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Chapter IX.–PRELIMINARIES TO A FIFTH CAMPAIGN.
It was April 25th before Friedrich quitted Freyberg, and took Camp; not till the middle of June that anything of serious Movement came. Much discouragement prevails in his Army, we hear: and indeed, it must be owned, the horoscope of these Campaigns grows yearly darker. Only Friedrich himself must not be discouraged! Nor is;–though there seldom lay ahead of any man a more dangerous-looking Year than this that is now dimly shaping itself to Friedrich. His fortune seems to have quitted him; his enemies are more confident than ever.
This Year, it seems, they have bethought them of a new device against him. “We have 90 million Population,” count they; “he has hardly 5; in the end, he must run out of men! Let us cease exchanging prisoners with him.” At Jagerndorf, in April, 1758 (just before our march to Olmutz), there had been exchange; not without haggles; but this was the last on Austria’s part. Cartel of the usual kind, values punctually settled: a Field-marshal is worth 3,000 common men, or 1,500 pounds; Colonel worth 130 men, or 65 pounds; common man is worth 10s. sterling, not a high figure. [Archenholtz, ii. 53.] The Russians haggled still more, no keeping of them to their word; but they tried it a second time, last year (October, 1759); and by careful urging and guiding, were got dragged through it, and the prisoners on both sides sent to their colors again. After which, it was a settled line of policy, “No more exchanging or cartelling; we will starve him out in that article!” And had Friedrich had nothing but his own 5 millions to go upon, though these contributed liberally, he had in truth been starved out. Nor could Saxony, with Mecklenburg, Anhalt, Erfurt, and their 10,000 men a year, have supplied him,–“had not there,” says Archenholtz (a man rather fond of superlatives),–
“Had not there risen a Recruiting system,” or Crimping system, “the like of which for kind and degree was never seen in the Earth before.
Prisoners, captive soldiers, if at all likely fellows, were by every means persuaded, and even compelled, to take Prussian service. Compelled, cudgel in hand,” says Archenholtz (who is too indiscriminating, I can see,–for there were Pfalzers, Wurtembergers, Reichsfolk, who had FIRST been compelled the other way): “not asked if they wished to serve, but dragged to the Prussian colors, obliged to swear there, and fight against, their countrymen.” Say at least, against their countrymen’s Governors, contumacious Serene Highnesses of Wurtemberg, Mecklenburg and the like. Wurtemberg, we mentioned lately, had to shoot a good few of his first levy against the Protestant Champion, before they would march at all!–I am sorry for these poor men; and wish the Reich had been what it once was, a Veracity and Practical Reality, not an Imaginary Ent.i.ty and hideously contemptible Wiggery, as it now is! Contemptible, and hideous as well;–setting itself up on that, fundamental mendacity; which is eternally tragical, though little regarded in these days, and which entails mendacities without end on parties concerned!–But, apart from all this, certain it is,
“The whole German Reich was deluged with secret Prussian Enlisters.
The greater part of these were not actual Officers at all, but hungry Adventurers, who had been bargained with, and who, for their own profit, allowed themselves every imaginable art to pick up men. Head and centre of them was the Prussian Colonel Colignon,” one of the Free-Corps people; “a man formed by nature for this business [what a beautiful man!]–who gave all the others their directions, and taught them by his own example. Colignon himself,” in winter-time, “travelled about in all manner of costumes and characters; persuading hundreds of people into the Prussian service. He not only promised Commissions, but gave such,–nominating loose young fellows (LAFFEN), students, merchants’
clerks and the like, to Lieutenancies and Captaincies in the Prussian Army [about as likely as in the Seraphim and Cherubim, had they known it]: in the Infantry, in the Cuira.s.siers, in the Hussars,–it is all one, you have only to choose. The renown of the Prussian arms was so universal, and combined with the notion of rich booty, that Colignon’s Commission-manufactory was continually busy. No need to provide marching-money, hand-money [shillings for earnest]; Colignon’s recruits travelled mostly of will and at their own charge. In Franken, in Schwaben, in the Rhine Countries, a dissolute son would rob his father,–as shopmen their masters’ tills, and managers their cash-boxes,–and hie off to those magnanimous Prussian Officials, who gave away companies like kreutzers, and had a value for young fellows of spirit. They hastened to Magdeburg with their Commissions; where they were received as common recruits, and put by force into the regiments suitable. No use in resisting: the cudgel and the drill-sergeant,”–who doubts it?–“till complete submission. By this and other methods Colignon and his helpers are reckoned to have raised for the King, in the course of this War, about 60,000 recruits.” [Archenholtz, ii. 53.]
