Meanwhile, the siege of Colberg continued unabated. By late on November 15, the greencoats holding positions before the port were apprised of the departure of Prince Eugene’s forces, which substantially reduced the total number of men available to defend Colberg. Conversely, this greatly increased the options at Rumyantsev’s disposal, as he tried his best to close out a successful siege of Colberg. The seriousness of the persecution of that endeavor was displayed by the appointment of an energetic engineer, Colonel Gerbel, who, as expected, promptly pressed matters further.
Russian ordnance was almost immediately unleashed on the Wolfsberg (November 17), while vigorous infantry assaults carried part of Colberg’s extensive redoubts. Following this, additional Russian batteries were deployed in part of those same bastions, which only put more pressure upon the hard-pressed garrison. As these latter batteries proceeded to ply their deadly trade, additional guns were sited and put to work joining the crescendo. November 19, two Prussian supply ships tried to slip into Colberg, but the greencoats intercepted what would turn out to be one of the last of the many attempts to secure at least some relief for the embattled defenders of the place. Through all of this, Rumyantsev’s heavy guns continued to pummel the defensive posts.
Under cover of darkness on November 20–21, Russians laborers set up and sited another battery, this one of five 12-pounder guns, near the Sankt Nicolaus Church overlooking the Persante River. Russian forces were now comfortably ensconced in the Münde Gate region near Colberg. November 21, Commandant Heyde dispatched a task force to demolish the nearby bridge. It may have been about this same time when a combination of a rather generous supply of French brandy (of all things) and desperate men combined to rear an opportunistic head. The garrison of Colberg had a great quantity of the precious liquid; which they did not want falling into Russian hands. So the staff were allowed to imbibe, in “moderation.” Despite the attempts to moderate its use, many of the Prussian soldiers, trying to steel their resolve against the dual edged sword of the bitter cold weather and meager rations, so indulged in the ready provision of the brandy “they swallowed every drop, quite a number drinking themselves to death [in the process].”30 Meanwhile, the fire from the six different batteries that the greencoats were utilizing here continued only with some periods of pause. The Prussian position grew increasingly desperate as a result.
As for the greencoats, they continued to make satisfactory progress towards finishing the affair with success. Patrols drove the bluecoats from the Laufgraben (November 22). Later that same day, Chief Engineer Gerbel received very specific instructions from Rumyantsev to seize the aforementioned church, hard by which the attackers were only too glad to erect yet another battery, consisting of three of the lighter 6-pounder guns, which were more effective here because of their vantage point.
Russian engineers, within the space of twenty-four hours, had another larger battery erected at a new redoubt facing the glacis of Colberg. This latter had two howitzers, with an additional four 12-pounder guns. Russian artillery intensified their efforts, as a fire more intense than ever was being directed at Colberg. As a result, many of the structures within the port town were either damaged or destroyed. After a most vigorous shelling, Rumyantsev, mindful of the ever growing lateness of the campaigning season, as well as possible rescue attempts, tried to secure the surrender of the city. Under a flag of truce, he sent in Captain Bockhe with an offer to parley for the purposes of securing Colberg’s fall. But Commandant Heyde turned out to be more resilient than expected. He refused to be party to any negotiations that surrendered Colberg to the Russians.
As a result, the shelling was resumed, while the greencoats stormed the Geldern, forcing the Prussians to recoil from yet another of their bastions. But time was still pressing. On December 1, Rumyantsev once more summoned Colberg’s garrison, without result. Left with little choice but to try to hasten the conclusion of the siege, the highly stressed Gerbel supervised the building of a much larger battery, this one from the glacis over to the Münde works, which took a full five days to complete. The entity housed 22 guns, all ready to go. The chief advantage of this newest battery was its close proximity to the intended target.
