Frederick the Great and the Seven Years' War

by Herbert J. Redman

  The frayed king had 16 battalions and 30 cavalry squadrons with him, but he could not get the enemy to stand and show a fight. In the interim, Ziethen fell away and joined up with Frederick hard-by Kunzendorf. There was a detachment of men left by the king to hold Öppersdorf (the latter commanded by General Franz Karl Ludwig Wied zu Neuwied). Laudon was too close for comfort, but Frederick failed to be drawn against Bethlen and Draskovitch, which would insensibly open the way for Buturlin to break across the Oder at Leubus.

  This would certainly bring the greencoats near enough to affect a juncture with Laudon, if practical. To help guard against any complications, though, Laudon was careful enough to keep other detachments underfoot. Luzinsky had been pressed off to Hassenberg, while Jahnus, careful to keep close enough for a juncture if needed, deployed from Ziegenthal. Laudon himself bundled backwards all the while to a more secure location at Weidenau.

  Frederick (July 31) left off old Ziethen to maintain the post at Neustadt, while he took the rest of the army on to Öppersdorf. General Knobloch was forthwith ordered to leave the area of Schurgast and march to join the main royal army. The bluecoats were trying to get assembled as closely as possible before their enemies could join hands.

  Laudon, fully aware of the Prussian forces being so close at hand, made for a line by Bartsdorf and Hausdorf, while his scouts swarmed round the Prussian camp, in the process creating a great deal of excitement, to make it appear like the whitecoats might at last be emerging for a brawl. Yet more of the Deceiver! Meanwhile, General Draskovitch retreated forthwith towards Olmütz back in Moravia. The Austrian force of Brentano hardly flexed a muscle, still safely deployed behind the barrier of the Neisse River. Buturlin with the Russians was in motion, though, August 1, his men finally occupied Bernstadt. The next day, with word of this development reaching Laudon’s ears, the latter promptly issued marching instructions. The Austrian commander was bound and determined to finally rendezvous with Buturlin as soon as possible, not to mention under the most favorable circumstances possible. Late on August 2, the whitecoats got into Patschkau, while Brentano at long last rose from his camp and occupied Pomsdorf.

  The Prussians were also in movement for their part. Ziethen (August 2) reached Jägerndorf. Now the king was fully cognizant of the Allies and of their various attempts to link up, so he instructed Knobloch to march with a task force over by Breslau, while Ziethen tumbled back again to Neustadt. Laudon, responding to all of this activity, fell away to Patschkau (August 3). On the same day, Buturlin’s advanced elements got into Kriechten. Frederick, perhaps sensing the time for his two enemy armies to try to unite, drew off to Giesmannsdorf, while dispatching Ziethen to Öppersdorf. Bluecoat reconnaissance teams, meanwhile, picked up on rumors about Laudon taking the main body of his men to Zoltsch-Krestschaun, no doubt with the ultimate goal of joining Buturlin about Strehlen. The worried king issued orders to try to intercept the “sneaky” Laudon. The whole Prussian host was subsequently pushed off, in three columns once again, towards the rises of Schönbrunn. Following a rigorous march of nearly 35 miles, under the conditions of a very seasonal humid summer day no less, the exhausted Prussian main body fell out into a line between Schönbrunn and Niklausdorf, where Ziethen was standing vigil, fully at the alert.

  Meanwhile, right under the noses of the bluecoat reconnaissance parties, Laudon, with the latest effort to affect a juncture now an unbridled failure, fell away, back to the familiar quarters of Baumgarten. The king was still in a quandary, but he never considered the situation hopeless so long as he could keep his army in being. But there was a problem he was now confronting head on. Notably, even at this critical stage, the monarch was still in the dark for any concrete information regarding Laudon and his main army. Nor was this particular one his only enemy.

  The Russians on their side were in motion as well, almost belatedly. August 5, Buturlin made for Hunsfeld, hoping to find a link to Laudon thereabouts. Frederick, with his options being slowly whittled away almost daily, pressed forthwith towards Strehlau. Buturlin almost timidly approached the Silesian capital, early on August 6, then, after making a weak attempt to secure the surrender of the place by negotiation, laid down an artillery barrage against Breslau. This had little effect, and it was not long before Buturlin got cold feet and bolted for Trebnitz, pausing for the evening at Peterswitz and a secure location in the Silesian rises.

