True to his practice of boldly meeting an impending danger, Frederick preferred to open hostilities himself, rather than leave it to his enemies. Why should he hesitate to kindle the flames of war in the land of so bitter an enemy as the Elector of Saxony (also King of Poland) had shown himself to be? Without any formal declaration having been made, therefore, he proceeded to invade Saxony with an army of sixty thousand men in three divisions. His advance, as usual, was rapid; all places of importance were seized, and on September 10, 1756, he entered Dresden. The Elector fled to the fortress of Königstein, which was considered impregnable, and at the foot of which the Saxon army of seventeen thousand men, all told, was in position.
The Queen alone remained in Dresden. She had the key to the secret archives, and when Frederick ordered them to be seized she placed herself before the door of the room in which they were kept, declaring they should never be taken except by force. She was pushed aside, however, the chests were broken open, and Frederick found the documents, copies of which had been sent him by the traitor already mentioned, and which furnished proof of the secret alliance against him. With the exception of this violence, which, in truth, the august lady had brought upon herself, she was treated with the greatest respect. The poor country fared worse. Although pillage was strictly forbidden, Saxony had to bear all the oppression of a conquered country and meet levies of all kinds. Frederick emptied the arsenals, confiscated all the state revenues, and treated Saxony as if it were part of his own dominions; but he spared the people wherever it was possible. Ignoring the protests of the Emperor and also of France, he pursued his own course, and worked for his own ends firmly and resolutely.
The position which the Saxon troops held at the foot of Königstein was unassailable. The only way to vanquish them was by starvation, so the King left them well surrounded and marched with his army into Bohemia to prevent any assistance reaching the Saxons from that quarter. There were two Austrian armies in Bohemia—one under the command of Marshal Browne, at Kollin; the other under General Piccolomini at Olmütz, and later at Königgrätz. Browne was Saxony’s nearest hope of rescue; but Frederick’s sudden and unexpected appearance in Bohemia took him by surprise and found him unprepared for action. Several weeks elapsed, in fact, before he was ready to move, and Frederick made good use of the time. Moreover, the Minister of War, regarded as the most conservative of the Austrian field-marshals, wished to spare the army as much as possible, and to threaten Frederick for the advantage of Saxony without exposing it to long marches and changes of position.
Browne sent a force of eight thousand to Losowitz under Count Wied, while he himself left Kollin and took up a position near Budin. Wied’s vanguard met the Prussians at Peterswalde, September tenth, and Browne was forced into an engagement. The battle was fought near Losowitz, October, 1756, but was not decisive, both generals claiming the victory. Meanwhile, the famished Saxons at Königstein were in terrible straits. They had made an ineffectual effort to escape, and a second attempt was scarcely more successful, for their new position was no better than the one they had abandoned. The Prussians again surrounded them, and Browne, who had hurried forward hoping to rescue the beleaguered army, was compelled to retreat, leaving the unfortunate Saxons with no choice but to lay down their arms and surrender themselves with all their artillery to Frederick.
This blow crushed Saxony’s hopes of further resistance, but the King of Prussia, more magnanimous than might have been expected considering his many reasons for irritation against that country, granted neutrality to Königstein and its occupants. The Elector wisely preferred, however, to retire to Warsaw, and Frederick, for reasons of his own, took good care that he should meet with no interference from Prussian troops on the way thither.
These events closed the campaign. Browne remained in Bohemia and the King went into Winter quarters in Saxony, leaving part of his troops in Silesia. Maria Theresa took the loss of Saxony very much to heart, for she was thereby deprived of a faithful ally. Her army had suffered little and accomplished less, but at least it had escaped great dangers and was safe, and this was some cause for congratulation in Vienna; for, considering the unprepared condition in which the opening of the campaign had found Browne, the outcome might easily have been different and his troops have shared the fate of Saxony’s.
At all events, Maria Theresa had received a fresh warning to be on her guard against such an adversary, who appeared with the swiftness of an arrow where he was least expected, and was rarely to be found when he was looked for. With her usual energy she urged on the preparation of the army, and bestowed upon the task all the care and devotion of a mother for her children. But, busied as she was with affairs at home, she was none the less mindful of the value of neighborly help in time of need,—an emergency always to be considered where Frederick the Great was concerned. As a fact, he himself had unconsciously done more for her than her best friend could have accomplished; for the summary methods he had resorted to in Saxony, in defiance of the customary rights of nations, was unprecedented and greatly incensed other rulers, especially the Elector, shut up in his fortress of Königstein like a bird in a cage, with no hope of escape save by the favor of Frederick and his assurance of safety from attack by Prussian troops, who, to put it mildly, would scarcely have treated him with courtly politeness.