The bluecoats were trying their best to retain control of Colberg, principally by sending in supply ships to make a desperate try to bring in provisions. Yet again, the ever vigilant coastal patrols nabbed the supply ships, while the Prussians’ worst fears about the fate of Eugene’s enterprise were confirmed on December 12 (after the desperate affair at Spie), when locals informed the bluecoats in Colberg that there would be no relief overland either. That night, intense cold gripped the region, utterly freezing the rivers and increasing the misery for Heyde’s men. The commander and his force were nearing the end of their rope. Heyde had no choice in the end. On the next day, he sent word to the enemy he was ready to negotiate a peace. Captain Bockhe forthwith returned to Colberg along with Major von Schladen and Lieutenant von Tiez, bringing with them, in 28 separate points,31 the Russian demands.32
Meanwhile, Eugene had been reduced to extremities, as Commandant Heyde’s guns were almost out of ammunition and his garrison was teetering on the brink of starvation. But immediately Rumyantsev occupied Eugene’s entrenched camp, while the latter, unfortunately, while succeeding in linking up with Platen, could no longer get through the Russian lines into Colberg.
Heyde’s men, in desperation, poured water on the walls of the fortress to make them freeze in the cold weather. The besiegers again tried to take the place by storm, but once more, the Russians failed to break the determination of the besieged. Heyde, in fact, snubbed all of Rumyantsev’s offers of surrender terms. Russian attacks continued to engage the attentions of the garrison as much as possible. In fact, these assaults were large scale affairs. In fierce fighting, just from December 11 through the 13, the bluecoats suffered the following casualties: 164 men and three officers killed; 306 men wounded; 786 captured.
Frederick, meanwhile, had ordered Eugene to make another try at breaking through the Russian lines, not that this was impractical. December 6, Eugene marched; gliding through the thick woods, he reappeared a week later. A successful, surprise, assault carried a single redoubt, defended by a force of 500 men, but then Eugene, finding the enemy thoroughly entrenched between Colberg and his relief force, was forced to retire (December 12–13). Eugene lost 102 men from the bitter elements on this particular march.33 Learning to his chagrin that Eugene was departing, along with the last hope to save Colberg, Commandant Heyde, with his men out of provisions and prospects dim, surrendered Colberg to the enemy—on December 16. Heyde and his entire garrison became P.O.W.s. Total Prussian losses were: 1,221 men and 13 officers among the infantry; and 111 officers and men and 111 horses.34 Following this triumph, the greencoats immediately settled into their winter quarters. Greencoat forces spread out all the way from Neu Stettin, to Rügenwalde, Belgard, on over to Cöslin. This capturing of Colberg was the Russian equivalent of the Austrian storming of Schweidnitz and was by far the most important accomplishment of the Russians not only during this campaign but probably the entire war. It was also destined to be of almost no lasting value at all to the victors. For circumstances entirely beyond the scope of Colberg itself.
Meanwhile, the operations on the Western Front had been somewhat slower paced in 1761 than in 1760.35 Preliminary operations to secure a firmer foothold for the French having proven unsuccessful, they resolved to redouble their efforts. Madame Pompadour now had two armies organized and set against Ferdinand. The latter could dispose of some 95,000 men for the new campaign. Broglie was still in command of the French forces in the field, but Soubise had been elevated, largely through his influence with the Pompadour, to be his Co-Commander. This may have helped soothe some hard feelings, but with Choiseul still in overall command, left much confusion about who commanded what. Nevertheless, there were 160,000 French troops ready to take to the field for Campaign 1761.
Ferdinand’s task was to guar
d Lippstadt from the enemy, and he would have found this enterprise far more difficult than he did had the French chosen to keep their two armies operating as separate entities. Fortunately, Soubise and Broglie moved to join up, their rendezvous being accomplished at Soest on July 6 while their opponents remained idle west of Soubise’s camp at Vellinghausen. The position that Ferdinand held there fronted eastwards to the left of that town while the center was near the Ahse River and the right hugged below it. The latter flank was shielded behind marshy patches of ground and a tributary in front, but almost exposed from certain directions. The allies had their base at Hamm, a village where the Ahse and Lippe Rivers joined. The French had determined to attack Ferdinand’s forces in his position thereabouts, but problems between Broglie and Soubise about a firm timetable for this assault caused the enterprise to be delayed several times.
