However, there would also be no doubt about the importance the Russian Command attached to capturing the Baltic port of Colberg during this campaign.64 As far as the main Russian effort for 1761 was concerned, the bluecoats, thanks to the duplicity of the aforementioned Totleben, realized early on their concerted effort was to be made in Silesia. In conjunction with a large force of Austrians, to boot. Other than the effort directed against Colberg and the occasional raid, the Russians had limited military interests at this late stage of the game. And that included Brandenburg, for the most part.
For the Imperial Russian court, the Campaign of 1761 was even more important than usual. For the first time, the Russians had new guarantees of territorial gains as a direct result of their efforts in the war. The Austrians, against the backdrop of ever greater desperation to try to win the war before mutual exhaustion closed it out, and against their better judgment, had finally conceded the Russians would be allowed to retain East Prussia at the peace. Now the Austrians were careful to keep news of this provision from the French. Kaunitz & Company probably considered this a wise precaution. The French court in particular was very jealous and was simply not prepared to accept Russian “intrusion” into the heart of the European mainland. The Russians, for their part, had to be aware of the French determination not to allow what they viewed, at the best, as a partly Asiatic power on to the main stage of European power politics. What a state of affairs for the so-called “Allies,” and so much for any common interests they shared.
For her part, Maria Theresa did not like the idea of the Russian bear swallowing East Prussia any more than did Versailles. There was good reason for this. Both of the sovereign nations of France and Austria were leery of allowing a too powerful Russia right on their doorsteps. By this point, this kind of reasoning amounted to little more than accepting a fait accompli. There was really very little choice if the Russians were to remain active participants in the war. Thus the agreement was finalized by a new treaty of alliance, concluded on April 1, 1761, between the two weary continental powers of Austria and Russia. No one at the time would have suspected the effective life of the new agreement would be a mere eight months or so.
The implications of permitting Russia to become too powerful were obvious. Kaunitz even made the statement that “there could be more to fear from Russia [in time] than from the king of Prussia.”65 In this particular case, Kaunitz was spouting on a Europe past sickly Czarina Elizabeth’s time, when that great admirer of the Prussians and their king, future Czar Peter III, would be running Russia.
None of the foregoing took place in a vacuum.66 With Totleben still in the field during the winter, the Russians stayed in active military guise. Elements of Totleben’s command burst upon Greiffenberg and Rügenwalde (January 15).67 Encouraged by a measure of success in this initial effort, Totleben’s men put in an attack next against the Prussian post of Belgard hard-by Colberg (January 18). But the foe could not be so easily plied from this post, a part of the command of Lt.-Col. de Courbière. The latter was entrusted to defend a line of positions near the Wipper River, past Rügenwalde and Draheim.
But it remained a different kind of warfare in the depths of winter, and obviously no large-scale effort was possible under the prevailing weather conditions. The greencoats did manage to keep in the field, and finally fell out into positions between Treptow and Rügenwalde, in order to cover the immediate area from the trepidations of the Prussians.
The latter, too, was thus given a breathing space. The bluecoats wasted no time. Courbière, taking full advantage of the respite, took up a post hard-by Rega, while other Prussians under “Werner reestablished the line.”68 The sum of the troops holding that line was not over 3,000 men, but the bluecoats were fully prepared to defend their position. Part of their reason for keeping to the field was to exploit the resources of Mecklenburg and of the nearby territories to whatever extent possible.69 Ironically, it was this very circumstance that would propel the Prussians and the Swedes into a far more involved amount of maneuvering and fighting in the course of 1761 than had been true in previous campaigns. As for Totleben, he found himself in a position, in the first week of February, with good posts, but with the weather too adverse for sustained military operations. And a reinforced Prussian force under General Werner, consolidating in and about Colberg, gradually pressed Totleben back upon Stolpe. Being without support and somewhat isolated, Totleben hastily opened and concluded a truce with the Prussians opposite him (February 28).70
In order to help contain Totleben from positions before Colberg, the bluecoats had shifted part of their forces away from confronting the Swedish enemy from the North. Fortunately, a truce had earlier been concluded with the Swedes in Western Pomerania in December 1760.71 Meanwhile, though, Belling used the time to substantially increase the strength of his hussar unit. “[A] second battalion … [was raised] in Mecklenburg, and its third in Saxony.”72 This move enabled some of the Prussian forces in the field to retire on Stettin to rejoin the Duke of Brunswick-Bevern there.