Many of these sovereigns were, no doubt, thinking “What has befallen Saxony might also happen in our own lands any day”; and if it came to the actual question whether such a fate were merited or no, their consciences might not have altogether acquitted them. Be this as it may, there was a general feeling of resentment among them, and the tendency of popular report to magnify matters did its part toward helping Maria Theresa by intensifying the feeling against Frederick. Even the Holy Roman Empire of the German nation condemned his conduct and joined the ranks of his enemies. Frederick, however, understood the nondescript character of the Imperial army too well to be disturbed by this, and his able and active adversary was also sufficiently aware of it to urge on her own preparations the more actively. If the Imperial army had been her only dependence, there would have been little hope for her; but the French alliance had proved most satisfactory, and promised to be of the greatest service to her in the event of the dissolution of the German union. Indeed, its assurance of help was now all the more certain because Frederick’s actions were calculated to increase the hatred of France for him.
Sweden also allied itself to France, and Russia had promised to support Austria with an army of one hundred thousand men. With three additional armies, even though Sweden’s strength did not count for much, and a total force of four hundred thousand, Maria Theresa’s prospects looked very bright, and it was not to be wondered at that her eyes were fixed confidently and expectantly on her beloved Silesia. Prince Charles of Lorraine was put in command of the Austrian army, and under him was Marshal Browne, the former commander-in-chief in Bohemia. This completely altered the plan of campaign that Browne had laid out, and the rapid movements of the active enemy had to be met with the slow-moving and cumbersome army of the allies. After careful and judicious consideration, it was agreed that the best way of utilizing the coöperation of the allied armies was to close in on Frederick from every side, and thus destroy his forces and completely crush him. Was the King aware of this plan? It seems probable from the plans which he adopted. Prince Charles and Browne occupied strong positions and calmly waited for the Prussian attack, while Daun was stationed some distance to the rear—a fact that caused Frederick some uneasiness.
The first battle of the campaign took place in the neighborhood of Prague on May 6, 1757. The Austrians seemed to have the advantage at first, for their artillery caused deadly havoc among the Prussians. The gallant Schwerin, seeing the danger, seized the colors of his regiment and rode at full speed against the enemy, urging his men on with shouts of encouragement. A shot found its way to his heart almost instantly, but his words still rang in every ear, his brave example was before every eye, and his death filled every heart with a thirst for revenge. The battle was fierce and bloody, and resulted in a victory for the Prussians; but it was not a decisive one, and Schwerin’s fall was a serious blow to them. Frederick said when informed of his death, “He was worth ten thousand men to me!” The King was greatly depressed by this loss, and also by the fact that the greater part of Maria Theresa’s army was safe within the walls of Prague, which looked like a speedy close to the campaign. Moreover, Daun’s division was still fresh, and free now to join the rest of the army, another advantage in their favor.
There was nothing left for Frederick but to lay siege to Prague; but as it promised to be a long and tedious affair for him, he ruthlessly bombarded the city and invoked the aid of two terrible allies—fire and famine. Every day increased the horrors of the situation in Prague. Prince Charles made every effort to encourage and cheer the soldiers and the citizens and persuade them to hold out by promises of speedy relief, but their own sufferings were more powerful arguments than any of his representations. The citizens lost heart, and the troops were continually committing acts of violence and becoming mutinous, so that Prince Charles was finally compelled to have a gallows erected in the public square to warn the marauders. Matters were desperate, when Daun approached with orders from Maria Theresa to relieve the distressed city at any cost.
The case was urgent, for the army and city might soon fall into Frederick’s hands, a result he was confidently reckoning upon. Daun must be driven from the neighborhood in order to accomplish it, and how to do that without weakening his besieging army was the problem that confronted him. With his usual skill, however, he solved it by hastening forward with a small detachment to join the Prince of Bevern’s division, and with him advancing to meet Daun. The battle of Kollin was the result of their meeting. It was a desperate struggle, and a disastrous defeat for the hitherto victorious King of Prussia. Daun was the victor and Prague was saved.
Maria Theresa received the news with a jubilant heart, and hastened at once with the Emperor to inform the Countess Daun of her husband’s victory in person. Nor was this enough. To celebrate the day she established the “Order of Maria Theresa,” which was to be won only by deeds of bravery in battle, and which by the infrequency of its bestowal was held as the highest possible honor in the Austrian army. The first cross of the order glistened upon the breast of Daun. As a still further expression of her joy and exultation, the Empress had a jubilee medal coined in commemoration of her victory.
