Home > Authors Index > George Alfred Henty > With Frederick the Great: A Story of the Seven Years' War > This page
With Frederick the Great: A Story of the Seven Years' War, a fiction by George Alfred Henty |
||
Chapter 17. Unexpected News |
||
< Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
________________________________________________
_ The fury of the British cavalry, at the shameful inactivity in which they had been maintained, was unbounded; and their commander, if he moved from his tent, was saluted with hisses and jeers by the troopers. It was not for long, however; for as soon as the news was known at home, he was ordered to return. On the afternoon of the same day, an officer rode over to headquarters and asked for Major Drummond. "I am here, sir," he said courteously, "on behalf of Lord Sackville. He will be leaving for England tomorrow, and I am the bearer of a hostile message from him. I shall be obliged if you will put me in communication with some officer who will act on your behalf." "Certainly," Fergus replied. "I was expecting such a message." He had already heard of the order that Sackville had received; and had requested Major Kurstad, a fellow aide-de-camp, to act for him should he send him a hostile message. Going in he spoke to Kurstad, who at once went out and introduced himself to the British officer. "This is a painful business," the latter said, "and I can assure you that I do not undertake it willingly. However, I overheard the altercation between Lord Sackville and Major Drummond, and the same night he asked me to act for him, when the time for it came. I consented, and cannot draw back from the undertaking; but I need hardly say that, after what happened at Minden, no English officer, unless previously pledged, would have consented to act for him. I suppose, sir, there is no use in asking whether the matter cannot be arranged." "Not in the slightest. Major Drummond told me that he had expressed his willingness to meet the general, and he is certainly not one to withdraw from his word. My friend chooses swords. In fact the use of pistols, on such occasions, is quite unknown in the Continental army." "As Lord Sackville leaves tomorrow morning, we should be glad if you would name an early hour." "As early as you like. It is light at half-past four." "Then shall we say five o'clock?" "Certainly." "And the place?" "There is a small clump of trees on the heath, two miles west of our camp." "We will be there at that time, sir. Would you object to each side being accompanied by a second friend? I ask it because, did anything happen to my principal, I should certainly wish that another witness was present at the duel." "We have no objection," Major Kurstad said. "We shall also bring a surgeon with us, and of course you can do the same, if you are disposed." The two officers saluted, and the major returned to Fergus. "Do you mean to kill him?" he asked, after he had told him of the arrangements that had been made. "Certainly not. The man is an overbearing fool, and I merely wish to give him a lesson. Personally, I should be glad if the whole of the officers of the British force could be present, in order that he might be as much humiliated as possible; but even if I hated the man--and I have no shadow of feeling of that kind--I would not kill him. He is going home to England to be tried by court martial, and its sentence is likely to be a far heavier blow, to a bully of that kind, than death would be. He has a taste of it already, for I hear that he is hooted whenever he leaves his tent." At the appointed time the two parties arrived, almost at the same moment, at a spot arranged. Fergus was accompanied by Major Kurstad and another officer of the duke's staff, and by the duke's own surgeon. Formal salutations were exchanged between the seconds. The duelling swords were examined, and found to be of the same length. There was no difficulty in choosing the ground, as there was an open space in the centre of the little wood, and the sun had not risen high enough to overtop the trees. As, therefore, the glade was in shade, there was no advantage, in point of light, to either combatant. Lord Sackville had the reputation of being a good fencer, but in point of physique there was no comparison between the combatants. Sackville was a tall and powerfully-built man, but dissipation and good living had rendered his muscles flabby and sapped his strength, although he was still in what should have been his prime. Fergus, on the other hand, had not a superfluous ounce of flesh. Constant exercise had hardened every muscle. He was a picture of health and activity. The general viewed him with an expression of vindictive animosity; while his face, on the other hand, wore an expression of perfect indifference. The uniform coats were removed, and the dropping of a handkerchief gave the signal for them to commence. Lord Sackville at once lunged furiously. The thrust was parried, and the next moment his sword was sent flying through the air. His second did not move to recover it. "Why do you not bring it here?" Sackville exclaimed, in a tone of the deepest passion. "Because, my lord," his second said coldly, "as you have been disarmed, the duel necessarily terminates; unless your antagonist is willing that the sword shall be restored to you." "I shall be obliged if you will give it him, Major Buck," Fergus said quietly. "A little