Frederick the Great and the Seven Years' War

by Herbert J. Redman

  In the event, the bluecoats (October 29) erupted against their post with a rather large cavalry patrol, followed up by the October 30 march. Frederick moved out from Lützen about 0300 hours on October 31, in heavy rain. During this march up, the energetic Szėchėny Hussars were at it again, nipping all along the line of march. But the latter apparently failed to send a messenger to Weissenfels to warn the garrison of the enemy’s approach, for the men there were completely surprised. This latter force consisted of four battalions and 18 companies of grenadiers, all but three of which were French. All told, some 5,000 men under the Duke de Crillon. The Prussian arrival of Mayr’s forward men occurred outside of Weissenfels about 0800 hours on October 31, followed shortly by the king and the rest of the army he brought—two grenadier battalions and 35 squadrons of horse, in addition to Mayr’s men.12 Keith promptly moved on Merseburg.

  The Allies closed up the town, and prepared forthwith for action, intending to dispute the Prussian advance. The bluecoats unlimbered their artillery and commenced firing on the town gate, while the grenadiers and Mayr’s men moved up to knock out the obstructions. The attackers were ready to pounce. A few well-aimed hits cleared the way, and all of the allied resolve to resist went up in literal smoke as the Prussians sprang forward. With no choice now but retreat, the allies fell away from the action, back across the bridge. As they withdrew, they set fire to the structure to prevent their foe from immediately pursuing them. The resulting conflagration consumed the wooden structure so rapidly that some 630 men were lost, most of these of the garrison were trapped and had no option but surrendering to the bluecoats with their arms and equipment.13

  Hildburghausen, sleeping two miles away at his headquarters, was immediately awoken by the shaken survivors. He steadied the remnant of the garrison about Burgwerben (where his main body was deployed), and ordered a barrage laid down across the Saale to prevent Prussian attempts to effect repairs to the bridge. The king’s prepared gunners replied, and the two opponents shelled each other until about 1500 hours.

  Scouts sent forth by Frederick, from near Deblitz, when he realized he would be unable to make use of the crossing at Weissenfels, soon found a suitable crossing point only a short distance away at Klingen, just below Weissenfels. Engineers at once rushed to the site with all necessary materials to complete a bridge. The Prussian guns continued to keep up their deadly—or at least very noisy—work, largely to hold Hildburghausen’s attention away from the new business developing about Klingen.

  Frederick’s overall situation was now very desperate, as he was stymied in all directions. Had the Allies held the line of the Saale River against him, there would have been little recourse beyond foolish attempts to storm prepared enemy works behind the barrier of the river. Even factoring in the relative quality of the two opponents, the defenders in this case would have a very lop-sided advantage over the attacking Prussians. Instead, their next move demonstrated the Allied high command’s mediocrity: they gave up the useful barrier of the Saale and retired towards Burgwerben and Tagwerben, with the intervening hilly country still between them and the Prussians. This was done with nary a whimper. Hildburghausen consented to abandon his camp and marched through Storkau to link up with Soubise; who had himself plowed forward from Reichardtswerben through Kaynau. The Frenchman arrived there on November 1, and promptly set up his headquarters at Gross-Körbetha. This move placed the advanced patrols over near Merseburg. Clearly now, the Prussians were in the offing, and the Allies would soon have to join forces. Hildburghausen was worried about his vulnerable supply link to Erfurt, which the enemy would love to severe. At that moment, no coordinated plan was in effect in the Allied camp, a strange revelation in view of the present times.

  Undoubtedly, though, there was more to the situation. The Allies were almost completely in the dark about Frederick’s intentions. There was good reason for this. Despite the fact the Saxons had been ill-used by their northern neighbors, the peasants still maintained good feelings towards Frederick’s soldiers. In fact, “Soubise could find no spies there.”14 One can thus conclude the peasants distrusted the Prussians less than the French, ostensibly their allies. Besides, the pleasure-loving Soubise15 may have just found an unlikely match in the apparently indolent Hildburghausen. One of the latter’s subordinates wrote of him, among many habits, he liked “to sleep for some ten hours’ a day.”16 Just how many days, at least during this campaign, he was able to practice this “habit” is not known.