The results of the battle of Kollin were far reaching. The popular belief in Frederick’s invincibility received a severe blow, and the courage of his soldiers sank in proportion as that of the Austrians rose. Maria Theresa’s forces were continually receiving additions, while the Prussian army began to dwindle. Matters looked somewhat brighter along the Rhine, but the Imperial army with a French auxiliary force was advancing to the rescue of Saxony, and Frederick was forced to march hurriedly into Thuringia to meet them, leaving his army in Saxony and Lusatia under competent generals.
Soubise, so famous for his agility in retreat, fell back at Frederick’s approach, and Erfurt opened its gates to him. A few days later Seydlitz surprised the French at Gotha, and drove them away in what might be called headlong flight; for in the ducal palace Seydlitz found the dishes still smoking on the table as they had been left, and he and his officers sat down with a good appetite to enjoy the meal the hungry Frenchmen had been so easily frightened away from. This little exploit of the cavalry afforded unbounded delight to the King and his soldiers, and served as a prelude to what was to follow at Rossbach.
Nothing could equal the scorn with which the French in their overwhelming conceit regarded Prussia’s little army; indeed, some of the officers went so far as to question whether it were not derogatory to their honor to engage in serious conflict with such a paltry force. But when the battle really began they took to their heels in a manner that scarcely has its equal in history. Of the noble Imperial army it can only be said that the greater part of it left the field without firing a shot. It was a rabbit-hunt, not a battle of men, in which the Prussians played the parts of hunters and drivers at the same time, with Seydlitz for a leader. That doughty baron’s only regret was that he had not been able to catch the gallant Soubise himself; but the swiftest horse could scarcely have done that!
To prove that even flight may lead to glory Prince Soubise, whom even the French themselves had nicknamed “Prince Sottise,”[16] received a Field-Marshal’s staff after this. The riddle is easily solved, however,—Pompadour![17] The French continued their flight as far as the Rhine, until they were sure Frederick had been left far behind.
The Austrians had been victorious since the battle of Kollin. Bevern’s and Winterfeld’s forces had been defeated. Silesia was almost within their grasp, a result they hoped to see accomplished before the end of the campaign. But Frederick had other plans. The battle of Rossbach had restored Saxony to him, but matters had come to the point when he must regain his hold on Silesia or lose all the advantage he had won.
In twelve days he crossed the whole breadth of his dominions, and effected a union with Bevern’s force in Silesia. This gave him about thirty-three thousand men, and with these troops, many of them exhausted by their long march, he faced an Austrian army of double their strength near the village of Leuthen. Here the Austrians met a crushing defeat; they lost twenty-six thousand five hundred men, killed or taken prisoners, one hundred and sixteen cannon, fifty-one standards, and four thousand commissary, baggage, and ammunition wagons, beside forfeiting the results of all their former victories. Whole regiments were annihilated or taken prisoners. The contemptuous designation of the Prussian army as the “Potsdam Night-watch Parade” was terribly avenged, and the precept was brought home to the Austrians, as it had been to the French at Rossbach, that “pride goeth before a fall”!
And Maria Theresa?
It was a bitter disappointment she was called upon to bear. She had looked upon Silesia as her own once more; she had seen her army triumph over the enemy; her heart had been full of joy and gratitude,—and now!
Nevertheless, in spite of these misfortunes, her brave spirit did not quail; her faith in the justice of her cause was unshaken. She redoubled her exertions to strengthen the army and make up the terrible losses it had suffered. But were there not quiet hours when with clasped hands she raised her tearful eyes to Heaven in prayer, as a relief to her oppressed heart? Being but a woman, and a devout and pious woman, it must have been so.
The third year of the war began in the early Spring: what terrible sacrifices it was to cost! What bloodshed and suffering, what distress and misery to thousands! Yet there was no thought of peace. Still must the sword reap its deadly harvest, like the scythe in the ripe grain-field, and Maria Theresa was powerless to prevent it. Her funds were low, their replenishment very difficult; and what vast sums were required to fill the gaps that Leuthen alone had caused! Bohemia was exhausted, little dependence could be placed upon the other states for help, and the treasury was slow in filling. She saw nothing but difficulties ahead, and, worst of all, the people were disheartened. The feeling against Prince Charles of Lorraine became so strong that he was forced to resign; but for once the ministry of war, which usually bore the blame of all mistakes and disasters, escaped the unsparing censure that was universally expressed against the commander-in-chief. Count Daun was appointed in his place, and hastened to Vienna to consult upon plans for the new campaign.
