Frederick the Great and the Seven Years' War

by Herbert J. Redman

  The center was positioned from the Nostitz bank of the Löbau Water, far behind Jauernick, the last considerable village before the Czernabog. The Austrian army was holding a position some seven miles long, not including Laudon. Daun’s men, when drawn together in a “proper” form, could cover (with a single line five ranks deep) a distance of more than three miles. In contrast, Frederick’s, if put in similar posture, could cover a little more than 11⁄2 miles. As for Laudon, he had extensive parties of Croats flung out into the thick woods just short of the Prussian posts at Hochkirch, his force being mostly horsemen. To the rear of the main army a little more than eight miles to the east on Reichenbach, Daun had taken the necessary precaution of placing a reserve consisting of 23,000 men under Baden-Durlach which had a double duty: while providing the needed reserves if necessary he was to bar the road to Görlitz should the enemy contrive to make it to his position. From Kittlitz to Löbau was a scant two miles, although some 20 from Zittau.

  The distances between the opposing armies at Hochkirch were alarming. The pickets were very near, not more than ½ mile really separated them. With the enemy in such superior strength and holding better positions to boot, Frederick’s subordinates tried in vain to talk him into breaking camp and either go forward or back but not to stay immobile. Keith, for example, bluntly told the king: “If the Austrians leave us quiet in a position like this, they deserve the hangman” Frederick replied, with a confident swagger familiar to readers of his history, “It is to be hoped that the enemy fears us more than the rope.”5

  In the low hollow below Hochkirch the opposing pickets were only cut off by the intervening ravine. Archenholtz, for one, thought the king encamped so close as “a mark of contempt and disregard of their [Austrian] forces.”6 The Austrian pickets were stronger, meant to conceal the impending stroke.

  Frederick had been making his plans to march. On October 12, he rode over to Weissenberg to discuss the plan he had drawn up with Retzow, under which the latter was to move on the morning of October 14, crossing over to and joining the Prussian left. Then the whole army was to move upon Baden-Durlach’s position, and get him shoved out of the way (in much the same fashion that had been used so effectively against Laudon at Bischofswerda). Following this a speedy march was to be made, with the Görlitz road now exposed, straight into Silesia. As it happened, the king planned for this maneuver to begin under cover of darkness on October 14–15, so that his men could be at Reichenbach and Schöps (a little hamlet northwest of Weissenberg) by dawn, before Marshal Daun could do anything about it.7

  By then the main Austrian army would not have a prayer of being able to move to aid Baden-Durlach before his lines could be compromised. Frederick, after explaining his plan to his subordinate, gave Retzow the appropriate orders then rode on to survey the ground thereabouts, after which he returned to his main camp. The maneuver was originally scheduled for the night of October 13–14, but Frederick had been forced to delay it for 24 hours in part because the wagons could not be brought forward from Bautzen in time. On this same October 12, Laudon and Daun had discussed the surprise stroke they had planned. The crux of this plan was the following (assuming the Prussians would be caught flat-footed in the early dawn): the Austrians, in their various groups, would cut off and hopefully hack to pieces the surprised Prussian army.

  Just after nightfall on October 13, Daun himself—with the best troops of the army—was to push off through the woods south of Wuischke. These the Prussians could not scout properly because Laudon and his men controlled them. In any case, the marshal was to lead the men through the undergrowth until they reached the edge of the Prussian right in front of Hochkirch Height, near Sornssig, then attack the foe in the pre-dawn. The march of this main force was to steer south, then veer towards Steindörfel, Waditz and the Prussian right. Once there, the troops were to wait until the steeple clock in Hochkirch Churchyard announced 0500 hours before going forward.

