Frederick the Great and the Seven Years' War

by Herbert J. Redman

  The Prussians in the immediate region were divided into 24 battalions and 58 squadrons of horse.33 The increasingly anxious king must have had his doubts about salvaging any part of the campaign. Next morning, August 16, Buturlin assembled his entire army hard-by Klemerwitz. The ensemble totaled right around 60,000 men, and the position was sufficiently strong that the king now did not think for a moment about an assault upon Buturlin’s new camp. That being the case, Frederick was left little choice but to wait on events. The bluecoat left leaned over at Strachwitz and the right was hard by Gross Wandriss.

  The only substantial body of men not attached to the main Prussian command was a force under Margrave Charles, over at Lonig. The Austrians were content by this point to make only basic “readjustments” to their positions. August 17, early in the morning, the main whitecoat force got its marching orders: the force, again split up into three processions, marched on Gerlachsdorf, while the soon to be eclipsed Luzinsky was hard by Striegau, Jahnus stayed over by Freiburg, but Brentano hitched to Jauer. A glance at the map will show the gradual solidification of the Austrian hold on the area, capped by Beck’s move to the field of Liegnitz later in the day.

  So the Austrian commander merely took up headquarters in Frederick’s former one at Kunzendorf and bid his time, while scattered detachments from both the Prussian and the Austrian armies felt about and clashed with each other in petty engagements. Meanwhile, a new scheme was being hatched out in the Austrian camp.

  It seemed Schweidnitz was looked upon as a target of particular interest, and a former P.O.W. of the facility there, one Major Heinrich O’Donnell, proposed a plan which offered that the fortifications lacked sufficient men to garrison them properly (August 10).34 The suggestion was then broached, enlarged upon by the person of Laudon himself, that Schweidnitz was possibly suspect to storm by direct assault. Even Laudon himself was not entirely convinced of the veracity of the argument and the idea ended up being temporarily shelved for a more opportune time. Besides, there were bigger fish to fry at the moment. There was a more urgent business. Frederick’s valiant forced marches across the sandy plains of Silesia under a hot summer sun had indeed delayed the Laudon-Buturlin juncture, but had not, in the end, prevented it.

  August 19, the king lunged suddenly for Össig, with the hope of seizing Kunzendorf before the crafty Laudon had a chance to stop him. The Austrian weakness was in their supply line through Kunzendorf. The bluecoats tried to exploit this Achilles’ heel by their dash to grab Kunzendorf before the enemy could secure it. Laudon parried the blow by sending Jahnus from Freiburg up to Hohgiersdorf, while strengthening his own force at Kunzendorf. The bluecoat advance guard probed at Kunzendorf (early on August 20) but was thrown back by a powerful Austrian force.

  Now the king was in effect virtually trapped, with a tired, discouraged army confronted by enemies who were themselves strengthened, psychologically and physically, by the presence of each other. Had the allies made a determined effort, here finally was the opportunity to accomplish what they had been unable to do for five years: crush the main Prussian army, once and for all! The goal was finally within reach. Frederick could not retreat at this stage, for the allies had him cut-off, so he could expect no help from Prince Henry, either. The Prussian situation was a desperate one, but even now there were mitigating factors that as yet still favored their cause.

  For instance, the Russian commander was less than enthusiastic and had no desire to risk an open battle when a little patience (in fact, the Russian army commanders of the day were notorious procrastinators anyway) might serve to induce the bluecoats to submit without one. For his part, impatient Laudon could only urge his counterpart to cooperate, but was powerless to force the issue.

  With the juncture, circumstances had inexorably changed. Immediately, Frederick’s lines-of-communication and supply were severed, but he could temporarily rely upon the local region for provisions. Laudon’s supply route through Kunzendorf now had to carry the strain of providing for 60,000 additional hungry mouths—as Buturlin’s lines had become entirely too long to provide for his needs.