A few preliminary skirmishes resulted in favor of the Austrians, but the first important event was the loss of Schweidnitz, their last hold in Silesia. The garrison, reduced by want and distress, were taken prisoners by Frederick, who then advanced against Olmütz. From thence to Vienna was but a step, and one that was seriously considered by many of the Prussians. But Maria Theresa had again put the right man in the right place—two men, indeed, who proved themselves worthy of her confidence, Daun and Laudon. Daun’s great skill lay in his choice of positions, and he possessed a caution and deliberation that often put Frederick’s patience to the test and defeated his plans. He made no move until he was satisfied as to the fitness of his army, which consisted largely of new troops; but when his preparations were complete he marched to the assistance of Olmütz, which Frederick had besieged. He cut off the supplies of the Prussians by attacking and destroying a heavy train of provisions and ammunition which Frederick was anxiously expecting and depending upon. This loss, together with a sudden attack by Daun, forced the Prussians to raise the siege and retreat. Olmütz was saved.
Maria Theresa was greatly relieved, for she realized the importance of Olmütz, and was correspondingly grateful to her commander-in-chief, whose services she had already had good cause to value. She built fresh hopes, too, on the invasion of Brandenburg by the Russians, which obliged Frederick to divide his forces to meet this new danger. Leaving part of his army to oppose Daun, he marched rapidly against the Russians, who were ravaging Prussia. He defeated them with great slaughter at Zorndorf, wreaked a terrible vengeance upon them, and then returned to Saxony, where he was much needed, for his brother Henry was there and was hard pressed by Daun and the Imperial army. Daun employed his usual tactics in making his own position secure, while his light cavalry continually harassed the King’s troops, and in avoiding the decisive action into which Frederick was anxious to force him.
Frederick pitched his camp at Hochkirchen, on a plain directly opposite Daun, a position protested against by all his generals and of which Keith said, “If the Austrians leave us here in peace, they all ought to be hanged!” The King paid no attention, however, to this good advice. Daun’s eagle glance was not one to overlook an opportunity that lay within his grasp, but his deliberation seemed to imply that he did not intend to accept the bold challenge, and Frederick had already decided to break up his camp, when Daun suddenly fell upon it in the early morning (October 14, 1758) while the Prussians were still asleep. A desperate struggle followed, at first in total darkness. Then the daylight struggling through a heavy mist, with flames from the burning village, lit up the scene of slaughter where the Austrians had the foe at their mercy. Had not Frederick’s army maintained its discipline so well, but a small part of it would have escaped.
It was a brilliant victory for Daun, but he committed a grave error in not following it up, as his adversary would not have failed to do. Too late he realized the folly of allowing his irrepressible foe to escape, only to rally his forces and drive the Austrians from Silesia. Daun hoped to retrieve this blunder by achievements in Saxony. He had the advantage there and advanced to attack Dresden, but the Prussian General Schmettau set fire to the suburbs and showed signs of such vigorous resistance that, rather than see the city destroyed, Daun abandoned the attack and withdrew into Bohemia.
The results achieved by the allied armies in other quarters were not remarkable. Daun by his victory at Hochkirchen bore off the honors of this campaign, nor did he lack laurels in recognition of his services. He had a mistress who rewarded right royally.
Maria Theresa needed the Winter’s rest to strengthen her position both at home and abroad. Some new alliances and a renewal of the old ones seemed to promise well for the future. Russia made fresh preparations on land and sea; an agreement was made with Sweden and Denmark by which they were to close the passage of the strait against the English, and the Imperial army bestirred itself to repair damages.
Nor did Frederick neglect this opportunity to replenish his treasury, which was much in need of it, and to increase and improve his army.
The campaign of 1759 began with inroads by the Prussians, who committed terrible ravages. Prince Henry of Prussia was ordered to destroy the warehouses and magazines in Bohemia as well as in Franconia, both of which were suffering from depredations he had made with the object of replenishing Prussia’s war coffers.