accident of this sort may occur occasionally, even to a noted swordsman, when fighting with a boy." The general was purple with passion, when he received the sword from his second. "Mind this time," he said between his teeth as, after a preliminary feint or two, he again lunged. Again the sword was wrenched from his hand, with a force that elicited an exclamation of pain from him. "Pray, give the general his sword again, Major Buck," Fergus said. "You hold your rapier too tightly, General Sackville. You need a little more freedom of play, and less impetuosity. I don't want to hurt you seriously, but your blood is altogether too hot, and next time I will bleed you on the sword arm." Steadying himself with a great effort, Sackville played cautiously for a time; but after parrying several of his thrusts, without the slightest difficulty, Fergus ran him through the right arm, halfway between the elbow and the shoulder, and the sword dropped from his hand. Lord George Sackville had borne himself well in several duels, and was accounted a gentleman, though arrogant and overbearing. He stood without speaking, while the surgeon bandaged up his arm. Then he said quietly: "I ask your pardon, Major Drummond. This matter was altogether my fault. I said that I would give you a lesson, and you have given me one, which assuredly I shall never forget. I trust that you will accept my apology for the words I uttered." "Certainly, general, the more so that I own I gave provocation by failing to salute you--my only excuse for which is that officers of the highest rank, in Prussia, always return the salute of a junior officer, of whatever rank; and that I did not reflect that you, having many important matters in your mind, might have neglected to return mine from pure absent mindedness, and not with any intentional discourtesy. I can only say that I have not spoken of this matter to any but my three friends here, and I am sure that the matter will not be mentioned by them, when it is my earnest request that it shall go no further." The parties then mutually saluted, and rode off to their respective camps. The story of the duel did not leak out from Fergus's friends; but Sackville had openly spoken of the matter, the evening before, to several officers; and had added to their disgust at his conduct by declaring that he wished it had been the Duke of Brunswick, instead of this upstart aide-de-camp of his, with whom he had to reckon the next morning. He, on his part, exacted no pledge from the officers who had accompanied him, but rode back to camp without speaking a word, and an hour later left in a carriage for Bremen. The news of the encounter, then, circulated rapidly, and excited intense amusement, and the most lively satisfaction, on the part of the British officers. On Sackville's arrival in England he was tried by court martial, sentenced to be cashiered, and declared incapable of again serving his majesty in any military capacity. This the king proclaimed officially to be a sentence worse than death and, taking a pen, he himself struck out his name from the list of privy councillors. No satisfactory explanation has ever been given of Sackville's conduct at Minden. Many say it is probable that he was disgusted and sulky at having to rise so early, but this would hardly be a sufficient explanation. The more probable conjecture is that, as he was on notoriously bad terms with the duke, he was willing that the latter should suffer a severe repulse at Minden, in the hope that he would be deprived of his command, and he himself appointed commander-in-chief of the allied army. A few days after the battle, the exultation caused by the victory at Minden was dashed by the news that a Prussian army, twenty-six thousand strong, commanded by Wedel, had been beaten by the Russians at Zuellichau; and ten days later by the still more crushing news that Frederick himself, with fifty thousand men, had been completely defeated by a Russian and Austrian army, ninety thousand in number, at Kunersdorf, on the 11th of August. At first the Prussians had beaten back the Russians with great loss. The latter had rallied, and, joined by Loudon with the Austrian divisions, had recovered the ground and beaten off the Prussians with immense loss, the defeat being chiefly due to the fact that the Prussian army had marched to the attack through woods intersected with many streams; and that, instead of arriving on the field of battle as a whole, they only came up at long intervals, so that the first success could not be followed up, and the regiments who made it were annihilated before help came. The news came from Berlin. A letter had been received there from the king, written on the night after the battle. He said that he had but three thousand men collected round him, that the circumstances were desperate, that he appointed his brother Prince Henry general-in-chief, and that the army was to swear fidelity to his nephew. The letter was understood to mean that Frederick intended to put an end to his life. He knew that the enmity of his foes was largely directed against him personally, and that far easier terms might be obtained for the country were he out of the way; and he was therefore determined not to survive irreparable defeat. Indeed, he always carried a small tube of deadly poison on his person. Universal consternation was felt at the news. However, three days later came