Frederick decided to take a powder—just as he had done at the Battle of Mollwitz in 1741. He retired to Wchnitz, leaving the field command to Keith. Momentum was slowly ebbing from Prussian hands, making it clear the bluecoats would not get their easy victory after all. In spite of this, the stubborn Austrians were finally pressed back upon Wehlhoten. Below, some of their comrades were retiring on Lobositz itself, the guns still booming and the foot soldiers shouting, shooting, and stabbing it out at close range.
War veteran Johann Archenholtz said the fighting was so intense for a time in clearing the Lobosch the forward Prussian troops ran out of cartridges. They then “struck at the … [enemy] party with the butts of their muskets.”45 Some of the officers detailed men to gather up any spare ammunition from the dead and wounded, who covered the stricken ground. All of this took precious time. Prussian efforts were redoubled, and they slowly forced back the enemy. The Austrians could not now hope to win the decision, as their lines were being driven in all along the front. The heavy Prussian guns raked them mercilessly and the weight of numbers in the immediate vicinity was telling. Worse, most of Frederick’s infantry were committed, including five full regiments from Keith’s command. In the process, the battle inexorably began to swing against the still resolute Browne.
At the front of the Prussians, Major von Oelsnitz (the king’s adjutant) was providing his own inspiration by descending from the heights on to the enemy.46 His actions encouraged the bluecoats to take the fight to the enemy. The effort against Lobositz intensified, though Browne made a serious attempt to stay the Prussian advance outside of the village and pressed up additional men to feed a counterattack by the Austrian left to do just that. The Austrian reinforcements were slowed by the necessity of marching through the village’s narrow streets. This only aggravated the shelling by the Prussian guns. Ferdinand had chosen a decisive moment to roll his mobile artillery, including the howitzers, into the area in front of Lobositz.
The hard-pressed front line troops thus could not benefit fully from the Austrian reinforcements, since a large number simply could not reach their assigned posts. The counterattack fizzled; one source suggests this last stroke was just to “draw away the enemy’s attention”47 anyway while Browne pulled back his exposed right flank. The bluecoats, cheered by the sight of the enemy’s retreat, bundled forward. Worse, from about 1300 hours, isolated fires broke out in Lobositz from the shelling, but they did not become unmanageable for a couple more hours. But this forced Browne to largely abandon the place, and, with it, the key to the battle.48
The Prussians pressed after the enemy, as some of the whitecoats fell back toward the “safe” side of the Morellen-Bach. Browne, never the kind to lose his head in an emergency situation, simply ordered forward the rest of the army. These new troops were hastily deployed to cover the withdrawal of their exhausted, fought-out comrades, interjecting between them and the surging bluecoats.
In this last effort, the Prussian force was composed of infantry alone (with the cavalry still trying to steady itself at the Homolka), led by the 21st Infantry of Hülsen. This particular unit was severely punished in the next few minutes. All told, it lost 277 officers and men in this final effort.49 Browne’s fresh men tried to hold off the enemy.
But the infuriated bluecoats, angered by the dogmatic determination of their foe, exacted a fierce revenge as they made their way through Lobositz. Those grisly final scenes of battle were enacted as quarter was neither asked for nor given on the Austrians left behind. Some threw themselves into the dark Elbe River to escape. Many drowned in the cold water.
About 1700 hours, Browne withdrew his army to Tschirakowitz. There he paused and pondered his next step. This ended the battle. The Prussians had won a hard-fought victory. Soon after the contest ended, Major Oelsnitz tracked down his master and informed him that Browne was retreating. Frederick could only ponder over this close-run affair with the Austrians. It was the first battle since Mollwitz he could have lost. Nevertheless, a council of war (a rarity for the Prussian king) was called at Wchnitz, in the shadow of the Homolka. The mildly disoriented king asked for recommendations from his generals over their next step. Some of the weak-kneed favored retreat, but young Ferdinand helped squelch such talk. The army would stay put.50 While the generals were huddling, an Austrian cannon shot exploded close-by, providing still more drama for this action-packed day.