Daun did not take the field until later. He cautiously waited for the appearance of the allies, and besides, it was important to effect the union of Laudon with the Russians. Although Frederick exerted himself to prevent this, Daun carried out his plans successfully, and confronted the King with an army of sixty thousand men. As the latter’s total force amounted to only forty thousand, he retired, and the allies took up a strong position near Kunersdorf. There they were boldly attacked by the Prussians, and a battle ensued which at first seemed to promise Frederick a brilliant victory; but Laudon changed the fortunes of the day and drove the Prussians from the field. When Frederick wrote to his minister, Von Finkenstein, that it was a misfortune he still lived, he expressed his desperate situation after the battle of Kunersdorf, for had the Russians followed up their advantage he must inevitably have been overwhelmed. A disagreement between Laudon and the Russian General Soltikoff was the cause of this failure, or, as was afterwards maintained and perhaps with some reason, the Russians’ crafty policy did not include Frederick’s complete destruction. Although Soltikoff, with an eye to possible changes in the Russian government and its attitude toward the King of Prussia, may have determined not to follow up the victory, still it is difficult to explain why Daun should have remained inactive when the enemy’s complete defeat would have inevitably produced such important results for Austria. At last he moved to another position at Triebel, which commanded the Prussian situation; but Prince Henry contrived to annoy and harass his troops constantly without risking a decisive engagement.
One misfortune after another befell Frederick. General Finck’s corps of twelve thousand men were defeated and taken prisoners by Daun, a heavy blow to the King’s pride as well as to his army; and a few days later fifteen thousand of Diereck’s force shared the same fate. Such a succession of disasters seriously crippled Frederick’s resources, and even the reënforcements brought him by the Hereditary Prince of Brunswick could do nothing to help matters.
Notwithstanding the severity of the weather, it was not until the beginning of January, 1760, that the armies went into Winter quarters. Frederick remained in Freiberg, and his troops camped in the villages about Dresden, some of them even in tents. It was bitterly cold and they could keep warm only by huddling together. Sickness broke out among them, and the mortality was great; but Daun did not fare much better. Both armies suffered terribly, and their losses were heavy.
The year had been a disastrous one for Frederick, and fortune had smiled on the Empress; but her goal, Silesia, was still far distant, although Frederick’s lack of resources for the continuance of the war seemed to bring it a little nearer. Her affairs, indeed, were in better condition than the King’s. He was in great need of money to recruit his army, and obliged to resort to any expedient to obtain it. He could not afford to be particular about his methods, as poor Saxony discovered to its cost. The willingness of its subjects to make sacrifices for her made it easier for Maria Theresa to obtain the means that she also needed for the prosecution of the war. Frederick tried in various ways to bring about a peace, but the Empress would not yield now that her hopes seemed about to be realized. She resolutely determined to continue the struggle for the sake of Silesia, that precious jewel she hoped soon to place once more in her imperial crown.
The next campaign opened in Silesia, and propitiously for Maria Theresa; for, at Landshut, Laudon destroyed a whole Prussian army corps under General Fouquet, with the exception of a small detachment of cavalry which managed to cut its way through and escape. Fouquet was taken prisoner, and all his supplies and ammunition fell into the hands of the Austrians. Important as this achievement was in itself, its principal value to Maria Theresa lay in the effect produced by so signal a victory at the very beginning of the campaign. Her troops had fought with desperate fury and showed no quarter, for they had been met with stubborn resistance and heroic valor on the part of the Prussians. There was great rejoicing when the news of the victory reached Vienna, and no one was happier than the Empress over the moral effect it produced.
Frederick, who was confronting Daun in Saxony, had determined to go to the assistance of Fouquet in Silesia, but Daun followed, or rather kept close beside him, while Lacy was in the rear, annoying and impeding him at every turn and doing much damage to his supply trains. Therefore he halted at Görlitz, and, changing his plan entirely, decided to attempt the reconquest of Dresden. He forced Lacy out of his way, evaded the Imperial army, and summoned Dresden to surrender. Failing in an attempt to surprise the city, he began to bombard it, although he lacked heavy artillery. When Daun discovered the King’s move, he lost no time in turning back after him, and, reaching Dresden, dispersed the Prince of Holstein’s force, and sent a considerable body of troops to the assistance of the garrison, in spite of all Frederick’s efforts to prevent it. Thinking that Daun would not allow the city to be ruined, he continued the bombardment, and wrought havoc within the walls. Great as its distress was, however, Dresden would not yield, and Frederick’s troubles increased daily. Glatz was captured, his losses at Dresden were very heavy, and a large part of his necessary supplies fell into the hands of the Austrians.