the more cheering intelligence that twenty-three thousand men had now gathered round him, and that he had again taken the command. The loss in the battle, however, had been terrible--six thousand had been killed, thirteen thousand wounded. Two thousand of the latter, too seriously wounded to escape, were made prisoners. The loss of the enemy had been little inferior, for eighteen thousand Russians and Austrians were killed or wounded. Another letter sent off by the king that night had disastrous consequences, for he wrote to the governor of Dresden that, should the Austrians attempt anything on the town beyond his means of maintaining himself, he was to capitulate on the best terms he could obtain. Happily for Frederick, Soltikoff was as slow in his movements as Daun, and for two months made no attempt to take advantage of the victory of Kunersdorf, and thus afforded time to Frederick to repair his misfortunes. But during the two months Dresden had been lost. Its governor had received Frederick's letter, and was unaware how things had mended after it was written, and that a force was pressing forward to aid him against an Austrian besieging army. Consequently, after little more than a nominal resistance, he surrendered when, unknown to him, relief was close at hand. The French being defeated, and in full flight for the Rhine, it seemed to Fergus that it was his duty to return to the king; as there was no probability whatever of any hard fighting on the western frontier, while the position of affairs in the east was most serious. He was still on the king's staff, and had but been lent to the Duke of Brunswick. He laid the matter before the latter, who at once agreed with him that he should rejoin the king. "Frederick sorely needs active and intelligent officers, at present," he said. "It is not by force that he can hope to prevent the Russians and Austrians from marching to Berlin, but by quickness and resource. His opponents are both slow and deliberate in their movements, and the king's quickness puzzles and confuses them. It is always difficult for two armies to act in perfect concert, well-nigh impossible when they are of different nationalities. Daun will wait for Soltikoff and Soltikoff for Daun. The king will harass both of them. Daun has to keep one eye upon his magazines in Bohemia, for Prince Henry in Silesia still constantly menaces them, and not only the Austrian but the Russian army is fed from Prague. "Were it not that I am specially bound to defend Hanover from the Confederate army, I would march with the greater portion of my force to join the king; but my orders are imperative. 'Tis for Hanover that George of England is fighting, and the British subsidy and the British troops will be lost to the king, were Hanover to be taken by the enemy. If Prince Henry could but join him, it would bring his army again to a strength with which he could fight either the Russians or Austrians; but their armies lie between Henry and the king, and unless Daun makes some grievous mistake--and slow as he is, Daun seldom makes a mistake--it seems well-nigh impossible that the prince can get through. "However, Major Drummond, you are likely to see little fighting here; while with the king there will be incessant work for you. Therefore, by all means go to him. He must have lost many of his staff at Kunersdorf, and will, I doubt not, be glad to have you with him." The ride was a shorter one than it had been when going west, for the king lay little more than fifty miles to the east of Berlin. Although there was no absolute occasion for great speed, Fergus rode fast; and on the tenth day after leaving Minden arrived at the royal camp. The king was unaffectedly glad to see him. "You have been more fortunate than I have," he said. "You have been taking part in a victory, while I have been suffering a defeat. I should like to have seen Minden. That charge of your countrymen was superb. Nothing finer was ever done. Rash, perhaps; but it is by rashness that victory is often won. Had it not been done, one would have said that it was impossible for six battalions in line to hurl back, again and again, the charges of ten thousand fine cavalry. But the British division at Fontenoy showed us, not many years ago, that the British infantry, now, are as good as they were under Marlborough. I would give much if I had twenty thousand of them here with my Prussians. It would be the saving of us. "Did Ferdinand send you back, or did you ask to come?" "I asked leave to come, sire. I thought that your staff must have suffered heavily, and that I might be more useful here than with the duke." "Much more useful, major; and indeed, I am glad to have you with me. You have youth and good spirits, and good spirits are very scarce here. Have you heard the last news?" "I have heard no news since I left Berlin, sire." "Dresden is lost. Schmettau surrendered it, and that when relief was but within ten miles of him. The place should have held out for a month, at least. It is incredible. However, I will have it back again before long and, at any rate, it is one place less to guard. I should not have cared so much if the Austrians had taken it, but that that wretched Confederate army, even though they had ten Austrian battalions with them, should have snatched it from me, is heart breaking. However, they have but the capital, and it will take them some time before they can do