This Year, Daun, though his reputation is on the decline lately, is to have the chief command, as usual; the Grand Army, with Saxony for field of conquest, and the Reichsfolk to a.s.sist, is to be Daun’s. But, what is reckoned an important improvement, Loudon is to have a separate command, and Army of his own. Loudon, hot of temper, melancholic, shy, is not a man to recommend himself to Kriegshofrath people; but no doubt Imperial Majesty has had her own wise eye on him. His merits are so undeniable; the need of some Commander NOT of the Cunctator type is become so very pressing. “Army of Silesia, 50,000;” that is to be Loudon’s, with 40,000 Russians to co-operate and unite themselves with Loudon; and try actually for conquest of Silesia, this Year; while Daun, conquering Saxony, keeps the King busy.
At Petersburg, Versailles, Vienna, much planning there has been, and arduous consulting: first at Petersburg, in time and in importance, where Montalembert has again been very urgent in regard to those poor Swedish people, and the getting of them turned to some kind of use: “Stettin in conjunction with the Swedes; oh, listen to reason, and take Stettin!” “Would not Dantzig by ourselves be the advisable thing?”
answers Soltikof: “Dantzig is an important Town, and the grand Baltic Haven; and would be so convenient for our Preussen, since we have determined to maintain that fine Conquest.” So thinks Czarish Majesty, as well as Soltikof, privately, though there are difficulties as to Dantzig; and, in fine, except Colberg over again, there can be nothing attempted of sieging thereabouts. A Siege of Colberg, however, there is actually to be: Second Siege,–if perhaps it will prove luckier than the First was, two years since? Naval Armament Swedish-Russian, specific Land Armament wholly Russian, are to do this Second Siege, at a favorable time; except by wishes, Soltikof will not be concerned in it; nor, it is to be hoped, shall we,–in such pressure of haste as is probably ahead for us.
“Silesia would be the place for sieges!” say the Vienna people always; and Imperial Majesty is very urgent; and tries all methods,–eloquence, flatteries, bribes,–to bring Petersburg to that view. Which is at last adopted; heartily by Czarish Majesty, ever ready for revenge on Friedrich, the more fatal and the more direct, the better. Heartily by her; not so heartily by Soltikof and her Army people, who know the Austrian habits; and privately decide on NOT picking chestnuts from the fire, while the other party’s paws keep idle, and only his jaws are ready.
Of Small-War there is nothing or little to be said; indeed there occurs almost none. Roving Cossack-Parties, under one Tottleben, whom we shall hear of otherwise, infest Pommern, bickering with the Prussian posts there; not ravaging as formerly, Tottleben being a civilized kind of man. One of these called at the Castle of Schwedt, one day; found Prince Eugen of Wurtemberg there (nearly recovered of his Kunersdorf wounds), who is a Son-in-law of the House, married to a Daughter of Schwedt;–ancestor of the now Russian Czars too, had anybody then known it. Him these Cossacks carried off with them, a march or two; then, taking his bond for a certain ransom, let him go. Bond and bondholder being soon after captured by the Prussians, Eugen paid no ransom; so that to us his adventure is without moment, though it then made some noise among the Gazetteers.
