The English cavalry was anchored on Hartum, under the command of Lord George Sackville. Just about 0800 hours, August 1, the battle began when the allied hussars attacked the French at the Hahlen position. This first effort was in vain, a second also miscarried, but the hussars finally took the position in the third stroke. A force of six British regiments had been assigned to anchor the allied center, and these units had moved forward prior even to the final attack on Hahlen. The men were shelled by Contades’ guns, some 66 pieces, the French horse coming on. Some 75 French squadrons participated, a first effort was beaten off, and the British advance continued. A desperate struggle now ensued, and after an hour the French horse was put to flight. Broglie amused himself with Wangenheim, who was worried about the gap between him and Ferdinand. The French right struck, but the Prussian hussars broke it up. The French withdrew momentarily. Enemy attention was diverted to the six aforementioned British regiments.
The French now went in against the British foot. The regiments were the following: Infantry 12th, 20th, 23rd, 25th, 37th, and 51st. The assailants were here likewise driven back, and then came the moment when the British cavalry should have been launched to complete the French repulse. The qualifier is here used because Sackville held back the horse, which consisted of 1st and 3rd British Blue Dragoons, the Scotts Greys, and the 10th Dragoons.70 However, in spite of Sackville’s inane behavior, the French had been beaten by 1000 hours; Contades was allowed to retire from whence he came. While he was thus occupied, Broglie, who had been scarcely in the action, was ordered to cover the retreat. He at once retired into Minden.
What could have been a brilliant victory, with Sackville’s cooperation, was just a good one. Capping the allied success was the storming of Gohfeld by Brunswick, which compromised the entire front of the French. As soon as Contades heard of Brunswick’s victory, he decided to withdraw under cover from the area under cover of darkness. He headed for Wesel, while Broglie made at best pace for Frankfurt. The French loss in the Battle of Minden came to approximately 7,086 men, with considerable guns lost (115) and camp equipment, the allies lost 2,822; of this sum, the British foot lost 1,330 out of a total strength of 4,434.71
For his shameful conduct, Sackville was tried by a court-martial and stripped of his command. The battle ended the campaign of 1759 on the Western Front. Again the French had had the worst of it. There had to be a scapegoat for the French disaster. Contades was it. On September 27, the unfortunate man, one of the best French generals of the war without a doubt, was forced out; sacrificed on the altar of defeat and bitter acrimony on the part of much of the French army.72 Ferdinand, for his part, pursued the enemy as far as the Rhine, and there paused in order to send 12,000 men to aid the main Prussian army after Kunersdorf. The Swedes had failed to strike for Berlin, which greatly relieved the Prussian king. The latter had put his army into winter quarters near Wilsdruf (where Prince Henry was in nominal command); his headquarters at Freiberg, opposite Daun, also in winter quarters. Ferdinand made one last operation. Following the detachment of 12,000 men, he moved to retake Münster from the French.73 General Imhof was given direction of the undertaking, Ferdinand taking up close by to deter any French relief efforts. By November 21, he had wrestled it away, and Brunswick was at Fulda by then with the recalled 12,000 men.
At Fulda itself, Broglie had placed a force of 12,000 men under Charles of Württemberg, supplementing him with an additional 1,000 French cavalry. November 30, about 0900 hours, word was received there that Brunswick had driven in some nearby post and was aiming for the town bridge. Charles put a small cannon on that bridge although a single Prussian hussar nabbed it. The gun crew and the unsteady defense force ran away, leaving the way wide open. The allies followed, netting some 1,200 of the enemy and two guns in the deal. This ended the campaign there, Ferdinand taking up winter post.
It had been a long year for Frederick and his tiny nation, and a costly one. During the course of the campaign 1759, he had lost some 60,000 men in battle and marches, besides those suffering in the bitter cold of the winter 1759/1760. Nevertheless, during that winter, Frederick tried again to secure peace terms from the French. The latter had suffered serious reverses in North America, India, and the various other spheres, not to mention the setbacks they had just endured in Germany. The action at Minden was more than a counter to that at Bergen and France might just be ready for peace. Of course, Frederick kept these negotiations from the British.
