by G. A. Henty
He made a masterly retreat, struck a heavy blow at Daun by capturing and destroying his principal magazine, and then took up a very strong position near Koeniggraetz. Here he could have maintained himself against all Daun’s assaults, for his position was one that Daun had himself held and strongly fortified; but the news from the north was of so terrible a nature that he was forced to hurry thither.
The Cossacks, as the Russian army advanced, were committing most horrible atrocities; burning towns and villages, tossing men and women into the fire, plundering and murdering everywhere; and the very small Prussian force that was watching them was powerless to check the swarming marauders.
Frederick therefore, evading Daun’s attempts to arrest his march, crossed the mountains into Silesia again. At Landshut he gave his army two days’ rest; wrote and sent a paper to his brother Prince Henry, who was commander of the army defending Saxony from invasion, telling him that he was on the point of marching against the Russians and might well be killed; and giving him orders as to the course to be pursued, in such an event.
He left Keith, in command of forty thousand men, to hold Daun in check should the latter advance against Silesia; and he again took Fergus with him, finding the young officer’s talk a pleasant means of taking his mind off the troubles that beset him.
In nine days the army, which was but fifteen thousand strong, marched from Landshut to Frankfort-on-Oder. Here the king learned that though Kuestrin, which the Russians were besieging, still held out, the town had been barbarously destroyed by the enemy.
In fierce anger the army pressed forward. The Russian army itself, officers and men, were indignant in the extreme at the brutalities committed by the Cossacks, but were powerless to restrain them; for indeed these ruffians did not hesitate to attack and kill any officer who ventured to interfere between them and their victims.
The next morning, early, Frederick reached the camp of his general Dohna; who had been watching, although unable to interfere with the Russians’ proceedings. The king had a profound contempt for the Russians, in spite of the warning of Keith, who had served with them, that they were far better soldiers than they appeared to be; and he anticipated a very easy victory over them.
Early on the 22nd of August the army from Frankfort arrived. Dohna’s strength was numerically about the same as the king’s, and with his thirty thousand men Frederick had no doubt that he would make but short work of the eighty thousand Russians, of whom some twenty-seven thousand were the Cossack rabble, who were not worth being considered, in a pitched battle. Deceiving the Russians as to his intentions by opening a heavy cannonade on one of their redoubts, as if intending to ford the river there, he crossed that evening twelve miles lower down and, after some manoeuvring, faced the Russians, who had at once broken up the siege on hearing of his passage.
Fermor sent away his baggage train to a small village called Kleinkalmin, and planted himself on a moor, where his front was covered by quagmires and the Zaborn stream. Hearing, late at night on the evening of the 24th, that Frederick was likely to be upon them the next morning, the Russian general drew out into the open ground north of Zorndorf, which stands on a bare rise surrounded by woods and quagmires, and formed his army into a great square, two miles long by one broad, with his baggage in the middle—a formation which had been found excellent by the Russians in their Turkish wars, but which was by no means well adapted to meet Frederick’s methods of impetuous attack. Being ignorant as to the side upon which Frederick was likely to attack, and having decided to stand on the defensive, he adopted the methods most familiar to him.
Frederick had cut all the bridges across the rivers Warta and Oder, and believed that he should, after defeating the Russians, drive them into the angle formed by the junction of these two streams, and cause them to surrender at discretion. Unfortunately, he had not heard that the great Russian train had been sent to Kleinkalmin. Had he done so he could have seized it, and so have possessed himself of the Russian stores and all their munitions of war, and have forced them to surrender without a blow; for the Cossacks had wasted the country far and wide, and deprived it of all resources. But he and his army were so burning with indignation, and the desire to avenge the Cossack cruelties, that they made no pause, and marched in all haste right round the Russian position, so as to drive them back towards the junction of the two rivers.
