Schmettau was forced into desperate measures. He gave orders that, if threatened with capture, the garrison was to set fire to the southern suburbs. This was considered necessary if the Prussians were to hope to retain the city. Schmettau knew that Daun’s men could not traverse the flames into the capital. He communicated words to that effect to Daun, who apparently did not surmise that Schmettau was speaking seriously, for he soon challenged the statement. Night of November 9–10, the marshal sent his army towards Dresden. Mayr sortied and Daun opposed him with the Croats.
The Prussians of Itzenplitz were also active at this time, joined by the Belling Hussars. At the so-called Zinzendorf Park, a four gun battery had been set up. As Mayr and Belling’s men fell back under heavy pressure from Daun’s increasingly active force, this battery commenced to go to work pounding at the Austrian attackers. Mayr and Itzenplitz gave ground all the way to the Pirna Gate by that point. Under cover of the shelling, the Prussians were able to rally. In the gathering darkness, and with all the artillery work, the Austrians appeared to have lost some of their cohesion. Thus emboldened, the bluecoats counterattacked and forced the enemy to concede their gains. Daun’s men were forced back, with heavy losses. With the Austrians for all intents and purposes beaten back, Itzenplitz’s men withdrew towards the other end of town, while Mayr kept to the southern suburbs.
During the night, following what Mayr believed were the Austrians trying to make entrenchments, he informed Schmettau. Ironically, Daun had lost all interest in trying to grab the city. Nonetheless, about 0200 hours, Schmettau gave the dreaded order. Fires started right beside the Pirna Gate and spread towards Wilsdrüf. The prevailing wind prevented the entire city from being engulfed. However, once the deed was done, Schmettau had to act coldly. When the distraught mayor appeared and tried to order the fire-engines deployed, Schmettau abruptly ordered the gates sealed. This was considered a military necessity to prevent the Austrians from breaking in. In a matter of some three hours, much damage was done. Freyberg, simultaneously as he was told not to go to the aid of the people outside, Kollas ordered him, in no uncertain terms, to have the fire engines available in case the fires spread into Dresden proper. As it turned out, there were serious shortages in crews for the units, since some lived outside the gates and could not get in and others were on guard against the aroused soldiery that was essentially rioting.
Schmettau feared for the safety of his posts and ordered Kollas to fetch three fire engines from Freyberg. Simultaneously, the ground around area was wetted down. There was little choice, so city leaders were enrolled as crews and sent to work fighting the fires with as much energy as they could muster. As soon as Daun was apprised of the unfortunate developments of the early morning he was at once sad and infuriated. Sad that the fire had occurred in the first place, especially as he had tried for the opposite effect. Mad that Schmettau had allowed it to take place. The marshal wrote of this act that the enemy had, “transgressed against … Christendom, Politics, and Humanity.”22 This communication was brought by Colonel Kajetan von Zawosky to the walls of Dresden. He met with a rather cold reception from the Prussian officer of the watch. A long interlude ensued before Schmettau deigned send out someone to meet with this communication. The Prussian Major von Puttkammer appeared then to talk to Zawosky. When the latter insisted he would converse with no one except for Schmettau, Puttkammer demurred.
Zawosky was summarily blindfolded and brought before Schmettau and Itzenplitz. When the gist of the Daun communiqué was conveyed to the Prussians, they were incensed. Schmettau insisted he had acted as a proper soldier should and Itzenplitz added the king was en route to their aid in Dresden.23 Zawosky was given the assurance—to pass on to Daun—the word the royal family was safe and sound at the Palace. As we have observed, Schmettau had filled the available spaces of the palace with highly combustible materials like gunpowder and shells, as well as the Palace Courtyard.24 With that, the interview was abruptly terminated and the “Austrian” (actually Saxon) officer was escorted back to his lines. With some retrospect, we can certainly see that Schmettau acted rather rashly. But, considering the size of the enemy opposed to him, that commander acted with as much circumspection as he felt he could have. The unfortunate damage so inflicted upon Dresden was bad, but was mostly minimized.
