The Prussian scouts readily detected this movement by the enemy. As for the king, he naturally assumed as soon as learned dust was rising from the enemy’s camp that Daun was drawing away. Or, at least he was busy realigning his army into a better position. Frederick was resolved to press forward to find out if the marshal would indeed offer battle or finally retreat back into Bohemia without need of one. His confidence in victory was not marred by the obvious inferior numbers he could oppose to this fresh enemy effort.
To the point, the king had about 18,000 infantry (in 32 battalions), 14,000 cavalry (in 116 squadrons), and 88 guns, of which 28 were classified as heavy ordnance. His total strength of about 32,000 men, excluded only the crews for the artillery, for which no estimate is available.9 The best estimates of Daun’s strength was 35,160 infantry in 42 battalions, 18,630 horsemen in 17 cavalry regiments, and 145 guns. Adding in the light troops brought the total to approximately 54,000 men. This made the Prussian inferiority in numbers telling in every category except cavalry. It remained to be seen whether the Austrians were posted on ground conducive to major cavalry operations or not. And Marshal Daun was already displaying his defensive specialized skills. He was using the angle of the Kamayak to conceal the extent of his army from the Prussians when looking simply from the road.
However, the bluecoats were positioned so that they could break camp quickly, in the event they needed to do so. The twilight shifts of June 17 were much a prelude to the coming storm of the following day.
Meanwhile, in the Austrian camp, Kaunitz, following the failure to successfully help Prince Charles before the Prague battle, had been urging Daun to be cautious with his field army. It made perfect sense to Kaunitz for Marshal Daun to fall back until he had gathered enough strength to take the offensive and save Prague. By early June, the Austrian high command felt the situation warranted Daun advancing to seek battle. On June 8, he had been ordered to do so.10 Ready or not, conditions within Prague made rescue imperative.
Chapter Nine
The Battle of Kolin
Daun’s new position was one of great military strength. His center and right wing were positioned across the road which ran through the Krzeczhorz Gap. The Austrians were deployed on rises south-southeast of the high road, and was about five miles in extent. The Prussian enemy was expected to approach using the high road. Out in front of his main force, Daun made sure to keep swarms of light troops to deal with the bluecoat advanced guard should it choose to attack. Hundreds of dismounted irregulars took cover in and behind the many cornfields thereabouts, watching the Kaiser-Straβe for the foe. It was pointed out to the marshal, by one Major Veltesz, that the king was in deadly earnest. There was no doubt about that. That being the case, a number of factors became interesting, not the least of these the terrain.
On the right, behind the oakwood about one mile, lay the little village of Radowesnitz. Directly behind that, the branch of the Elbe. The topography of the immediate ground was made up of mounds and small slopes largely, rising gradually towards the west and northwest, while that side towards Kolin was cut up by the stream. The so-called “Friedrich’s Berg” was a small, cone-shaped hillock rising a short distance beyond the Kamayak. It has received some minor recognition because Frederick the Great supposedly spent a large part of the imminent battle there. Although largely nondescript, it did have one important physical feature. Having a height of about 150 feet, it dominates the view of the Kamayak. Therefore, an army encamped on the other side of the ridge could rather easily be detected. However, and this was important, the view was not perfect and the rolling landscape still presented the observer with visual problems.
On the morning of June 18, the king was still in his self-induced cloud about pursuing the enemy. It seems incredulous that the Prussian monarch was still not aware of the truth. The original scheme, still in the offing, of moving upon Kuttenberg, was slowly slipping away. The situation was little different in the Austrian camp. Limited probing efforts on the previous evening by the bluecoats had caused Daun to exhibit some uneasiness over his right wing. It was clear the enemy were going to do something and soon.1
Just before 0500 hours, Frederick summoned Tresckow to him. The general was charged off to occupy a hillock over by Planian with some light troops, and chase away the few enemy detachments still in view. Tresckow was told the main enemy army was gone (wonder where that came from?), and that he should have little trouble. Just about the same time, Daun sent grenadiers to reinforce the little villages of Radenin and Pohortz, where Beck’s men were.