PART VI. 1760: THE FIFTH CAMPAIGN
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Austrian Successes in Silesia; Frederick Ruminates There
Ultimately these efforts at peace proved futile. Frederick was finding it harder than ever to keep both his army and his war chest filled. He had managed, by strenuous efforts, to prevent Daun and his accomplices from reconquering most of Saxony, in spite of Maxen and Meissen. Yet, overall, there had been little change in his prospects. Moreover, with the number and skill of his opponents ever increasing, the Prussian king had no desire to continue the war. The coming campaign of 1760—could it be otherwise?
The allies were quite capable of vanquishing the vaunted Prussian legions under their great leader, but Frederick remained the master wizard who could raise armies and monies seemingly out of thin air time and again.1 Nevertheless, the quality of these troops gradually declined. The reason for much of the monarch’s success during the previous four years was attributed directly to the veteran formations that were available to the Prussian king and to the extensive maneuvering they were capable of.2 But the continuing high casualty rate and attrition through capture and sickness had really shredded the once magnificent Prussian legions. The hemorrhaging amongst the officer corps was just as serious. For instance, forty generals had been lost through death alone by early 1760 since the beginning of the long war.3 The effect could not be positive. As a result, “neither in strength nor in discipline … were the later armies [of the Seven Years’ War] suited for the sweeping offensives” that the bluecoats had earlier embarked upon.4
It was also becoming painfully obvious, especially after the defeats of 1759, Prussia’s cause could only worsen so long as the war continued.5 While the British basked in one triumph after another,6 1759 had not been kind to their one major Continental ally. Enormous losses in men and money remained a daunting challenge. Such bloodletting could not continue on this scale, nor be unnecessarily prolonged.
If economics were proving difficult for the bluecoats, though, they were just as serious for the allies. Austria’s finances, never a strong suit, would reflect a deficit spending by 1760.7 This was a situation mirrored by the French, who were in similar straits. In 1760, French King Louis XV “sent his silver to the mint [to be used to finance the war], and urged his courtiers to do the same.”8 Kaunitz was also facing up to new realities with regards to the Russians. By 1760, the latter held East Prussia almost as their own.
It looked more and more like they wanted to keep it at the peace.9 We could add the Austrians did not look with any favor on Russian acquisition of any part of Central Europe. Even the Hofkriegsrath and the Austrian high command had to acknowledge their Eastern allies already as good as “owned” East Prussia. The Russians would be unlikely to gain any further territorial conquests as a result of the continuation of the war, so further military efforts would undoubtedly be limited. This was a heavy financial drain that could only worsen as long as the war continued.
It was no different elsewhere. The French, suffering serious reverses in North America and in India, were confronting a war growing daily more expensive. Any enthusiasm of the French was fast waning. The other allies were not in much better shape. The Swedes just could not get going. This had been just as true in 1760 as in 1757. Overall, the fragile, divergent interests of the allies continued to be a lingering problem, and the greatest weakness lay perhaps in Czarina Elizabeth’s frail health since this individual served to keep the whole ensemble going.
At the same time, there were some posi
tive factors. Helping matters along was the fact that the bluecoats did not undertake any of the “small war” operations in early 1760 like there had been in both 1758 and 1759. This useful interlude instead was utilized by the Marshal & Company in looking over how the coming campaign of 1760 needed to be conducted. Quite naturally, General Lacy (who was about to be promoted to full general) was willing to contribute his ideas. He believed that the Austrian army should keep on a passive defense, at least until the Russians could draw near enough to make a difference in the proceedings.
Meanwhile, the Northern Front actually produced the first events of Campaign 1760.10 General Manteuffel, on January 20, dashed across the Peene searching for the Swedes.11 A small Swedish force, led by General Kallin, consisting of the Upland Infantry Östgöta and the Westgöta Cavalry, opposed this effort.12 A short fight forced the startled Swedes to reel back on Drietrichshagen; their losses were 20 men killed and 100 taken prisoner.13 At Zussow, where the enemy was in proximity, the bluecoats took a brief pause.
