Deprived of the chance for battle that he desperately needed, the king evacuated Erfurt on September 27, withdrawing on Buttelstadt. He obviously hoped that this move would draw out the recalcitrant allied force. The latter did nudge forward slightly, but only as far as Gotha—more than 30 miles from Buttelstadt. Nothing daunted, the main Prussian force marched back to Eckartsberga over a road made into a quagmire by the rains. This was about ten miles from Buttelstadt. Richelieu decided soon after to negotiate with Ferdinand. October 3, the indolent French commander proposed, of all things, an armistice between the two to last until the next campaign season.22 His move was not all that surprising. The French commissariat was approaching collapse and supplies were becoming harder to come by. Hence Broglie’s plight shortly afterwards. An agreement was hammered out on October 17, after which Ferdinand withdrew on Magdeburg.
The Prussian monarch was concerned, on October 3, he withdrew on Büttstädt, which was in the opposite direction to the allies. Little passed until October 10; on that date, the fairly comfortable occupants of Gotha gave up those quarters and passed to Langensalza. There they would be in better position to cover Broglie, who was bringing reinforcements. This move convinced the Prussians of the enemy’s retirement into winter quarters and Frederick’s attention turned to other theaters.
Frederick with his force—sweeping through Naumburg, Weissenfels, Leipzig, Eilenburg and Torgau—reached Annaburg, October 19. Here news arrived that although the enemy had occupied Berlin they held it only one day and were already gone. It had not been a wholesale move on Brandenburg and his capital as the king had feared, for the main Austrian army was busy elsewhere (as we shall see), and neither the Russians nor the Swedes ever gave a thought to cooperating. It was a good thing a larger force had not been employed.23 The king paused, withdrawing his advanced elements towards Torgau, by way of Grochwitz and Herzberg, uncertain what to do next. Since operations on the Western Front were temporarily stagnant, we can look at the other fronts.
Bevern at Görlitz faced the 75,000 men of Charles and Daun; a detachment of 10,000 Prussians under the command of Winterfeldt was on the right bank of the Neisse at Moys—which was connected to Görlitz by a wooden bridge. Ahead of the village lay the Moysberg, a small hill held by some 2,000 of Winterfeldt’s fine troops, complete with adequate battery and cavalry supports. This was a good position to watch for enemy movements into Silesia, but it was really exposed to a serious foray by the Austrians.
Prince Charles was finally goaded into action by Maria Theresa and Kaunitz, the latter journeying to the front to put pressure on Charles to undertake the reconquest of Silesia while Frederick was busy in the west. Charles was really determined to do “something” to impress Kaunitz with his activities. In this case, it meant attack. The situation was certainly favorable for him. August 26, Nádasti occupied a very advanced post near Siedenberg, which was close to the Prussian forces opposite to him. Arenberg moved on Königshayn. Nádasti’s new post was encamped astride the Wittische River, the left leaning on the little village of Wiese and the right deployed near Seidenberg. Nádasti’s chief job here was to safeguard foraging parties in Silesia.
Winterfeldt’s post was along that same Wittische, and, around the same time, he sent a strong force which both reconnoitered the local area and stirred up the Austrians to action. Some nipping back and forth between the two sides was all that ensued for a time. August 30, even as Charles and Daun moved up personally to the rises above Königshayn to spy out what Winterfeldt’s position was, Winterfeldt launched a strong attack on the Austrian posts immediately in front. The effort was repulsed, but the Prussian action was just a mask to hide the withdrawal on the road to Görlitz, which took place overnight. A move which seems to have caught the Austrians entirely off their guard. We might safely presume the whitecoats often underestimated the capability of their enemy to ‘parry and dodge,’ especially with the ever aggressive Prussian king at their helm.
Beck’s men moved up past Schönau, detaching Lt.-Gen. Solomon Sprecher von Bernegg with a force of 3,500 men to occupy the rises near Schönau. The latter was supposed to provide regular troops to stiffen the irregulars of Beck and Morocz. It turned out to be a wise precaution. September 2, the main Austrian army rose from Klein-Schandau and moved its headquarters to Ostritz. The new right was hard by the village of Niede, while the left was held at the edge of a thick forest. This was a less formidable camp than the previous ones, with the difference being the king was off on other errands.