While he occupied Lobositz, Frederick dispatched Bevern southward with a strong detachment (five battalions and 14 squadrons)51 to capture Tschirakowitz near the road to Budin. Here Browne had his magazines and army. The marshal had been debating whether to continue the march to the relief of the Saxons or fall back on Budin for the moment when word arrived of the enemy’s advance on Tschirakowitz. The proximity of the latter to his base made Browne believe the Prussian intention was to cut him off from Budin or even perhaps starve him out. Actually Bevern had no such plan. The threat alone, in the event, was sufficient.
Just about 0100 hours, October 2, Browne, having consolidated his territory, prepared to retire on Budin. Next morning, in full daylight, off the men marched. The Austrian move was not hurried, although Frederick shunned an active engagement. Browne simply reoccupied the lines he had held previously, while strengthening his hold on Leitmeritz. Later, Major-General Johann Sigismund Graf MacQuire von Innskillin was sent to check any Prussian designs on the latter. Both sides continued to cautiously maneuver.52
The losses of the two sides in the battle are reckoned to have been the following: the Prussians lost 2,906 killed or wounded53; the Austrians: 2,873 killed/wounded, three guns, and two battle flags.54 The Prussians were indeed the victors, but only in the last, heaviest hours of fighting was the battle decided.
The case could be made that the Austrians fought to a draw, although technically speaking, they had left the field of battle to Frederick. In that era, to own the battlefield after an action was tantamount to being the victor. Nevertheless, Browne’s men had been worthy opponents and the marshal himself a tough, solid leader.
The lessons were not lost on alert Prussians. Archenholtz freely admitted, “these [heroes of 1756] are no longer the same old Austrians.”55 At least one contemporary noted the Austrian army had used the long years of peace to “take for its own the methodology employed by the conquerors and to make itself over in their model.”56 It must have been patently obvious then, to the king and the Prussians, that they were in for a long war.
Chapter Three
The Saxon Surrender; The End of the Campaign
The news of the victory reached the Prussian lines around Pirna just as the next morning (October 2) broke, and the Prussian reaction was one of joy and anticipation. The Saxons did not receive the tremendous volleys of musketry, celebration, and rounds of cannon shot the bluecoats threw up quite so well. They knew this blunting of Browne’s relief force placed them in a more serious predicament. Time was definitely on Frederick’s side now.
Browne recuperated his army off his base at Budin, but his losses were serious enough to cause a delay in marching. Soon he received orders to go finish the rescue. His chief aim to fix Frederick’s eyes to the route from Prague as the possible path of rescue was successful, and messengers were able to slip into Struppen bearing the welcome news to Augustus that Browne would try again.
The new plan was to take a handpicked force of 8,800 men1 and move with this force around the Prussians through the country near Wegstadl, Dauba, on Böhm-Leipa, Kamnitz, through Georgethal, Schönlinde, finally on Litchenhayn. Here it would be only seven miles from the Königstein and with only weak Prussian outposts between it and the nearest Saxon lines. With a bit of pluck and fortune, the deed was possible yet, in spite of the setback at Lobositz.2 As a prearranged signal, two cannon shot were to be fired to let Browne know the Saxons were preparing to march.3
The task force was to attack the Prussian posts in front while the Saxons smashed in from behind. Once the Prussian lines were pierced here, all of
the Saxon troops who were still capable of marching were to be ready to move out with Browne, before the Prussian king could do anything about it. Frederick had by that point talked himself into believing the Austrians’ intentions were confined to controlling the Eger River area. He was basing this deduction on intelligence from some of the enemy’s deserters. Whether this was his chief source of information is unclear, and the king relying upon the questionable word of Austrian deserters betrays a little vulnerability at this pivotal point in the man’s military career.
The enemy’s objectives to rescue Augustus’ men were clear. The country the ailing Browne would be moving through was suffering from what amounted to seasonal rains. The Saxons were demoralized, and the Prussians were alert. The poor besieged men were weak from near starvation rations (thanks to Minister Brühl’s misdeeds), and most of the few remaining horses had been reduced to walking skeletons. The Saxons had plenty of military supplies, which had been stockpiled beforehand, but they lacked sufficient foodstuffs thanks to the blockade.4 Widespread discontent was the inevitable result of these deplorable conditions, while outside of the camp the Prussians were more determined than ever to force the trapped Saxons to submit.