Two other little pa.s.sages, and only two, we will mention; which have in themselves a kind of memorability. First, that of General Czetteritz and the Ma.n.u.sCRIPT he lost. Of posts across the Elbe I find none mentionable here, and believe there is none, except only Czetteritz’s; who stands at Cosdorf, well up towards Torgau Country, as sentry over Torgau and the Towns there. On Czetteritz there was, in February, an attempt made by the active General Beck, whom Daun had detached for that object.
Extremely successful, according to the Austrian Gazetteers; but in reality amounting to as good as nothing:–Surprisal of Czetteritz’s first vedette, in the dawn of a misty February morning (February 21st, 1760); non-surprisal of his second, which did give fire and alarm, whereupon debate; and Czetteritz springing into his saddle; retreat of his people to rearward, with loss of 7 Officers and 200 prisoners;–but ending in re-advance, with fresh force, a few hours after; [Seyfarth, ii. 655.]–in repulse of Beck, in recovery of Cosdorf, and a general state of AS-YOU-WERE in that part. A sputter of Post-War, not now worth mentioning at all,–except only for one small circ.u.mstance: That in the careering and swift ordering, such as there was, on the rear-guard especially, Major-General Czetteritz’s horse happened to fall; whereby not only was the General taken prisoner, but his quarters got plundered, and in his luggage,–what is the notable circ.u.mstance,–there was found a small Ma.n.u.script, MILITAIRISCHE INSTRUKZION FUR DIE GENERALE, such as every Prussian General has, and is bound to keep religiously secret.[Stands now in _OEuvres de Frederic,_ xxviii. 3 et. seq.; was finished (the revisal of it was), by the King, “2d April, 1748)” see PREUSS, i. 478-480; and (_OEuvres de Frederic,_ xxviii. PREFACE, for endless indistinct details about the translations and editions of it.
London Edition, 1818, calls itself the FIFTH.] This, carried to Daun’s head-quarters, was duly prized, copied; and in the course of a year came to print, in many shapes and places; was translated into English, under the t.i.tle, MILITARY INSTRUCTIONS BY THE KING OF PRUSSIA, in 1762 (and again, hardly so WELL, in 1797); and still languidly circulates among the studious of our soldiers. Not a little admired by some of them; and unfortunately nearly all they seem to know of this greatest of modern Soldiers. [See, for example, in _Life of General Sir Charles Napier, by his Brother_ (London, 1857), iii. 365 and elsewhere,–one of the best judges in the world expressing his joy and admiration on discovery of Friedrich; discovery, if you read well, which amounts to these INSTRUCTIONS, and no more.]
Next, about a month after, we have something to report of Loudon from Silesia, or rather of the Enemies he meets there; for it is not a victorious thing. But it means a starting of the Campaign by an Austrian invasion of Silesia; long before sieging time, while all these Montalembert-Soltikof pleadings and counter-pleadings hang dubious at Petersburg, and Loudon’s “Silesian Army” is still only in a nascent or theoretic state, and only Loudon himself is in a practical one.
Friedrich has always Fouquet at Landshut, in charge of the Silesian Frontier; whose outposts, under Goltz as head of these, stretch, by Neisse, far eastward, through the Hills to utmost Mahren; Fouquet’s own head-quarter being generally Landshut, the main gate of the Country.