  The night of October 31–November 1, Frederick’s engineers finished their new bridge. In the morning, Marshal Keith reached Merseburg and found to his discomfort the bridge there destroyed. On the far bank, Soubises’ men were fully prepared to dispute Prussian passage.17

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Battle of Rossbach1

  Keith detached Prince Ferdinand to go on to Halle; the latter discovered the bridge there knocked down, and Broglie awaiting him on the opposite side.2 However, southwards at the completed bridge (near Weissenfels at Herran-Mühle), the Prussians had already penetrated the Saale on the same day. Frederick’s men speedily traversed the river barrier as soon as light and the engineers gave the O.K. Again incredibly, the Imperialist guard force made no legitimate effort to try to contain the Prussian crossing.3

  So despite the fact the Allies held the river against Keith at Merseburg and Ferdinand at Halle, there was now no means at hand to fling Frederick’s army back over the Saale near Weissenfels short of a battle, a contingency for which they did not feel they were ready. Early on November 2, therefore, the Combined Army withdrew into the higher country near Müchelin. Hildburhausen had finally assented to join Soubise, as the latter categorically refused to join him, but it was a discouraged, worried French commander that he discovered. The Imperialists themselves suffered an utter, complete breakdown of the logistics. Through an unfortunate error, the Reich’s supply train had gotten rerouted from its original crossing point at Weissenfels (which was largely because the French supply convoys were already jamming the way to near gridlock). The newly rerouted convoy promptly ran straight into a Prussian patrol and was lost after a short altercation. This exacerbated what was already a bad situation. In addition, Hildburghausen’s force had been divided up to guard the Saale. Baden-Durlach had a force holding the crossings at Naumburg and Dornburg and their vicinity.

  Meanwhile, freed from enemy interference by their foolish move, Marshal Keith and Prince Ferdinand repaired their respective bridges and hastily marched their force across the Saale on November 2–3.4 The pair then moved to link up with the king, a juncture not accomplished until 1900 hours. Frederick had reached Bedra before the rendezvous could become a fact, and the united throng marched on Braunsdorf, where the bluecoats pitched their tents.

  Here the monarch learned the Combined Allied force was at Müchelin, facing due northwards and evidently expecting an attack from that side. The right wing, facing the bulk of the Prussian force, was actually inviting what might be a decisive blow. The impending darkness and the fact the Keith-Ferdinand force arrived late precluded battle.

  Instead, the king sent Seydlitz with some horsemen to conduct some mischief against the enemy, as well as probe for any weak spots inviting success in an attack. With 1500 troopers, the indomitable gentleman proceeded with his appointed duty, trying to rattle the cage of the opponent. Seydlitz returned (at about 1230 hours) with information that the enemy lay in an inadequate military position inviting defeat. Frederick weighed his options, carefully. He had some 16,600 infantry (27 battalions) and 5,400 horse (45 squadrons) with him. The Prussian artillery complement consisted of 79 guns, of which 23 were of heavy caliber. But the alternatives, with enemies weighing in on every side, were effectively reduced to one: attack. The deed was set for dawn the next day, November 4. “One battle will [finish] the matter,” Frederick tartly informed Keith. To borrow an old cliché, “truer words were never spoken.” About 0200 hours, the bluecoats moved off towards the enemy encampment, the mo
on shining brightly overhead.

  The king rode at the head of his troops, hoping against hope that the enemy might be caught by surprise. Drawing upon their works, he saw Soubise had shifted his position, this time facing east and the bluecoats head-on. The Austrian cavalry reported sighting their foe about 0600 hours; but Seydlitz’ patrols had already alerted the Allies that something was afoot.

  The new encampment had its flanks and front protected by thick woods supplementing new batteries of big guns to sweep the approaches. The enemy were likely to destroy any attack at long range with their artillery,5 and Frederick felt an assault against a thoroughly prepared foe enjoying a 3–to–1 superiority in numbers, was to invite another defeat like Kolin. Orders to withdraw were forthwith issued by the king, while the Allies opened up on them with their batteries. Simultaneously, the Allied light troops went forth to nip at the Prussian rearguard, causing some confusion in their ranks.