  Around the Prussian camp, the rest of the army was to draw out and wait until the enemy’s right had already been overrun before the Prussian posts before each section were struck. The entire army was thus to be brought to bear after all, so the plan was certainly not stretching goals. The desired end was within reach. Daun’s own contribution to the scheme is uncertain, but this was the first battle he ever precipitated. It was also, sadly for the Austrians, the only time the marshal would pull off such a slick maneuver upon Frederick.8 To cover his intentions from the enemy, Daun ordered large clumps of the forest cut down and new lines of abatis/entrenchments built, so giving Frederick the impression he was merely digging in all the more and thus had no plans for anything beyond pure defense. The woods had already been noticeably thinned by ceaseless activity in preparing the already formidable Austrian front. In the end, Daun was able to fool the foe completely.

  Frederick appeared almost lulled into sleep. Meanwhile, the marshal’s men took to the woods with axes in hand to cut down literally hundreds of trees, in the immediate vicinity of the Prussian center and right. By the next day, October 13, all was prepared. As the short autumn day waned, the pace quickened noticeably within the Austrian lines, as if they were preparing for some maneuver or expedition. Frederick perceived this although he would not admit it, perhaps believing Daun was preparing for one of his customary retirements, perhaps on Zittau. The king had mounted patrols, pickets scattered round the edge of the thick curtain of trees nearby, but he was convinced, no doubt from past experience, that Daun would never mount an attack, especially against an army led by himself.

  After darkness fell on October 13, Daun gathered his picked force of near 40,000 men and led them off through the woods on their appointed course. Behind them, the Austrians had left the campfires burning, an old ploy designed to give the impression they were still there. Officers made their presence known, shouting out orders to units that could no longer hear them. The sounds of cutting timber continued to reverberate. There were “workers [who] spent the whole night felling trees … [while they] called out to each other and sang.”9

  In the meantime, the main column reached its destination—the jumping off point before the Prussian camp—without interference. Laudon, over by Wuischke, was also moving into attack position. Here the marshal’s men stood in three varying columns of troops, waiting for sound of the bell announcing 0500 hours. On his end of the Austrian formation, Arenberg took his men past the Stromberg towards Laskau, where the bluecoats had their big battery on the left of Rodewitz. The muzzles were aiming into the woods, in case the Austrians should try something. Arenberg was waiting for his cue. This would be when he had evidence (either visual or otherwise) that Daun’s main body had already overwhelmed the Prussian right between Hochkirch and the battery. Plenty of such evidence would be forthcoming.

  Between these bodies, with support from auxiliary forces—these to apply pressure all along the Prussian camp—there was a good chance of overwhelming the foe. The attack was calculated to hit when it was least expected, adding to its effectiveness. The auxiliary forces were meant to annoy, divert, and confuse the Prussians to keep them off balance. The design for the small columns was necessitated by the thick woods and the geographic position, which would have made utilizing the entire army as a single unit impracticable.

  General O’Donnell was to lead such an auxiliary mission in the rear of the Prussian position north of Hochkirch itself; his command (like Laudon’s) consisted largely of cavalry, 20 squadrons of horse and only two regiments of infantry. O’Donnell’s command consisted of: 36th and 38th Infantry; 19th Dragoons, 4th and 33rd Cuirassiers and the old command of Luchessi, now led by Lt.-Gen. Buccow. Next in line was Laudon’s men and then Daun’s. To the right of the latter, again more to annoy than to attack, a force of 600 infantry, supported by the 1st and 38th Dragoons under Wiese, next to Field-Marshal Colloredo with the 7th, 26th, one battalion of the 57th Infantry, as well as the Mainz regiment supported by the 12th Cuirassiers, was to attack. Arenberg was next in line, and no
rth of him stood Buccow with 37 squadrons of cavalry. He had the unique distinction of leading an all cavalry assault column in the impending action.

  The main pressure had to be exerted by Daun/Laudon against the Prussian positions in and about Hochkirch. Here depended the whole success or failure of the proposal. Far to the rear, Baden-Durlach, responding to orders, was moving up to do battle with Retzow out beyond the water near Weissenberg. The army was waiting only for the jump off.

  In contrast, the greater portion of the Prussian army was still in bivouac, the men little suspecting the unpleasant surprise which the enemy was preparing for them. In the thick woods amid the formidable undergrowth, the way was now sufficiently clear to provide no obstacle to the attackers. The Prussians had suspicions, but nothing more.