The aftermath of the Dresden fire was most distressing for all concerned. Thousands of the citizenry were homeless as a result, and many were the family members hunting through the wreckage left in the wake of the conflagration. It took a while to get things under control and smoking ruins to simmer down.25 Graf Solms, acting with the marshal fully behind him, set out to the rescue of the unfortunates as much as he possibly could. The army’s bakery outfit was put to work forthwith baking for starving people and straw was distributed on Palace grounds to help shelter the homeless. This early attempt at “social welfare” was a rather meaningful success. Solm’s efforts did go a long way to redress the cruel thing which had been visited upon the citizenry. November 11, the town council tried to address the broader issues of aid for the people in the burned out suburbs. Nonetheless, Schmettau did not prove to be very cooperative and absolutely refused to sanction opening the gates for at least one more full day under any circumstances. Militarily, he acted with all of the caution he should have, but the great humanitarian, Schmettau was not. Still the city council did all it could to ensure relief, but the Prussian feeling was that such individuals as passed beyond gates could be regarded with some suspicion as enemy intelligence agents.
There were some ironies of the state of Dresden. People were in desperate need of bread with regard to the present, but plenty of flour was readily available in raw form in local mills. There was another problem that needed addressed. Bodies of people who had lost their lives in the fire were decomposing, some half a dozen. This was really creating a health risk to the citizens of the city, both inside and outside. The gates were still closed to the through traffic and it was only through exit from the other gates that people went out and picked up the bodies. Out of the damage areas, there had been much looting going on. Daun had the malefactors that fell into his hands condemned to death by hanging.26 A couple of the innocent civilians had been burned up directly in the fire.27 One of these individuals was a member of that long tradition, the news criers, a humpback indigent by the name of Roszlar. The total of burned houses amounted to 285.28 The city council set up a network to collect funds to help the victims of the fire. What this amounted to was a charity outfit operating throughout the German Reich.
The marshal was beside himself with indignation. However, the livid condition of Daun did not last long. Already on November 11, the marshal’s correspondence reflected he did not think the damage from the fire was nearly as severe as he had been led to believe. It soon became patently obvious, even with the fire, Daun’s men could have leveraged out both Finck and Schmettau’s men with an overwhelming force. This was the feeling of Vienna. There were other considerations. Unlike the situation with regard to the Königstein, which even the Prussians did not agree with, Dresden was not neutral and it was not an open town. It was a fortress, pure and simple. Schmettau thought so, Zweibrücken thought so, and even the marshal did. Everyone agreed on that.
This effectively halted Daun’s advance, and brought to an end the “Siege of Dresden.” The Austrian marshal’s men, who had been engaged in erecting siege batteries, halted at the sight of this conflagration. This is true warfare, then?
At a high cost, Schmettau had stemmed the enemy’s advance. Daun did not make another attempt, so the bluecoats, after all, saved Dresden from the clutches of the enemy. Neverthe kept its ground, not venturing towards Dresden. Back in Silesia, Frederick, seeing that the foe had practically evacuated the province upon his approach, quickly divided his army into three groups: one under himself and the last two under Ziethen and Prince Henry. Ziethen had instructions to remain in Silesia and guard it, while the others started back in the direction of Saxony. The
head of the marching troops pointed towards Lusatia—off to the northwest—on November 15, Frederick was at Lauban. Just as his men reached that place, Daun received word of his march.
The latter knew his adversary was again within supporting distance of Schmettau by then, and the siege would now have to be abandoned. During the day (November 15) Daun had his army prepare for marching, and then moved back to his fortified camp at Pirna. Schmettau, who was still in danger, was thus saved, and Prussian control of Dresden. Daun was tailed by Zweibrücken, and the remaining allied forces near the Saxon capital.29 The king reached Dresden on November 20. Simultaneously, the allied forces concluded their campaign by falling back into friendly territory.