more." Fink, who had been sent off, with six or seven thousand men, to aid Wunsch to relieve Dresden, on the day before the news of its fall came, did much. He and his fellow commander failed in their first object; but they were not idle, for they recaptured Leipzig and other towns that the Confederate army had taken, and snatched all Saxony, save Dresden, from its clutches. Schmettau was relieved of his command, and never again employed. He had certainly failed in firmness, but Frederick's own letter to him, which had never been cancelled, afforded him the strongest ground of believing that there was no chance of his being relieved. His record up to this time had been excellent, and he was esteemed as being one of Frederick's best generals. Frederick's harshness to him was, at the time, considered to have been excessive. The king, however, always expected from his generals as much as he himself would have accomplished, in the same circumstances, and failure to obtain success was always punished. After the dismissal of his brother and heir from his command, the king was not likely to forgive failure in others. The time was a most anxious one for him. He had nothing to do but to wait, and for once he was well content to do so; for every day brought winter nearer, every week would render the victualling of the hostile armies more difficult, and delay was therefore all in his favour. Messenger after messenger was sent to Prince Henry, urging him to make every possible effort to make his way through or round the cordon of Austrian and Russian posts, eighty miles long and fifty or sixty broad, that intervened between them. In the evenings the king was accustomed to put aside resolutely his military troubles, and passed his time chiefly in the society of the British ambassador, Earl Marischal Keith, and the young Scottish aide-de-camp, with occasionally one or two Prussian officers. One evening, when Fergus had been sent with an order to a portion of the force lying some miles away, Sir John Mitchell said to the king: "I have been talking with the Earl Marischal over young Drummond's affairs, your majesty. As you know, his father's estates were sequestrated after the battle of Culloden, where he himself fell. I am writing a despatch to Pitt, saying that Drummond's son has been serving under your majesty through the war, and has greatly distinguished himself; and have asked him to annul the sequestration, upon the ground that this young officer has done very valiant service to your majesty, and so to the allied cause, giving a list of the battles at which he has been present, and saying that the Duke of Brunswick had, in his report of the battle of Minden to you, spoken highly of the services he rendered him. If you would add a line in your own hand, endorsing my request, it would greatly add to its weight." "That I will readily do," the king said. "I will write a short letter, which you can inclose in your own despatch." And sitting down at once he wrote: "The King of Prussia most warmly endorses the request of his excellency, Sir John Mitchell. Not only has Major Fergus Drummond shown exceptional bravery upon several occasions, which resulted in his promotion to the rank of major with unprecedented rapidity, but he saved the king's life at the battle of Zorndorf, meeting and overthrowing three Russian cavalrymen who attacked him. It would, therefore, give the king very great satisfaction if the English minister would grant the request made on Major Drummond's behalf by his excellency, the English ambassador." "Thank you very much," the latter said, as he read the note Frederick handed him. "I have no doubt that this will be effectual. Culloden is now a thing of the past. There are many Scottish regiments in the English king's service, and many acts of clemency have, of late, been shown to those who took part in the rebellion, and I cannot doubt that Pitt will at once act upon your request. However, I shall say nothing to Drummond on the subject until I hear that his father's estates have been restored to him." As day after day passed, the king became more anxious as to the position of Prince Henry. That energetic officer had indeed been busy and, by threatening an attack upon Daun's magazines, had compelled the Austrian commander to move to Bautzen for their protection, and finally to make a decided effort to crush his active and annoying foe. Gathering a great force in the neighbourhood of Prince Henry's camp, he prepared to attack him on the morning of September 22nd; but when morning came Prince Henry had disappeared. At eight o'clock on the previous evening he had marched twenty miles to Rothenburg. The retreat was superbly conducted. It was necessary to move by several roads, but the whole of the baggage, artillery, and troops arrived punctually the next morning at Rothenburg, just at the hour when Daun's army moved down to the attack of the camp where he had been the evening before. Austrian scouting parties were sent out in all directions, but no certain news could be obtained as to the direction of the Prussian march. The baggage waggons had been seen, moving here and there, but it was four days before Daun was able to learn for certain what had become of him, having until then believed that he must have made for Glogau, to join Frederick. Henry had, however, gone in an entirely different direction. After ordering three hours' rest