Fouquet, long since, rooted himself rather firmly into that important post; has a beautiful ring of fortified Hills around Landshut; battery crossing battery, girdling it with sure destruction, under an expert Fouquet,–but would require 30,000 men to keep it, instead of 13,000, which is Fouquet’s allotment. Upon whom Loudon is fully intending a stroke this Year. Fouquet, as we know, has strenuously managed to keep ward there for a twelvemonth past; in spite, often enough, of new violent invadings and attemptings (violent, miscellaneous, but intermittent) by the Devilles and others;–and always under many difficulties of his own, and vicissitudes in his employment: a Fouquet coming and going, waxing and waning, according to the King’s necessities, and to the intermittency or constancy of pressures on Landshut. Under Loudon, this Year, Fouquet will have harder times than ever;–in the end, too hard! But will resist, judge how by the following small sample:–
“Besides Fouquet and his 13,000,” says my Note, “the Silesian Garrisons are all vigilant, are or ought to be; and there are far eastward of him, for guarding of the Jagerndorf-Troppau Border, some 4 or 6,000, scattered about, under Lieutenant-General Goltz, in various Hill Posts,–the chief Post of which, Goltz’s own, is the little Town of Neustadt, northward of Jagerndorf [where we have billeted in the old Silesian Wars]: Goltz’s Neustadt is the chief; and Leobschutz, southwestward of it, under ‘General Le Grand’ [once the Major GRANT of Kolin Battle, if readers remember him, “Your Majesty and I cannot take the Battery ourselves!”] is probably the second in importance. Loudon, cantoned along the Moravian side of the Border, perceives that he can a.s.semble 32,000 foot and horse; that the Prussians are 13,000 PLUS 6,000; that Silesia can be invaded with advantage, were the weather come. And that, in any kind of weather, Goltz and his straggle of posts might be swept into the interior, perhaps picked up and pocketed altogether, if Loudon were sharp enough. Swept into the interior Goltz was; by no means pocketed altogether, as he ought to have been!
“MARCH 13th, 1760, Loudon orders general muster hereabouts for the 15th, everybody to have two days, bread and forage; and warns Goltz, as bound in honor: ‘Excellenz, to-morrow is March 14th; to-morrow our pleasant time of Truce is out,–the more the pity for both of us!’ ‘Yea, my esteemed neighbor Excellenz!’ answers Goltz, with the proper compliments; but judges that his esteemed neighbor is intending mischief almost immediately. Goltz instantly sends orders to all his posts: ‘You, Herr General Grant, you at Leobschutz, and all the rest of you, make your packages; march without delay; rendezvous at Steinau and Upper Glogau [far different from GREAT-Glogau], Neisse-ward; swift!’ And would have himself gone on the 14th, but could not,–his poor little Bakery not being here, nor wagons for his baggages quite to be collected in a moment,–and it was Sat.u.r.day, 15th, 5 A.M., that Goltz appointed himself to march.
“The last time we saw General Goltz was on the Green of Bautzen, above two years ago,–when he delivered that hard message to the King’s Brother and his party, ‘You deserve to be tried by Court-martial, and have your heads cut off!’ He was of that sad Zittau business of the late Prince of Prussia’s,–Goltz, Winterfeld, Ziethen, Schmettau and others?
Winterfeld and the Prince are both dead; Schmettau is fallen into disaster; Goltz is still in good esteem with the King. A stalwart, swift, flinty kind of man, to judge by the Portraits of him; considerable obstinacy, of a tacitly intelligent kind, in that steady eye, in that droop of the eyebrows towards the strong cheek-bones; plenty of sleeping fire in Lieutenant-General Goltz.
“His princ.i.p.al force, on this occasion, is one Infantry Regiment; REGIMENT MANTEUFFEL:–readers perhaps recollect that stout Pommern Regiment, Manteuffel of Foot, and the little Dialogue it had with the King himself, on the eve of Leuthen: ‘Good-night, then, Fritz! To-morrow all dead, or else the Enemy beaten.’ Their conduct, I have heard, was very shining at Leuthen, where everybody shone; and since then they have been plunging about through the death-element in their old rugged way,–and re-emerge here into definite view again, under Lieutenant-General Goltz, issuing from the north end of Neustadt, in the dim dawn of a cold spring morning, March 15th, 5 A.M.; weather latterly very wet, as I learn. They intend Neisse-way, with their considerable stock of baggage-wagons; a company of Dragoons is to help in escorting: party perhaps about 2,000 in all. Goltz will have his difficulties this day; and has calculated on them. And, indeed, at the first issuing, here they already are.
