However, there was talk of treason bandied about in the Russian officer corps and rumors that Apraxsin had been in contact with Peter. No doubt with a view to clarify his position before the pro–Prussian leader should Elizabeth die, gave the appearance of some duplicity. As for the other Russian commanders in the war, they had much in common with Apraxsin. To a man, they all wanted Peter to be aware of their rather divided loyalties. They were perfectly willing to sell out the Allied cause should Elizabeth die!
Fermor became the new Russian army commander. His first order was to go occupy the province that Apraxsin had thrown away.
PART IV. 1758: THE THIRD CAMPAIGN
Chapter Twenty
Winter Interlude; Start of Campaign 1758
While Fermor and the Russians were thus occupied, Frederick, still elated by his spectacular victory at Leuthen, took up winter quarters a few days after Christmas 1757. This year, the royal winter quarters were at Breslau, the inhabitants of which were at least partly still in shock over the rapid change of fortunes of the warring parties. It had been a big year. By the king’s military skill and unfaltering will, not to mention the brave men under his command, the Prussian monarch had made it through the first major campaign of the war relatively unscathed. No part of the Prussian kingdom except for East Prussia and the principalities along the Rhine were as yet occupied by the allies, or threatened. And Frederick still held Saxony against enemy attempts to reclaim it.1
As for Ferdinand, he sought to break out of his present predicament as the campaign wound down. He rose from an enforced pause near Harburg, venturing towards Celle. Once there, the Prince could cross the Aller River and conduct military operations with that river at his back.
The French reacted too swiftly for Ferdinand’s good. When the latter’s forces reached Celle on December 13, 1757, the bridges in the area had already been knocked down and Celle itself put to the torch. That was the nadir for allied attempts to forge the Aller that year, although an isolated success was gained as the French garrison in Harburg surrendered. All Richelieu himself did was to reoccupy what was left of Celle. This put paid to the year’s campaigning.2
The casualties had been heavy indeed. Prussian losses in the campaign of 1757 alone were an estimated 50,000 men, a figure that included the cream of the well-trained veterans of the army. Hundreds of officers had been killed or too severely wounded to return to the colors, taken prisoner, or, in some cases, deserted. Well-trained officers would be needed to produce well-trained conscripts, along with the time to do so.
Even if the attrition could be rectified somehow (which it was), the king could not expect the same level of proficiency from the new men as he was used to from the seasoned veterans of old. These latter cadres would constitute an ever shrinking proportion of the army as the war wore on. It had been these trained, capable soldiers that had largely made possible the great victories of 1756 and 1757, although Kolin had proven even those men were not infallible. Never again did the Prussian king achieve the degree of victories as he had previous to the opening of the 1758 campaign. As evidence, his defeats would be more serious, and, when victories were gained, the losses in doing so more severe. The hard fought successes of Zorndorf or in the snows of Torgau can hardly be compared to Rossbach and Leuthen.
And a further diminution of Frederick’s precious veterans occurred when an epidemic of “Hungarian Fever” roared through the crowded Prussian winter quarter camps in and around Breslau. “Pits for thousands of corpses at a time were dug [near Breslau].”3 The Austrians suffered as well.4 It was a cold, very involved winter.5 But all of the new campaigns were as yet in the future, and the king’s immediate concern was to prepare for the campaign of 1758; a difficult enough task, in and of itself.
Although the quality of the bluecoat army could not help but gradually decline, the quantity of the men remained rather steady. By desperate efforts, Frederick managed to raise his partially new army to 145,000 men ready to take to the field for the new campaign.6 A good many may have been enemy deserters, prisoners impressed—either willingly or otherwise—into the service of Prussia, or vagabonds from all over the German Reich and the rest of Europe. But the colors were filled. Diligent Prussian officers were on hand and did their best to give the newcomers the necessary training as time would permit.