Manteuffel occupied the village, while the Swedes drove their forces through the defile of Wrangelsburg. The Prussian general could muster not quite 5,000 men, and he hastily withdrew from the exposed position without detection. The next morning, January 24, when the Swedes pushed in to the attack, they found the Prussian lines deserted. The bluecoats drew back upon Anklam, and proceeded to effect repairs on an old bridge hard-by the place. The Swedes were moving as well. General Langtinghausen was careful to approach the bridge14 with a good cadre of troops from the Skaraborgs, Ionkopings, Södermanland, and the Westerbottens Regiments, along with some light troops, all under the direct command of General Horn. The Swedes wanted to strike against their vigorous enemy. Rumor mill had the bluecoats present thereabouts in a strength of two full companies. During the night of January 27–28, the Swedes suddenly descended upon the town, where General Manteuffel was present.
When the intelligence was received the Swedes were at hand, the general rushed to the town square with some force to defend his post. The enemy, on this occasion, was just too much. After a short fight, Manteuffel was wounded by three bayonet thrusts and taken prisoner,15 along with some 187 men and four officers, besides 13 killed.16 Skaraborgs led the way, penetrating towards the heart of Anklam and seizing some nearby Prussian artillery. But the objectives of the Swedes were limited and they unaccountably failed to press their considerable advantage.17 Hesitating proved costly. The intruders were not permitted to keep their ill-gotten gains. Major-General Jung Stutterheim, alerted to the unfolding of events, came riding forward on his horse to rally the bluecoats. In short order, the Swedes were driven from the field, smarting from the sudden reversal of fortune and all.18 Manteuffel was carried back to the Swedish lines, and was not exchanged until the peace.19 There ensued a lull of sorts in the north, after this “first blood.”
There were also developments over in the Austrian sphere. Lacy was the head of the Austrian General Staff, and, as such, his influence upon the operations of the army were bound to be telling.20 Lacy was a wise, calculating individual, but he was tempered by circumstances; conditions that had not fundamentally changed since the outbreak of the war. The Austrians once again demonstrated the fundamental weakness of their system-of-command. In this style, many people, with divergent views and often secret agendas, had a say in what the army as a whole might be doing. In contrast, in the Prussian system, there was no final authority but one: the king. Moreover, the Prussian monarch led his armies personally, unlike heads of state like Maria Theresa and Louis XV and, certainly, Czarina Elizabeth of Russia.21 It would appear this latter kind of structure was greatly superior to the many-faceted head of the Austrian High Command. For, in contrast to the mild-tempered, laid-back Lacy, the ambitious Austrian Chancellor Kaunitz had one burning desire in the last years of the war: to bring the main Prussian army under its king finally to boot. Kaunitz had no other expectation of a successful conclusion to the long struggle than the above. Moreover, the idea of keeping to a rather placid defense for what promised to be a large part of the campaign of 1760, in view of the slow moving nature of the Russians, was not appealing to many on the Austrian side. This leaves aside the likely necessity of doing so.
Now to the disadvantages. For one thing, surrendering the initiative to the very aggressive Frederick could allow him a free hand to pursue offensive designs he had without interference. For another, the image of the Austrians would be greatly tarnished in the eyes of their allies and all of Europe if they tamely conceded their ambition to the great Prussian king. Laudon was a very outspoken critic of the “new” Austrian strategy as postulated by Lacy for the coming campaign.22 Laudon (himself soon to be made a full general) contented that overly resorting to defensive-minded strategies in the campaign just concluded had undoubtedly cost the allies some of their lost opportunities then. And, finally, Laudon could consider Count Kaunitz among his advocates for an offensive war.
Meanwhile, the winter of 1759–1760 kept the Prussian army in distress. The king maintained his army largely in small villages, keeping his men in as warm quarters as he could while he waited upon the coming spring. He did not realize, while his men were huddled into the small buildings and hovels they called home until the new campaign, just how divided his web of enemies actually were. Complicating matters even more was a severe offseason. It was a drastic winter, one of the worst of the entire eighteenth century. At Leipzig “ten sentinels froze to death at their posts.”23 Moreover, secret agendas and narrow interests among the different nations drove the war. Overall, the king could take some comfort from the fact that the allied throng was by no means a united bunch.