With a new resolve (stiffened by Frederick’s absence), the main Austrian army moved on Schönau (September 6), sandwiched between the Neisse River and the heights near Jauernick. The grenadiers of Sprecher congregated near Tauchernitz, a short distance from the main Austrian right wing. Forward of Sprecher, a sizeable body of Croats kept the enemy busy. Horace St. Paul relates the Prussians were busy; “we could see works being constructed.”24
The Prussian withdrawal awoke the resolve of the faltering allied commanders. Hildburghausen was all in favor of pursuing the retreating Prussian king and his force, but Soubise would not join him in such an effort. Nothing daunted, the Imperialist commander took his army and marched to Moschleben (October 16) and Erfurt, which he reached the following day. As for the French, they stayed put at Langensalza, despite another “suggestion” from Hildburghausen that, with a little effort, the allies could well manage a fight with Frederick near Eilenburg.
Finally, on October 19, Soubise moved down the Unstrut River, one column on either bank. On October 22, with both allied armies advancing but separately, Soubise reached Weissenfels, and Hildburghausen arrived at Dornburg and Camburg. The Prussians were overextended in Saxony, the supplies were at Dresden and Torgau, and it was this set of circumstances that had induced Bevern to try to hold Saxony while keeping Silesia under guard in the first place. Frederick was busy with the French and Imperialists in the west, he had no troops and no time to worry with Charles, and would Bevern just withdraw into Silesia (which he was considering) then the main Austrian army could move, with relative ease, either into Brandenburg or else go against Frederick’s rear near Erfurt.
In the first week of September, the Austrians formulated their attack plan.25 The authors of the elaborate scheme included General Colloredo, the Duke of Arenberg, Nádasti, and Brigadier General Antoine-Marie de Malvan Comte de Montazet, the visiting French personage who would really play a larger role in the campaign after all than was ever anticipated. Charles’ objective was Moysberg, where the exposed Prussian lines offered a golden opportunity of sorts. Nádasti with 20,000 men (15,000 infantry, the rest horse and irregulars) was sent out towards the place on September 6. Daun, with the main body, was to move within supporting distance in case Bevern was to make a major effort out of the affair. Near dusk, Nádasti arrived below Jäkelsberg—about ½ mile due West of Moys. Here Winterfeldt was keeping a holding force of two grenadier battalions; those of Benckendorff and Dieringshausen.
Early the following morning, the Austrian batteries opened up a terrific bombardment of the Prussian positions. Soon after, an assault column, led by the Duke of Arenberg, was pushed to the attack (0600 hours). There were six full companies at the forefront of this effort. The march up was a fairly involved affair, commencing just after midnight the previous night. This was through broken, uneven country. It is not clear at this time whether it was intentional or not, but the actual attack did not get going until about 1100 hours. By then, all hope of a “surprise attack” should have been forlorn, but the Prussian camp still seems to have been unpleasantly surprised. The troops in the plain were assumed to be foraging.26 The attack scheme was specifically designed to stagger columns in such a way that, should one unit encounter major problems, its nearest neighbor could shift into line to fill in the gap left by the departing battalion.
So the Austrians involved in the coming fracas anchored their right directly at Hermsdorf. Sprecher had charge of the grenadier units which positioned hard by
the mill at Moys. The attacking forces had to literally scale the mountains to get to the Prussian position. This first assault led to a nasty bit of fighting for a time. The Prussian forward posts fell back upon the main lines, but the attack was finally repelled by a most murderous fire.
Prussian forces featured a newly installed post, backed up by a battery of six guns, located on the summit of the Jäkelsberg. The Austrian effort (led by Croats backed up by regular troops under Arenberg and General Montazet) stalled out without surmounting the summit. Draskovitch promptly sped to the attack with his Croats. The reaction by the Prussians was furious. Nonetheless, this initial Austrian attack carried the village of Moys itself. Elsewhere, the tough resistance compelled the Croats to retire down the mountain back upon their infantry/artillery support. The latter was still making its way up the mountain. The irregulars recoiled, and immediately disappeared, probably to go indulge in some plundering. The main column was swept back as well. Nádasti rallied his men, including the 38th Infantry of Claudius Ligne and the 43rd Infantry (of Platz), and went back into the fight.27
Winterfeldt, hearing the news of this fight, and heavy sounds of firing from the direction of Moys, quickly discerned this was no small Croat foray.28 He gathered as many men as he could and dashed on his horse to the scene of the action.29 There Nádasti’s greatly superior force surged forward and drove the bluecoats back from the Jäkelsberg and pressed them hard at the Moysberg. The fighting was furious; much of it hand-to-hand at close quarters. In this crisis, Winterfeldt arrived. The 41st Infantry (Lt.-Gen. Franz Carl Ludwig Count Wied zu Neuweid) defended the Jäkelsberg.30 It would suffer losses of 204 dead and 68 wounded before the day was done. The Austrians spared no effort. Nádasti himself urged on the assault, and soon the Austrians had some large forces on the rise, fighting it out at close range.