Finances were another matter altogether. Wars are nothing if not outrageously expensive, and that fact was just as true in the 18th century as in the 21st. Rödenbeck goes into great detail on many financial aspects of the contemporary Prussian state.7 It was most fortunate for King Frederick hoped that the political climate in Great Britain was once more favorable. But a treaty of alliance between England and Prussia, concluded in January 1757, and arranged at Pitt’s instigation, had proven futile as Pitt resigned from the government under pressure from King George on April 6, 1757.8
While this is not a diplomatic history of the war by any means, there are details that need looked at for a deeper understanding of the issues. The Prussian king looked favorably on cooling off developments in that foreign court and “expressed the hope that England [gain] stable government with ministers more serious.”9 Ministers who were more serious, more conservative (albeit less capable) than Pitt and Newcastle.
The English Parliament alone consented to sending troops to defend Hanover, as its lone firm commitment on the Continent besides providing a subsidy of £164,000 for Prussia. This chilly atmosphere did not last long. Pitt was subsequently restored to his position on July 29, as his opponent the Duke of Cumberland had already been disgraced at Hastenbeck. Pitt had offered Frederick a new subsidy in the aftermath of Kolin; which the latter had refused at that time because of trying to carry on negotiations with the French. For any and all of his flaws, Pitt really labored to bring increased assistance to Prussia from his country.10
Even Pitt did not wish to employ British troops on the European scene in anything other than their limited rôle with Hanover, and a Prussian request for a naval squadron in the Baltic was refused because of a “shortage of available ships and sailors.”11 On this latter point, the same source notes there were 239 ships in the Royal Navy in commission and “twenty-five [more] in reserve.”12 The real reason for the failure of the British to supply a fleet was they were unwilling to strain Anglo-Russian relations any further by doing so.13
The Prussian king clearly desired more than just money from the British, although he also needed that. For a time, King George even tried to compartmentalize his duties as King of England and as Elector of Hanover, even though the interests of the one were very often not the vested interests of the other.14 To be more concise, Pitt’s vision was more in the nature of the tunnel type. However, that could not continue to be the case, especially if French attention was to be kept to the continent of Europe as much as possible—and thus away from North America and Asia. And there was no denying the popularity of the Prussian king in Great Britain. “Not since the early days of William of Orange had a Continental ally” so endeared himself to the English people.15
And Pitt had one redeeming, valuable, virtue, even in those heady days when he was trying to keep British troops from having to fight on the Continent. He quickly realized (and then never forgot) that the underlying interests of Great Britain’s and Hanover’s policies could not be completely separated. No matter how he might wish they were! This salient fact sure complicated matters. When the French undertook active operations in western Germany, the danger to Hanover loomed ever greater. The French government never had any intention of keeping Hanover neutral anyhow, in spite of English hopes to the contrary. And if the Prussians would have to fight Pitt’s war for him, there would ultimately have to be some sacrifices by the English.
There was not any great effort by the English to muddy the waters with the Russian court, laying aside the issue with Hanover. This was a rather odd situation that would ultimately prevail throughout the war. Even after numerous shakeups in both governments. Their mutual interests
in the Baltic helped keep them away from a mutual open breach.
As for Pitt, he was an excellent diplomat, but was not yet fully aware that the key to wrestling France’s North American provinces, and, to a lesser extent, Asian possessions lay mainly in the battlefields of Central Europe. This was a revelation the English statesman would realize, in due course. Meanwhile, the joyous news of Rossbach provided new impetus for the English minister’s efforts to win more support for his ally. Supporting what appears to be the winning side is always easier. Especially when the one-sided nature of that battle was taken into account. (On this point, we must admit there was no guarantee of any repeat of the triumph). Meanwhile, Rossbach made Prussia loom as a more valuable ally for Great Britain.16 There were limited benefits, no matter what. In a letter home, dated February 9, 1758, Ambassador Mitchell was writing, “I could give him [Frederick] no expectation that English troops would be sent [directly to Prussia].”17 The ambassador suggested trying to get Danish troops involved in the war on the Prussian side. Rossbach indeed! Fortunately, the matter did not end there. Now a new subsidy was tendered (and accepted) in a new treaty—dated April 11, 1758—by which £675,000 was to be paid to Frederick annually—in bullion, no less.18 As one of the prerequisites, both countries agreed not to carry on any separate negotiations with their mutual enemies. The Prussians had no choice. Frederick needed the influx of money desperately to finance his military operations.