Fermor’s Cossacks brought him in news of Frederick’s movements, which were hidden from him by the forests; and seeing that he was to be attacked on the Zorndorf side, instead of from that on which he had expected it to come, he changed his front, and swung round the line containing his best troops to meet it.
On arriving at Zorndorf, Frederick found that the Cossacks had already set the village on fire. This was no disadvantage to him, for the smoke of the burning houses rolled down towards the Russians, and so prevented them from making observation of the Prussian movements. The king rode up to the edge of the Zaborn hollow and, finding it too deep and boggy to be crossed, determined to attack at the southwest with his left and centre, placing his cavalry in rear, and throwing back his right wing.
The first division marched forward to the attack, by the west end of the flaming village. The next division, which should have been its support, marched by the east end of Zorndorf. Its road was a longer one, and there was consequently a wide gap between the two divisions. Heralded by the fire of two strong batteries—which swept the southwestern corner of the Russian quadrilateral, their crossfire ploughing its ranks with terrible effect—the first division, under Manteufel, fell upon the enemy.
The fire of the Prussian batteries had sorely shaken the Russians, and had produced lively agitation among the horses of the light baggage train in the centre of the square; and, heralding their advance with a tremendous fire of musketry, the Prussian infantry forced its way into the mass. Had the second division been close at hand, as it should have been, the victory would already have been won; but although also engaged it was not near, and Fermor poured out a torrent of horse and foot upon Manteufel’s flank and front. Without support, and surrounded, the Prussians could do nothing, and were swept back, losing twenty-four pieces of cannon; while the Russians, with shouts of victory, pressed upon them.
At this critical moment Seidlitz, with five thousand horse, dashed down upon the disordered mass of Russians, casting it into irretrievable confusion. At the same time the infantry rallied and pressed forward again.
In fifteen minutes the whole Russian army was a confused mass. Fermor, with the Russian horse, fled to Kratsdorf and, had not the bridge there been burnt by Frederick, he would have made off, leaving his infantry to their fate. These should now, according to all rules, have surrendered; but they proved unconquerable save by death. Seidlitz’s cavalry sabred them until fatigued by slaughter, the Prussian infantry poured their volleys into them, but they stood immovable and passive, dying where they stood.
At one o’clock in the day the battle ceased for a moment. The Prussians had marched at three in the morning and, seeing that although half the Russian army had been destroyed, the other half had gradually arranged itself into a fresh front of battle, Frederick formed his forces again, and brought up his right wing for the attack on the side of the Russian quadrilateral which still stood. Forward they went, their batteries well in advance; but before the infantry came within musket range, the Russian horse and foot rushed forward to the attack, and with such force that they captured one of the batteries, took a whole battalion prisoners, and broke the centre.
Here were the regiments of Dohna, perfectly clean and well accoutred; but, being less accustomed to war than Frederick’s veterans, they gave way at once before the Russian onslaught and, in spite of Frederick’s efforts to prevent them, fled from the field and could not be rallied until a mile distant from it.
The veterans stood firm, however; until Seidlitz, returning from pursuit, again hurled his horsemen upon the Russian masses, broke them up, and drove their cavalry in headlo
ng flight before him.
CHAPTER 12
Another Step
The Russian infantry being involved in the turmoil and confusion caused by the charge of Seidlitz, and the defeat of their cavalry, the Prussian infantry again pressed forward, pouring in a heavy fire and charging with the bayonet. Three battalions had been drawn from this very country and, maddened by the tales they had heard of Cossack cruelty, were not to be denied. The Russians, however, keeping their ranks, filling up the gaps as they were formed, and returning as best they could the fire of the Prussians, held together with sullen obstinacy. By this time the ammunition on both sides was exhausted, and now the struggle became hand to hand, bayonet against bayonet, butt end of musket to butt end.