Nevertheless, Daun again shared much of the blame for the failure of the effort to relieve the Saxon capital. The plodding seemed almost inconceivable to individuals like Flemming. The latter, after all the excitement generated by what the campaign could have accomplished, had to once again settle for “what might have been.” Now we do not want to make light of the tragedy of the siege, which culminated with this fire, but initial reports were often prone to extreme exaggeration. For example, the irate ambassador Ponickau, relying on less than reliable information, produced a report that contained fallacies. Stories like Prussian soldiers had dragged screaming children and thrown them to their deaths in the flames, bayoneted their elders, and burned down a tavern crowded with dozens of Saxon citizens locked inside! Little wonder this “intelligence,” once it was distributed, caused a backlash against the Prussians. Still, a sixth of the Saxon capital had been burned to the ground.30
Of course, the mere fact that these latter accusations were all false should not stand in the way of their circulation. Remember, bad news usually travels much faster and even farther than good news. On the other hand, although the allied courts seemed incensed, they did precious little to act against the “brutes” occupying Dresden. There was really remarkably little effort given to occupy any of Saxony. Even Leipzig was considered a stretch by the marshal. In point, Daun had no intention of wintering anywhere north of Bohemia at the end of 1758. Even though Kaunitz himself had often urged the capture of at least Neisse before 1758 concluded.31 In this, the marshal was, surprisingly enough, backed up by Maria Theresa. Apparently she considered the campaign of 1758 a wash, and the monarch was looking forward to that of 1759 with greater favor. As for Count Kaunitz, he seemed to be content to leave the power of the army almost intact by not fighting for Dresden. The marshal, with a heavy heart, prepared to retire.
On November 16, Daun moved out before daylight, hitching temporarily at Berggiesshübel. The other contingents likewise made ready to go. November 21, the Austrians started to retreat. On November 25, they drew up at the field of Lobositz, which still bore some of the damage inflicted on it during that October battle in 1756. By November 28, the men were safely ensconced in Prague, and their part of the campaign was effectively at an end.
November 6, at Grosswossen, the Prussian king received, with some relief, the welcome news that the enemy was abandoning the field.32 He moved to Schweidnitz (November 9), staying overnight only long enough to send out feelers. The king had heard of the abandonment of the Siege of Neisse. Next day, the royal quarters were Röhnstock and, finally on November 13, Löwenburg. Riders reached Frederick here with the news that the marshal was pulling out. He pressed on to Dresden.
Wedell was in Berlin on October 31. Shortly, he was ordered to march for Saxony to redress the situation there. Pressing on to Herzberg (November 11), he marched, with some alarcity, for Torgau, November 12. Same day, a roving Prussian patrol, led by Lossow, launched a counterattack against one of Hadik’s patrols at Entenfangs. The advance of the latter had threatened a position, but Lossow finally had to give way. When Hadik’s men appeared in force before Torgau, Lossow’s men fought hard to prevent Hadik from gaining his objective. With the hussars alone, the situation was touch and go. The fighting had been going on for about an hour when, about 1100 hours, Wedell’s advanced guard suddenly appeared. This threw Hadik into a quandary. He broke off his assault (1600 hours) and moved to Düben. Retiring on Eilenburg finally, after destroying the bridge at Düben, Hadik momentarily paused. This fitted in well with Zweibrücken’s attempted advance on Leipzig. Hadik was to provide flank protection on the Mulde against possible enemy countermeasures.
This was the last sizable allied effort of the campaign. Zweibrücken was emboldened by the return of Luzinsky’s hard riding hussars. The Imperialists got to Waldheim on November 13. This seemed the best shot yet for Zweibrücken to do something. He had been largely minimized during the whole campaign. While Zweibrücken was paused, the Prince of Liechtenstein, with 1,500 men, moved on Leipzig. Other detachments occupied nearby posts.
The Imperialists appeared on the verge of a big offensive. Then, on the evening of November 12, like proverbial cold water on a fire, a rider called Captain Rupert returned from Fermor’s men. He brought disturbing news. The Russians were retiring into winter quarters, Daun was retiring and that left Zweibrücken alone to face the enemy. Despite this salient fact, Zweibrücken briefly tried his best to finish up what he had started. Daun reported to him that the Austrians would be unable to keep the field. The Imperial leader, moreover, informed Zweibrücken that the king was at Görlitz and Prince Henry at Greiffenberg. On November 15, a swift move upon Colditz produced a union of Zweibrücken with a terse note from Hadik. The latter reported on the arrival of Dohna in the immediate vicinity. Zweibrücken did say, with some reservation, that he expected to be in Leipzig by November 17. After this, word arrived that Eilenburg had fallen to the Prussians again. Wedell was discovered to be united to Dohna’s men. The combined force was advancing to meet the Imperialist threat. Dohna took command of the combined force.
