(1712-1786)
[Illustration: Frederick the Great. [TN]]
How shall we describe the "Incomparable," the extraordinary compound
of so many brilliant and repulsive qualities? How is he to be
depicted, who was great as a king, and little as a man,--always
admired in his public, never beloved in his private, character;--a
just, generous, and laborious prince,--a vain, avaricious, and
cold-hearted individual; luxurious by temperament, temperate in
practice; a selfish epicurean, and affecting the harshness of the
cynic;--peacefully disposed, and cultivating the arts of peace, yet
exercising the arts of war in their direst form;--a man of letters,
ignorant of the beauties, and disdaining the language of his
country;--magnificent and mean; the builder of palaces, theatres,
libraries and museums, and dying, literally, without a whole shirt in
which he could be buried;--and, lastly, the most brilliant and
successful soldier of his time,--and almost destitute of the soldier's
first quality, personal courage?
Frederick, by general acclamation surnamed "The Great," was born on
January 24, 1712. His education was principally military; his very
toys were miniature implements of war suited to his age; and no sooner
was he able to handle a musket than he was sent to drill, and forced,
like all the Prussian officers of the period, to perform the duties
and submit to the privations of a private soldier,--obliged even to
stand sentinel before the palace in all the severities of a northern
winter. Though rather feeble of constitution, he soon became a
proficient in martial exercises. The different branches of science
bearing on the art of war he was forced to study; but his leisure
hours were devoted to reading French verses, and playing on the
flute--pursuits that greatly displeased his royal father, who
frequently threw the books into the fire, and the flutes out of the
window.
Frederick William,--the original founder of the pipe-clay science of
tactics, and the stick-and-starvation system of organization,--the
first inventor of pauper armies, dressed in martial uniforms,--became
gradually estranged from his poetical son; and often declared that the
dandy, "_Der Stutzer_" as he styled him, "would ruin everything." He
consequently treated him with so much severity, that the young prince
attempted to escape, intending to fly to England. The tragical result
of the adventure is well known. Frederick was thrown into prison; and
his friend and adviser, Katt, beheaded under his window, while
soldiers held the prince's head toward the scaffold on which the deed
of death was acting. What impression this dreadful scene made on his
mind is not known; but it ought to have been a deep and a lasting one.
It was the king's wish to follow up this execution by the trial of his
own son; but the remonstrances of the cabinet of Vienna, of his own
council, and, above all, of the upright and honest chaplain, Dr.
Reinbeck, reluctantly induced him to forego the intention. It is not
probable that he actually intended to put the prince to death, but
only to force him to resign his right to the throne in favor of his
second brother, William; a proposal to which Frederick constantly
refused to assent.
But though not tried, Frederick was severely punished, for he was
confined to the fortress of Kuestrin, where he was obliged to perform
the duties of a commissary of finance, and write the reports, and make
out the returns with his own hand. All this was, no doubt, of
advantage to the future sovereign. On condition of marrying the
Princess Elizabeth of Brunswick-Bevern, he was, at the end of eighteen
months, released from confinement, and allowed to reside in the small
town of Rheinsberg, where he resumed his flute and his French poets,
to which the study of French philosophers and French translations from
the classics was added. It was during his stay at Rheinsberg that his
correspondence with foreign men of letters commenced; and it was here
also that, with a party of friends, he formed an order of chivalry
termed the "Order of Bayard," the motto of the knights being, "Without
fear, and without reproach." But these were vain attempts at
knighthood, for there was nothing chivalrous in the character of
Frederick.
Two short journeys performed with his father, and a visit to the army
which Prince Eugene commanded on the Rhine in 1734, formed the only
interruption to the tranquil and philosophical life of Rheinsberg.
The first appearance in the field of the army bequeathed by Frederick
William to his son, forms an era in modern history; for a belief in
its efficiency was the mainspring that urged on the young king to
attack the Austrians; and its excellence became the lever with which
he ultimately raised his poor and secondary kingdom to the rank of a
first-rate European power. The history of the rise and formation of
this army, though a very curious one, would necessarily exceed our
limits; but no one will be able to write the life of Frederick, and do
full justice to the subject, without giving the reader a proper idea
of the nature and origin of the engine which helped so mainly to
render him great and famous. He had, no doubt, other claims to
greatness besides those which his military actions conferred upon
him; but it was the splendor of these actions that brought his other
merits to light; and little enough would have been heard of the
"Philosopher of Sans-Souci," had not the victor of so many fields made
him known to the world.
Frederick, while crown-prince, had not shown any great predilection
for military affairs; he was rather pacifically disposed; was even a
little taken with the philosophy of Wolf; and greatly captivated by
French literature, and by French poetry in particular. It is probable,
therefore, that the high opinion generally entertained of the
newly-formed army, and the favorable opportunity that fortune offered
on his accession to the throne, were the spurs "that pricked him on"
to the field.