  Barred from his prize of snaring the enemy’s lifeline, Frederick made a night-march that evening to encamp at Bunzelwitz—midway between Striegau and Schweidnitz. With a virtual siege now imposed upon him, the Prussian monarch resolved to convert his new camp into a fortified bastion of sorts as quickly as conceivably possible. Seldom is a position selected out of desperation well suited outright for its purpose: Bunzelwitz was to be no exception to the rule.35 Much of the region, composed of wavy terrain about eight miles by eight miles, was unduly flat. On the east, lay Schweidnitz off in the distance, to the west, the Striegau Wasser. The Prussian left decamped at Jauernick, the right at Zedlitz, with the center about Bunzelwitz itself. With few natural obstacles to aid him defensively, Frederick quickly set his men making preparations to make up by artificial means the qualities that the topography lacked. As the great engineer Johann Tielke observed, it was the meager details “like the small, narrow streams, the swampy terrain … [and] enfilade fire from [Prussian] batteries” that made Bunzelwitz so formidable.36 There was more. Ironically “Frederick’s Instructions had foreseen that this would be the place to defend if disaster ever forced him to go completely on the defensive.”37

  The king’s army was divided into two details on the site: while one-half slept nervously on its guns, the other half would work, in alternating round-the-clock shifts, armed with picks and shovels, to build up the encampment. Battery mounts were built up and armed with their guns, trenches were dug and even mines planted underground to blow up the whole complex should it be captured.38 Anyway, the entrenchments were formidable; said to be 16 feet thick, ditches 12 feet deep by 16 wide. The ordnance quantity, 460 pieces, was also impressive, besides the 182 mines planted underground. The center of this citadel was at Würben—some five miles from Schweidnitz—where there were entrenched lines on four knolls, ordnance making a total of 24 big batteries to deal with the allied threat.

  The whole enterprise, involving the completion of the basic bastion, was finished within the incredible (by the standards of the day) time of 72 total hours. The bluecoats had been holding it from August 20. This fortress of Bunzelwitz, constructed by a genius in the art of the no holds barred offensive style of warfare, became, in fact, a model of the set-piece of the passive, purely defensive warfare. Bunzelwitz has been well-regarded ever since as a model for students of defensive warfare and its many facets.39

  Laudon, one among many, was singularly impressed by the compound, and sick of the fact that his delay and Buturlin’s lethargy had allowed the enemy the time to construct it in the first place. The Austrians were about Kunzendorf and Freiberg, while Buturlin was at the Striegau Rises—with Hohenfriedberg as his headquarters. But the allies remained as uncooperative as ever, neither seemed willing to trust the other and Buturlin, in particular, was very displeased over the way Laudon “attempted” to supply the basic needs of the Russian army. As a direct result, nothing significant ever came out of the much feared allied junction of Laudon and Buturlin.

  One would have thought more of it. Laudon, of course, had served in the Russian army once upon a time, and could freely speak directly to Buturlin40 without the need of an interpreter. Also, Laudon had to know the Russian mentality as promoted by its military. That at least a more cooperative spirit was not summoned up shows how divergent the real interests of the two “Allies” really were.

  But, when we consider the situation objectively, this is perhaps not so shocking after all. All of the campaigning from the Allied point of view seemed to have had an undercurrent of suspicion attached to it, not just in 1761. The faults of the respective allies were obvious for all to see. By contrast, the Prussian monarch was relatively well pleased with the results of his army’s efforts, even factoring in all of the problems, in that high summer of 1761. He made his headquarters (in a small tent) near Jauernick; each sunset, the Prussian army’s tents came d
own and the men spent another nervous night half anticipating an Austro-Russian attack—although, by this point in the proceedings, Buturlin’s involvement was expected to be limited at best.41 A false alarm on the night of August 25 only served to confirm Prussian fears of an impending stroke.

  In early September, Buturlin was persuaded, with some reluctance, to place the corps of General Cherneyshev at Laudon’s disposal, but even this feint-hearted response was subsequently withdrawn and the Russian commander finally and categorically refused to be party to any attack plan. The Russian commissary was hopelessly inadequate, the Austrian only a little better off with the added strain of Buturlin’s men, and so the latter army began to pack it in. The outcome was virtually inevitable, most especially considering Buturlin’s earlier reluctance to even pass the Oder deeper into Silesia. The evening of September 9, Prussian scouts reported major movements within the confines of the Russian encampment.