Thus blow followed blow, and the loss of Glatz depressed Frederick in proportion as it rejoiced Maria Theresa, who thereby gained once more a foothold in Silesia. Nor was Laudon content with his easy conquest of Glatz. Encouraged by it, and knowing the insufficiency of the garrison at Breslau, he proceeded directly to that place, expecting as speedy a victory there as at Glatz; a natural error, perhaps, but a serious one, as he soon discovered. The commander at Breslau was Tauentzien, a man not easy to subdue. Although Laudon brought all his force to bear against the city, he made no progress toward its capture; and when Prince Henry came to its relief, he was forced to raise the siege.
Frederick meantime had abandoned his fruitless bombardment of Dresden and hastened to Silesia, where his presence was needed; but Daun must have been accurately informed as to his movements, for he followed closely and passed him, Lacy falling to the rear of the Prussians. Thus there was the strange spectacle of what seemed like one huge army marching toward Silesia in three divisions, while Laudon approached with his troops from Breslau to meet them, and the Russians also advanced to join the allies. The Austrian officer seemed quite justified in his remark when he said, “The bag is open and ready to catch the Prussians; we have only to pull the string!”
When this was repeated to Frederick his eyes flashed, and he said with a bitter laugh, “The man has spoken truly; but I will make a hole in the bag that they will not find it easy to mend!”
Vienna waited anxiously for the next news. Such a thing as Frederick’s escape seemed scarcely possible. But almost every night he changed his position, which kept Daun in uncertainty as to his whereabouts, and it was this ceaseless activity and the wonderful mobility of his troops which proved “the hole in the bag” that was to show him the way out.
From the positions occupied by the encircling armies of the enemy, he perceived it was Daun’s plan to annihilate him by a combined attack. The decisive moment arrived on the fourteenth of August, 1760. Daun was absolutely certain of success; and indeed who would not have been, with the Prussians completely surrounded as they were? During the night, however, Frederick abandoned his position and moved to Parchwitz. Surprised and chagrined, Daun found that his plans were frustrated, and that, while the Prussians had not yet escaped from “the bag,” he had not altogether succeeded in “pulling the string.” Nor was Laudon any the less astonished, when he approached Liegnitz with thirty thousand men, to find the Prussians drawn up in order of battle. He hastened to form his own lines, but had only partially succeeded when the enemy attacked him. Taken completely by surprise, Laudon had the added disadvantage of a most unfavorable position, which greatly impeded the movements of his troops. Though they fought bravely, returning again and again to the charge, he was finally forced to retreat with heavy loss.
Everything seemed to have conspired against the Austrian generals. Daun might have sent assistance to Laudon had he known of the battle; but a strong wind prevented any sound of the heavy firing from reaching him, so he suspected nothing. If Laudon had sent him word, the result might have been different—indeed must have been; but even when he received news of it Daun made no move, thinking the locality where the attack would have to be made was too unfavorable to offer any hope of success.
Laudon was depressed by this defeat; but he was not held responsible for it even by the Empress, who, while she regretted a misfortune that was also her own, sent him assurances of her sympathy and continued favor. To be able thus to “pour wine and oil on his wounds” and keep up her own courage as well, instead of giving way to depression, was still another proof of the strength and wisdom that never failed her.
Frederick was well aware that his victory had brought him only temporary relief. He had made the “hole in the bag,” to be sure, but to get out of it was another matter. Daun understood this also, but none the less his failure to assist Laudon was a grave error. His plans were well laid, for the position of the Austrian and Russian forces not only made it very difficult for the Prussians to obtain their supplies, but must in time cut them off altogether. The resources of Breslau had been so exhausted by the siege that Frederick’s only way out of his predicament was the doubtful possibility of a victory over Daun’s army. The withdrawal of the Russians, however, opened the way for him to Bohemia, but in Saxony his outlook was unfavorable. The “hole in the bag” had helped him only for the time being, and Daun meanwhile was planning to strike a blow at his heart by seizing Berlin. Should the Russians be able to accomplish this, he was to fall back, while an Austrian auxiliary force under Lacy advanced to their support.
This plan was carried out, and on the third of October the Russian vanguard suddenly appeared before Berlin. The danger was imminent, and, while the city hastily prepared for defence, Prince Eugene of Würtemberg, who had been opposing the Swedes, hurried a part of his army to the capital by forced marches. Help was also summoned from Saxony, but the odds (sixteen thousand against thirty-five thousand) were too great, and Berlin was forced to capitulate. It was well for the city that General Tottleben showed both clemency and forbearance, and spared the treasures of art and learning accumulated there; but Lacy’s Austrian and Saxon troops were not so considerate, and Frederick’s palaces were overrun and despoiled by them.
