by H M Hozier
On the evening of the 27th, preliminaries of peace were also agreed upon with Bavaria. The Bavarian ambassador, Herr von der Pfordten, had been for some days at Nikolsburg unable to obtain an audience of Count Bismark, and only in the afternoon of the 27th secured a few moments’ conversation with the Prussian prime minister. The terms of peace were quickly stated: the cession of all Bavarian territory north of the Maine to Prussia, and the payment of a war contribution. The Bavarian demurred, pleaded he had no instructions to give up territory, and wished to enter into diplomatic negotiations in a more orthodox manner, for to the ambassador, trained in the rules of his art it seemed almost sacrilege to turn over provinces in a meeting of only some moments’ duration, and to scratch out frontier lines with one or two dashing strokes of a hurried pen; but the plenipotentiaries of Prussia, Count Bismark and General von Moltke, would listen to no propositions and hear no objections, they required an immediate assent; the representative of the Court of Munich did not feel justified in agreeing to such conditions, the meeting abruptly terminated, and orders were telegraphed to General Manteuffel to press the war in Bavaria.
News came in from that country of Prussian successes; the Armies of the Elbe, of Prince Frederick Charles, and of the crown prince were ready to hurry off detachments to the theatre of war south of the Maine, the cause of the decaying Bund was evidently hopeless, every day of indecision must heighten the war contribution; so in the evening the Bavarian ambassador was fain to declare his agreement to the terms dictated. Orders were then telegraphed to General Manteuffel to arrest the progress of his army, and preliminaries for a peace were signed.
On the 27th, after the preliminary treaty with Austria had been signed, the king, much to the satisfaction of the officers at Nikolsburg, who in this case certainly represented the public opinion of the whole army, conferred on General von Moltke the Order of the Black Eagle, the highest of the decorations of Prussia, not more as a sign of approval of the skill with which the general had carried through the negotiations, than of the strategy he had displayed in the conduct of the campaign.
The army was delighted with the terms of the peace; all the hardship, all the danger of the campaign were quite forgotten—all desire of war and regret that peace had been made so soon had utterly vanished, giving way to feelings of congratulation and happiness, because few men really thought that the dreams of a United Germany and of a common Fatherland for the whole Teutonic race were now visionary speculations, but were results which must follow sooner or later from this campaign. Count Bismark was immensely popular in the army; he was regarded as the author and origin of this success, so rapid, so complete, that no Prussian dared to hope for half such a triumph when the troops dashed into Saxony nearly seven weeks before.
A review was ordered in the Marchfeld for the 31st, but only of the main body of the First Army and of the cavalry corps. The Second Army and the Army of the Elbe were already preparing to march back over the Thaya, and as soon as the roads were clear the army of Prince Frederick Charles was to follow. The greater part of the crown prince’s army was to hold Austrian Silesia and Moravia, while the First Army and the Army of the Elbe occupied Bohemia. There was one dark shadow cast over the troops, although it was almost disregarded amid the universal joy caused by the glorious terms of peace which had been obtained. The cholera had broken out in the camp, several men and officers were already down with it, and great fears were entertained that the hot weather might cause it to increase.
The cases at first were not very numerous, but they were not confined to one particular regiment, or one particular locality, which makes it appear as though the disease were lurking all through the lines, ready to burst forth everywhere if a day hotter than usual or a slight failure of good water should occur. The medical men, however, spoke confidently of their power to keep the pestilence under, and it was hoped that when the troops turned their faces homewards they might shake it off by change of quarters, and suffer no more when well away from the flat land which borders on the Danube. But it pursued them as they moved, and during the whole of the remaining time which the Prussian Army remained on Austrian territory it suffered much from disease.
By the 29th the Prussian Army began to withdraw from the duchy of Austria; the crown prince’s army was already moving back towards Austrian Silesia, passing through Moravia. The second corps d’armée of the First Army had commenced its movement towards Prague, and the rest of the First Army was also to begin its retrograde march on the 1st August, after it had been reviewed by the king in the Marchfeld on the 31st July. General Mülbe, who had come with his reserve corps from Prague to Brünn before the preliminaries of peace were agreed upon, was retracing his steps. It could not be expected that the return march would be nearly so rapid as that of the advance. There was no enemy now in the front to be turned or hurriedly pushed back, so the troops moved by easy stages until they reached the positions they had to occupy till the treaty of peace was finally signed.