Browne left General Luchessi in charge at Budin before his departure.5 On October 7, under the best secrecy possible, Browne’s task force left Budin. Patrols in the direction of Lobositz were stepped up. Luchessi pressed to Welwarn, to better guard against any Prussian countermeasures. Browne pushed out Hadik to screen him from Prussian interference, and moved on Skalka, Gruber, and Sandau. The Prussians had patrols out as well, probing for the enemy.
Meanwhile, on October 9, Browne hitched into Kamnitz, where he paused for an uncertain night. The roving force of Hadik, which had picked up MacGuire, rejoined the main force thereabouts. The movement had been hampered by the rocky condition of the ground, where the paths had not been reduced to quagmires, and only with the greatest efforts were any supply wagons brought forward at all.6 Most of the tent equipage was left behind, along with most of the supply wagons, to expedite the movement. Under the circumstances, haste would be required if there was any hope of successfully rescuing the Saxons from the clutches of the invader.
A rest was called at Zeider, as the task force was now firmly enshrouded by the highest rises of the Metal-Gebirge. The lateness of the season and the frequent rains now really had a lingering effect on the morale of the men.
On October 11, a roaming Prussian force (the 4th Prussian hussars under the famed Lt.-Col. Carl Emanuel von Warnery) encountered part of Browne’s advance guard near Mittelndorf.7 The bluecoats opened fire with their guns, believing the enemy to be a light patrol. Soon this error in judgment was “corrected,” and the Prussian patrol, letting out the alarm, retreated to Altendorf, alerting Lt.-Gen. Dietrich Richard von Meyerinck at Schandau that it needed assistance. It was only then that the Prussians discovered the magnitude of the Austrian effort. Frederick’s reaction was swift and predicable. The force already at Altendorf was reinforced by troops from the garrison of Dresden and the main army.
Meyerinck advanced, deploying his force of some 3,000 men between the Seibntinz and the Kirnitsch streams, which served to protect him from being outflanked. Browne did not close for an engagement, but the newly effective fire of the Austrian artillery overwhelmed any resolve by Meyerinck to seek battle. He forthwith withdrew on Schandau (October 11), opening the way for Browne to proceed.
The same evening, the Austrians reached Lichtenhayn. The task force proceeded to encamp for the night in the cold, damp woods—which the scouts gingerly probed for stronger Prussian patrols—where that one reconnaissance unit had already been encountered. Browne wanted to be ready when the Saxons made their final preparations to depart. About 0600 hours on the morning of October 13, the air brought the sounds of firing, between the Saxons and the bluecoats. This encouraged Browne. But the exchange stopped, although the drenching rain did not. In the evening, another courier arrived from the Saxons begging to postpone the break-out until October 14.
But Augustus muddled through what arrangements he did make and insisted that Browne, who was deep in enemy-controlled country and not adequately prepared for a major battle effort, wait for him. The Saxons may have done all they could, under the circumstances.8 Any rescue plan would first need to take into account the weakened condition of the besieged men.
Prussian posts made choices of potential escape routes limited. The post at Geishubel was much too close to the Saxon left flank to allow any work without tipping off the men therein. The bridgehead at Pirna was covered completely by strong Prussian lines, but the number of boats there could be fashioned into a pontoon bridge. To really pull that off, the Saxons would have to try something significant to divert Prussian attention at Geishubel. Indeed, the best hope for a Saxon escape stretched through Einsiedl, Sebnitz, Litchenhayn, Rathmansdorf, and finally on Schandau. Conveniently, the weak point in the Prussian screen appeared to be at Schandau; there were a mere two battalions posted in that locale.
On the evening of October 7, the long-awaited messenger arrived, bearing news of the Austrian task force and its purpose. The following morning, a picked force of boat and bridge builders were sent to the Elbe to prepare a suitable crossing at Thürmsdorf. Unfortunately, there were few engineers. Accompanying the few that were available was a large group of infantry and guns to keep the Prussians occupied while they went about their business. The Prussians, for their part, were determined to ruin matters, if they could.