The campaign of 1757 had cost him some 20,000,000 thalers. The war treasury was already nearing bankruptcy, so the hard-pressed king took the only measures he had available: debasing the currency and drawing on the occupied territories for further finances. The devaluation of the currency was a useful, if desperate, expediate, to raise additional money, for the realm demanded that taxes and bills be paid to the State according to the older valuation. Meanwhile, in a true double standard, this same government then paid its own debts in the new, lower valuation, if at all.19 Moreover, there were additional measures implemented. Saxony was subjected to exhaustive new taxes,20 Mecklenburg followed, and even the Catholic Church in Silesia had to cough up taxation money.21 With the combination of all of these measures, the treasury was raised to a total of 15,000,000 talers for the coming campaign of 1758. The real problem lay in the future, because the devaluing of the money was to be too tempting not to resort to again and again.22
In topographical terms, this new campaign would be waged over most of the same country as the previous one.23 Frederick allocated himself only 40,000 men (for his post in Silesia), while Prince Henry, with command in Saxony that coming season,24 was allowed 30,000 troops. Prince Henry was really a busy man.25 To help Ferdinand out, but also to discomfort the French, the prince was determined to do something.26 Summoning up nine full battalions (about 8,000 men or so), about 1200 hours on February 9, 1758, he marched from Halberstadt to do some mischief. There was no sense of urgency about the advance, and Henry’s patrols easily alerted the French that something was up. February 24, the bluecoats under Prince Henry crossed the Oker River and quickly found themselves in the company of General Heinrich Wilhelm von Freytag’s men. A large French force was shadowing Henry, for the French were very alarmed, but his troops made no further significant moves.27 The bluecoat advance on Wolfenbüttel was via Regensburg and Goslar. Rumors28 flew that the force was more than double what it actually was and was being led by the king himself. The French “assumed that Frederick must be leading it [i.e., the Prince’s force] in person.”29 Evidently they believed Prince Henry would never take the offensive. The French were immediately ready to pull up stakes and abandon Bremen and Göttingen. Soubises’ men sought safety behind the Weser and even the French interests in the immediate vicinity were all in danger of being compromised.
While his raiders did all they could to diminish the enemy’s numbers against him, Prince Henry had “recruiters” out, snagging new men for Frederick’s armies. After Henry’s withdrawal around March 2, the charge was unjustly labeled against him by critics that he could have done much more. That he should have pressed the advantage until the enemy managed to stop him. Soubises’ lines were vulnerable, perhaps even ripe for a rout, but to press forward would have sacrificed his rear to invasion and even exposed Prince Henry’s lines-of-communication.
Obviously, the major reason for Henry’s little expedition was the discomfiture of the French. At the end of February, Prince Henry fired off a testy letter to the French commander opposite to him, Soubise. It was given out, in view of the French atrocities during the previous campaign on the road to Rossbach, not to mention most recently when a French occupation of Halberstadt (January 11–18, 1758) resulted in more outrages,30 then the French could expect little more than the same themselves. Prince Henry was quick to inform our old friend Soubise that, as revenge, any captured French officers in their custody would receive harsher treatment than before.
In fact, the threatened retaliation against the “guilty” French officers was never carried out, as the Prussian leadership had never expected the little episode to amount to much anyway. Frederick did not want to siphon off too many men from Saxony or be gone for too long. Henry himself was not over confident of success, and he had moved out with no attempt to conceal either the direction or the nature of his mission. Frederick’s overall strategic sense remained notably limited, as this episode reveals. There is little doubt what the next Great Captain, Napoleon, would have done under similar circumstances.