Two grenadier battalions, and a force of hussars, regrouped at Stettin. Bevern was grimly determined to hold the port town.73 This because the post was considered to be essential for the Prussian interests in the area. And this endeavor, in the end, would be successful in spite of any possible joint allied effort between the Russians and the Swedes, which never came to pass on land during the war anyway.
In the meantime, though, the bluecoats had managed to build a useable flotilla again in Stettin Harbor, their first since 1759.74 This latest Prussian fleet boasted two galleys, the Preussen and the Schlesian, 12 guns each, and nine other vessels, all under the charge of Captain Christian Schmidt. The Prussian presence on the water was always subjunctive additions to their land armies. The king never saw much use in naval warfare anyway, except where it could help him out on land and the military operations of those specific units engaged in land warfare. Not so in other nations, especially in Northern Europe. The Swedes, as the dominant naval power in the Baltic Sea, promptly responded by sending a force of ships sailing from Stralsund into the Oder Haff to actively oppose their foe on the water. Of course, matters did not rest there. In their response, the captains of the Prussian vessels, suddenly confronted by this display of Swedish naval strength, wisely took an opportune breather to assess the current situation.
In short, during the month of April, both sides stayed quiescent across the Northern and the Eastern Fronts, although Belling could not refrain from securing both supplies and recruits from the areas he was close to, and in training his new formations for the coming battles with the enemy. By this time, it was clear, even to the densest of Prussians, that Colberg would again be a primary target for the Russians in this campaign, just as in 1760.75 With the ensuing developments in mind, the bluecoats spent every spare moment they had available stockpiling provisions and munitions for the port of Colberg. A major Prussian magazine was quickly built up about Treptow, with a second hard-by Malchin. Between them, the two supply depots were expected to meet the often voracious Prussian supply needs of ammo and food in the immediate vicinity for the coming campaign.
However, these locations also offered tempting, vulnerable targets for the slowly gathering Swedish army, which was preparing to make a sortie of their own against them. During the month of July and the early part of August, the Swedes and Prussians would sure scuffle over those two magazines. Meanwhile, the Russians, who did not bother to conceal their intended descent upon Colberg, started building up a supply depot of their own at Konitz. Prussian patrols inevitably detected this latest development, although there was little attempt to do much at the moment in the area about it. Nor were the greencoats putting all of their eggs into one proverbial basket. To hedge their bet, an additional supply depot erected at Friedland had the added bonus of being very convenient for the Russian field armies.
As for Marshal Daun, for him the campaign opened rather anticlimactically. February 12, Daun accepted the chief com
mand of the Austrian army, with some reluctance.76 At the same time, he had to acknowledge the increasing influence of others, particularly of Laudon, and what impact this would have on future Austrian campaign plans. It was a reasonable certainty that the king would be in supreme Prussian command in Silesia, facing the combined might of the Russians and the Austrians of Laudon.77 (One of Daun’s chief tasks was to hold the Prussian king himself in Saxony, which would mean consigning Prince Henry to Silesia, but that effort was altogether futile.) Indeed, Prince Henry had made it clear that the only way he would return to the army was as an independent commander.78 The king, after a suitable interval, would be only too happy to have Henry back in the fold among his ever shrinking list of suitable commanders.