  Before the hour of 0500 on that fateful morning, October 14, Daun’s men reached their assigned attack points. A number of Austrian “deserters” made their way to the Prussian forward posts and were admitted to the lines. When the time came, they accessed weapons and started firing at their new “friends.”10 These men had a tough job. The main body was to strike and roll over the Prussian posts between the big battery and Hochkirch, just where the enemy’s army was at its strongest in terms of terrain and the additional man-made obstacles. On the left, the troops of Laudon were preparing to pounce upon Ziethen’s unsuspecting cavalry (he had three battalions, 15 squadrons, holding the westernmost end of the Prussian line). As for Arenberg, he was poised before the Prussian left, anchored between Kotitz and Laskau.

  In spite of the surprise which the Austrians pulled off, there was nothing that could be called a rout. This fact is directly attributable to the tough training that these soldiers of Prussia were subjected to to make them fierce in battle. The looked for thrashing might have been expected in a lesser army, but Frederick’s men, though brought out prematurely in a morning surprise, formed and fought a pitched battle, with more order than could have been expected under the circumstances. Perhaps the conditions were better than many histories of the battle have implied. Certainly there had been deserters from Daun bringing in reports that the Austrians were moving, and we have already observed the hussars had put out the alarm.

  The artillery teams of the battery in front of Hochkirch had gone to post about 0300 hours that morning, waiting for the usual demonstration of enemy outparties. Generally for about a week, the enemy had been sending Croats/Pandours out to harass the bluecoats. Elsewhere in the predawn, there were still pickets, outparties, and mounted sentinels about, so that when the battle began the Prussians at first believed it was merely the usual demonstration. The horses of the Prussian cavalry stood saddled through the night, waiting for the horsemen. Seydlitz apparently “bypassed” the king’s directive by unsaddling his horses and then shortly after countermanded the order.11 This was a violation of Frederick’s stand down order. On the southward end of the big battery and right flank stood the duly vigilant guard forces. Under such circumstances, the Prussian army could hardly have been caught napping (if readers will pardon the pun).

  Meanwhile, out in the thick woods, several men who were less than enthusiastic about the Austrian cause picked this very dark night on which to desert. As the rank-and-file soldiers were not privy to the attack scheme, these men could provide little help beyond telling the Prussians the army was on the move.

  When the appointed time drew near, the king’s men thought there might not be the usual showing at all. Then some men from Angelelli’s Free Corps, catching the foe at a glimpse advancing through the woods, opened a rapid, deliberate musket fire upon them, which precipitated the opening of the battle. A confused struggle broke out then and there, and raged on in the thick brush for ½ hour or more, the Prussian outparties all the while being gradually forced to give ground under the weight of numbers from their forward positions. This fight was assumed back at camp to be nothing more than the usual,12 but instead of tapering off after a time, the clash became more intense and got closer.

  The artillery teams stationed south of Hochkirch turned their guns towards the southern end of the outworks and fired, concluding obviously if the enemy were in strength then they would have artillery to reply with. Receiving no reply, the batteries were then swung round at the direction of the fighting. They were taken under fire and promptly overrun by Laudon’s advancing troops, who had come forward upon their rear from Meschwitz and Waditz. One of our great contemporary historians, Georg Tempelhof, present near the Great Battery, managed to get off about “fifteen rounds before I received a blow that knocked me senseless.”13 Daun was simultaneously sweeping in from the front. Shortly the entire section of the Prussian line there was in enemy hands, and some of the bluecoats had yet to realize that a battle was raging at all.

  The Austrians now burst through the undergrowth on all sides of the camp,14 and a confused, mostly hand-to-hand struggle was quickly taken up. The Prussians, at last awake, made a fierce, determined resistance, but finding themselves on the southern end all but surrounded by the far more numerous Austrians, they had to pull back. This extrication was accomplished only with the use of the bayonet, and the troops paused a short distance to their rear. Ziethen, by now mounted and ready, charged the surging Austrian formations, broke some, and before they could retreat, killed a great many of the enemy. But Ziethen’s stamina could not stay, and he likewise drew back. The cavalry, to their credit, did do their best here. The earlier Prussian debâcle at Kolin, in sharp contrast, had seen the Prussian horse very ineffective.