at Rothenburg he marched west, and arrived at early morning at Klitten, eighteen miles from his last halting place. Starting again after another three hours' halt he marched twenty miles farther, still straight to the west, and fell upon General Weyler who, with thirty-three thousand men, occupied the last Austrian position to be passed. That officer had not the slightest idea of any possibility of attack from the east. The whole Austrian army stood between him and Frederick on the northeast, and Prince Henry on the southeast. He was therefore taken altogether by surprise. Six hundred of his men were killed; and he himself, with twenty-eight field officers and seventeen hundred and eighty-five other officers and men, taken prisoners. This march of fifty hours, in which an army with the whole of its baggage traversed fifty-eight miles, through a country occupied by enemies, is one of the most remarkable on record, and completely changed the whole situation of the campaign. There was nothing for Daun to do, if he would not lose Dresden and the whole of Saxony again, but to follow Prince Henry. This movement completed the dissatisfaction of his Russian ally, Soltikoff, who had been already sorely worried and harassed by Frederick, ever since Daun had moved away to defend his magazines and crush Prince Henry; and now, seeing that his own food supply was likely to fail him, he marched away with his army into Poland. The king was at this time, to his disgust and indignation, laid up for six weeks with the gout; but as soon as he was better, he set off to join Prince Henry. Daun was slowly falling back and, had he been let alone, Dresden might have been recaptured and the campaign come to a triumphant ending. Unfortunately Frederick was not content to leave well alone, and sent Fink with seventeen thousand men to Maxim, to cut off Daun's retreat into Bohemia; intending himself to attack him in front. Daun for once acted with decision, attacked Fink with twenty-seven thousand men and, although the Prussians fought with most obstinate bravery, they were surrounded; battered by the Austrian artillery; while they themselves, having no guns with which to make reply, were forced to surrender. Some had already made their way off, but in killed, wounded, and prisoners, the loss was fully twelve thousand men. Frederick threw the blame upon Fink, but most unjustly. That officer had followed out the orders given him, and had done all that man could do to hold the position that he was commanded to take up, and the disaster was wholly due to Frederick's own rashness in placing so small a force, and that without artillery, where they could be attacked by the whole Austrian army. Fink, after his release at the conclusion of the peace three years later, was tried by court martial and sentenced to a year's imprisonment. This disaster entirely altered the situation. Daun, instead of continuing his retreat to Bavaria, advanced to occupy Saxony; and drove General Dierocke across the Elbe, taking fifteen hundred of his men prisoners. Frederick, however, barred the way farther, and six weeks later both armies went into winter quarters; Daun still holding Dresden and the strip of country between it and Bohemia, but the rest of Saxony being as far out of his reach as ever. The last six weeks of the campaign was a terrible time for all. Frederick himself had lived in a little cottage in the small town of Freyburg, and even after the armies had settled down in their cheerless quarters, he still made several attempts to drive the Austrians out, having received a reinforcement of ten thousand men from Duke Ferdinand. These efforts were in vain. The ten thousand, however, on their way to join the king, had struck a heavy blow at one of his bitterest enemies, the Duke of Wuertemberg, who had twelve thousand of his own men, with one thousand cavalry, at Fulda. The duke had ordered a grand ball to be held, and great celebrations of joy at the news of the Austrian victory at Maxim; but on the very day on which these things were to take place, Ferdinand's men fell upon him suddenly, scattered his army in all directions, took twelve hundred prisoners, and sent the duke with such of his troops as had escaped back to Wuertemberg again; his subjects, who were largely Protestants, rejoicing hugely over his discomfiture. On the day on which Maxim was fought Admiral Hawke, with a small squadron, utterly defeated the French fleet that was to convey an invading army to England. France herself was getting as short of cash as Prussia, and in November it became necessary to declare a temporary bankruptcy and, the king setting the example, all nobles and others possessing silver plate sent them to the mint to be coined into money. So eager was the king to take advantage of any openings the Austrians might give for attack that, although so near Dresden, Fergus was unable to carry out his promise to the Count Eulenfurst to pay him a visit; for he was kept constantly employed, and could not ask for leave. Early in April the king sent for him. The English ambassador was present, but Earl Marischal Keith had gone away on a mission. "I have two pieces of news for you, major," the king said pleasantly. "In the first place, it is now getting on for two years since you did me that little service at Zorndorf, and since then you have ever been zealously at work. Others have gone up in rank, and it