Nugent advanced upon the works in front of him, turning out their occupiers after a brief altercation. But then a single Prussian regiment, the 3rd Infantry of Anhalt-Bernburg, launched a timely counterattack. The oncoming rush hit Nugent’s men in front and rear; that was enough. He ordered his men to disengage, but the force of the blow was too swift. Nugent and 200 of his men were left behind as P.O.W.’s. (Total Austrian prisoners likely amounted to over 600 in this endeavor).33 Bernburg’s success was short lived, however. When the 1,000-man unit was struck by the newcomers from Daun, four times stronger in number than they, call went out for reinforcements. But the king had not expected the enemy to appear there in such strength, so none were at hand. So the gradual weight of numbers compelled the gallant regiment to gradually retire. After it had withdrawn, a battery it had been protecting fell into Austrian hands. Meanwhile, a new Prussian battery, facing the North side of the Saxon capital, commenced its deadly work as well, July 23.
Finally, the belated reinforcements arrived, they attacked and drove the enemy off again, following up in their wake and bagging more Austrians as prisoners. The king was beside himself when he learned of the debâcle with the Bernburg regiment; a unit which he promptly removed from his favor, demoting it to garrison duty, along with other sanctions carried out against the unfortunate men.34 All of this along with the “loss of their sidearms and emblems on their coats and hats.”35 It was a tough knock, but the regiment would ultimately redeem itself in time. Meanwhile, Prussian supply efforts, carried out in wagons largely from Patschlappel, that made their way over and back to supply the artillery batteries scattered across the Prussian lines, was haphazard at best. On the morning of July 25, though, a brand-new bluecoat battery presented itself to the enemy’s gaze at Juden-Teich. Fortunately, by this time, the siege efforts were already doomed, for all practical purposes.
For communicating with MacGuire, the marshal had constructed three small bridges, over and above the Town Bridge. It is not difficult to figure out why he did not come over the Elbe himself when we consider his cautious nature. He could have undoubtedly upset the whole course of the siege. Disdaining a personal involvement, Daun put renewed pressure upon Lacy and Zweibrücken to do something. The marshal, to be fair, did indeed send out a few detachments of irregulars—as did his subordinates—these kept the bluecoats busy containing the threat. Scouting detachments probed toward Torgau, picking up some Prussian supply boats (a total of 17 vessels), all loaded with supplies, causing concern in the Prussian camp. Another 15 boats were captured near Riesa, by Lt.-Col. Friedrich Graf Dönhoff. That was not the full extent of Dönhoff’s exploits, either. He also made heavy inroads on the Prussian ammunition. He attacked a Prussian patrol, made some captives, and “blew up nearly 100 tons of powder.”36 Such loss of supply and the damage inflicted had to drastically impact the Prussian war efforts. From about July 24, the general pace of the bombardment was abated. As the king succinctly put it, on this occasion “the book of Fate was stacked against the Prussians retaking the Saxon capital.”37 By now the Prussian king knew that his effort before Dresden was a wholly wasted one. Once deciding this, he faced the problem of disengaging his army from the doomed enterprise. To demonstrate the danger that he faced, enemy Pandours frequently rode with abandon into and around the Prussian lines. About July 26, the ongoing shelling was reduced to the workings of a single Prussian battery. The besieged, as an aside, continued to at least resist valiantly. About 0100 hours, on July 27, Captain Garcia—from Infantry Regiment Clerici—attacked a Prussian force in the Pirna Suburb, and beat them back. There were a number of other limited scale actions. There was good reason for this. The Prussians were slowly beginning to disengage from the proceedings. Some batteries were being dismantled now. Most of the other batteries were by this date either gone already or were about to be dismantled. That day definitive orders were issued to break up the siege equipment and get the army prepared to depart. Meissen was the marching destination. These preparations took three days to complete.
The war had been progressing elsewhere, in the meantime. The news from Silesia was not encouraging: Fouquet’s force had been decimated at Landshut; and Laudon was moving against Glatz and was next expected against Breslau. Frederick, in short, decided that his presence was required there to restore a rapidly deteriorating situation in Silesia.