The sum of these provisions was limited at best. On the night of October 8–9, the works were discovered by a Prussian battery on the opposite bank, which promptly opened a heavy bombardment. This crippled the Saxon efforts to tow boats into the river and the laborers were forced to beat a hasty retreat. Even worse, hunger compounded their difficulties. The Saxons and their animals “had been 48 hours without bread or forage.”9 The next evening, another feeble effort was wrecked by the alert foe. Augustus now considered giving up on the plan, knowing the enemy would be alert for such business. The desperation of their position must have really impacted on the Saxons.
In the evening hours of October 12, the struggling, but grimly determined, engineers finally put a pontoon bridge across the Elbe near Lilienstein. Late in the night of October 12–13, the main Saxon army rose from its lines and marched in pouring rain on a pitch-dark night towards Thürmsdorf, a maneuver that took until late the next day to complete. By daylight on October 13, only the vanguard of the Saxon army had reached and crossed the Elbe; by then, there was no sign of Browne. But there were plenty of Prussians coming for them, too many.
General Hans Joachim von Ziethen and his command of hussars had pushed on into Pirna that morning. There was a need to proceed with caution, as the Saxons had long occupied their posts and might conceivably have rigged up booby traps for the bluecoats. The command of Ziethen—perhaps six full battalions and 20 squadrons—sped up the intervening country towards them. Ziethen made his presence felt, and the Saxon rearguard was forced to about-face and confront the intruder. There followed sounds of sustained gunfire and fighting up and down the valley all day. To compound the noise, the Saxons manning the Königstein’s artillery had only limited success. Without their sustained, helpful fire, the Saxon task was made harder still. The situation could not have been pleasant at all from the point of view of the Saxons.10
In the event, despite the harrying by Ziethen’s lightly equipped troops, the majority of the Saxons managed to pass over the Elbe by the evening. This availed them little. Once they were across the bridge, it was dismantled. In a surprising turn of events, the pontoon train floated down to Raden, where it was intercepted by the Prussians. They fixed it, while the king himself arrived to put his headquarters at Struppen, of late the Saxon leader’s post. The king was cognizant by then of Browne’s flying corps,11 and he brought 15 squadrons of his dragoons12 to bolster Augustus’ front-facing, desperate men.13 The Prussians were commanded by Cha
rles of Brandenburg-Schwedt; he did all he could to make the enemy’s task nearly impossible.
Browne himself could not have been happy with this turn of events.14 In addition to the external difficulties, the marshal was suffering from a bout of tuberculosis that would eventually help lead to his demise. Still Browne refused the privilege rank would have given; he slept in the same miserable wet weather as his men. “His bed was the hard ground, and the stormy clouds his blanket.”15 From the marshal’s point of view, his task was becoming physically impossible.
For their part, the prepared Prussian reception committee needed little additional help. Their batteries were sited on both sides of the valley. Near Halbstadt and Ebenheit, the Saxons, now less than 14,000 scattered, tired men, had of necessity to pass to join up with Browne’s task force. If the Prussian posts here were overwhelmed by some chance, a second group was on the Ziegenrück ridge, and a stronger one just in front of Lichtenhayn. This latter numbered a full 12,000 men. The strong posts were never called upon to repel the feeble Saxon effort.
Browne marched from his exposed place on the morning of October 14, leaving his allies to their fate. There had been no signal from the Königstein’s guns to indicate the Saxons were near. The Austrians may have even overlooked the signal in the midst of all the firing reverberating up and down the valley. In any case, it was a sad ending to what had started as a promising little adventure of rescue.
Ignorant of Browne’s departure, the Saxons continued forward, half-starved but determined, but the going was getting ever more rough. About 1200 hours on October 14, the signal was fired from the Königstein, apparently by Augustus’ own direction. He had stayed behind at the fortress. But this was too late and Browne was already opening the range. His advanced elements were already approaching Schönlinde. By October 16, Browne was at Kamnitz, and Augustus abandoned any hope of breaking out. The Saxons were effectively stalled before the Lilienstein, and the way in all directions was hopelessly blocked. The bridgehead was still in confusion, and the foodstuffs had played out. Even the ammunition was too wet to use.
Frederick the Great and the Seven Years' War Page 5