  At length, the Austrians, although they did indeed have to earn their success the hard way, aided by superior numbers, pressed the thinning Prussian line back upon the battery, which they finally took. The grenadiers of Wangen and Heyden were unable to stem the relentless Austrian advance. Heyden led grenadiers from the brave 19th and the 25th infantry, along with Wangen’s men. These two units, in direct support of the battery, fought very hard, some of it in hand-to-hand combat, before yielding to the inevitable.15 A counterattack drove them back out, though Daun, coming up with overwhelming reinforcements, again pressed the foe back and retook his prize. The battery changed hands many more times before the whitecoats, in irresistible mass, were finally able to push Frederick’s men beyond reach and that important post was irretrievably lost to them.

  Meanwhile, Major Simon von Langen, with the 2nd battalion of the 19th Infantry (General Karl Friedrich Albrecht of Brandenburg-Schwedt), seeing the general tide of the fight edging back upon Hochkirch, flung himself and his men into the place and took post in the Church/Churchyard, strengthening it as quickly as he could combat the enemy. His arrival was fortuitous for Lieutenant von der Marwitz, originally commanding a squad at the churchyard. Marwitz, desperately wounded in the chest, continued to exercise command until Langen’s arrival. The stroke against Hochkirch had indeed been a surprise. Marwitz was captured and subsequently died in captivity.

  Saldern’s 15th Infantry, on the Pommritz Heights, lost heavily in killed/wounded and prisoners. 618 men, plus 13 officers, “fell.”16 Other units were in deep trouble as well. A thick fog had formed and the dawn was breaking in dense darkness. Hochkirch itself was soon on fire, whether started deliberately by the Prussians or however ignited is not clear, which lit up the battle now raging about it.17 The attackers poured into the village, through the narrow streets, quickly overlapping the barricaded defenders. Langen’s men fired obstinately against the Austrians who charged the churchyard wall, while other Prussian forces outside recoiled and regrouped to come on again and retake Hochkirch. The enemy kept pouring in new troops, reaching a strength of seven full regiments.

  The king tried to reassure his troops that the sound of the fight was a mere Croat exercise, but Captain Karl Ludwig von Troschke’s intelligence that the redoubt south of Hochkirch was already in enemy hands and their advance was pressing on relentlessly took him aback. About then, one of 23rd Infantry (Forcade’s) battalions launched an unsupported attack, but after an initial burst,
it had to beat a hasty retreat when the Austrians threatened to overlap it. Langen kept his men steady and riddled those white-uniformed opponents with heavy musketry. Nevertheless, the Austrians soon had burning Hochkirch cleared of Prussians round the churchyard, then redoubled their effort to seize it as well. The converging Austrian blows naturally forced masses of Prussian troops into the narrow streets of Hochkirch. This included men outside of Langen’s command area, although, with graphic detail, the streets were said to be running in rivers of blood. The crowding was so bad that the bodies of the dead were still held in their upright postures.18

  Steady concentrated fire swathed the attacking line, but the intruders, nothing daunted, kept exerting pressure against Langen’s position. Langen might have done more had his ammunition been more plentiful (remember the Prussian army was not expecting the surprise attack). But with the men down to a few rounds apiece in many cases, he had no option but to order his troops to abandon their hotly contested post and cut their way through the thickly-packed ranks of Daun’s men, who had advanced, kicking and clawing for every yard, past the place. A few of the Prussians from the churchyard did indeed make it back to their own lines, clearing the way largely with the bayonet. But the greater majority were killed in a hopeless struggle with an enemy too numerous to beat, and there and then got cut down; Major Langen, a fine Prussian officer with a potential for a great future, being mortally wounded himself—going down with 11 distinct wounds.