Frederick the Great and the Rise of Prussia

by William Fiddian Reddaway

The French and Imperialists gave up the line of the Saale, joined forces, and took up a strong position in the undulating country to the west. On November 3rd, Frederick crossed the river and expected that next day the intolerable tension would be at an end. When, however, he came to reconnoitre the enemy’s position in force he found that to attack it against odds of two to one would be to invite a second Kolin. To the exultation of the allies, he drew back under a heavy cannonade and encamped with his left wing resting on Rossbach. On November 5th, Eichel, who was lodged at a safe distance, sent word of this fiasco to the Government, which had taken refuge in Magdeburg. “The whole war,” wrote this most submissive of Frederick’s slaves, “is of no avail. May Your Excellency soon make a good peace.” He added a postscript: “At the moment of closing this, about 2 o’clock in the afternoon, we hear a very loud cannon-fire and, as it seems, musketry also.” Frederick was being delivered from his troubles by a game of hide-and-seek.

The King’s object in encamping near Rossbach was to turn the allies’ position, or, failing this, to hang upon their rear when hunger should compel them to retreat. By the enemy, however, the movement was attributed to fear. Hot-headed Frenchmen, full of the martial traditions of their race, urged Soubise to crush a foe whose stroke they had yet to learn lest his little army should escape them. Vengeful Saxon voices joined with theirs, while shivering Imperialists, who for five days had subsisted on what food they could pick up among the peasants, clamoured for the break-up of the camp. Soubise at last gave way and planned a second Soor, to be done this time in broad daylight. Screened by the low hills, the allies were to march round Frederick’s left and to take him in flank and rear. Believing themselves to be four times as strong as the King, they feared only lest he should flee to Merseburg in time.

After a march of some three hours the allies reached a point due south of Rossbach. With a salutary access of caution, the French proposed to encamp there, right on Frederick’s flank. But this proposal was angrily resisted by the Imperialists and Saxons, and at the critical moment the news came that the Prussians were retreating. It was evident that they could delay no longer without permitting Frederick to escape. If, however, they hastened round the eastern end of the long, low ridge which hid his army from view, they might still take it in flank as it fled along the road to Merseburg. With this plan in mind, Soubise and his colleagues cast prudence to the winds. From the first they had omitted to name a place of retreat or a formation to be adopted in case they should be attacked. Now their army hurried along pell-mell, with three generals at the head of the cavalry, the infantry straggling after as best they might, the French reserves pressing between the marching columns and the artillery, and the whole flank exposed on the left, where the low ridge still screened the enemy from their sight.

PLAN OF ROSSBACH, NOVEMBER 5, 1757.

Behind that ridge Frederick was ranking his men for battle. He, too, had believed his opponents to be in retreat and received with coarse taunts and disbelief the report of a lieutenant that they were trying to outflank him. The sight of their infantry, however, convinced him that they meant even more than a reconnoissance. At a glance he saw his opportunity. “In less than two minutes,” writes an onlooker, “all the tents lay on the ground, as though someone had pulled a string behind the scenes, and the army was in full march.” At first, by great luck, the heads of the Prussian columns pointed north-east towards Merseburg, and thus the allies were deluded into the belief that they were in retreat. Then, hidden by the ridge, they moved east and finally south-east, converging towards the enemy. In the waning November afternoon they formed line and waited unseen, cannon massed on the right, Prince Henry with the infantry in the centre, on the extreme left Seydlitz, the prince of dragoons, smoking his short clay pipe till the King should order the charge.

Little more than an hour after the Prussians struck their tents they were dashing at the open flank of the allies, and ere another hour had passed Frederick’s western frontier was saved. The so-called battle of Rossbach would be better named the drove of Reichartswerben. But for the slaughter inevitable when the best troops in the world swooped down upon a mob, the encounter would have been a pure farce. First Seydlitz by repeated charges drove the cavalry of the allies off the field. Then, to the accompaniment of a heavy cannonade, Prince Henry led the infantry down the slope and poured swift volleys into the medley out of which Soubise was vainly struggling to form a line of battle. Some of the French, Swiss, and West-German troops showed fight, the rest fled. Finally Seydlitz fell upon their rear and the butchery was checked only by darkness. At the cost of about five hundred men Frederick destroyed an army of nearly fifty thousand and made himself the hero of the Teutonic race. He jeered at the vanquished enemy in blasphemous French verses and set to work to reap the fruits of victory.

Everywhere save in Silesia the aspect of affairs was changing in his favour. A report that Elizabeth was dying caused the Russians to withdraw from Ost-Preussen just when their victory had placed it at their mercy. Lehwaldt was therefore set free to undertake the defence of Pomerania against the Swedes. England, inspired by Pitt, was proving herself a worthy ally against France. A new army was formed for the defence of Hanover. The command was offered to Prince Ferdinand, and British soldiers were to serve under him. For the present year at least, the North and West might be accounted safe. But from the Eastern theatre of war the news was bad. Prince Charles had followed Bevern into Silesia and now stood between him and Schweidnitz. Not a moment was to be lost if the King would save this important fortress.

Once more, however, Prussian speed was equal to all demands. Two days after Rossbach Frederick was already on his way. “I will leave you as strong a corps as I can on this side,” he writes to Keith, “and march unceasingly for Silesia. A toilsome year for me!” In good heart after Rossbach, he strongly approved of Bevern’s resolve to attack the Austrians. “For God’s sake have no fear of a weak enemy,” he wrote, “but trust to your own insight and experience.” But the days of Schwerin and the Old Dessauer were over. Except Henry and Ferdinand, Frederick had now no general from whom he could expect victories like his own. While he strode swiftly through Saxony Silesia was lost. On November 18, 1757, at Königsbrück, he learned that Schweidnitz had fallen without a blow. The confused reproaches and threats which he poured out upon Bevern and his generals were futile, for on the 22nd Prince Charles drove the Prussians from Breslau across the Oder, and within the week the capital was Austrian once more.

Before the news of Breslau reached him Frederick had declared to Bevern that he was firmly resolved to attack the enemy, but that it must be with their united forces, “else I am too weak and not much over 12,000 strong.” Next day, November 24th, at Naumburg on the Queiss the report reached him that Bevern had gained a victory. He therefore planned to catch Prince Charles in a net at Neumarkt by marching from Liegnitz to meet Bevern sallying forth from Breslau. He even hinted that Keith might surprise Prague, and wrote to Ferdinand: “With good fortune I flatter myself that I shall finish this business in a fortnight.” “The Almighty shows us one great mercy after another,” wrote Eichel. Next day they learned part of the truth, though rumour multiplied fourfold the Austrian loss of 6000. “Defend Breslau to the last man—on peril of your head,” was the sum of Frederick’s orders to his brother-in-law, accompanied by much military counsel and a promise of speedy aid. But soon the news came that Bevern was a prisoner, that his army had fled to Glogau, worst of all, that Breslau had capitulated without firing a shot. Thousands of the garrison voluntered to serve Maria Theresa. It is said that one battalion quitted the capital in a strength of nine officers and four men. After sixteen years Silesia seemed to be welcoming home its Queen.