  About 0930 hours, the deed was a done deal. Bluecoat forces which had occupied positions close at hand withdrew on Bedra and Rossbach. To shield the retreat, the cavalry, on the Shortau Heights, stayed put. Then came an event which would have great significance for the Prussians before 24 hours had elapsed. Brettlache advanced with the Austrian horse; six squadrons and accompanied by some 600 infantry and six heavy guns. The latter ordnance were immediately unlimbered to shell the bluecoats, but the latter withdrew before the matter could further proceed.

  This “battle” gave the Combined Army the false impression that it had defeated the great King Frederick, and went a long way towards restoring Soubise’s confidence about a major tussle with the foe. Perhaps the only advantage this day offered for the Prussians. Bluecoat patrols sourly noted the Te Deum going on in the enemy’s camp, although there had been no battle. The French, in particular, seemed suddenly to be re-energized. Many of the ranking commanders urged Soubise to move at once against the “faltering” enemy.6 “This attack would be alone, without help [from Hildburghausen],” if necessary.7

  As for Frederick, he spent some time beyond the confines of Bedra, contemplating his next move, while his army returned “cooly” to camp. The situation required the immediate reorganization of the Prussian bivouac. It was altered under the king’s orders to front Rossbach, a little village some 51⁄2 miles northwest of Weissenfels, for which the coming battle would be christened. Although time was still precious, the troubled, but determined, monarch intended to hold the enemy close at hand until threatened starvation should compel them to make a move. He knew the Imperialists in particular, but all of the Allied forces were beginning to run short on provisions. Frederick counted on his own crack troops to withstand short rations for longer than the ill-disciplined enemy soldiers could.

  Soubise, for all his bluster, was inclined towards timidity. He received advice from Pierre Bourcet, one of his more competent officers, that he should take the army in a wide swing round the enemy flank and severe the Prussian line-of-communication, thus compelling Frederick to fight a major battle. Soubise was also encouraged by a report from Hildburghausen. The latter was convinced the events just concluded proved their opponent had no intention of directly attacking the Combined Army. The Imperialist commander even concluded, with little supporting evidence, that Frederick meant only a flanking move, to cut the Allies off from Freiburg—their communication post. To counter this, Hildburghausen stated a march to seize the heights of Schevenroda was absolutely imperative, in order to strike the king’s little army from a position of strength. This communication was sent about 0500 hours, with an emphasis on the urgency of the matter.

  The Count of St. Germain and Laudon had been ordered to send a detail to take point of vantage so they could directly observe the Prussian camp. St. Germain was despatched to Gröst (about three miles west of Rossbach) with eight battalions and 13 full squadrons of mounted men, as soon as Hildburghausen’s fateful intelligence arrived. For his part, Soubise was preparing, at last, to march. St. Germain’s task was actually a double one: as well as playing the part of an observer he was designated to cover Soubise’s left wing during the impending maneuver. Prussian patrols were driven from their stations by the newcomers. At Storkau, Soubise and Hildburghausen conferred about the next steps to take.

  Soubise still did not want to fight a full-scale battle with Frederick; his only aim in the short run was to derive whatever advantages he could from the limited engagement he believed the king would have to fight when the Allies threatened to severe his ties from the Saale. By contrast, Hildburghausen was anxious to give the enemy their knockout blow and be done with it. He thought the war could be ended by winning a smashing victory. Probably so; but was he (and Soubise) in a position to deliver one?

  The previous day, November 4, on taking survey of the Prussian camp all drawn out below, Soubise8 badly underestimated the number of troops that it contained by some 50 percent because of the rolling terrain. He confidently extrapolated that the enemy camp held a mere 10,000 men. Needless to say, this faulty bit of “intelligence” served only to increase the confidence of Hildburghausen and stiffen Soubise’s weak backbone for the coming struggle. Frederick could not have planned it any better. In any case, had the Allies discerned the correct quantity of Prussians opposed to them, it probably would have made little difference. After all, they still had a great numerical superiority on their side of the equation.