But, by mid–July, French outparties were probing near the enemy camp; on July 15, Broglie at last ordered a march up to charge the allied camp. Heavy reconnaissance followed, about 1800 hours a deliberate strike was launched upon Ferdinand’s post by the French in strength. Quickly responding, the Marquis of Granby ordered his men to form up, while Broglie, lunging forward under the cover of a heavy cannonade, struck again and again in futile blows. The last of these attempts was beaten back by about 2200 hours. About 130,000 French troops had participated in this phase of the Battle of Vellinghausen, although this figure did not include the troops of Soubise (which were quite out of effective range behind the proceedings).
Although he was denied the reinforcements that might have proven decisive, Broglie was grimly determined to destroy Ferdinand’s force if the opportunity presented itself. Accordingly, renewed assaults were launched at about 0400 hours, July 16, but Prince Ferdinand had strengthened his left wing from the right of his lines (that is, the one facing Soubise) and again forced back the French in heavy fighting. And, while Broglie’s men battered themselves against a strengthened allied wall of troops, Soubise did nothing but launch a feeble attack upon the enemy left with a small party; this was quickly repulsed with the loss of 24 men.36 Near 1000 hours, seeing signs the enemy was faltering at last, Ferdinand’s cavalry burst forth and drove the discouraged Broglie from the field with a loss of 5,000 men (almost 50 percent of them being prisoners). The allies lost some 2,000 men in the battle.
The ensuing episode shows the inherent dangers of trying to put two generals in charge at the same time in field command. For a vigorous debate arose soon after over whom was responsible for Vellinghausen: Soubise or Broglie. The influence of the Soubise faction was greater, which eclipsed Broglie, easing him right out of the picture. The intrigue itself dated from before Vellinghausen, but the provided a catalyst to end Broglie’s command. The incident shows French military objectives, which should have been sacrosanct to the conduct of the war, played second fiddle to politics and intrigue.37 Soubise retired into Westphalia, marching and maneuvering weakly to threaten one allied post after another, but actually accomplishing very little for the French cause. As for Broglie, he retrieved Wolfenbüttel, but then lost it again in the course of a few days; he then retired unceremoniously into winter quarters. Then Broglie, by far the most capable French commander of this war in a long time, was replaced in sole command of the French field armies by the almost incompetent Soubise. The latter proceeded to finish out the war with equal ineptness.
In Saxony, the opponents went into winter quarters, while back in Silesia, the Prussian king, shocked by the news of the fall of Schweidnitz to Laudon, in early October moved to Strehlen, where he again took up a defensive position covering Breslau and Neisse. By this point, the winter was in full force, so Frederick (October 5) took up in Strehlen for the off-season. He then repaired to Breslau to spend the winter (December 9). Before this, however, there occurred a rather curious incident involving the Prussian monarch, a kidnaping plot and one Baron Heinrich Gottlob Freiherr von Warkotsch.38
This Baron Warkotsch had been a captain years before in the Austrian army and it was clear they still had his sympathies. Nevertheless, the king appears to have regarded the baron with some favor, allowing him to visit his headquarters, “dine at the royal table” and apparently even foregoing the extraction of men and equipment from Warkotsch’s extensive holdings to support the Prussian war effort. This makes the baron’s treason all the odder.39
Nor was the attempted betrayal a sudden impulse of sorts. In summer, when the king was at Schönbrunn, night of August 15, he happened to be sleeping in one of Warkotsch’s rooms. This room opened on a secret passage and hidden staircase, by which the Austrians might have nabbed, or even murdered, Frederick, which was obviously Warkotsch’s intentions at the time (as he did not hesitate to employ the ominous sounding phrase “dead or alive”). However, the last minute arrival of a body of Ziethen’s command, which had changed its accommodations at the last moment, in the vicinity gave the baron a case of fortuitous cold feet. In short, the conspirators planned to “seize the king when he should come forth unattended, and convey him to the Austrian camp.”40
Forward to the late autumn. Now the fortunes of war and his many trials had led the king back to Silesia, this time to the little village of Wöischnitz (near Strehlen, the temporary headquarters of the king), where Frederick had an escort of 30 grenadiers. Warkotsch planned to carry out his dastardly conspiracy under the cover of darkness, even though a large division of bluecoats (some 6,000 men all told) was close by the headquarters.