The Emperor Charles VI., the last male descendant of the house of
Hapsburg, died in October, 1741, leaving his daughter, Maria Theresa,
to retain, if possible, his extensive dominions against the various
claimants who had not acknowledged the Pragmatic Sanction: an act by
which the emperor had bequeathed to her all the possessions of his
house. Frederick William had not acknowledged this deed, so that
Frederick was not bound by it; and having some well-grounded claims on
the duchies of Silesia, prepared to make them good--by force of arms,
if necessary--the moment the emperor died. The desire "to be spoken
of" was, as he himself confesses, one of his principal motives for
action on this occasion.
The young king resolved to lead the army he had inherited, personally
into the field; and as the Austrians were totally unprepared for the
visit, the principalities were occupied without resistance. It was not
till April 10, 1741, that an Austrian force, under General Neipperg,
came to give him the meeting; and there was but little wanting to have
rendered the battle of Molwitz, the first of Frederick's fields, the
last also. The ground was covered with snow. Both parties were of
about equal strength, and took up their ground, as the king himself
tells us, in a manner alike unskilful; but, on the part of the
tactician, this very want of skill tended to gain the battle; for
three battalions of the first line, not finding room to form up, were
thrown back _en potence_ on the extremity of the right wing, and, as
we shall see, repulsed the Austrian cavalry by their fire at the most
critical moment of the battle. The Austrians had been very merry at
the expense of the Prussian system of tactics, and had promised to
beat the pipe-clay out of their jackets at the first meeting; and now
the words of scorn were to be made good.
After the usual salutation of artillery, the Imperial cavalry,
practised in the Turkish wars, fell at full gallop upon the Prussian
cavalry of the right wing, and overthrew them in an instant; for, like
the infantry, they had been taught only to fire. Following up their
success, the Austrian horsemen dashed at the flank of the Prussian
infantry; but here the three battalions already mentioned as thrown
back _en potence_, presented a steady front, and by their rapid fire
repulsed the assailants, who, having their commander killed, seeing
the despised and pipe-clayed warriors standing immovably in their
ranks, from which a fire of never-heard rapidity was pouring out in
all directions, soon dispersed, leaving their comrades of the
infantry to try their fortune against these well-drilled foes. The
infantry were not more fortunate than the cavalry. The Prussians stood
firm as rocks, and fired three shots to their one; and as both were
equally unskilful in the use of arms, the quantity of shots fired
naturally decided the day. After a combat of several hours, the
Austrians retired from the field, leaving the victory and
battle-ground in the hands of the Prussians.
But where was he, the chieftain of that gallant host, the claimant of
dukedoms and principalities, the victor for whose brows a splendid
wreath of laurel had been so nobly gained by the blood of the brave?
Will blushing glory hide the tale of shame? Alas, no!--vain were the
courtly attempts made to conceal the truth, and history is forced to
confess that "Frederick the Great from Molwitz deigned to run." In the
scene of death, tumult, and confusion, which followed on the overthrow
of the Prussian cavalry, the king completely lost his presence of
mind, and fled as far as Oppeln, where the Austrian garrison,
unfortunately for their cause, received him with a fire of musketry,
that made him take another direction. He passed the night in great
anxiety at a small country inn twenty miles from the field. On the
following morning an aide-de-camp of the Prince of Dessau brought the
fugitive king back to his victorious army. "Oh, Frederick," says
Berenhorst, "who could then have foretold the glory thou wert destined
to acquire and to merit as well as any conqueror and gainer of battles
ever did?"
The war of the Austrian Succession having been now kindled, and Maria
Theresa been attacked on all the points of her extensive dominions,
Frederick made peace, left his allies to shift for themselves, and,
having obtained the principalities of Silesia, retired from the
contest. That he made good use of the time and additional sources of
strength gained, it is needless to say.
The splendid success of the Austrian arms against France, the rapid
preponderance that Maria Theresa was acquiring, alarmed him, however,
for his late conquests; and he determined again to take the field
before the strength of the house of Austria should outgrow his power
to repress it. Voltaire negotiated for France on this occasion, and
represented the danger with rather more than diplomatic ability. On
both sides the protocols were as often written in verse as in prose;
and Frederick, who hated George II., having told the poet, "Let France
declare war against England, and I march," the latter instantly set
out for Versailles, and thus gave the signal for the second Silesian
War. This was in 1744. The Prussian troops were again victorious in
battle, but the general result was not so much in their favor. The
king, after taking Prague, was forced to evacuate Bohemia and part of
Silesia; and though afterward brilliantly successful, particularly in
the fields of Hohenfriedberg, he did not hesitate to make a separate
peace the moment a fair opportunity offered. On taking the field, he
told the French ambassador, "I am going to play your game, and if the
trumps fall to my share, we'll go halves." The best part of the
promise was soon forgotten, and the French, Spaniards, and Bavarians
left, as before, to fight their own battle, the King of Prussia
having, in December, 1745, amicably concluded all his differences
with Saxony and Austria. The young and fortunate conqueror now
proceeded to improve and adorn his dominions; and it is almost
impossible to speak in too high terms of the great things he effected
with comparatively small means.