  That morning, some of Laudon’s irregulars had skirted round the Prussian camp and torn down the bridge at Herran-Mühle. This action guaranteed that Frederick’s line-of-retreat across the Saale short of Merseburg would be cut off, and Laudon’s action was known at the Allied headquarters. Finally, before 0800 hours, Soubise acceded to his comrade’s request for immediate action. The Frenchman at once ordered his troops to prepare to march, although the progress was hindered by his insistence on waiting for the foragers to rejoin the ranks before proceeding.

  At 1100 hours, Soubise ordered the tents struck and within half an hour the French army was in full march. Hildburghausen had already started his troops about 1100 hours.9 It has been asserted, probably correctly, the reason Soubise started so late in the day was his desire for a light, rather limited, engagement with the Prussians. The Combined Army moved out in three columns. It was 1130 hours, November 5, 1757.

  On the coming battle, the Prussian king was staking the future existence of his country. At this stage, defeat would mean his utter ruin, and, under the dire circumstances, even a signal victory could provide at best a breathing space, but a useful pause. As it would work out, the events that would launch Frederick into the ranks of history’s Great Captains were already inexorably underway.10

  First, we need to look at the field where the opposing forces were preparing for battle. There were two high points in the region: the Janus Hill and the Pölzen Hill. Neither was exceptionally commanding, but guns placed on both of them could certainly be used with effect, as it turned out. The immediate terrain was largely rolling. Rossbach lay in the middle of a sandy plain flanked by higher ground on the west, south, and east. But the village was elevated sufficiently to dominate a view of Müchelin, with just a shallow hollow between them. This would be an important topographical feature in the upcoming struggle. This recess was traversed by a little branch from the Saale. This stream split the hamlet of Bedra in two and ran to near Gröst and Almsdorf (which were on the direct road to Freiburg, visible to the southwest of Janus Hill some eight miles distant).

  The two rises were northeast of Rossbach, and the intervening country was largely devoid of woods or underbrush. The two hills rose up enough to block the view from the south of the country near Zeuchfeld—a small hamlet to the southwest of Rossbach—of any movements north of them. This was another important factor in the battle. South of Rossbach, was Pettstädt, some two miles distant, which marked the limit of the plain, a further mile beyond towards Obschütz, the terrain began rising gradually. Just northeast of Obschütz, the two little hamlets of Tagwerben and Reichart
swerben were located. This was the area in which the Battle of Rossbach was about to be fought.

  Soubise’s force moved through Branderoda towards Zeuchfeld, where the three columns of the throng were condensed into two larger processions. The Szėchėny Hussars, together with the Apchon Dragoons, and Nassau Hussars, were covering. The first column was of 16 Austrian/Imperialist squadrons, 16 French battalions, and 12 French squadrons.11 In like vein, the second column consisted of 16 battalions of French infantry and 17 Austrian/Imperialist squadrons. There was a third, much smaller body of men; the French reserve. Broglie, commanding here, had eight battalions, 10 squadrons, and 11 Imperialist battalions. The front consisted of the cavalry of Brettlache,12 and Hildburghausen was present with this body. This was followed next by the French and Imperialist infantry. The first column was on the left, the second to its right, beyond the latter, the command of St. Germain was deployed at Gröst. Between the two massive moving bodies of men the horses towing the allied artillery were marched.

  It was a measure of the day that no advanced guard was pushed out in front of the disordered Combined Army. With an enemy as wily as the Prussian king, this was not a wise move. Worse, there was no deployment plan in place, so the men moved out, still burdened by their haversacks (those that were so equipped). The general feeling prevailing that morning among the Allies seemed to be there would be no battle that day. Soubise had taken the time to gather in his foragers before moving out, which would inevitably have slowed the pace of the French march. Really, though, Soubise’s heart was never in the enterprise anyway.

  Within the formations of the Combined Army some 42,000 of the troops marched, the remaining number were with Laudon and St. Germain holding positions forward of the vacated Allied camp. St. Germain extended his lines to Almsdorf, with Laudon just south of Gröst near Schevenroda. The army consisted of the following: the French had some 30,000 men (in 49 battalions), 6,000 cavalry (divided up into 40 squadrons), and 32 guns; the Austrian/Imperialist contingent contributed nearly 30,000 additional troops and 12 heavy guns. The latter force were largely cavalry, but the infantry present had the advantage of superior training compared to the French.