His own corps of commanders were far from secure. Prince Henry, for instance, worn out by the struggles of the previous few campaigns, was off on extended sick leave in Wittenberg, just like the winter before, from what was considered a “kind of flying gout.”24 Whether or not the king and his brother got along amicably, the singular fact remained that Prince Henry was among the very few capable, if outspoken, army commanders. Frederick was still suffering from the loss of so many fine general officers. The whole army was at least nominally united, if no other reason than the overpowering presence of the king.
The divisions within the Austrian command, on the other hand, ran deep.25 Tensions that were part and parcel of the whole make-up of the Imperial Austrian army. Rivalries that promoted political agendas guaranteeing that each military move undertaken by the host would produce vituperate debate and censure. And could, of course, hint at “gridlock.” For Laudon & Company also actively opposed Lacy’s idea of inviting the Russians to camps in Silesia, with potential problems for the distressed province. These advocates for a spring offensive wanted to rely more upon their own prowess and less upon their allies from the East. It made sense, under the circumstances. Very quickly, and with surprisingly little fanfare, the Austrian High Command shelved any idea of a compliant defense and, instead of doing this, went over wholeheartedly to the idea of a good strong offense. Trying to win the war before Campaign 1760 concluded. Another compelling reason loomed. There just could not be many more campaigns such as they were.26 Interestingly, Lacy proposed a joint Austro-Russian move in the direction of Prussia’s capital, and, before the end of the present campaign, he would be permitted to indulge in that very enterprise.
It is also worth noting that none of the major antagonists in this conflict, with the notable exception of Russia (for reasons entirely its own), wished to see the fighting continue on. Continuing problems between and among the major military powers of Western Europe would not be detrimental to Russian interests. Having said that, none of the combatants, including Frederick’s Prussia, were willing to make any significant concessions in order to gain peace in 1760. Even Henry was urging on Frederick to grant some territorial concessions in order to secure a peace in 1760.27 There may have been some covert negotiations going on in secret, but no serious open ones in early 1760.
The Prussia
n king, for one, thought at least a gesture of goodwill would be an open invitation for a general peace Congress among the rival warring powers.28 The upshot was, nothing came out of negotiation in 1760 as far as actual substance, and the different warring parties ultimately prepared for yet another wearisome campaign.
The remnants of the last campaign lingered on as well. Marshal Daun, and the entire Austrian High Command for that matter, had had their fill of their Russian “partner,” and would henceforth be less than willing to undertake much on their behalf.29 The operational plan left no doubt of Austrian intentions, even so, there would have to be an immediate campaign waged in Silesia to win back fully that province while the king was kept occupied in Saxony.30 Laudon would be able to operate in Silesia all right,31 working as closely as possible with the Russians.32 The latter, for their part, were well pleased that Laudon was to command in Silesia this time around.33 Marshal Daun would operate in Saxony and try to keep the great Frederick in check with the resources at his disposal. As for Lacy, he jumped on board, resigning as the chief of staff to take up a field command again for what might be the last campaign of the war.34
There was mute testimony to the weakness of Prussia at this stage of the war that for the first time the allies commenced military operations directly in enemy country. When the campaign was shaping up, Frederick informed Prince Henry that he was to have charge of the forces on the Eastern side,35 from Landshut along the Bober and the Oder up to the Baltic Sea. For this task, he had all of 40,000 men. At the south, Fouquet held sway. The latter’s influence extended from Neisse jutting into enemy territory. His headquarters was at Landshut; the position there was strong, but seriously undermanned—only 13,000 men for garrison. Fouquet’s second-in-command was Goltz, with 5,500 men charged to defend the line between Jägerndorf and Troppau, with headquarters at Neustadt-Drossen. This composite body of fewer than 19,000 was opposed actively by some 32,000 Austrians behind the frontier. Their threat was very real.
Frederick the Great and the Seven Years' War Page 73