At this period of his life Frederick was singularly beloved and
admired by the new court and world with which he had surrounded
himself. His wit, fortune, and activity--a figure marked by
distinguished bearing, by beauty of a peculiar kind, even by dress and
apparel--a total of personal appearance that impressed itself
singularly on the eyes of the beholder, excited general enthusiasm.
Imitation is a proof and consequence of it; and many an orthodox
believer, who trembled in private, ridiculed religion in public,
because he had heard that the king was an atheist; and many a gallant
soldier, who hated the sight and smell of snuff, disfigured his nose
and lip with rappee, because such was the royal fashion. As a general,
he was looked upon as the first of his time. The feeble moment at
Molwitz had not become generally known; and the few who had witnessed
the unpleasant affair, were too loyal and well-disposed to call it
back to their recollection.
The king certainly did everything to deserve the favorable opinion
entertained of him. Arts, science, commerce, and agriculture were
encouraged; more than one hundred and thirty villages sprang up on
newly drained lands along the banks of the Oder; men of letters and
talents were brought to Berlin; theatres, operas, ballets, were
established; a sort of German Versailles arose amid the sands of
Brandenburg; and the "Garden House outside the gate," which was
Frederick William's summer residence and place of recreation, soon
sank down to the humble rank of a gardener's lodge to his son's
palace! The machinery of government was never carried on with such
perfect regularity. The king superintended the whole himself, and that
without any regular intercourse with his ministers, some of whom, it
is said, he never saw in his life. They furnished him every morning
with abridged statements of the business to be transacted, and he
wrote his order on the margin of the paper; the affairs of state were
all settled in a couple of hours. Literary compositions, in prose and
verse, military reviews, meals, and conversation, filled up the rest
of the day. "Frederick," says Voltaire, in his vile and mischievous
"Memoires," "governed without court, council, or religious
establishment" (_culte_). It was during this brilliant period of the
king's reign that the French poet passed some time at Berlin.
The Austrians, who had ridiculed the drilling and powdering, had paid
for their folly in many a bloody field, but had profited by the
lesson, and could now move as accurately and fire as quickly as their
neighbors. The first combat of the great Seven Years' War, which began
in 1756, already proved this to the conviction of all parties. The
Prussians purchased a slight advantage by a great loss of blood; and
on the very battle-field the general remark was, "These are no longer
the old Austrians." On the capture of the Saxon army, which
surrendered at Pirna, Frederick, who exacted such unlimited allegiance
from his subjects and soldiers, gave a strange proof of inconsistency,
and of that contempt with which he seemed to treat the feelings of
other men; for, without so much as asking their consent, he ordered
all the prisoners to be incorporated into the ranks of his army, and
expected to make loyal Prussians of them by merely changing their
uniforms. As was to be expected, they deserted immediately.
The progress of the war is out of our province. Spoiled by success,
Frederick, after gaining the dearly purchased victory of Prague,
attempted to reduce a city which he could not invest, and in which an
army was concentrated. The Austrians advanced with 60,000 men to raise
the siege; and the presumptuous king did not hesitate to rush upon
them with less than half the number of Prussians; a total defeat, the
first he had yet sustained, was the consequence. From this day it is
allowed that the Prussian infantry had no longer any superiority over
their enemies; henceforth the genius of their sovereign, the
confidence he inspired, and the dread entertained of him by his
adversaries, are the only advantages they have to depend upon. In the
second year of the war he writes to La Motte Fouque,--"Owing to the
great losses sustained, our infantry is very much degenerated from
what it formerly was, and must not be employed on difficult
undertakings." In the third year he says to the same,--"Care must be
taken not to render our people timid; they are too much so by nature
already."
Of this battle of Collin we must here report an anecdote
characteristic of what Frederick _then_ was. The left wing of the
Prussian army was obliquing in admirable order to the left, and
already gaining the right of the Austrians, according to the
prescribed disposition, when the king, at once losing patience in the
most unaccountable manner, sent directions to Prince Maurice of
Dessau, who commanded the infantry, ordering him to wheel up and
advance upon the enemy. The prince told the officer that the proposed
points had not yet been attained, and recommended that the oblique
march should still be continued. The king immediately came up in
person, and in haughty and overbearing style repeated the order, and,
when the Prince of Dessau attempted to explain, drew his sword, and in
a fiery and threatening tone exclaimed, "Will he (_er_) obey, and
immediately wheel up and advance?" The officers present were
terrified, fancying from his excited manner that he would be guilty of
some act of violence; but the prince, of course, bowed and obeyed,
and--the battle was soon lost.