The troops were not at all sorry to be called upon to march again; they had had more than enough rest after the quick marches of the advance, and began now to find time hang rather heavy on their hands. Even smoking gets tiresome when it has been indulged in for almost a week continuously without the interruption of parades or inspections. Helmet tops had been polished and repolished, needle-guns had had their complicated mechanism taken to pieces, cleaned, and put together again, swords and bayonets had been burnished over and over again, accoutrements and appointments had been inspected closely and more closely, almost in the hope of finding some rent or hole which might have to be repaired, all for the sake of something to do. But all the occupation which their accoutrements could afford to the men had been exhausted, and now they were reduced to strolling about listlessly, or hanging over the fences which surround the gardens of the cottages where they were billeted, sucking gravely at their long wooden pipes.
Now and then a soldier might be seen starting off to cut Indian corn for the cow of the villager on whom he was billeted, but he was seldom allowed to enjoy alone his temporary occupation; a group of comrades, eager for employment, joined him, and in consequence the basket, the filling of which might have given one man work for a couple of hours, was crammed full in a few minutes by the thick group of voluntary labourers. The village children alone were perfectly satisfied with the existing state of affairs; they, unlike their elders, had no misgivings about heavy taxes which they would be required to pay for the expenses of the Austrian Army or the war contribution to Prussia; unlike the soldiers, they were not far away from friends and homes, to whom, now that the legitimate work of the campaign was over, these were eager to return; careless of tomorrow, they were only delighted to have so many playfellows, for the great strong men, who had been but the other day pursuing the flying Austrian battalions from Königgrätz, were now content to let the children beat them, pull their hair, or sometimes run about with their newly cleaned swords trailing in the dust, and were well pleased afterwards to instruct the urchins in the arts of converting a lump of deal into a boat, or a stick of sycamore wood into a whistle.
A little after nine o’clock on the morning of the 31st July, 1866, the 5th, 6th, 7th, and 8th infantry divisions and the cavalry corps of the First Prussian Army were drawn up on the Marchfeld, within fifteen miles of Vienna, to be reviewed by the King of Prussia. The troops were formed in four lines, facing towards the south, where, through the haze which always on a warm day overhangs a large city, could be indistinctly seen the tall Stephanenthurm that marked the situation of the Austrian capital; their left rested close to the village of Gänserndorf, whence the lines stretched for a distance of a mile and a half over a slightly undulated plain, from which the crops had already been removed, in the direction of Auersthal, but did not extend so far as that village. The two front lines were formed of heavy battalions of infantry, each clumped together in close columns of companies, standing out a dark blue square against the yellow stubble; a hundred yards
behind the battalion stood a long line of the cavalry corps under the command of Prince Albrecht, forming, with the cavalry regiments attached to the infantry, a force of close upon 10,000 sabres and lances.
On the right stood the heavy brigade of General Pfuel, consisting of the two cuirassier regiments of the emperor of Russia and of the Duke of Coburg, tall strong men, mounted on massive horses, with their yellow helmets and armour glittering in the hot sunshine like burnished gold; next on the left stood Rheinhaben’s brigade formed from cavalry of the Guard, one regiment of dragoons in light blue uniforms with red facings, and shining black japanned helmets; and two of Uhlans, the black and white flags of whose lances formed a strong contrast to the bright red facings and lancer caps over which they waved. Next to the Guard brigade was drawn up the brigade of Duke William of Mecklenburg, which had formed the advanced guard of the First Army since it crossed the Elbe at Przelautsch, and which did such tremendous havoc among the Austrian cuirassiers at the end of the Battle of Königgrätz.