Winterfeldt with four battalions from two regiments (Manteuffel and Tresckow, locally led by Major-General Kannacker) pushed back into the attack, after mounting a fresh horse. The fallen works were recaptured after a bitter struggle, but Nádasti redoubled his efforts. Arenberg, with a full 21 squadrons, led the reserve up to bolster the Austrian effort. He was propped up by Infantry Arberg (Infantry 55th), Ligne (Infantry 38th), Platz (Infantry 43rd), Saxe-Gotha, and Sprecher (Infantry 22nd). This segment of the struggle had lasted about an hour before the Austrians pierced and drove in Winterfeldt’s front. But a far more serious loss had been suffered by the Prussians. Prince Charles de Ligne saw Winterfeldt shot in the spine of the back at the head of the counterattack.
Kannacker was captured by the Austrians, and he lost no time in informing the whitecoats that Winterfeldt had been laid low. Winterfeldt appears to have been shot in the back31 under uncertain circumstances during the counterattack. We have already observed Winterfeldt’s almost shocking lack of popularity in the army. Few cared for him outside of the king. His men, in the end, just managed to stave off a rout, and did much to show the toughness of the Prussian grenadiers by holding back an enemy many times their number. Winterfeldt, struck by a mortal wound, spent the final moments of his life giving commands to his subordinates, conscious to the end.32 On September 9, Winterfeldt’s remains were returned to the Prussians under a flag of truce.33
The overall military situation might have been salvaged had there been reinforcements from Bevern. The explanation for this “oversight” is not easy to find. He had no fondness for Winterfeldt—a trait common, as we have observed, among the Prussian officers—but that alone is not sufficient to condemn Bevern at the outset. Perhaps Bevern felt Winterfeldt had the situation in hand (despite messengers dispatched asking for more troops), or he did not consider the situation all that important but there was no help sent to help Winterfeldt. There is no denying the fact more could have been done with more troops.
The Prussian left, which had 35 squadrons of cavalry, plus eight additional battalions of infantry, all under the charge of Ziethen, attemped on its own to intervene. Nádasti responded with a ferocious effort that snuffed out Ziethen’s relief effort. Winterfeldt’s orders to occupy the villages of Leopoldshayn and Hermsdorf could not be accomplished because the enemy’s irregulars already held them; further, an incompetent aide-de-camp apparently botched orders and threw the Prussians into disorder. This allowed the Austrian to storm posts prematurely abandoned. Then the Winterfeldt wound pretty much crippled the Prussian battle effort34 and, by 1330 hours, the Prussians were again driven from their lines. This time, the retreat was for good. Fortunately, the bluecoat retreat was right into nearby Görlitz. The furious fire of the Prussian batteries thereabouts checked the enemy pursuit. That, and the fact the Austrians did not seem to want anything more than a limited action in mind to start with.
By 1400 hours, the survivors of the Prussian detachment were retiring towards Moys, and the inconclusive Battle of Moys ended. Indecisive except for the demise of Winterfeldt. The latter had never completely recovered from the severe wound he had received at Prague; witness his relative inefficiency during the retreat from Bohemia as well as his being surprised in broad daylight by the Austrians at Moys. The dislike of much of the Prussian officer corps for the person of Winterfeldt would have meant there was little (if any) provision made to ensure of his efficiency. The king was too far distant to do more than write notes to determine Winterfeldt’s soundness as a functioning Prussian officer. Could he still carry out his duties? Many of these communications must have reached Winterfeldt posthumously. In the end, the king would never completely get over the loss of his old, faithful confidant.