For the Allies, one important point was evident. Close cooperation between the two allies, if applied with the right kind of pressure and energy, would have doomed Frederick’s Prussia. That much was certain. But old Marshal Daun wanted to throw his own twist into the mix. In a marked turnaround from the plans of cooperating with the Russians in advancing as a single body, Daun now sought permission from the powers that be to operate his Austrian army as a fully independent force which did not rely so much upon the movements/plans of the other Allied forces. This would free up, to the extent possible, the various Allied commands as they operated in their own individual spheres of influence. In turn, this would make the task of the Prussians, with forces clearly inferior in number, that much more difficult to carry out. If Daun could not secure his plan wholeheartedly, he at least sought to send a detachment to try to join up with the greencoats over towards Brandenburg, where the task force could operate more or less independently of Marshal Laudon. Daun did not want to advance the cause of Laudon in any way if he could help it. What was worse, the marshal had uttered—and apparently also ascribed to—the notion that, in order to help contribute to the final Allied victory over the Prussian king, they needed twice the number of men at their beck and call as the enemy had access to.
By even the most conservative estimate, based upon the aggregate Prussian strength at 127,000 men, this would mean the Allies must assemble more than a quarter of a million men within immediate striking range in order to achieve the goal. As a measuring barometer, the entire Austrian armed force throughout the nation did not match up to that quantity. There was no help to be expected from France or Russia in this respect either. A number like this was not even feasible at this late stage of the very long, very costly war.79 Nor was this the marshal’s only “insightful” thought at that point by any means. Daun also stated the Austrian commanders should be chosen with care, but, once chosen and put in charge, should be supported through a united effort, instead of being “raked over the proverbial coals” at every opportunity.80
The preceding was another clear indictment of the fundamental lack of cooperation among the Austrian commanders. A nearly constant state of agitation at times. This could not help but inhibit (if not outright cripple) the Austrian plans. Over in the Prussian camp, on the other hand, while deep divisions still existed within and among the various levels of command, the over powering presence of the king’s personality helped mitigate any real disunity either within the army itself or within the various Prussian plans produced by that same body. The Austrians at this stage could really have benefitted from the leadership of a strong-willed commander like the Prussian monarch. This was a need never fulfilled during this war in the Austrian camp.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Opening Salvoes in Silesia; Allied Union Realized
In the event, the campaign in Silesia had commenced. Laudon, leading a force of about 40,000 men at that point, announced boldly to General Goltz (April 19) that the truce previously arranged during the winter was due to expire within a few days. Goltz had a slightly smaller force of about 24,000 men with him.
The Austrians were the first to get going. Laudon was careful to pile in his men hard-by Glatz, while another force, under General Draskovitch, itself acting as an independent body, had trundled into Reichenstein (April 15). There were also other bodies of Austrians close at hand, like Bethlen, who arrived at Kunzendorf (April 18), while Laudon himself, full of hope and with a reasonable expectation of success, was preparing to open the main campaign. Meanwhile, General Goltz, for his part, with the new campaign unfolding, gathered his men at and about the anchor fortress of Schweidnitz.
The Austrians had duly invaded Silesia, on April 23, after their truce expired, seeking a knockout of the bluecoat forces ensconced in the embattled province. The whitecoat forces were divided into three separate formations in order to expedite their encroachment. Great hopes were pinned on Laudon and on his apparent ability to close out the current campaign with success. Not only by the leadership in Vienna, but also in Versailles.1 Not to mention in St. Petersburg.
General Wolfersdorfe rolled forward from the Trautenau area, skirting Liebau and reaching Landshut, while General Ellrichshausen’s leading elements occupied the rises of Waldichen. Wolfersdorfe had two infantry and two cavalry regiments present with him, Draskovitch carrying along three infantry and four cavalry regiments, while Ellrichshausen kept six infantry and four grenadier battalions at his disposal.2 Laudon brought the main power of his strike force issuing from Friedland over on Waldenburg. In the latter column, were ten full infantry and six cavalry regiments. The Austrian invasion was determined, so General Goltz took about the only option open to him under the circumstances. He packed ten full battalions of his men, along with ten squadrons, under the charge of the Prince of Bernburg, on the Zeiskenberg, while General Thadden (with seven squadrons of horse and two grenadier battalions) hugged a post about Hohenfriedeberg. Major-General Friedrich Wilhelm von Thile kept four battalions and six cavalry squadrons on the rises, not to mention his pickets pushed out, over at Oberkunzendorf, and watching all the while for suspicious Austrian activity. In this condition, Goltz’ command could both safeguard the nearby defiles and help hold Silesia if at all possible. The Prussians could only hope for the best here.
