qualities and of bad; I never know which preponderates."
[Valori, SOEPIUS.] As is the way with fat Valoris, when they come into
such company.
Friedrich is blamed by some military men, and perhaps himself thought it
questionable, that he did not pursue Prince Karl more sharply. He says
his troops could not; they were worn out with the night's marching and
the day's fighting. He himself may well be worn out. I suppose, for the
last four-and-twenty hours he, of all the contemporary sons of Adam,
has probably been the busiest. Let us rest this day; rest till to-morrow
morning, and be thankful. "So decisive a defeat," writes he to his
Mother (hastily, misdating "6th" June for 4th), "has not been since
Blenheim" [Letter in _OEuvres de Frederic,_ xxvi. 71.] (which is
tolerably true); and "I have made the Princes sign their names," to give
the good Mother assurance of her children in these perils of war. Seldom
has such a deliverance come to a man.