  Fear spread rumors that this might be the harbinger of an attack, but about 2200 hours a red glare lit the night sky and, next morning, Buturlin’s deserted camp was found. Only Cherneyshev with his force remained behind, and he promptly moved to Kunzendorf to link-up with Laudon’s lines. Frederick reacted to the news by dispatching Platen, with some 8,000 men, to go after Buturlin and see him off in the direction of Poland and home. Buturlin did indeed make a brief lunge at Berlin, but Platen was just too fast for him. By moving against the Russians in a different sphere, he completely frustrated any Russian designs upon the Prussian capital. Colonel Kleist was unbuckled upon the town of Kobilyn.42 The bluecoats were informed of a substantial enemy supply convoy at and about Gotsyn. At Gotsyn itself (September 15), Platen did terrible execution.

  Before dawn, his roving Prussian force moved up, striking at the big Russian supply train thereabouts. With the length of the supply lines that Buturlin could utilize, and the equal uncertainty of Laudon’s ability to keep the greencoat forces adequately provisioned, Gotsyn was to be very important in the grand scheme of things in 1761. A covering force of the Russian cavalry (about 650 strong), deployed forward of Gotsyn itself, was attacked and propelled back upon the Russian lines thereabouts. The opportunity to score a decisive effect with little effort was now presenting itself. But Platen had only a small strike force at hand and most of his men were still making their way forward, so he was obliged to pull up short at that stage until he could concentrate his whole force. Meanwhile, scouts reported this large convoy of wagons (a Wagenberg) present at the place. The Russian guard force thereabouts was under the command of General Czerepov, and numbered about 4,500 men. The wagons themselves were wholly exposed, although a couple of batteries with a total of seven 3-pounder guns were likewise present. As Platen consolidated his position, he unbuckled General Knobloch with a body of men to accost the enemy force in a nearby monastery (although the structure was actually not occupied by the Russians). His left flank, more concentrated under the command of Major-General Christian Wilhelm von Ziethen, rolled forward with the intention of striking hard against the enemy’s camp. The delay necessitated by the extensive Prussian preparations pushed the actual attack forward until late in the day.

  Platen’s ordnance was the first to “speak” early on, blasting away at the surprised opponent. A total of 28 battalion and 22 field guns43 had been brought forward by the bluecoats to the scene of the action. The Prussian artillery then paused as their infantry went forward in line to assail the Russian posts. Ziethen’s hussars, led directed on most enthusiastically by the energetic Ruesch Hussars, crashed into the already unstable Russian horse, sending it reeling. The right flank forces of Knobloch did their part all well and good, moving directly upon the sanctuary, but found no foe present. Rothenburg and Arnhim did not have similar problems, for they found lots of greencoats to tangle with in their sphere. Once more the famous order from Gross-Jägersdorf was uttered, “Don’t fire until you see the whites of their eyes!” On this particular occasion by Major Teufel von Birckensee. The admonition may have been timely, but in the end it was also to be futile on this wretched day.

  The initial Prussian attack compelled the shocked enemy to relinquish the forward line of the supply wagons and the attending artillery thereabouts. A second strike drove the wavering Russians from the remainder of the wagon train, after which General Platen unleashed the Finckenstein Dragoons (10th), which rode the enemy down and captured two guns and an entire battalion of the Russians.44 The greencoats were driven into the open by this third blow, which exposed them to defeat with little chance to reform, so they promptly fled or were killed or captured.45 Another of the Prussian units pointing the way on that day, their standards waving tall and proud, were the 8th Dragoons (Platen’s own regiment).46

  The struggle gradually abated. By about 2100 hours, the exhilarated Prussians were in full possession of the field. The entire Wagenberg of some 5,000 wagons had been captured or destroyed, and the Russians were also deprived of the services of General Czerepov, who was captured. Platen, to sum up “took five thousand waggons [sic], five battalions, forty-two officers, and seven cannon.”47 It had sure been a minor coup.48 There was a price to pay, of course, for all of this effort. Prussian losses were about 300; Finck’s battalion alone had 100 dead.49 The upshot was, Buturlin had to turn around and head back towards home almost immediately to prevent his army from starving. The dependence of the Russians for supplies in the rearward areas thus really showed up as one of their weak links. The bluecoats had preyed on this factor before, but, in 1761, it really helped to save the kingdom from utter ruin. All of this led Buturlin to finally abandon any hope of actually attacking the Prussian lines on his own, or even in conjunction with the Austrians. This was the case even though Empress Elizabeth was insistent throughout that the time for the present campaign must not be wasted.50 Time was running out for any real hope of finally and completely subduing the irascible Prussian king. Platen, anticipating a royal order, then raced on to Colberg, as we will presently make out when the quick moving Prussian alighted again.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Frederick Leaves Bunzelwitz; Schweidnitz Is Captured; End in Sight?

