Instantly the torch of war was ablaze. The Turks and Hungarians, uniting, pushed forward from the lower Danube. Burning villages and towns, desolated landscapes, hunger, misery, and all the horrors of war marked their path. Many thousands of youths and maidens fell into their hands, to be carried away as hostages or to be sold into slavery. All was confusion, and no one could suggest a remedy. The whole Austrian army numbered 35,000 men, and the Turks were 200,000 strong. What a contrast!
The operations of the Emperor’s troops were mostly unsuccessful. They were anxious to hinder the enemy’s advance, so that the Viennese might have time to strengthen their intrenchments. Perceiving this, the Grand Vizier pushed rapidly forward to the Leitha; and in order not to be cut off from Vienna, Duke Charles of Lorraine was obliged to change his position. He was attacked with furious impetuosity at Petronell, July 7, 1683, by the advance-guard of the Turkish army. It was a bloody engagement, for it was necessary for the Germans to defend themselves at any cost.
It was there that Eugene met the enemy for the first time and proved himself a soldier. He fought as bravely as the best, keeping at his brother’s side, wherever the danger was greatest. The King of France should have seen the little abbé in this wild cavalry encounter—he would certainly have changed his mind. Despite their ardor the Turks were obliged to retire, and this pleased Eugene mightily. But unfortunately the joy of victory was embittered by a great sorrow. His beloved brother Julius was a victim of the day’s work and was found, terribly disfigured, under the horses’ hoofs. Eugene shed some bitter tears, said a prayer for his brother’s soul, then pressed on after the enemy.
But it was impossible to stem the tide of their superior numbers; already they had surrounded Vienna, and a division of Turkish cavalry had taken possession of one of the suburbs, where they were conducting themselves in truly barbaric style. That could not be tolerated. The Margrave, Louis of Baden, who had succeeded Prince Julius Louis of Soissons as commander of the dragoon regiment, attacked the Turks, sabre in hand, cut down many of them and put the rest to flight. Eugene took part in this fight with enthusiasm; as also a few days later at Presburg, where the Duke of Lorraine defeated the rear-guard of the enemy. Here also the dragoons of the Margrave Louis of Baden did their part, and Eugene distinguished himself above all the rest.
In the meantime the main army of the Turks, under command of the Grand Vizier, Kora Mustapha, had entirely surrounded Vienna. Such peril had never before befallen a German city. All Germany was in a fever of excitement. It was plain that, should Vienna fall, the whole German empire would be open to the marauding and murdering infidels; and God knows what might come next. But it turned out differently. The mayor of Vienna, Rudiger von Starhemberg, was a good soldier as well as administrator. Here he encouraged, there led an attack; and the Viennese citizens and students fought like heroes under his leadership. Although the Turks stormed the walls and had even made a breach here and there, they were obliged to retreat before the defenders, who were fighting for their dearest and most sacred possessions. The good Viennese, however, would have been obliged at last to succumb, had not help come from the Electors of Bavaria and Saxony, the Emperor’s troops under Duke Charles of Lorraine, and with them, of course, the chief of the dragoon regiment, Margrave Louis of Baden, with “the little Capuchin,” Prince Eugene, all led by King John Sobieski of Poland. The Capuchin was already become a mighty hero; Eugene had smelled powder, and even the dragoons, who had at first regarded him doubtfully, had quite changed their minds about him.
The decisive battle took place September 12, 1683, under the walls of Vienna. The assistance was timely, for the city could scarce have held out twenty-four hours longer. The Turks had been bombarding it since the fifteenth of July. It was a wonder that it had resisted so long. The last day was destined to be the hardest one for the Viennese. The Grand Vizier had divided his army. Legions attacked the deliverers on the Kalenberg, and other legions were commanded to take the city. For a long time the outcome was uncertain. The Turks fought with incomparable ferocity and recklessness; and it became necessary for the Germans to exert their strength to the utmost against their attacks. The fury and confusion were terrible, the slaughter unparalleled. Wild cries to Allah mingled with the groans and prayers of the Christians. Blood flowed in streams, and the trenches were filled with the corpses of friend and foe alike. It was well that the decisive moment was at hand, for the defenders had expended their last effort. At length the trumpeters sounded the glad tidings of victory from the Cathedral tower of St. Stephen, from whence the flight of the Turks could be seen. It was heroic work, in which every man did his share, and especially Prince Eugene. With the Duke of Lorraine, he pushed down the steep declivity of Leopoldsberg toward Nussdorf, then along the banks of the Danube, in pursuit of the enemy.
Once more the Turks made a sharp and ferocious attack on the walls and intrenchments of Vienna. Although repulsed on the outside, they were determined to take the city. The danger increased, but little more patience and endurance was needed, for help was at hand. Margrave Louis of Baden detected the greatest danger-point at the Schottenthor (Scotch Gate). With three battalions of infantry and his dragoon regiment he cut his way to this point. He wished to outflank the enemy and give the Viennese a breathing spell. Prince Eugene was at every point where the danger was greatest. With his dragoons he was the first to enter the Scotch Gate. What a slashing and butchering there was! It was necessary to effect a meeting with Starhemberg. The long blades of the dragoons did terrific execution among the enemy. At the head stormed the “little Capuchin,” giving orders here and striking a blow there, until he heard trumpet calls from the other side. It was Starhemberg, and the Turks were between two fires; there was no longer any escape, they must go down in this sea of fire and flame.
Vienna was saved. The Turks fled, and the dragoons kept close at their heels. Order had now to be restored in all directions.
A little defeat which the Polish cavalry had suffered on the seventh of October at Parkan was revenged two days later by the reunited army. Margrave Louis of Baden took the city by storm; then Gran surrendered, and this closed the famous campaign of the year 1683.
Before the year had closed Prince Eugene had received the thanks of the Emperor for his gallantry. On the twelfth of December, 1683, he was appointed Commander and Colonel of the Kuefstein regiment of dragoons; and this fine regiment he retained without a break during his long career. For a long time it had the honor of being a model for the whole imperial cavalry. And is it a wonder? Prince Eugene understood his profession and was a past master in the art of war.