The regiments in this brigade are the red hussars of Ziethen, the celebrated yellow Uhlans commanded by Prince Hohenlohe, and the 2nd dragoons of the Guard, one of whose squadrons rode down the Austrian lancers at Tischnowitz. In the next brigade stood the thinned squadrons of the 3rd dragoons, who lost more than half their numbers at the great battle, side by side with the light blue and silver clad Thuringian hussars, who also suffered much in the same charge as the 3rd Dragoons. The left of the cavalry brigade was formed by Goltz’s heavy brigade, the Queen’s Own Cuirassiers, and the 9th Uhlans, the regiment in whose hands the lance asserted its supremacy over the sword in the cavalry combat at Saar. In the fourth line, some two hundred yards in the rear of the cavalry, were drawn up the ambulance waggons, ammunition waggons, field telegraph division, a long line of light blue carriages with companies of side bearers, and engineers here and there between them, while on the left lay the batteries of the reserve artillery. Between the batteries of infantry and the long line of horsemen stood the field batteries attached to the infantry divisions, each division in a closed column of four batteries, with a cavalry regiment beside it.
About half-past nine Prince Frederick Charles galloped on to the ground and took the command of the whole force. The troops were not quite formed up when he arrived, and in a short time they had all taken up their positions. Officers were sent to look out for the approach of the king, and the cavalry dismounted and stood beside their horses, the infantry piled their arms and rested beside them to await his arrival. In about half an hour an officer who had been acting as scout towards the right was seen coming at full gallop towards the prince, but the purport of his message was understood—he had no need to deliver it. Before he had reached the commander-in-chief the sharp words of command calling the battalions and squadrons to “attention” were passing quickly along the line, and in two or three minutes the troopers were in their saddles, the companies were reformed, the gunners sprang to their posts beside their guns, and the whole army stood silent and motionless; the bayonets bristled stiff among the serried ranks of the infantry, the lance-staves and swords formed a perfect unbending line along the whole cavalry division, the troopers sat as still as statues, for the horses had been perfectly quieted by the campaign, and the only moving things among the widespread hosts were the standards of the infantry, and the pennons of the Uhlans.
A little knot of horsemen appeared over the brow of a gentle undulation, and came quickly towards the centre of the line; a tall man with grey hair and moustache, in the uniform of a general officer, rode in front When he came nearly opposite the centre of the army, the sword-point of Prince Frederick Charles was lowered quickly towards the ground. At this signal every officer’s sword went down, with a rapid clatter every musket came to the “present,” the lance-staves and glittering sword-blades of the cavalry stood straight up at the “carry,” while every band struck up the Prussian national hymn to salute the king. He bowed down to his horse’s neck to return not only the salute, but the loud cheer which went up from the ordered crowd, and which drowned the music almost as soon as it began to sound. For a few minutes this lasted, and then it died away, giving place to the last few notes of the bands. All was again silent.
The king moved to the right of the foremost line, and rode along it, stopping here and there to speak to soldiers who had specially distinguished themselves, or to shake hands with the commanding officers. Every battalion cheered him as he walked along its front, pausing to address to each a few words of praise for some particular action during the campaign. Along the second line, the cavalry, and the carriages in the rear he also rode, before he took up his position for the army to march past him.
The first troops that went by were those of the fifth division, commanded by General Tümpling, who fought and won, from a superior Austrian force strongly posted, the action of Brada, near Gitschin. The whole of the Prussian infantry had well proved during the war its power of marching long distances on bad roads and in unfavourable weather, and that day the battalions who were reviewed on the Marchfeld amply demonstrated that this power can co-exist with the most beautiful exactness of parade movements. With a long swinging stride the men passed by, keeping perfect line, and stepping together in such exact time that they could not have done better if, instead of campaigning and bivouacking, they had spent the last two months at marching drill. In the centre of each battalion was carried the standard, often riddled with bullet-holes, sometimes so torn away that only a few patches of tattered silk were left hanging on the bare pole.