  The Prussian patrols reported to the anxious king that the greencoats, even with their sluggish maneuvering, were putting all of Eastern Silesia, and most particularly the fortress at Glogau, in danger. With that revelation, Knobloch was kept in near proximity to Buturlin, with the Prussian commander keeping to a high level of alert, necessary under the circumstances even with an enemy like the generally lethargic Russian army. The king dispatched General Platen over to join Knobloch to help keep Breslau secure. The Austrians were not in static mode either. Laudon pressed on Bögendorf, before pausing outside of Schweidnitz at and about Freiburg. His orders to satellite formations caused Jahnus to go occupy Burkersdorf, again right by Schweidnitz. General Brentano, waken from slumber hard about Heinrichau, was content to go grab Striegau (August 9).

  The Austrians were by now, with all these different marches, very near to the great fortress; General Karl Anton Leopold von Zastrow, the commandant of Schweidnitz, sent an alarming intelligence on August 10 that the enemy appeared to be lining up to make another attempt to capture the great fortress and its surroundings.29 The true extent of the Austrian intentions remained unknown to the royal headquarters, but the king did order the necessary precautions. General Knobloch was instructed to move with all dexterity of purpose to Kanth (Night of August 9–10). This even before Zastrow’s missive. Moreover, the very next day, Frederick brought his main body to join up with Knobloch about Kanth.

  The greencoats were hard at it again. Buturlin, on August 11, rolled into Kreidel, pushing General Cherneyshev and his task force over to Damm. The latter had passed the Oder at and about Leubus (August 10), and this fact was communicated to the Prussian monarch as soon as it was confirmed. The king assumed that the Russians meant to press on at once across the Oder to try to seize the Silesian capital. One more time.

  Frederick had no way of knowing that Buturlin was threatening to bail out of the whole project before his main body had even passed the Oder. Laudon, who had finally heard communication from Caramelli that a single corps of the greencoats had just crossed the Oder, had immediately after sent up General Botta to find out firsthand Buturlin’s next move. Botta found the Russian commander wavering in his resolve, in doubt about even advancing any further into Silesia. Botta had to do nothing less than to assure the vacillating Russian commander of “his [Laudon’s] power to effect a junction … that induced Boutourlin [sic], on the 12th, to resume his forward movement.”30

  But the veil continued over the enemy’s activities, and this sure put the bluecoats in a predicament. Frederick could not possibly attack Laudon over at Hohenfreidberg; for the combination of Laudon’s numbers and the strength of that post precluded the Prussians any legitimate opportunity to overcome the whitecoats in such a scenario.

  This compelled Frederick to try some attempt at deceptive military intelligence of his own making. He dispersed his army, deliberating trying to hide its true strength between Kanth over towards Schimmelwitz and Polsnitz. The increasingly anxious monarch was hoping that Laudon would want to show a fight if the conditions favored him enough, or at least appeared to. All the Austrian commander did was to fall back to a point hard about Hohenkunzendorf, back towards the great fortress of Schweidnitz, his army and himself, and took up post, still waiting for the arrival of Buturlin’s greencoats.

  Now Laudon sent the Russians a message to try to join up near Schweidnitz instead. August 11–12, the Russian army left the immediate vicinity of Breslau behind and crossed the Oder at Auras-Lebus. The king, as expected, raced after him, marching (August 12) towards Grosse Teintitz and Liegnitz, in four separate proces
sions this time around, probing all the while for Laudon and seeking to pick a fight with him before the Russians arrived. The effort, though valiant, would prove to be in vain.

  Pulling up short at Lonig, Frederick deployed his left over at Tschammendorf and his right on Niedermoys. Reconnaissance parties, peeling off from the army over on Obermoys and vicinity, were trying in their turn to deceive the enemy patrols and Laudon about the strength and position of the royal army. Again, this was done to try to entice Laudon into a battle before the greencoats could get there. Laudon was simply refusing the bait.