General Tresckow moved out, but about 0530 hours, his scouts encountered a little post of Austrian cavalry. The latter promptly fled to Braditz, while Daun’s grenadiers were completing their original instructions regarding Radenin and Pohortz. General Ziethen’s forward elements moved towards the rises behind Planian. The hussar sent back, by one of his fastest riders, warning that Daun’s whole army was at hand and prepared for battle, while a light infantry fire broke out along the front. The Austrians were unpleasantly surprised themselves. General Nádasti’s startled men nevertheless put up what resistance was needed to discern the enemy’s intentions.
The main Prussian army broke camp about 0600 hours and began moving, in two columns, astride the high road. General Hülsen was in command of the forward elements, some seven battalions and six guns. Nearby, Tresckow, whose plans had been altered, with a strength of nine battalions, was already hard at work. One of the columns moved through Planian and up the high road itself, the second through the brush and the country beyond. A march of six miles brought the bluecoats to the ground they needed for their battle effort.2
The enemy activity had been relatively quiet, which allowed the king to investigate more thoroughly the whole situation. He lacked maps and the country was relatively new to the bluecoats, so Frederick spent the early morning hours climbing buildings and any other points of vantage trying to look over the terrain and the Austrian position. The king surmounted the church tower at Planian, but found the effort unrewarding. The view was just too restrictive to tell him much about what his army was up against. This in spite of the fact the Battle of Chotusitz in 1742 had taken place in the same general area. Finally, the king gained access to the Novomiesto Inn (some two miles east-southeast of Planian) with no trouble.3 Here, only about ½ mile from the Friedrich’s Berg, the king for the first time could make out the preparations of Daun to receive his imminent attack. As for the Austrians, their spotters could quite distinctly see the Prussian cavalry on the high road, with the bluecoat infantry massed behind the cavalry.
Frederick ordered the men to halt and refresh themselves, now that he knew the enemy were not slipping away. All except for Ziethen’s horsemen, who continued eastward to probe the Austrian positions, gently for the moment. The sun was shining, it was hot, and the troops were already tiring from the pace of the forced march. Even at this stage, opinions still varied wildly about what to do. Prince Moritz was in favor of striking at Daun at once, a view shared by Engineer Captain Friedrich Giese. With the issue no longer in doubt, the king brushed aside the doubters and prepared for battle.
Nevertheless, the view even from the Novomiesto left something to be desired. The nature of the country, rising gradually towards the east up the Kaiser-Straβe, made Krzeczhorz and its more western neighbor, the Przerovsky, the two most notable rises in the area, appear less challenging than they were. Not too much should be made of these obstacles, though. And, for a change, the bluecoats were astride one of the best roads in the Europe of that time.4
During the pause, the cavalry and artillery horses were allowed to rest, the rearguard brought up, and the thirsty mouths drank to contentment from the soothing water. The halt lasted for three hours. With battle resolved upon, the king’s problem was a relatively simple one: find the best method of striking at Daun’s men with a reasonable hope of success. He ruled the possibility out completely that the marshal would attack him—although he would learn differe
ntly at Hochkirch the following year.
Finally, about 1200 hours, the king called in his subordinates to the inn to give them their orders for the forthcoming battle. It is still amazing to hear about the cutting of the orders. Frederick frankly admitted he once possessed a topographical plan about Kolin “but Major von Giese can not find it.”5 The Prussian army barged into the battle with only the vaguest notion of the lay of the land—the king’s assertions his general officers could remember “the neighborhood from the time … [of the First Silesian War] in 1742” to the contrary.6 The results of this deficiency would be less than agreeable.