Seldom has so terrible a struggle ever been witnessed. Nightfall was approaching. Foot by foot the inert Russian mass was pushed backwards. One of their generals, Demikof, collected some two thousand foot and a thousand horse, and took possession of a knoll; and Frederick ordered them to be dispersed again. Forcade was ordered to attack them with two battalions, and General Rutter to bring up the Dohna men again and take them in flank; but the latter had not recovered from their state of demoralization, and at the first cannon shot turned and ran, continuing their flight even further than before, and taking refuge in the woods. Frederick instantly dismissed Rutter from the service.
Then, as night had completely fallen, the terrible conflict ceased. Fermor by this time, finding that there was no crossing the rivers, had returned. No regiment or battalion of his army remained in order. There was but a confused crowd, which the officers did their best to form into some sort of order, regardless of regiment or battalion. The Cossacks scoured the fields under the cover of night, plundering the dead and murdering the wounded, flames marking their path. Four hundred of them were caught at their work by the Prussian hussars, and every one killed.
Frederick sent for his tents, and the army pitched its camp, facing the Russians; but during the night the latter, having got into a sort of order, moved away to the westward and bivouacked on Drewitz Heath, facing the battle ground.
Fermor had some twenty-eight thousand men still with him, while Frederick had eighteen thousand. The former’s loss had been twenty-one thousand, five hundred and twenty-nine killed, wounded, or missing; of whom eight thousand were killed. That of the Prussians was eleven thousand, three hundred and ninety, of whom three thousand six hundred and eighty were killed. Thus each side lost a third of its number in this terrible struggle.
The next morning the Russians got into better order, and drew up in order of battle. A cannonade was for some time kept up on both sides, but the armies were beyond range of artillery.
Neither party had any real thoughts of fighting. Fermor, beaten on his own ground the day before, could not dream of attacking the Prussians. The latter were worn out by the fatigues of the previous day. Moreover, on each side the musketry ammunition was used up. The hussars, pursuing the Cossacks, had in the night come upon the Russian waggon train at Kleim, and carried off a good deal of portable plunder.
The next morning, under cover of a fog, the Russians retreated, reached their baggage, and then moved slowly away; and, harassed by Dohna, sullenly continued their retreat to the Russian frontier. If Frederick could have pressed them, he would probably have won another victory; but he had news which called him to hasten away west to join Prince Henry, as his presence there was urgently required for the defence of Saxony.
Fergus had been with the king, when the Dohna regiments gave way before the impetuous charge of the Russians; the rest of the staff having been sent away, one after the other, either to bring up Seidlitz or to order a fresh movement among the infantry; and as the king rode down to endeavour to restore order, he followed closely behind him. The confusion was terrible. The Russian horse, mixed up with the infantry, were sabring and trampling them down.
Suddenly three of them dashed at the king. Fergus, setting spurs to his horse, interposed between them and Frederick. One of the Russians was ridden over, horse and man, by the impetus of his rush. The other two attacked him furiously, and for a moment he was very hard pressed. He kept his horse prancing and curvetting, and managed to keep both his assailants on his right; until at last he cut one down and, half a minute later, ran the other through the body.
“Gallantly done, Major Drummond,” the king said quietly as, wheeling his horse, Fergus returned back to take his post behind him. “I shall not forget that you have saved my life.”
Then, without further comment, Frederick continued his work trying to rally the infantry; ordering, entreating, and even laying the cane he always carried across their shoulders.
A minute later there was a thunder of hoofs, and Seidlitz burst down upon the Russian mass, changing in a moment the fate of the battle. Excited by the late encounter, Fergus’s horse took its bit between its teeth, joined Seidlitz’s cavalry as they swept past and, in spite of the efforts of its rider, plunged with him into the midst of the fight. For the next few minutes Fergus had but slight knowledge of what was going on, he being engaged in a series of hand-to-hand fights with both cavalry and infantry. Three times he was wounded, and then the pressure ceased, and he was again galloping across the moors in pursuit of the Russian horse.
