Peace

With the coming of peace, Seydlitz resided in the town of Ohlau, which was the headquarters of his own regiment. Soon Frederick entrusted him with the title of inspector general of cavalry for the entire province of Silesia. Ohlau served as the training school for the Prussian cavalry and Seydlitz's own regiment became the one to emulate. Seydlitz's training methods were not unlike those of his original mentor, the "Mad Markgraf' of Brandenburg Schwedt. New recruits were placed on unbroken horses, and those who remained saddled were enlisted.

The rigorous training to which his troops were exposed led to numerous injuries among his recruits. At one time, Frederick is said to have asked of him, "Seydlitz, what is the cause that so many people break their necks in your regiment?" Seydlitz answered, "Your Majesty need only to command, and such an accident shall not happen again; but then it will not be my fault if, as a consequence, the regiment is unable to do anything against the enemy." (Lawley, page 152.)

When the King came to maneuver the troops of Silesia, Seydlitz was certain that the cavalry deserved his approval, although Frederick was sparing in his praises. Seydlitz himself rarely appeared at the maneuvers in Potsdam, and only when the invitation of the King required it of him. He attended them the last time in 1768. Seydlitz's cavalry school at Ohlau was reckoned superior to all the others, and this opinion, shared by the whole army, was even widespread abroad. On the day of the grand review, Seydlitz himself was the object of general attention. All gazes were fixed intently on him. The troops and the people spoke his name with admiration.

When, in 1769, the Emperor Francis II wanted to have a meeting with the King of Prussia, the place for it was fixed at Neisse, where Frederick had the habit of annually summoning the troops of Upper Silesia. The Emperor urgently asked the King to have the famous cuirassier regiment of Seydlitz there. Frederick could not refuse the request of his august visitor, although the regiment of Seydlitz belonged to Lower Silesia. As a result he harbored a secret grudge.

The King had announced to Seydlitz the arrival of the Emperor and written in his own hand on the back of the letter: "Don't tell a soul." Seydlitz didn't notice this and told his aide de camp, in front of whom he had opened the letter, that he could go ahead and tell his father, the minister von Schlabrendorf, at Breslau. The news spread quickly and went as far as Berlin. The King took it very poorly and soon knew whence came the indiscretion.

The first time he saw the general after his arrival in Silesia, he said dryly: "Since when have you partaken of so many cooked hens that you can't keep anything to yourself?" Seydlitz, taken aback, looked for an excuse and said that he had given the news to his aide de camp, who had probably let it slip. The King, who customarily spoke to the young Schlabrendorf, shot him an icy glance and passed on. The latter couldn't help but complain of this undeserved disgrace, and Seydlitz, himself angry, nevertheless tried to smooth things over, pointing out that the King looked ill and his bad mood would pass.

The King had asked Seydlitz if he needed new standards or anything else that would make his troopers look good. Seydlitz replied that it was more flattering for the regiment to parade with an old standard torn in the war. He asked for new drum hangings, however, because those of the regiment had been captured from the Austrians and might be recognized by the Emperor. The King immediately granted the request.

At these maneuvers, Seydlitz excited the highest admiration. The Emperor had the details of the service explained to him and he attended all the exercises of Seydlitz's regiment. After a maneuver brilliantly executed, he said: "General Seydlitz, that is a maneuver right from Rossbach." The praises that he gave the Prussian cavalry and its illustrious leader lost a little their value in that they disclosed on the part of the Emperor more a desire to be pleasant than any great knowledge of the profession. A word of satisfaction from the mouth of Frederick, on the other hand, would have been much more flattering; however, the King didn't give the least sign of approval and seemed not to notice the effect this produced on his general.

This resulted in a cold and deep resentment, and Seydlitz, instead of seeking rapprochement with the King, affected a desire to remain aloof. His bad mood explains the strange conduct of Seydlitz in the following situation that Frederick Nicolai (I wouldn't be surprised if Nicolai's middle name was probably "Wilhelm.") recounts: It was the third day of the maneuvers; the King, placed on a height, watched attentively through his spyglass. The Emperor was very far from there with Prince Henry, and no one was closer to the King than Seydlitz, who was a hundred paces distant with his regimental surgeon.

Suddenly, the horse the King was riding took fright, reared up, and fell. Frederick was thrown from his horse, which got up and ran away. The surgeon gave a shout and asked the general if he shouldn't go to see if the King was all right. Seydlitz, who saw that Frederick was already on his feet, answered: "Rest easy, the King will not be happy if anyone notices this, especially if he is not hurt." The surgeon asked again if he shouldn't go, and talked of bringing the King one of the general's horses. "No," answered Seydlitz, "not unless the King specifically requests it; my horses are a little hot headed and could cause mischief." This last was a well-directed barb at Frederick's inability to control his own horse. (Worry not, dear reader, for "Old Fritz" was capable of much nastier and more effective put-downs.)