In the meantime, the enemy had begun to move. Draskovitch pressed off, on April 25, on a bearing straight at Silberberg and Frankenstein. Goltz responded by marching to Kunzendorf leaning over at Kamerau (April 27). Laudon’s impetuous nature would likely have gotten the better of him right then and there, but Vienna would soon change his tune. The upshot was, Laudon would advance no further at the moment. The bluecoats were pleasantly surprised at this development. April 29, once it was clear that Laudon had been bridled for the moment, Goltz backed away as discreetly as possible from the vicinity of the Austrians. We should note here, Goltz did not even think about an active engagement of arms. The king generally took a dim view of army commanders going out on their own, without orders. As a result, new Prussian posts were occupied hard about Hohenfriedeberg and Reichenbach by the returning command of General Goltz.
In the campaign’s early stages, the Austrians were certainly tempted here and all. The urge to fight was strong. However, Laudon’s usual aggressive nature was modified somewhat by the instructions of his government, which told him, in no uncertain terms, to avoid a major altercation with the foe until the main body of the Russians could draw near enough to support his designs. Laudon was also cognizant that his eastern allies would expect the Austrians to keep at least some ready provisions on hand for them to draw upon. (As it would ultimately work out, the Russians were expecting to be kept supplied virtually throughout the campaign, all at Austrian expense and effort.3)
This scenario compelled Laudon to put on the brakes until the greencoats could come forward. As much as he disliked the idea, the Austrian commander required an interval from military activity. The bluecoats, on their side, used the pause to better prepare for what was to come. Thus, as it worked out, an enforced pause in the proceedings was mutually beneficial to both sides.
Meanwhile, the rest of the combatants were preparing. The king, with the enemy finally stirring, issued orders for his main force to
head for Silesia to hold off Laudon, whom he felt certain had designs upon Schweidnitz, rightly so as it turned out.4 About May 3, the main bluecoat army pressed off from Meissen and vicinity, some 50,000 strong (33 battalions and 63 squadrons of horse), bound for Silesia and what the monarch hoped would be a decisive battle thereabouts. It had always been Frederick’s desire to seek out a decisive battle with the Austrians before their Russian allies could make their presence felt.
His army eagerly pressed across the Elbe at Strehlen and pushed on to meet Goltz about Hohenfriedeberg. Enemy resistance was comparatively light in relation to their numbers in the area. May 9, the Prussian main body was at Görlitz. Any hopes of a signature action were left unfulfilled, and, when in Mid-May, the bluecoats reached the area, Laudon took his cue and drew back upon Braunau, upon chatter that the king’s arrival was imminent, putting his new headquarters at Halbstadt in the meanwhile.5 Laudon’s own body of men took up post about Hauptmannsdorf, but Draskovitch took post hard about Warta leaning back on Silberberg, on May 12. Frederick paused, gathering up reinforcements to prepare for the anticipated Russian offensive. His army rolled into Priswitz on May 13, while his scouts reached Schweidnitz, armed with orders from the king, to try to find out more about the state of affairs thereabouts. The main Royal headquarters were now set up at Hohenfriedeberg, and the main body finally got into Kunzendorf (May 16). In this post, the main Prussian force deployed about 41,600 infantry, 15,120 cavalry, and 1,000 artillery personnel, for a total of 57,720 men all told.6 Now Laudon, for his part, had taken steps to “encourage” Buturlin forward, by “dispatching a trustworthy general, Caramelli, to the Russian camp.”7 General Caramelli was to do his best to get the Russians forward to the scene as soon as possible; he arrived at the Russian camp in late May. No mean feat with an army accustomed to taking its time about marching. Nor was Caramelli the only Austrian “aide” in the Russian camp, of course. It happened that Major-General Fine had been the Austrian attaché to the Russian field army for years.
Frederick the Great and the Seven Years' War Page 91