  So the Russians made for Poland, leaving Laudon and the Austrians by themselves to deal with the Prussians. Buturlin turned to try and punish General Platen’s men for their “insolence,” his patrols chased but could not catch up to the fast-moving Prussian band. As for Frederick, he would probably have preferred to remain at Bunzelwitz for a time, largely because of its proximity to Schweidnitz. He had occupied Bunzelwitz in the first place largely to help shield Schweidnitz from the allied armies. However, logistical considerations now rendered this an impossibility. The magazines at Schweidnitz were being depleted at an alarming rate, besides which the climate of that immediate region caused increasing numbers of Prussians to have to go on sick call—although the same effect was found among the Austrians thereabouts, it would appear.

  So, in the final two weeks of September, the bluecoats prepared to march from Bunzelwitz, although still throwing out precautions against the irascible Laudon. The batteries were dismantled, and the guns either transported to Schweidnitz or else carried forth by the army itself. On September 25, the king marched, first to Pilzen (east of Schweidnitz), although he did not deign stay there long. From Pilzen, the Prussian force made for Gross-Neisse in the neighborhood of Neisse (on September 28, the bluecoats reached Sigefroth), Laudon not really contesting their progress at all. Frederick’s intentions on this occasion were plain from the start: living on the supplies and magazines hitherto stored up in Neisse, he planned to prey upon the rear of Laudon and try his best to draw the Austrians back into Bohemia.

  As for Laudon, his intentions were very different ones; he planned, simply and decisively, to storm Schweidnitz. He worried but little about Frederick’s venture into Neisse country, and he only detached a few bodies of troops to look after his great adversary to keep the bluecoats busy while Laudon implemented his plan to take Schweidnitz as quickl
y as possible. Their great enemy was by no means inactive during this period. Upon reaching Gross-Neisse (September 29), Frederick was surprised to discover that Laudon, far from marching forth to meet him, had not stirred at all. So the king ordered General Bülow to reconnoiter the immediate area for evidence of Laudon’s movements nearby, while General Dalwigg followed behind looking for the Austrians.

  Both commands headed for the hills around Landshut, to directly threaten Laudon’s line-of-communications over the southern Silesian roads. Bülow and Dalwigg found no sign of the intentions of Laudon, and forthwith returned to the main army. October 2, Prussian General Lentulus (the noted aide-de-camp to the king from the very beginning of his reign)1 was sent to back-track to Bunzelwitz to try to discover just what the enemy had been up to. He probed towards Bunzelwitz, found no substantial bodies of troops confronting him, although the rumor mill from the locals announced some seriously bad news.2 Schweidnitz, held by General von Zastrow,3 had just been captured by Laudon in a surprise stroke. Two soldiers from the fortress confirmed the veracity of the rumors.

  What had happened?4 Laudon had snared a prize which the main Austrian and Russian armies had been unable to wrestle from the hands of the bluecoats for two months. And the deed provided a fine feather in his cap, in the process helping to justify his “independent” command in Silesia. General Lentulus, upon confirmation of the distressing news, returned immediately to the main headquarters.

  For his part, Laudon had discovered, on September 26, the main Prussian force had departed from the lines at Bunzelwitz, and thus his dormant plan of capturing Schweidnitz could be resuscitated. Laudon had kept to Kunzendorf ever since the departure of Buturlin, and bid his time, waiting for the still aggressive Prussian king to move far enough away so as to be unable to render assistance to Schweidnitz. On September 29, intelligence arrived that Frederick was at Gross-Neisse. This meant the main Prussian force was now distant enough for Laudon to put his daring scheme into effect.