It was only a few days, however, before the news that Frederick himself was approaching to the rescue of his capital drove the enemy from the walls of Berlin. Matters had not been progressing favorably for the King. His prospects were still dark, and if they were to assume a brighter aspect he would be obliged to attack Daun, whose position at Torgau was so strong as to make it a very difficult undertaking. The Austrian troops were fresh, moreover, and well equipped; but, notwithstanding all this and the advantage of numbers,—Daun had sixty thousand men, while he had but forty thousand himself,—Frederick decided to make the attempt, desperate as it seemed.
The struggle was long and deadly; the constant discharge of artillery shook the earth and whole ranks were mown down, even the King himself being wounded. Daun received a bullet in the thigh, but he was so confident of victory that he despatched a messenger to Vienna with the news—too soon, however, for the day was not yet ended! Just as night was closing in, Zieten, who had previously taken no part in the action, scaled the heights of Süplitz and captured the hill. This decided the fate of the Austrians. Notwithstanding all their efforts, they were compelled to give way and retreat to Dresden,—a bitter blow to Daun, who had already announced his victory in Vienna! The battle was one of the bloodiest of the war; sixteen thousand Austrians lay dead on the field or were taken prisoners. But the Prussians had paid dearly for their victory, having lost fourteen thousand men. Maria Theresa, however, showed her usual tact and magnanimity toward the defeated general, by going out of her way to meet him on his return from Torgau, and seeing that his wound received proper attention.
Frederick had not succeeded, however, in wresting the Plauen valley, the key to Dresden, from the Austrians. They went into Winter quarters there, while Laudon, after an unsuccessful attempt to capture Kosel, retired to Glatz. The Russians withdrew to Poland and the Swedes to Pomerania. The French had accomplished little and had met with many reverses, but toward the end of the campaign they obtained a victory over the Hereditary Prince of Brunswick. The struggle was continued in Hesse without any decisive results, until the coming of Winter made it necessary to suspend hostilities. Thus ended the fifth year of the war, with its harvest of death and destruction, leaving all the armies completely exhausted. And still no sign of peace!
Notwithstanding his victories, Frederick had suffered heavily, and the future looked dark for him; while Maria Theresa could look forward, if not confidently, at least with less doubt and anxiety. She continued her preparations most indefatigably. Laudon was placed in command in Silesia, while Saxony was assigned to Daun as his field of action, the object of their united endeavors being the reconquest of Silesia. Frederick was aware of this, and shaped his plans accordingly, although circumstances compelled him to act strictly on the defensive. He occupied the famous camp at Bunselwiltz, where he was in a good position to protect Schweidnitz. Laudon was anxious to attack him there, but the Russian General Butterlin refused to be drawn into a decisive engagement; at most he would only consent to assist Laudon with an auxiliary force. Frederick had no fear of an attack by day, but was obliged to guard against the danger of being surprised at night. September of 1761 came, and still nothing had occurred. On the thirtieth of that month, however, Laudon made a sudden attack on Schweidnitz, from all sides at once, and the commander there, who had neglected all precautions, taken completely by surprise, was forced to surrender unconditionally.
Frederick’s star seemed to be setting; for in Pomerania too he had been unfortunate. The usual vacillating and dilatory methods of the War Office favored him somewhat, for Laudon had received orders not to undertake any further operations and to confine himself to the defensive. The fall of Kolberg, which had made a stout resistance, and only capitulated when all the supplies had given out, was a fresh blow to the King. The Prussians had met with no decisive results in their encounters with the French, nor had they succeeded in inflicting any damage upon them. The end of the campaign left Frederick apparently on the verge of ruin. Maria Theresa’s heart was full of joy and hope, for never had Silesia been so nearly within her grasp as now, when her enemy had apparently exhausted his last resources.
The beginning of the year 1762 seemed to give her fresh grounds for hope, but these were suddenly dissipated by the news of the death of the Czarina Elizabeth of Russia.[18] She had been Frederick’s bitterest enemy, and her successor, Peter III, was his most enthusiastic admirer. The new Czar gave immediate proof of his friendship by issuing a manifesto in which he formally announced his intention of making peace with Prussia. A treaty was signed May 5, 1762, which restored to Frederick all conquests made by the Russians, and paved the way for an alliance between the two countries. This completely altered the aspect of affairs, and dashed Maria Theresa’s hopes and plans to the ground; for Frederick was now in a position to concentrate all his forces against Austria. Sweden too had withdrawn from its alliance with Austria, and followed the example of Russia in making terms of peace with Prussia. Everything seemed conspiring against the Empress.