Warkotsch conceived of a plot to set the thick woods round about Strehlen and vicinity on fire, which in the confusion of the moment should enable Colonel Wallis to accost the king and make straightway for Laudon’s headquarters. For his treacherous conduct in delivering up the royal head, the baron was supposed to receive the princely sum of 100,000 florins. As Archenholtz points out, Warkotsch, to act with such perfidious conduct, had to believe that Prussia was going to lose the war, and thus control of Silesia.41 The extent to which the Austrian government was involved in the plot is not precisely known, but the large size of the “reward” sure gives one pause. It was 100,000 florins (which was roughly $600,000 in equivalent U.S. dollars in 2000, according to Duffy’s rate of exchange).42 It is certain that Warkotsch proceeded to inform Laudon that Frederick’s temporary headquarters at Strehlen had few guards and he could be easily taken captive. Now why Laudon did not try the deed with his large army rather than work out a rather involved plot is hard to explain.
The particulars are the following. Warkotsch was in communication with a certain man named Schmidt in Siebenhuben; the pair kept in touch through the baron’s faithful servant, Matthias Kappel. An Austrian party was prepared in Heinreichau under Colonel Wallis to affect the capture of the king when the time came. Fortunately for the bluecoats, on November 30, Kappel, instead of delivering Warkotsch’s note to the little Austrian waiting party, took it instead to a local Catholic priest named Gerlach. To his credit, this poor parish priest sent Kappel to the person of the king himself to deliver the acid letter. Thus the scheme was exposed. As soon as Warkotsch heard the jig was up, he took refuge in the same room occupied formerly by the king, and when a Prussian officer entered to place him under arrest, the baron used the hidden stairway to affect his escape. Schmidt also managed to flee. Later, when the baron returned to try to claim some of his money and valuables, his “friends” in his escort helped themselves to it instead. Subsequently, Warkotsch fled to Hungary and implored Maria Theresa to send him a stipend; she eventually “rewarded” him with an annual 300 florins for his maintenance.43 He was even given a “new identity,” one Count Löbenstein.44 The upshot was, Baron Warkotsch and Schmidt were both burned in effigy and the Prussians confiscated all of their properties.
Laudon went into winter hibernation from Lusatia, although, with the fortress Schweidnitz in his hands, for him it had been a profitable campaign. None of the warring parties suspected great fundamental changes which would alter the political considerations for the ne
w year of 1762.
England, now involved in a new war with Spain (declared January 2, 1762), was yearning to be set free from the Prussian alliance, and had cast Pitt out of office, replacing him with Lord Bute. It did not take long for big upheavals in policy.
Bute offered Frederick a subsidy only on the condition that the Prussian seek to make peace with Austria through negotiation (in fact, Bute was already haggling with the French to bring war between France and England to an end). Although it is not within our confines to examine Europe’s political climate at this time in depth, there are two developments we need to look at more closely: (1) The defection of Great Britain from the Prussian alliance, and (2) The long anticipated death of the Empress Elizabeth and the consequent defection of Russia from the Allied cause.
The first was directly related to the removal of Pitt from office. With Pitt out of the equation, Frederick’s Prussia had few friends left in high office in London and even the Prussian representatives in London joined in the crescendo for their master to make some concessions to Count Kaunitz and the allies in order to get the war over with. As for Frederick, he was still holding fast to the line, and even hoping that at least a part of Saxony might be left to him at the peace. However, with his only important ally actively negotiating with the French, the king faced dismal prospects.
Part of the reason for the English decision to try to come to terms with the French involved soaring losses by Great Britain of its merchant vessels to swarming French privateers. The total loss of English trading vessels in 1760 had been over 300, “and in 1761 at over eight hundred, three times that of the French.”45 Obviously, it would not be long before losses of this magnitude would become unsustainable.
Frederick the Great and the Seven Years' War Page 99