In the fifth division were the 8th, 12th, 18th, and 48th regiments, all below their proper strength, for the losses at Gitschin had not yet been replaced, as the reinforcements which were coming up were stopped as soon as peace was agreed upon. After the infantry came the 3rd regiment of Uhlans, which was attached to this division. The perfect marching of the foot soldiers seemed to be contagious, for the squadrons moved in such even lines that as they passed the horseman on the flank utterly hid all the rest from view. Then came the batteries, two abreast, dark and business-like, with the guns uncovered, and the rammers ready, as if pressing forward into action.
The sixth division, under General Manstein, followed the fifth, in the same order; it consisted of the 24th, 64th, 60th, and 35th regiments, all marching with the same steady step, and in equally perfect lines as those who had gone before them. Well they looked and well they went; stout, broad-shouldered men, well grown in years, with thick beards and moustaches, who swung along quickly, without a thought about the heavy yellow knapsack which hung upon their backs. After them followed a dark-green battalion of Jägers, linked shoulder to shoulder in four wall-like lines, marching as if they were always in this close formation, though really they have been used in nothing but skirmishing order during the war. The cavalry of this division, the well-known black dragoons of Brandenburg, with their light-blue tunics and dark velvet collars, from which they get their name, formed a bright contrast in colour to the dark-green riflemen, but moved with unwavering squadrons, which showed perfectly trained horses and skilled horsemen.
Franzecky’s division came next, the heroes of Benatek and of the attack against the Austrian right on the Bistriz, where they left so many of their comrades. Behind this general marched the 26th, 66th, 67th, and 97th regiments, the last showing by its diminished front the severity of the fire to which it was so long exposed in the hardly-contested wood above Benatek, and the sharp fighting of a later date near Blumenau. With this division passed the dark-green and gold Magdeburg hussars, one squadron of which made the successful charge against the Austrian Uhlans in front of Kaltenbrun.
The last infantry regiment which marched past was the 8th, formerly commanded by General Horne, but, since that general had gone to take the command of the whole of the infantry of the first reserve corps, under General Schoeler. It was a brigade of this division which fought by night the first infantry combat of the campaign in the narrow street of Podoll, where
it suffered severely. This division also stormed the village of Sadowa on the morning of the 3rd of July, and spent the greater part of the day in the wood above, exposed to both artillery and musketry fire. The companies looked weak, for their ranks had been thinned by much fighting; but the men who had come through it went past their king with a proud bearing, more like fresh troops going upon service than like men who had just finished a campaign.
All looked splendid, all called forth admiration, and a loud murmur of delight went up from the groups of officers behind the king as the tall Jägers of Magdeburg passed in unbending line before them. These men, recruited from the Hartz mountains, and bred up to a forest life, are the very beau idéal of light infantry soldiers; tall, muscular, and wiry, quick of sight, and rare marksmen. They are so cool under fire and so certain of their aim, that it is asserted that, like the English archer of old, the Magdeburg Jäger carries a foeman’s life in every bullet in his cartouche.
When the infantry had passed away, the cavalry in a long column of squadrons filed before the king, and in the column was seen every class of cavalry soldier which exists in the Prussian service: heavy, broad-shouldered cuirassiers, clothed in white uniforms, with high black boots, mounted on tall, strong horses, which tramped along under the weight of their armour-clad riders, raising clouds of dust, which half obscured the dazzling reflection of the sun from the helmets and cuirasses; tall and lithe Uhlans, carrying with an easy balance their long lances, of which the bannered points rose in an even line above their heads; light dragoons—for in this service all the dragoons are light cavalry, armed with sword and carbine; and lighter still, bright-coloured, rakish-looking hussars, active little men, on strong, short-legged horses, decked out with gaudy trappings, which gave them an almost Oriental appearance. In rear of the cavalry the reserve artillery rolled slowly past, followed by the hospital trains, now empty, and with the stretchers, which used to be carried by the krankenträgers, now folded up and strapped upon the carriages; but ugly red stains upon the curtains of the ambulance waggons showed that all had been lately used. Last of all came the very useful field telegraph detachment, nine carriages, carrying means for laying down instantly and for using thirty miles of wire. When all had passed, the king called the commanding officers round him, and said:—