is time that you had another step. Therefore, from today you are colonel. No man in the army has better deserved promotion, and indeed you ought to have had it after you returned from Brunswick's army where, as the duke's despatches told me, you had rendered excellent service. So many officers of rank have fallen since then that promotion has been rapid, and it is high time that you obtained the step that you so well deserve. "The other piece of news is for Sir John Mitchell to tell you, for it is to his good offices that it is due." "Very partially so, your majesty," said the ambassador. "It is like enough that Pitt would not have troubled to take action on my recommendation only, had it not been that you so strongly backed my request that, in fact, it became one from yourself. Therefore it is for you to give him the news." "As you please," the king said. "Well then, Drummond, his excellency and your cousin the Marischal put their heads together, and his excellency sent a warm letter to the English minister, saying that you had rendered such services to his sovereign's ally that he prayed that the sequestration of your father's estates should be annulled. I myself added a memorandum saying that, as you had saved my life at Zorndorf, and rendered me other valuable services, I should view it as a personal favour if his request was granted. The thing would have been managed in a couple of days, in this country; but in England it seems that matters move more slowly, and his excellency has only today received an official intimation that the affair has been completed, and that your father's estates have been restored to you." Fergus was, for the moment, completely overwhelmed. He had never thought for a moment that the estate would ever be restored, and the sudden news, following that of his promotion, completely overwhelmed him. It was of his mother rather than of himself that he thought. He himself had been too young to feel keenly the change in their life that followed Culloden; but although his mother had borne her reverses bravely, and he had never heard a complaint or even a regret cross her lips, he knew that the thought that he would never be chief of their brave clansmen, and that these had no longer a natural leader and protector, was very bitter to her. "Your majesty is too good. "Your excellency--" and he stopped. "I know what you would say," the king said kindly, "and there is no occasion to say it. I have only paid some of the debt I owe you, and his excellency's thought gave me well-nigh as much pleasure as it does you. Now, be off to your camp. "You see, Sir John, between us we have done what the Austrians and Russians have never managed between them--I mean, we have shaken Colonel Drummond's presence of mind. "There, go along with you, we have matters to talk over together." Fergus saluted almost mechanically, bowed gratefully to Mitchell, and then left the room in a whirl of emotion. To be the head of his clan again was, to him, a vastly greater matter than to be a colonel in even the most renowned and valiant army in Europe. Of the estates he thought for the moment but little, except that his mother would now be able to give up her petty economies and her straitened life, and to take up the station that had been hers until his father's death. There was another thought, too--that of Countess Thirza Eulenfurst. Hitherto he had resolutely put that from him. It was not for him, a soldier of fortune, without a penny beyond his pay, to aspire to the hand of a rich heiress. It was true that many Scottish adventurers in foreign services had so married, but this had seemed a thing altogether beyond him. He had rendered a service to her father, and they had, in consequence, been most kind to him; but he had thought that it would be only a poor return for their kindness for him to aspire to their daughter's hand. He had put the matter even more resolutely aside because, once or twice, the count had said things that might be construed as hints that he should not regard such an act as presumptuous. He had spoken not unapprovingly of the marriages of ladies of high rank to men who had rendered great services to the countries for which they had fought, and said that, with such ample means as Thirza would possess, there would be no need for him to seek for a wealthy match for her. Thirza herself had evinced lively pleasure, whenever he went to see them, and deep regret when he left them; while her colour rose, sometimes, when he came upon her suddenly. But these indications that he was not altogether indifferent to her had but determined him, more resolutely, to abstain from taking advantage of the gratitude she felt for the service he had rendered. Now, it seemed to him that the news he had heard had somewhat changed the position. He was no longer a penniless soldier. It was true that the Drummond estates were as nothing by the side of the broad lands owned by her father; but at least, now, he was in the position of a Scottish gentleman of fair means and good standing, who could dispense with wealth on the part of a bride, and had a fair home and every comfort to offer to one in his native land. That he had, too, obtained the rank of colonel in the Prussian army, by service in many a desperate battle, distinctly added to his position. Thus, in every respect, the news that he had received was in the highest degree gratifying to him. _ |