Frederick, as an absolute king and commander, had, no doubt, many
advantages over the ill-combined coalition by which he was assailed;
but the mass of brute force was so great on the part of his
adversaries, that he was more than once on the very eve of being
crushed. At one time, indeed, he contemplated the commission of
suicide.
[Illustration: Frederick and the Austrians after Leuthen.]
The wonderful battles of Rossbach and Leuthen[1] reconciled him to
life. The former was not, as is well known, his work, as it was
almost gained before he well knew what was going on: it was due
principally to the indomitable bravery of Zeidlitz and the cavalry.
His conduct at Leuthen could not be surpassed; and his manner of
promoting General Prince Maurice of Dessau, who had most nobly aided
him in the battle, was highly characteristic. "I congratulate you on
the victory, _Field-marshal_," said Frederick, when they met on the
field. The prince was still so much occupied with what was going
forward, that he did not mark the exact words the king had used, till
the latter again called out, "Don't you hear, _Field-marshal_, that I
congratulate you on the victory gained?" when the newly promoted made
due acknowledgments in course. Frederick, in his great contest, was
assisted by an English, Hessian, and Hanoverian army, as well as by
English subsidies; but, making full allowance for the value of these
auxiliaries, it must still be admitted that great genius and courage
were required to enable a King of Prussia to resist the combined
forces of France, Austria, Russia, and Sweden. Frederick effected
this, and his conduct deservedly obtained for him the name of "Great."
[Footnote 1: It was the evening succeeding this battle of
Leuthen that Frederick, himself leading the advance after the
flying Austrians, entered the little town of Lissa, where a
body of the enemy, never dreaming the pursuit could reach so
far, were resting for the night. Frederick was as surprised
as they when, on entering a room of the principal inn, he
found it filled with Austrian officers. He had but a handful
of troops with him, and, had his enemies known it, was their
prisoner. But with the utmost coolness he saluted them,
"Good-evening, gentlemen. Is there still room for me, think
you?" Whereon the frightened Austrians, thinking themselves
surrounded by the whole Prussian army, decamped in wild
haste, and getting their troops together as they could, fled
from the dangerous neighborhood.]
During his first two wars, and till the period of the battle of
Rossbach in the third war, he always kept at a distance from the
scene, which may be allowed in a commander who has to overlook the
whole, and is not called upon to defend posts or lead attacks in
person. After the above period, however, and when he perceived that
the nature of the contest, and public opinion itself, demanded greater
exertions from him, he several times, on due deliberation, exposed
himself to the danger of an ordinary brigadier. Several occasions of
this kind might be specified. At the Battle of Kunersdorf, when
attempting to assemble some remnants of the infantry, who were still
holding their ground here and there, his horse was shot under him. At
Liegnitz, a spent ball struck him on the calf of the leg. At Torgau
again, when a newly advanced brigade began to give way, like all its
predecessors, he rode into the heaviest fire of musketry, and received
a shot on the breast, which penetrated his shirt, and for some moments
deprived him so completely of all power of breathing, that he was
believed to be dead.[2]
[Footnote 2: This battle of Torgau, Frederick planned to win
by a flank attack; but the flanking column was delayed in its
march, and at evening the king found himself everywhere
beaten back. His last chance of success against his many
opponents seemed lost: and he spent the night seated in the
church at Elsnig, in such mood as may be imagined. During the
night the flanking column at last arrived, fell on the enemy,
and crushed them. This was the last of Frederick's great
battles.]
Frederick outlived his last great war for twenty-three years, and died
in 1786, in the seventy-fourth year of his age. Every hour of this
last period of his life was assiduously occupied, almost to the hour
of his death, in zealous exertions to improve his country and
ameliorate the condition of his people. He certainly effected great
things, but left much that he might have achieved totally unattempted.
Living in the solitude which his dazzling fame had cast around him,
separated from all immediate intercourse with his species by the very
barrier his glory had interposed between him and other men, he acted
his part to admiration before the crowds who, from far and near, came
to behold him; but, blinded by the halo that encompassed him, he saw
little, and deemed less, perhaps, of mankind and their doings. In the
mass they may possibly not be deserving of high admiration, but
Frederick had never done them even justice; and in the latter years of
his life, he entirely lost sight of the direction they were taking; he
formed an ideal world to himself, and governed his country and
subjects accordingly. He was the admired wonder of the age; a
brilliant, if not spotless sun, that cast far aloft its vivid beams,
indeed, but remained stationary and concentrated within itself, while
all surrounding nature was in motion and in progress.