Silesia still remained the centre of the struggle, and Frederick assumed the command there in person, the recapture of Schweidnitz being his first object. Choosing a favorable position, he awaited the arrival of the Russian troops promised him by his new ally, Peter III, before attempting any important move against his old adversary, Daun. Just as all his preparations were complete, however, and he was about to begin the attack, news arrived which threatened to upset all his plans. The Czar, Peter III, had been dethroned. Catherine II immediately succeeded him, and her first act was the recall of the troops which had been sent to assist the Prussians. This was a misfortune which Frederick had not anticipated, but he tried to avert its immediate disastrous results by persuading the Russian general to defer his departure for three days. This made prompt action necessary, but Frederick was the man of all others to meet emergencies. Although the Russians took no part in the action, Daun was quite in the dark as to their attitude, and this uncertainty obliged him to weaken his force by detaching a body of troops to watch them. Frederick’s attack was successful. Daun’s army was defeated and driven from the heights of Burkersdorf.
The King’s greatest anxiety now concerned Catherine’s attitude toward European affairs; consequently her declaration of neutrality was a great relief to his mind, for he feared that Russia’s power might be again exerted on the side of Austria. After his victory at Burkersdorf, he lost no time in laying siege to Schweidnitz. Daun tried to relieve brave old Count Guasco, who was in command there, but met with such a serious defeat at Reichenbach that he was obliged to leave the stronghold to the fate which finally overtook it.
The King next turned his attention to Saxony, where his brother Henry was bravely resisting the Austrians and the Imperial army. The Austrians had not been meeting with great success, but the arrival of Count Haddick as commander-in-chief seemed to turn the fortune of war again in their favor. Had Haddick not waited for reënforcements from Daun, Prince Henry would probably have been defeated; but by the time they arrived the Prussian army had also been strengthened by troops from Silesia, and in the battle of Freiberg, which immediately ensued, the Austrians were defeated with heavy loss.
It was the last battle of this dreadful war, which for so many long years had wrought untold misery throughout the wretched countries that had been the scene of the bloody conflict. Frederick, to be sure, continued the struggle against the Imperial army until the panic caused by Kleist’s huzzars forced the small German States to beg for peace. In Westphalia, and Hesse, also, the Prussians at last laid down their victorious arms. In truth, the exhaustion of all parties made peace imperative. It was finally declared February 15, 1763, and a treaty was signed at Hubertsburg which restored all conquests and left everything practically where it was at the beginning of the Seven Years’ War, Prussia retaining undisturbed possession of Silesia.
This was the heaviest sacrifice that Maria Theresa could have been called upon to make for peace. It cost her a great struggle with herself, and many bitter tears, but she did it so that the blessings of peace might be restored to her people.
Peace! The joyful cry rang from one end of Maria Theresa’s dominions to the other, and was echoed in her own heart; for, deeply as she grieved over Silesia, now lost to her forever, she must have had a feeling of thankfulness when she thought of those battlefields which had been reddened with the blood of so many thousands of her people. Her deeply religious nature must have prompted the thought: “Since all my sacrifices, all my efforts and exertions have availed nothing toward the restoration of Silesia to me, it must be the will of Him who rules all, and without whose notice not a sparrow falls.”
The great Empress, who could control herself so well, could not fail to recognize how incomplete her efforts toward governing and improving the condition of her people had been thus far, and to welcome a peace which would enable her to continue the work, and, in devoting all her energies to remove the devastation caused by the war, find a balm for the wound in her own heart which the loss of Silesia had inflicted.
It would be doing Maria Theresa a great injustice, however, to imply that she to whom the condition of the government and its evils had been so clear, even during her father’s lifetime, had not profited by the occasional intervals of peace which the country had enjoyed, and worked zealously for their reform until war again turned the ploughshare into the sword. It was impossible for her to recognize defects without endeavoring to remedy them. We have already seen how resolutely she checked the luxury and extravagance of the Court after her father’s death; how, taught by bitter experience the need of reformation in the army, she had strengthened and prepared it for the long and desperate struggle that was to come; how she had increased the country’s revenues and readjusted the system of taxation upon which she depended for means to defend her right to the throne; and with what unerring judgment she had chosen the best men to carry out her plans, and placed them where their abilities would be of most service to the country.