Besides which, as he was faced by MacGuire north of him and Daun and Lacy/Zweibrücken on other sides, he was virtually surrounded by his enemies. July 28 the final preparations were complete and the following day, at dusk, there arose a joyfire from the enemy lines. A little after, the Prussians learned the cause of the celebration: Glatz had fallen to Laudon three days earlier. What a bit of news, and not calculated in any way to increase the hopes of the bluecoats. That night, while the Prussian sentries walked their appointed posts until the last moment, the army got on its feet and filed out of the entrenchments and works surrounding the Saxon capital. The troops stole off during the night, their head, pointed at Meissen. The Prussians rolled across the Weistritz and occupied Kesselsdorf, while the king put up a temporary headquarters at Unkersdorf. The Austrians did not discover the foe had vanished until dawn on July 30. If they did discover the event before that, they made no attempt to interfere.
That, then, was the Siege of Dresden, which occurred between July 12, when the Prussians began crossing the Elbe at Kaditz with a siege in mind, and July 29, when Frederick marched off in the dead of night. Seventeen days of hard, miserable siege warfare, with no gain for the king or his army. A total failure and another allied success in a growing string of victories over Frederick in this long war.38 Austrian/Imperialist losses amounted to 697 (of which 182 were dead and 435 wounded). Prussian losses were 1,478 killed and wounded, along with 261 prisoners.39 Total artillery rounds fired by the besieged amounted to 27,704.40 Six of Dresden’s stately churches were also laid in ruins. There was more. A total of 416 buildings were totally destroyed during the siege all while “damaging 115 more in this baroque gem.”41 As one source offered, “sieges at large, and especially Prague in 1757 (but also other actions), should have demonstrated to the king already that a large garrison would not surrender just by a bombardment.”42
The siege also marked the last genuine attempt by the king to regain Dresden during the Seven Years’ War. The effects of the siege lingered long after the fact. Archenholtz, writing years later (but before 1793), wrote emphatically, “the buildings have been rebuilt; but Dresden is no longer what it was.”43 Daylight of July 30, Frederick headed northwards, sending a detachment, under General Hülsen, of 10,000 men, to Schlettau. There he was to act as a buffer against Zweibrücken, and to prevent him from reconquering Saxony while the king was busy in Silesia.44 Clouds of refugees choked the roads round about Dresden.45
Next day, July 31, his Majesty moved his men to Scheritz (near Meissen) without having entered that place at all. As his legions moved from the walls of the Saxon capital, Frederick’s opponent pulled conveniently out of the way. Daun was just a few miles ahead, while Lacy, coming up behind, trailed on his heels with his troops. To an uninformed eye, it might appear that the allies were escorting the Prussian king to a planned rendezvous with Prince Henry. Daun, of course, was authorized to prevent that very thing. Yet the clouds that now hung over Silesia were dark indeed, for Laudon had been busy there and the Russians as well. Meanwhile, the Northern Front was warming up again.46 The Allies may have been wondering how the Swedes were impacting the war. The French, who were still bankrolling the Swedish effort, had been legitimately, and by no means rhetorically, asking the question: “What can be expected of the Swedish army?”47 In line with this, it must be stated the Swedish effort so far had been subpar. The Swedish court was busy trying to both justify its subsidies as well as contribute in a meaningful way to the allied effort to finally win the war. Their opponents had not exactly been inactive. Either against them or their Russian allies. Major Podewils was sent out from Stettin in early M
arch with some 1,600 men, of whom about 400 were cavalry. He pressed first on Armswalde (March 12), forcing a small body of Russian Cossacks to abscond. Pressing onwards towards Tempelburg, on March 16, Podewils’ men attacked and rolled over a Russian position hard-by. The Prussian moved on towards Belgard, and spent about a week doing his best to clear out the remaining vestiges of Russian and Swedish forces from the immediate vicinity. March 25, the bluecoats were at Koszalin, where they were opposed by a Russian force under Colonel Podgoritschanin. Podgoritschanin was not in the mood to dispute the enemy’s advance, and promptly fell back on Stolp. Then, uniting his command with another Russian force under Major Ceeckly, the stubborn colonel marched with some enthusiasm towards Pollnow.48
At Rummelsburg, on the way, the greencoats suddenly encountered Podewils’ men, who promptly plowed into the Russians and forced them, after a short encounter, to fall back in the direction of Konitz. Podewils advanced upon Waldau, and this was directly threatening the Russian influence in General Totleben’s sphere. The latter strode forth from Konitz to oppose this effort. Podewils neatly sidestepped on to Rügenwalde, over by Köslin. This move did leave the Prussian temporarily cut off from help, although, by April 3, he had skillfully extricated his command back to Koszalin. Podewils was aided in this endeavor by pressing through a passage of the Gradow River about Preester.