On the other hand, some sources suggest the Prussians as a whole, including the king, was really quite familiar with the immediate topographical features of the area. “He [i.e., Frederick] was perfectly acquainted with the ground himself.”7
What the bluecoats may have lacked in concrete knowledge of the terrain, they more than made up for in the “clear” instructions issued to the generals just before the battle that day. Frederick, who knew perfectly well how high the stakes were in the contest at hand, tried to anticipate any problems that might crop up. There were some basic understandings. The main effort would be directed against the Austrian right. Since this was the case, the Prussian left flank as a body was not to stop until it reached the stream of Kolin. Once there, it could begin the day’s business.
As for the Prussian right wing, “it should not lose any casualties.”8 This most obviously meant it was to stand refused during the battle. To cement matters, the king then physically pointed out a small fish pond and a nearby village—perhaps Brzezan or Blinka—beyond which the Prussian right was not to go. Frederick made sure that this was clearly understood by the assembled generals. They all, “understood,” and Prince Moritz gave the best closer, “the orders were so clear that nobody could veer off course.”9 This was while the war was still young, when seasoned veterans still populated the ranks of Prussian officers. Later on in the war, this scenario would not be plausible. Still, even professionals are human, and the errors committed on the Prussian side at Kolin were many and very costly. This the fighting would bear out. On the field, the king offered to go back over those same “clear” instructions if anyone did not understand what they were to do.
Frederick’s plan of attack was little more than his favorite tactic: strike and crush one flank of the enemy’s army before it could be aided by the enemy’s unaffected flank and center. In this instance now at hand, it was once more the right flank which the king chose to assault. He was helped to this conclusion by a number of factors: (1) Daun’s left, sheltered between Swoyschitz (on the Berzvarka Berg) and the tributary of the Elbe where Hradenin was located, was further protected by the sloping ground in front; it would be difficult to strike successfully without incurring heavy losses; (2) The Austrian center was protected by large batteries supported by thousands of the enemy’s best troops; an assault here would mean costly casualties with little hope of success; (3) The Austrian right held a more exposed position with fewer troops; it appeared to be Daun’s “Achilles’ Heel.”
The plan called for the Prussian advanced guard to march across the front of the enemy, parallel with it or nearly so, and, having reached the area forward of the Austrian right, to go in at once against it. If all went well, the enemy’s right would be defeated before Daun could get any significant reinforcements to it. Each following division, though it would at first be facing Kolin to draw the attention of the enemy, was to go in behind the van against Daun’s right. It was a maneuver only the bluecoats, with their close order march, could perform in a short space of time. Hopefully, the enemy’s army would be beaten almost before the action had really started.
With this type of assault, there was little or no room for error on the part of the junior officer corps. The senior officers understood the roles they were to play in this critical drama. That was the reason why Frederick not only pointed out to his senior commanders what he expected, but also took the time to brief the adjutants/sides of the generals as well. On the plus side, the dispositions of Daun could be discerned as clearly as possible. He was making no attempt to conceal his desires. To the point, “Here the order in which [M]arshal Daun had arranged his forces … were distinctly seen.”10 The king could prepare accordingly.
To accommodate the main Prussian effort, most of the power strength of the Prussian army was in its left wing. This was one reason why the king felt the attack could be successful, since he believed Daun would only be able to oppose to him a smaller force at that point of attack. A solitary cavalryman, dismounted from his horse, was found hovering close-by. Some hussars went out and took the man captive. He turned out to be a Captain Kraus. Kraus “admitted” the marshal was planning to attack the Prussians the next day. If the purpose of Kraus was a ploy on Daun’s part to scare the king into retreating without having to fight a battle with a bigger Austrian army, it failed miserably.
General Hülsen was to strike toward Krzeczhorz, the target a solitary church and graveyard in front of the place. He pushed off a little after noon. The lead horsed unit of the advance was the 11th Dragoons of Colonel Christoph von Stechow, among the most reliable cavalry in the whole service. Ziethen’s overall task was important. With 50 squadrons, he was to shield Hülsen’s left, especially from an outflanking maneuver from the direction of Radowesnitz, against an open Prussian wing.