“Loudon, with about 5,000 horse,–four Regiments drawn up here, and by and by with a fifth (happily not with the grenadiers, as he had calculated, who are detained by broken bridges, waters all in flood from the rain),–is waiting for him, at the very environs of Neustadt.
Loudon, by a trumpet, politely invites him to surrender, being so outnumbered; Goltz, politely thanking, disregards it, and marches on: Loudon escorting, in an ominous way; till, at Buchelsdorf, the fifth Regiment (best in the Austrian service) is seen drawn out across the highway, plainly intimating, No thoroughfare to Goltz and Pommern.
Loudon sends a second trumpet: ‘Surrender prisoners; honorablest terms; keep all your baggage: refuse, and you are cut down every man.’ ‘You shall yourself hear the answer,’ said Goltz. Goltz leads this second trumpet to the front; and, in Pommern dialect, makes known what General Loudon’s proposal is. The Pommerners answer, as one man, a No of such emphasis as I have never heard; in terms which are intensely vernacular, it seems, and which do at this day astonish the foreign mind: ‘We will for him something, WIR WOLLEN IHM WAS–‘ But the powers of translation and even of typography fail; and feeble paraphrase must give it: ‘We will for him SOMETHING INEFFABLE CONCOCT,’ of a surprisingly contrary kind! ‘WIR WOLLEN IHM WAS’ (with ineffable dissyllabic verb governing it)! growled one indignant Pommerner; ‘and it ran like file-fire along the ranks,’ says Archenholtz; everybody growling it, and bellowing it, in fierce ba.s.s chorus, as the indubitable vote of Pommern in those circ.u.mstances.
“Loudon’s trumpet withdrew. Pommern formed square round its baggage; Loudon’s 5,000 came thundering in, fit to break adamant; but met such a storm of bullets from Pommern, they stopped about ten paces short, in considerable amazement, and wheeled back. Tried it again, still more amazement; the like a third time; every time in vain. After which, Pommern took the road again, with vanguard, rearguard; and had peace for certain miles,–Loudon gloomily following, for a new chance. How many times Loudon tried again, and ever again, at good places, I forget,–say six times in all. Between Siebenhufen and Steinau, in a dirty defile, the jewel of the road for Loudon, who tried his very best there, one of our wagons broke down; the few to rear of it, eighteen wagons and some country carts, had to be left standing. Nothing more of Pommern was left there or anywhere. Near Steinau there, Loudon gave it up as desperate, and went his way. His loss, they say, was 300 killed, 500 wounded; Pommern’s was 35 killed, and above 100 left wounded or prisoners. One of the stiffest day’s works I have known: some twelve miles of march, in every two an attack. Pommern has really concocted something surprising, and kept its promise to Loudon! ‘Thou knowest what the Pommerners can do,’ said they once to their own King. An obstinate, strong-boned, heavy-browed people; not so stupid as you think. More or less of Jutish or Anglish type; highly deficient in the graces of speech, and, I should judge, with little call to Parliamentary Eloquence.” [Preuss, ii. 241 (incorrect in some small points); Archenholtz, ii. 61; Seyfarth, ii.
640, and _Beylagen,_ ii. 657-660; Tempelhof, iv. 8-10; in ANONYMOUS OF HAMBURG (iv. 68) the Austrian account.]
Friedrich is, this Year, considered by the generality of mankind, to be ruined: “Lost 60,000 men last Campaign; was beaten twice; his luck is done; what is to become of him?” say his enemies, and even the impartial Gazetteer, with joy or sorrow. Among his own people there is gloom or censure; hard commentaries on Maxen: “So self-willed, high, and deaf to counsel from Prince Henri!” Henri himself, they say, is sullen; threatening, as he often does, to resign “for want of health;” and as he quite did, for a while, in the end of this Campaign, or interval between this and next.