The singular successes of the major and his band could not conceal the fact that Russian strength was quickly increasing in Pomerania. In response, Prince Henry sent General Grabow to reinforce the bluecoats in the province with two infantry battalions and a grenadier battalion. Now the Russians of Totleben were also being reinforced, this in preparation to make a major effort during the Campaign 1760.49 About which more momentarily.
In short order, the Prussians in Pomerania were led by General Forcade, some seven full battalions and 16 squadrons of horse, along with twelve 12-pounder and 12 6-pounder guns. The Prussians of General Platen struck early on May 14, to attack a Russian force at Barwald under General Krastnotschhokoff. Although the blow was initially repelled, the greencoats subsequently fell back on Kudde and Hammerstein. Platen hinted at an enemy magazine base at Könitz, but there was time only for a glance in that direction before a reinforced Russian task force rolled forward. Platen fell back (May 17), leaving New Szezecin and Rummelsburg.
The Prussians took post from Oramburg, back on Novenberg, over by Falkenburg, where Platen was posted. Over by Belgard, was deployed General Grabow with ties towards Driesen and Woldenburg. Grabow was given instructions to begin to assemble his men. In a broader scope, General Forcade was assembling his troops to prepare to defend Colberg. A Russian force under Lieutenant Brinken moved towards Belgard on May 30. The commanding officer Lukofkin kept to Krahenkrug, pressing towards Koszalin, where the bluecoats had a small force under Major Benkendorf. The Russians were increasing in strength almost daily, and the Prussians were making preparations to defend against a major effort against Pomerania.50
An attack against Koszalin was beaten back, but an untimely sortie by Benkendorf to go to the aid of some of the bluecoat cavalry ended in a sharp repulse. The bluecoats backed off. Russian losses were 100 rank-and-file and two officers.51 Then, however, Grabow was ordered to leave Koszalin. General Forcade then ordered Grabow to ramp-up a defense over by Belgard. A Russian attack upon that place (June 3) compelled the Prussians to abandon the place. Russian forces menaced Grabow, ensconced in Körlitz. Other Russian forces were busy descending upon Colberg, which was about to endure another of its three sieges in this war.52 A Russian force of hard riding cavalry, led by Colonel Schwanenberg,53 arrived in the vicinity of the port (late in July). Schwanenberg took post hard-by at Bull-Winkel, where Prussian scouts reported to Commandant Heyde on the presence of the greencoats.
Chapter Forty-One
Maneuvering in Silesia Prior to Liegnitz
On August 1, Frederick crossed the Elbe with his army. Near Zehren (some five miles from Meissen) the Prussian advance guard began crossing at about 0200 hours against no opposition. The whole journey took just three hours to complete. The king then ordered his men to head eastwards to Dallwitz (northward of the Elbe), where they encamped. The bluecoats took up main post at Gross-Döbritz, with the right leaning upon Wantewitz. Though the nearness of the enemy was apparent, the king ordered a pause to wait on the army’s baggage train, lasting the rest of the day and the next. Just after midnight, August 3, the Prussian camp was astir, about 0200 hours, the bluecoats were marching for Bunzlau.1 This time, in three distinct columns. The marching column to the left and the middle would form the battle lines in case of need. The guns were lugged between and with their respective “owners,” and, in typical style, the light cavalry formed the vanguard on the march. Ziethen’s hussars and Courbière’s light troops were prominent here, riding in front of the Prussian left column. Normann’s Dragoons and the Krockow Dragoons, leading off the second column, encountered some enemy interference, but nothing serious; they performed the same duty for the second column. Finally, the third column was protected by a thick screen of the Duke of Holstein’s Dragoons. Advancing with this impressive caravan, were the auxiliary units, the supply wagons, of more than a 1,000 total, plus the artillery, and pontoon wagons in front of the whole ensemble to cross any appropriate body of water as quickly as possible. The crowd paused to encamp across the Pulsnitz with the right leaning upon Königsbrück and with Koitsch to the left. This was the beginning of one of the most noteworthy accomplishments of the Prussian king’s career, not to mention of Marshal Daun’s, dubbed the “Famous March” by some.2 A 100-mile romp from near Meissen over towards Jauer in some six days. We could look at what led up to it.