It was not until Seidlitz’s force drew rein that he recovered the control of his horse. Its flank was bleeding from a bayonet gash, and a bullet had gone through its neck. The first wound was of comparatively small consequence, but he feared that the other was serious; but though the horse panted from its exertion and excitement, its breath came regularly; and it was evident that the ball had not hit the spine, for had it done so it would have fallen at once.
He turned and rode back with the cavalry, who dismounted a short distance from the scene of action, in readiness to take their part again, should they be required; while he pursued his way to the spot where the king had stationed himself, surrounded by several of his staff. The king glanced at him, and then said:
“You are relieved from duty, Major Drummond. Let one of the surgeons see to you, at once.”
Fergus rode but a short distance and then, turning suddenly faint, he slid from his horse to the ground. One of the staff, happening to look round, at once rode back to him.
“You had best let me bandage up your wounds roughly,” he said. “It will be difficult to find a surgeon, now that they are all up to their eyes in work, somewhere in the rear.”
Fergus had received two severe wounds in the face, and a bayonet thrust through his leg. The officer did his best to stanch the bleeding, and was still occupied in doing so when Karl rode up, jumped from his horse, and ran to his master’s side.
“Where have you been, Karl?” Fergus asked, for the soldier had also received a severe wound in the head.
“I followed you, master, as in duty bound; but I was some distance behind you, and in that melee I could not get near you; and being mixed up with one of the squadrons, I did not see you as you came back, and was in a great state about you until, on riding up to the staff, one of the officers pointed you out to me.”
“I think that you are in good hands now,” the officer said. “I will join the king again.”
Fergus thanked him warmly, but in a weak voice.
“The first thing, master, is for you to get a drink,” Karl said; and he took, from the holster of Fergus’s saddle, a flask that he had placed there that morning. “Take a good drink of this,” he said, “then I will see to your wounds. It is plain enough to see that that officer knew nothing about them.”
Fergus drank half of the contents of the flask, and then handed it to Karl.
“You finish it up,” he said. “You want it as much as I do.”
“Not so much, master; but I want it badly enough, I own.”
Having drank, he proceeded to rebandage his master’s wounds, first laying on them rolls of lint he took from his own saddlebag.
“I never go on a campaign without lint and a bandage
or two,” he said. “Many a life has been lost that might easily enough have been saved, had they been at hand.”
He laid the lint on the wounds, and then bound them firmly and evenly. He had a bandage left, when he had finished this. With the aid of a man who was limping to the rear, he used it for stanching his own wounds.
“Well, master,” he said, “you cannot do better than lie here, for the present. I will look after the horses, and fasten them up to that bush. The battle is going on as fiercely as ever, and looks as if it would go on until dark. If so, there will be no collecting the wounded tonight; but as soon as I see where the king bivouacs, I will get you there somehow.”
“I shall do very well here—at any rate, for the present, Karl. In the meantime, it would be a good thing if you would take the two horses down to the brook, and give them a good drink. You mayn’t get a chance later on. As my horse Turk is wounded in two places, I have no doubt the poor beast is as thirsty as I am.”
“The bayonet wound is of no consequence,” Karl said, after examining the horse’s flanks; “except that it has taken a good bit off its value. I don’t think this bullet wound through the neck is serious, either.”
In an hour Karl returned, leading the horses.
“I feel all the better for a wash, captain. I wish you could have one, too. I have filled my water bottle, but you will want that before morning.”
By means of the valises and cloaks, Fergus was propped up into a half-sitting position; and he remained where he was until, after nightfall, the din of battle ceased. He had eaten a few mouthfuls of bread, and felt stronger; and by the time the tents were pitched, and the bivouac fires lighted, he was able to stand. With Karl’s assistance he mounted in side-saddle fashion and, Karl leading the horses, made for the tents of the king’s staff, five hundred yards away. Captain Diedrich, the officer who shared the tent with Fergus, helped Karl to lift him down and carry him in.