  The Prussians, meanwhile, were earnestly seeking for signs of Buturlin’s forward progress. General Schmettau, with his command out probing from Neumarkt over towards Breslau, was certainly perplexed that the only evidence of Buturlin’s command thereabouts were a number of Cossack patrols. He soon sent a message to that effect to the royal headquarters, expressing his confident belief that the Russians were still beyond the Oder. Fortunately, the king knew better than that.

  Nonetheless, the worried monarch, who was himself bewildered, sent off General Möllendorf, whom we last discerned in the evening of the great battle at Torgau, to try to find out just what was going on. Möllendorf’s route up the Katzbach discovered the truth. At the little hamlet of Polnisch Schildern, astride the road to Liegnitz and Neumarkt, Möllendorf located a large detachment of greencoats. There was no mistaking this particular point.

  The Austrians were also aware of the belated Russian appearance. General Brentano was unbuckled without delay to the rise of the Spitzberg, overlooking Striegau. At the latter place, Laudon had seen good to send Ellrichshausen and his men. The whitecoats were trying their best here to draw the different detachments together in the event of a major tussle. Laudon himself stayed put about Hohenkunzendorf all the while, trying his best to oversee this massive endeavor.

  Meanwhile, the bluecoat patrols continued to provide vague, contradictory reports to the royal headquarters about the location of those pesky Russians. While Möllendorf was sending reports that Buturlin was already across the Oder, Schmettau stood by his earlier supposition that the greencoats were as yet on the opposite side of the Oder. This is a curious situation, for Silesia was very familiar territory to the Prussian scouts, unlike Poland, where Ziethen’s own patrols sure had let him down. By the late afternoon of August 12, Prussian reconnaissance teams finally confirmed that Buturlin was present with his army on the near side of the Oder, making at best pace for Panten and the Liegnitz area, closer than ever to Laudon’s formations.

  The king’s reaction was to pull back on Lonig, in which position the bluecoat army appeared to be threatening an assault directly against Buturlin’s Russian horde. Once more, Frederick’s gaze was still fixed on Laudon, with perhaps a corner of one eye reserved for Buturlin. The Prussian leader through it all still held out the hope that Laudon would move off of the rises hard about Hohenfriedberg and swing into the valley below, where his Austrian force might be met for a decisive battle before Buturlin could directly become factored into the equation.

  Laudon refused to show his hand, although he fretted that Buturlin did not see too much urgency about closing up for his part of the deal. The bluecoats could therefore concentrate against his force, leaving mere space to deal with the very sluggish Buturlin.

  It appeared that Laudon had already occupied Jauer, and was now in the immediate vicinity in the valley. Actually, this time, the Prussian scouts had fumbled the ball, for Laudon was not at Jauer at all—at least not at the moment. Responding to the faulty intelligence, Frederick pulled up short at Jenkau, with the vanguard making for Behrsdorf (August 13). The anxious king kept his men ready, because he wanted to be in a position to lunge at Laudon whenever the Austrian command was precisely located. In any event, Frederick by this stage was convinced that he must cross the Weidebach River and launch an assault at first light upon the Austrian positions, wherever they happened to be found.

  So it was with some degree of surprise when the bluecoat reconnaissance parties, just before dawn on August 14, reported that there was no wholesale movement of the whitecoats at all. The only Austrian formations in activity appeared to be light patrols, for the main part of Laudon’s main force was still ensconced on the rises of Hohenfriedberg. The Austrian camp fires were proof enough of that. Other scouts probing towards Striegau returned with similar intelligence about the Brentano-Ellrichshausen combo. The conclusion was inevitable: there would be no early morning attack upon Laudon’s army in the valley. His men were still on the rises above. Even the normally very aggressive Prussian king did not feel so reckless as to try that kind of enterprise.

  But the Prussians had to act. Frederick, in his turn, had no choice. Besides, any hope of drawing Laudon out for a finish fight were now dashed. Orders were issued and the discouraged army forthwith returned to Lonig. The position there was reoccupied, with the Prussian left now at Peicherwitz and the right hugging Dromsdorf. A task force under General Gablenz at once removed to Kanth to take up a secure post thereabouts, and a part of Ziethen’s command galloped to take up post about Merschütz, there to keep a closer eye on Laudon’s various and sundry “adventures.”