Daun, following the relief of Dresden, had made for Bischofswerda and Reichenbach. The marshal’s men reached Neukretschau, leaving Prince Löwenstein (in command of the Austrian reserves) off at Reichenbach; the last step mostly a precaution in case the crafty king chose to backtrack. From there, he tried to accomplish all that he could so as to the concern of blocking the roads the Prussians were planning to use. Early on August 5, the main Austrian army moved to Schriebersdorf, while the left occupied Giebsdorf, with the right hitching into Hennersdorf. Daun’s men were at least alert to the various tricks the king was capable of. In view of the rapidly changing circumstances, the Austrians could not afford the luxury of inactivity. Frederick had determined to sweep by Kamenz and Bautzen straight at Bunzlau.3 Lacy, like Daun, was of a mind to impede the foe. He hitched into Geblitz (August 5) and, next day, to Görlitz. But the allies really did nothing on this whole march. On August 4, the Prussians intercepted some letters from Daun which were addressed to Lacy, but they did not contain any substantial intelligence. The following day, the bluecoats moved towards Doberschütz and bivouacked for the night at Ober-Rothwasser. That evening, and on the following day, August 6, hundreds of Prussian troops took the opportunity to make a break for it in the thick woods. Dozens more had been lost over the course of the preceding week from heat stroke, exhaustion, etc. There was mass discouragement, men did not long relish giving up their lives for a cause likely lost. Not to mention the grinding energy expended on all of this marching, the distances and duration of which exceeded what soldiers of the day, with rudimentary means of transportation, were used to.4
Following that, the army took the road from Königsbrück/Kamenz and from there passed on, attaining Bunzlau. On August 7, the bluecoats were in strength at the latter place; there was a pause now. The Austrians were on the move, as well. Lacy pressed on Mark-Lissa, while General Ried was unbuckled without ceremony upon Haugsdorf. Marshal Daun and his satellite forces were slowly closing a ‘ring of fire,’ so to speak, about the Prussian cause as well as its main army. August 9, 0200 hours, Frederick’s men were on the move again, in three distinct columns this time around, heading for the Katzbach valley. His troops reached their destination about 1700 hours, after a grueling march of some 15 hard miles.
But the march was wit
hout interference from the erstwhile active enemy, who were on all sides of the position by then. Even at this point, however, Frederick was still some 17 miles from Jauer and about 14 from the soon to be memorable, again, battlefield of Liegnitz.5 The Austrians were closing in fast. Lacy at this time was present at the rises about Goldberg (a quick reconnaissance showed clearly that he was too strong to be dislodged). Across the valley, the masses of Daun’s army were visible, drawn out and evidently intending to dispute Frederick’s progress, upon Jauer, where he was now aiming. As a reserve, Laudon had been detached with some 35,000 men. He was further back on the road to Jauer. Quite clearly, Jauer was out of Frederick’s reach for now, and his supplies (at this stage enough only to last for some eight days) were critically low.
If Jauer could not be had, the direct road to the two Prussian magazines in Silesia, at Schweidnitz and at Breslau, was cut off. Unable to go the direct approach, Frederick chose instead to go for Liegnitz on the morrow. If indeed he was not attacked during the night by the numerically superior enemy and smashed out. From the latter it was his intention to go across the Katzbach either at Liegnitz or at Parchwitz and proceed for Breslau. With his decision made, Frederick encamped for the night in the western Katzbach country. He was surrounded on virtually every hand and there appeared but slim prospect of successfully carrying on the war. Some of the king’s own people began to despair of hope, believing Prussia doomed. But, as for Frederick, he would never give way until he had played his final trump card.
Frederick the Great and the Seven Years' War Page 78