And the little battle sure had other casualties. The Infantry 21st (Major-General Hülsen) alone had lost 376 men. Tuttle said total losses were 2,000.35 Austrian losses were estimated by Horace St. Paul at more than 1,400 killed/wounded.36 There was one other effect: Bevern was prompted to abandon Saxony and retire into Silesia. On September 10, he moved out for Schlesien. General Beck rather aggressively pushed the retiring Prussians through Görlitz. Although the enemy did a commendable job of delaying pursuit, Beck grabbed several supply wagons and many prisoners. The retreat of the Prussians paused at Langenau, while Prince Charles committed a large force of 1,000 horse and some 900 grenadiers, under Prince von Lobkowitz, along with a Croat screen, to pursue the enemy.
Prince Charles and Daun needed little incentive to follow him, leaving behind only a rearguard under Hadik and Marschall. It shall shortly be clear just what purpose this latter force was left there for.
Back at the Eastern Front, Frederick heard the Russians were marching home. We left Lehwaldt there after the fall of Memel. Following this event, Cossacks had been burning villages, plundering and murdering the locals with little real interference. To his credit, though, Apraxsin tried to restrain the army and the Cossacks, but only with the army was he successful.37 News of the cruelty spread far and wide. As soon as the king heard of these proceedings, he ordered Lehwaldt to go fight the Russians (July 17, 1757). The latter moved, now with only 25,000 men, to Wehlau—not 10 miles east of Königsberg—the army consisting of 17,000 infantry (in 22 battalions), 8,200 horse (in 50 squadrons), and 55 guns. There, against an enemy deployed among swampy, difficult ground, with the hamlet of Gross-Jägersdorf in front, he attacked the Russians on August 30. Lehwaldt lacked the boldness of the king, and he was wary of trying to stop the enemy without reinforcements. But he had no choice but to try.
The Russian army that made his task more difficult consisted of approximately 36,200 infantry, and 18,600 cavalry, a total of 54,800 men, with 263 guns.38 The invaders were thus superior in numbers in every category. In ordnance, the Russians were blessed with the so-called “Secret Howitzers,” 18-caliber long-barreled weapons that worked like a large shotgun. These were designed by the well-respected Petr Shuvalov. The gunners were instructed to keep a covering over the muzzle when not in use to conceal its design; hence the term “secret.”39 Of course, the Russians continued to utilize more conventional heavy ordnance as well.
Chapter Thirt
een
The Battle of Gross-Jägersdorf
Lehwaldt sent his men, in three columns, starting through the Puschdorfer Forest about 0100 hours on August 30. The first line had ten battalions, the second line eight garrison and two grenadier battalions, while Schorlemer’s cavalry was also at hand. Ground mist, enhanced by the darkness of an early summer morning, concealed the enemy, but the Prussians struck just after 0400 hours.
Lehwaldt ordered his troops to restrain their fire as long as possible (“Wait til you see the whites of their eyes,”) the first time, but not the last, this order was given on a battlefield. The Prussians were hoping against hope for a surprise.1
Apraxsin had already learned through his thick Cossack screen of Lehwaldt’s nearness, but he had been loose on the vigil because Prussians had not actually appeared. August 29, 1757, had found the Russians in the close-set country previously alluded to; from the Russian lines north to the Pregel, the Russians were surrounded by marshes and thick forest undergrowth. To the southwest of the Norkitten Wood, lay the hamlet of Gross-Jägersdorf not quite a mile from the beginning of the woods. “The battlefield was low, wavy and to the north from Pregel.”2 The Russians were nervous. Apraxsin was pressed by his subordinates (most notably Lt.-Gen. Yurii Lieven) to shift his army to the clearing around that hamlet. General Georg Browne was urging the same course, and both men thought of the imminence of Lehwaldt. The army was short on food, and Fermor ultimately convinced his commander to stay put where the troops could more readily get provisions.
In a misty, pre-dawn that soon gave way to a sunny, fine summer day, the Russians stirred before 0400 hours on August 30. Their first test with the Prussian arms was about to unfold. Sibilsky’s cavalry—led by the Cossacks—moved from near Uszubenden south towards Allenburg, followed by General Vasilii Lopukhin’s 2nd Division. Fermor’s 1st ran into delays and was unable to start until later than planned. Normally, this might not have been a problem. Now, with an imminent battle hanging over their heads, timing could be critical. Although Apraxsin could not know how near an encounter was, he had already set things in motion.
Frederick the Great and the Seven Years' War Page 24