  Next, General Platen was ordered to form up on the rises about Wahlstatt. Platen boasted five full battalions and 25 squadrons under his command now. Meanwhile, the very first notable aggressive act of the Russians in 1761 in the main theater took place at Jenkau. Ziethen’s men came under the attack of a large body of Cossacks right at Jenkau (August 15). The intruders appeared suddenly. Prussian training paid off here: there was no panic. The bluecoats charged and in so doing startled the Cossacks. The Russians’ discomfiture was such that, although the Prussians had been at the first surprised, they proceeded to wade through the Cossacks without the loss of a single rider or horse.

  Behind the Cossack screen, though, regular Russian horse took up position in support on the rises of Klein Wandriss. These latter troopers would be a far more formidable opponent. Nevertheless, Platen seized the initiative (“Fortune favors the Bold”). Prussian artillery immediately started lobbing shells in the direction of the Russian regulars, and Platen unleashed his full infantry complement forward on the attack. The king, seeing these developments, released Ziethen to go roll up the position of the greencoats at Klein Wandriss. The order was completely unnecessary. The Russian force, with all of this “attention,” made off before the action could become general.

  While this was taking place, there were signals the Austrians might indeed be on the move as well, finally. Faithful General Möllendorf marched to Drömsdorf, towards which Laudon was moving with a large force of some 15 squadrons of fine Austrian cavalry. This was trailed by a second powerful body of Austrian troopers, debouching right through Barzdorf—towards which General Ramin had been in the meantime sent by the Prussian king. The decision for an action here was being forced by the dictates of Laudon. What had happened to bring all of this about?

  Austrian scouts had detected the grapple between their Russian friends and Frederick’s army, and now Laudon sought to join up with Buturlin by supporting the Russian battle effort. The king, meanwhile, was responding to the challenge of the possible enemy juncture with much energy and ado. He rode to the front of the attack group being pressed forward towards Barzdorf, taking his place alongside faithful veteran General Ramin at the head of the attack. The fired up force moved past Skule, aiming at Klein Pohlwitz to provide reinforcements for Ziethen’s men.

  The latter were now in the unenviable position of confronting the main Russian and Austrian cavalry formations right at their front. General Ziethen, with this unnerving sequence of events, had retired back upon Klein Pohlwitz. This latter move allowed the long awaited juncture of the major Allied armies to occur, the Russian cavalry meeting up with their Austrian counterparts over by Strachwitz.

  While all of this was unfolding, General Platen alighted about Klein Wandriss. Frederick was still intent on doing all of the damage he co
uld to the Allied designs in spite of everything. The bluecoat force at his beck and call pressed now on to Nikölstadt and Wahlstatt. Artillery on both sides was unlimbered, and a brief but intense artillery exchange was commenced, initially at long range. The Prussian horse now charged into the Austrian infantry that was presently deployed about Strachwitz. The initial lunge went surprisingly well for the cavalry, since attacks by mounted men against well-organized infantry generally do not succeed in their objectives.

  Some of the individual Prussian cavalry units distinguished themselves here. For example, the 10th Dragoons (Major-General Finckenstein), in the action at Wahlstatt ended up “completely smashing two Austrian cuirassier regiments and the mounted grenadiers … [and] surrounded in the pursuit, it fought its way out with bare swords.”31 The final tally? 137 men, and there were 40 more counted among the missing. The king thanked the unit for its good conduct with “three Pour-le-merite and a gift of 2,900 Taler.”32 That is saying something, for the Prussian leader was known not to freely pass out either medals or money. The bluecoat cavalry as a whole performed most commendably at Wahlstatt. The cavalry action proved, in the end, to be enough to press back the light Russian cavalry screen which charged at front, but the jubilant Prussians were soon brought to a halt by line after line of fresh Russian infantry working their way over from Parchwitz, aiming for Klemerwitz.

  The arrival of the fresh greencoat infantry compelled Frederick to pull up short. The king was nonplused; he bivouacked for the night on those self-same rises of Wahlstatt, eschewing an evening strike on these greencoats. There was a chance for success against the still fragmented Russian force. It is difficult to explain away, then, the king’s decision to pass on an attack against Buturlin’s body; which at the moment numbered hardly 10,000 men. Especially since the Prussian leader had been so eager to engage Laudon and the Austrians in battle.