Meanwhile, at the Northern Front, Lehwaldt (whose failure before Stralsund was the final straw) had tendered his resignation from field command.31 General Count Christoph von Dohna was to become the new commander. Lehwaldt was subsequently consigned to a desk job, becoming commandant at the Prussian capital as well as doing what he could to help shore up Berlin’s defenses beyond the city. Events of the previous October, of course, had demonstrated Berlin’s vulnerability. Dohna’s task was already cast. He was to have 18,000 men with him to watch the Swedes as well as to keep an eye on the direction of the Russians so as to watch for military movements against Brandenburg and Pomerania from there. The bluecoats had additional men with Prince Ferdinand in the West, the latter having been appointed permanent commander to act against the French.32
On February 18, Ferdinand launched a well-prepared advance to threaten the position of the French on the Aller. General Wangenheim was on the allied right, and Freytag’s hussars covered the left. Not surprisingly, the weather in the middle of February was appalling, and this helped hold up the advance. In the late afternoon of February 21, the allies reached Verdun, while Clermont’s men were preparing for what was to come. Wangenheim took Rotenburg and Verdun. Although the bridge there was safe, the French tried—unsuccessfully—to blow up those spans over the Aller.33 As a direct result, the allies soon penetrated this barrier. So the enemy were in the process of advancing, while Clermont by then was busy thinking only of hitching backwards, away from the vicinity of the enemy. Prince Henry’s offensive, earlier referred to, had helped out. On February 27, Prussian cavalry seized Nienburg. Ferdinand and the main body of his men occupied Neustadt-on-Reubenburg. These two positions hopelessly compromised Clermont’s lines. His only remaining choice was to retreat while he still could.
The French commander tumbled backwards, and, on March 3, took up camp right beside the old battlefield of Hastenbeck. The situation for the French was bleak, although even Clermont saw at once he needed the post of Minden if he wanted to stay in the area. What made matters worse, Clermont had no idea what Ferdinand was planning. The French commander might have guessed that Ferdinand, too, had his eyes on Minden. The latter only awaited bringing up the artillery and allowing the troops some time to rest. Ferdinand wanted to know in turn what the French might be up to, so he unbuckled his scouts to go hunting for signs of Clermont’s unsteady army.
There was a garrison in Minden; this would prove a hindrance to Ferdinand should he choose to move on it. He could not safely leave it at his rear
in order to pursue Clermont. So the allied commander put Minden under siege. Surprisingly enough, the place fell on March 15, and the immediate result was the French abandoned posts on the “wrong” side of the Rhine by April 4. Ferdinand pursued, but only as far as Warendorf. Henry helped out,34 but it was largely through the efforts of Ferdinand that the enemy had entirely abandoned the right bank of the Rhine. This exceptional winter effort delayed the action of the main 1758 campaign until later than otherwise.
There were scattered detachments keeping watch in lower Saxony, and other points, but with no reserves to speak of, against the enemy.
As for those enemies, some cracks were beginning to show in the formidable wall of the coalition. France, stung by reverses in the French & Indian War on the North American continent, was longing for peace in Europe so she could pursue her fight with the English overseas. But the Pompadour’s influence was still too great, and, in February 1758, King Louis guaranteed that yet another campaign would be waged on the Continent. As for Maria Theresa, she had rejected outright overtures for peace from the irascible Frederick. Russia’s Czarina Elizabeth had an important part to play in reuniting her faltering allies’ resolve to carry on the war with the sharp-tongued Prussian king.
Maria Theresa had little hope of keeping France and Russia in the war, and she must have been pleasantly surprised to learn they were not going to desert her. Nonetheless, the Austrian army had been given a sharp rebuke from the very capable bluecoats, and its commanders wanted Austria’s allies to start the process of carrying a bigger share of the war. With the new campaign on the horizon, this seemed like a good time to start.
Frederick the Great and the Seven Years' War Page 36