Frederick indicated the day’s main effort was to be made on Hülsen’s side. “All of the infantry of the army was needed” for this stroke and the “right wing was to be kept inactive.” Further, the king wrote, “had these orders been observed, I should have had fresh battalions to spare.”11 Behind Ziethen was a sizeable number of 100 additional cavalry squadrons which were to be held back as a reserve until the infantry had completed its job.
The Prussian right flank forces were to stand to their position (here it appeared to threaten the Austrian left). The right wing was idle, but did have the job of providing troops to the formations that were earmarked for the effort.
Frederick’s plan having been explained to his commanders, they returned to their respective formations. A general order to march was issued at about 1300 hours, and the bluecoats, once more in two columns—the left and the right of the marching order to become front and rear of the battle line, respectively—moved forward. The first column struck off the high road into the country above, the last following on the Kaiser-Straβe itself.
The alert gunners of the Austrian batteries, seeing the Prussians coming on down the Kaiser-Straβe, opened a deliberate, steady fire upon them. The irregulars, taking shelter in the rolling ground to the front, fired intermittently at the bluecoats with their trusty muskets. Ziethen peeled off from the van with his riders, while Nádasti (who was in charge of the vanguard of the Austrian army) rode his squadrons out into Ziethen’s path. The Austrian commander had a force of about 10,500 men, light horse except for about 4,000 Croats. Nádasti was a competent cavalry commander, but the Austrian horse left something to be desired in quality when compared with its Prussian counterpart. Still, the Austrian cavalry was much improved compared to the beginning of Frederick’s reign, while, at Kolin, among other actions, the Prussian was worse.12
Ziethen ordered his men to clear away Nádasti’s screen, just above Kutlirz. A short tussle ensued. The Austrians speedily gave way, retiring to a better position over to the valley about Kutlirz in order to hook up with Nádasti’s main body of horse, but leaving Ziethen free to move. Nádasti’s riders had withdrawn within sight of a hollow near Radowesnitz, between it and the oakwood, better known as the Eichenbusch. Ziethen promptly pulled back from his forward position, leaving the Austrian van a shambles, out of action. Hülsen’s men, marching past all of this, moved to the ground in front of Krzeczhorz. His men were also peppered by the enemy’s light fire, and word was sent back to the king of the enemy’s presence. His formation had struggled under the hottest part of the day moving into attack position. A
bout 1300 hours or so, Hülsen’s troops, harassed by the Croat fire, finally reached their assigned attack point.13
Here halt was called, and the men wheeled to their right, according to the plan of battle. Now they deployed into battle formation. Two Austrian gun crews, posted on the Krzeczhorz rise, aimed their pieces straight at the enemy. As these guns opened fire, General Hülsen’s men halted momentarily. Hülsen’s horse drawn artillery was unlimbered, and opened fire on the enemy opposite. All of this while the infantry, by that point in battle formation, moved forward to the attack. It was 1400 hours. The old commander was in no particular hurry. Part of the reason for the hour-long delay was the complication of coordinating an attack scheme with the supporting forces. This problem was to become ever more telling as the day wore on and Prussian formations were dispatched to fruitless, unauthorized attacks. Meanwhile, Hülsen’s men marched into battle to the tune of musicians plying their trade, as usual.
The old hussar pressed his men through the streets of Krzeczhorz, after taking heavy losses. By then, the place was on fire. This Prussian effort outflanked and stormed two strong enemy batteries between that place and Bristwai. The tally sheet would net seven guns (about 1415 hours), while Tresckow, hurrying up behind, would capture an additional 17 pieces of ordnance. The 36th Infantry (Lt.-Gen. Gustav Bogislav von Münchow) performed very well, here backed up by Möllendorf’s and other grenadiers. It was at the front of this first assault, and here suffered heavily.14
Frederick the Great and the Seven Years' War Page 17