Frederick remained for a quarter of an hour alone and on foot, continuing to watch the evolutions of the troops with his glass, and the general, turning his head away, pretended not to notice what had happened. The horse was returned to the King who mounted it without a word. (Varnhagen, pages 198-199.)

Despite Seydlitz's apparent ill humor toward his sovereign, he nevertheless remained loyal. After the inspection was over, the Emperor conversed privately with Seydlitz. During the course of the conversation, he invited the general to enter Austrian service. Seydlitz's laconic response was, "Your Imperial Majesty would have but a bad acquisition in me, for I only understand how to serve one master, and that is my present one."

Although unchurched, Seydlitz respected religion and always made sure that military chaplains were given their special place in his service. He also cared for his troopers, interceding on numerous occasions with the King to secure pensions to those retired from service who might otherwise have lived in want. He also nearly eliminated corporal punishment from his branch of the service, using the cavalryman's code of honor as more of an inducement for honorable behavior than the fear of punishment.

A respecter of the rights of civilians, he once chastised one of his men for riding his horse directly through a field of standing grain. On the other hand, he could be quite harsh himself with civilians that offended him. He used to like to sit and gaze out his window while smoking his pipe as a form of relaxation. The burgomeister of Ohlau, who lived across the street, would do the same thing every morning in his nightcap. For some reason the sight of the fellow's nightcap struck Seydlitz as disrespectful and he ordered him to remove it. The burgomeister ignored Seydlitz's demands and continued to wear it, whereupon the angry general seized a pistol and fired it through the poor man's window. The latter withdrew in alarm and lodged a complaint with the King, however Frederick refused to take any action against his general. (66 Lawley, pages 185-186.)

Seydlitz's chilly relationship continued with Frederick for some time until one day at Frederick's table where the King was holding forth on the battle of Zorndorf as Seydlitz sulked. Finally Fritz concluded his tale of the day by pointing to Seydlitz and saying, "What more shall I say of it? There he sits, who did win the battle?" (Ibid, pages 174-175. )

Seydlitz brightened at once. This remark did much to heal their strained friendship.

Although possessing remarkable self-control on the battlefield and training ground, Seydlitz's personal behavior was quite wanton. His excesses of tobacco, wine, and the company of women eventually ruined his health. After one particularly wild debauch with a couple of Circassian girls, his physical ailments confined him to his bed. In addition, his syphilis had reached its final, most virulent stage. A gross infection had affected his nose, rendering his countenance quite ghastly. Frederick, upon hearing of his cavalier's indisposition, hastened to his bedside to provide words of encouragement. He is said to have begged of Seydlitz to follow his doctor's instructions, repeating, "I cannot but miss you! I cannot but miss you! I cannot do without you!" All that Seydlitz could do was to turn his head against his pillow so as not to expose his deformity to the King.

To the end, Seydlitz was of an independent mind and not afraid to disagree with Frederick. Earlier, when the King had asked his recommendation as to who his successor in the cavalry should be, he immediately suggested the name of Colonel von Wakenitz, who had been singled out by Seydlitz years earlier for his good conduct at Zorndorf At this time, Wakenitz had left the Prussian service for that of Hesse. Frederick asked, "How can you propose for such a post an officer who is not now in my service?"

Seydlitz, replied, "I know no better." The King was displeased and left him. (68 Ibid, pages 180-182.)

At length, Seydlitz lost his last battle, yielding up his soul on November 7th, 1773, at the age of fifty-three. Both of his old commanders, Frederick the Great and Prince Henry, erected memorials to their fallen friend as to whose merits the two, often at odds, were on this occasion in full agreement.

Bibliography

Duffy, C., Frederick the Great: A Military Life, London, 1990,
Ense, V. von, (S. Delarclause, translator), Vie de Seydlitz, Paris, 1869.
Greenly, W., The Cavalry of Frederick the Great: It's Training, leading and Employment in War, from "The Cavalry Journal," n.d.
Lawley, R., General Seydlitz: A Military Biography, London, 1852.
Schnitter, H., "Friedrich Wilhelm von Seydlitz - der kuhne Reitergeneral," from Gestalten um Friedrich den Grosser, Band 2, Berlin, 1993.

Friedrich Wilhelm Freiherr von Seydlitz (February 3, 1721 - November 3, 1773)

Introduction
1756 and 1757
1758 and 1759
1760, 1761, and 1762
Post War

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