Word reached Dohna and the Prussians, on November 15, that Zweibrücken had accomplished his purpose of taking Leipzig. This was simply not true.33 Dohna moved out to confront Hadik, who took up a strategic location on a rise to the west of Eilenburg. Hadik pushed out patrols from Kuhlschau on Paschwitz and Sprotta. The reconnaissance effort was thwarted by Prussian forces encamped at Doberschütz. They could not detect the sudden eruption of Dohna’s men. This enabled a sizable force to appear. About 1330 hours, the Prussians struck; Hadik’s outbound forces tumbled back towards Eilenburg. He reacted by pressing out a detachment to secure the bridge crossing over the Mulde.
About 1500 hours, the forward elements of Hadik’s men were back by Eilenburg. Two full grenadier companies, led by Major-General von Essern, were ordered forward into the fray, specifically to man the bridge over the Mulde. Now the problem arose that an entire Prussian Free-Corps (that of Hordt) was at hand and this latter force proved too strong to repulse. Essen’s men tumbled back with some losses, while Stolberg received instructions to deploy Neuhoff’s troops to prevent the Prussians from advancing farther. The river crossings were soon afire, which caused Hadik to wonder how to break off the unprofitable fight and retire to safety. The artillery was in the thick of things, trying to destroy the bridges and to show a bold front to the enemy.
Dohna’s men brought up their own guns and they exchanged a duel with the enemy pieces for about an hour. Just about 1600 hours, a determined Prussian effort was made to lunge forward into the bridgehead. But the Croats set the town on fire, and this momentarily checked their effort right at Eilenburg. However, the bluecoats were not easily discouraged. Advance cavalry, led by Major-General von Malachowsky, galloped past Mensdorf and, found a feasible place to ford the Mulde at Zschepplin. Allied resistance on the opposite shore was spotty at best. Hadik felt the situation required an immediate response. The available cavalry, of the Prince of Liechtenstein, and three full regiments of the Imperialist horse, sped off to do battle with Malachowsky. Simultaneously, Hadik turned his front around to confront the new intruder. Hadik even had dismounted troopers fan out into Elienburg and take post in windows across from the Prussian forces. There they commenced to f
ire away, while Hadik waited long enough for nightfall to fall to strike his tents and retreat. The entire Prussian horse was with Malachowsky, so the Prussian attacks through Eilenburg were with infantry alone.
The subsequent retirement by Hadik left the field to the surging Prussian forces. The latter’s cavalry was more than anxious to follow up Hadik’s withdrawal. The Imperialist cavalry, trying their best to cover a fighting withdrawal, had a very difficult time with the Prussians. The night was very dark, and, in the less than ideal conditions, the Imperialist horse often mistook their own force for the Prussians. Nor was there any help from Daun on this occasion. Daun was not about to be lured out of his winter quarters. Hadik accordingly hitched back upon Grimma. There he was reinforced by new formations. But Grimma remained exposed, so Hadik fell back on Schönbach.
With the enemy in front of him now fully deployed, Zweibrücken had no real choice except to concede the field. Without field support from anyone else, the Imperialist commander feared that only disaster would come from trying to force a major battle, even against Wedell. With the latest effort a non-success, he resolved to retire on Chemnitz. Hadik’s rather abrupt abandonment of the offensive helped Zweibrücken make up his mind. With wild rumors making the rounds, the commander initially had a hard time trying to apprize what had happened at Eilenburg. The situation with the withdrawal was aggravated by the weather. It had turned cooler and snow was threatening to appear soon. Now Zweibrücken, in sum, had performed better as an Imperialist commander, than Hildburghausen. Still, all in all, it was a campaign of limited overall success.
Frederick the Great and the Seven Years' War Page 54