Friedrich has, with incredible diligence, got together his finance (copper in larger dose than ever, Jew Ephraim presiding as usual); and, as if by art-magic, has on their feet 100,000 men against his enemy’s 280,000. Some higher Officers are secretly in bad spirits; but the men know nothing of discouragement. Friedrich proclaims to them at marching, “For every cannon you capture, 100 ducats; for every flag, 50; for every standard (cavalry flag), 40;”–which sums, as they fell due, were accordingly paid thenceforth. [Stenzel, v. 236, 237; ib. 243.] But Friedrich, too, is abundantly gloomy, if that could help him; which he knows well it cannot, and strictly hides it from all but a few;–or all but D’Argens almost alone, to whom it can do no harm. Read carefully by the light of contemporary occurrences, not vaguely in the vacant haze, as the Editors give it, his correspondence with D’Argens becomes interesting almost to a painful degree: an unaffected picture of one of the bravest human souls weighed down with dispiriting labors and chagrins, such as were seldom laid on any man; almost beyond bearing, but incurable, and demanding to be borne. Wilhelmina is away, away; to D’Argens alone of mortals does he whisper of these things; and to him not wearisomely, or with the least prolixity, but in short sharp gusts, seldom now with any indignation, oftenest with a touch of humor in them, not soliciting any sympathy, nor expecting nearly as much as he will get from the faithful D’Argens.
“I am unfortunate and old, dear Marquis; that is why they persecute me: G.o.d knows what my future is to be this Year! I grieve to resemble Ca.s.sandra with my prophecies; but how augur well of the desperate situation we are in, and which goes on growing worse? I am so gloomy to-day, I will cut short…. Write to me when you have nothing better to do; and don’t forget a poor Philosopher who, perhaps to expiate his incredulity, is doomed to find his Purgatory in THIS world.” [_OEuvres de Frederic,_ xix. 138, 139 (“Freyberg, 20th March, 1760”).]… To another Friend, in the way of speech, he more deliberately says: “The difficulties I had, last Campaign, were almost infinite: such a mult.i.tude of enemies acting against me; Pommern, Brandenburg, Saxony, Frontiers of Silesia, alike in danger, often enough all at one time.
If I escaped absolute destructiou, I must impute it chiefly to the misconduct of my enemies; who gained such advantages, but had not the sense to follow them up. Experience often corrects people of their blunders: I cannot expect to profit by anything of that kind; on their part, in the course of this Campaign:” judge if it will be a light one, MON CHER. [To Mitch.e.l.l, one evening, “Camp of Schlettau, May 23d”
(Mitch.e.l.l, ii. 159).]
The symptoms we decipher in these Letters, and otherwise, are those of a man drenched in misery; but used to his black element, unaffectedly defiant of it, or not at the pains to defy it; occupied only to do his very utmost in it, with or without success, till the end come.
Prometheus, chained on the Ocean-cliffs, with the New Ruling-Powers in the upper hand, and their vultures gradually eating him; dumb Time and dumb s.p.a.ce looking on, apparently with small sympathy: Prometheus and other t.i.tans, now and then, have touched the soul of some AEschylus, and drawn tones of melodious sympathy, far heard among mankind. But with this new t.i.tan it is not so: nor, upon the whole, with the proper t.i.tan, in this world, is it usually so; the world being a–what shall we say?–a poorish kind of world, and its melodies and dissonances, its loves and its hatreds worth comparatively little in the long-run.
Friedrich does wonderfully without sympathy from almost anybody; and the indifference with which he walks along, under such a cloud of sulky stupidities, of mendacities and misconceptions from the herd of mankind, is decidedly admirable to me.
But let us look into the Campaign itself. Perhaps–contrary to the world’s opinion, and to Friedrich’s own when, in ultra-lucid moments, he gazes into it in the light of cold arithmetic, and finds the aspect of it “frightful”–this Campaign will be a little luckier to him than the last? Unluckier it cannot well be:–or if so, it will at least be final to him!