The Italian Campaign, 1796-1797
General Bonaparte’s attack on Piedmont, April 1796, demonstrating the prototype of the Maneuver of the Central Position 65
The Maneuver of Lodi, May 1796, the prototype of la manoeuvre sur les derrières (or strategical envelopment)
The Battle of the Bridge of Lodi, May 10, 1796
Late eighteenth-century map of the defenses of Mantua
Photograph by J. R. Freeman & Co., by courtesy of the Trustees, the British Museum, London
The Battle of Arcola: the first day, November 15, 1796
The Battle of Arcola: the second day, November 16, 1796
The Battle of Arcola: the third day, November 17, 1796
The Battle of Rivoli, January 14-15, 1797
Strategic protection: the employment of the cavalry screen before the Battle of Austerlitz, December 1805 148
Strategical formations for the advance; four variations 152
The strategy of envelopment (or la manoeuvre sur les derrières); schematic
The strategy of envelopment; two examples: The crossing of the Alps during the Marengo Campaign of 1800 The wheel from the Rhine to the Danube during the Campaign of 1805
The strategy of the central position (phases); schematic
Grand tactics: Napoleon’s basic battle plan (the Strategic Battle by phases); schematic
The Battle of Castiglione, August 5, 1796: strategical situation early August
The Battle of Castiglione, August 5, 1796: early morning phase
The Battle of Castiglione, August 5, 1796: late morning phase
The Conquest of Lower Egypt; from Alexandria to the Nile
The Conquest of Lower Egypt; the Battle of the Pyramids, July 21, 1798
The invasion of Syria, 1799; El Arish, Acre, and Mount Tabor
The Campaign of 1800 in northern Italy
The Battle of Marengo, June 14, 1800: the morning phase
The Battle of Marengo, June 14, 1800: the afternoon phase
French tactical formations: column of divisions
French tactical formations (continued): l’ordre mixte
French tactical formations (continued): St. Hilaire’s formation at Austerlitz
French tactical formations (continued): Desaix’s attack formation at Marengo; (inset) Morand’s Divisional Formation at Borodino
French tactical formations (continued): massive columns as used at Wagram and Waterloo
French tactical formations (concluded): successive formations adopted by Morand’s division at Auerstadt
Artillery of la Grande Armée: ranges, gun crews, ammunition, etc.
The Campaign of 1805 on the Danube
The Maneuver of Ulm, September 25 to October 21, 1805 393
The Battle of Austerlitz, December 2, 1805: general situation, late the previous evening
The Battle of Austerlitz, December 2, 1805: French and Allied plans
The Battle of Austerlitz, December 2, 1805: the final French attack, 2:30 p.m.
The Campaign of 1806 against Prussia
The Jena Campaign: le Bataillon Carré in action
The Battle of Jena-Auerstadt, October 14, 1806: Napoleon’s plan
The Battle of Jena-Auerstadt, October 14, 1806: main phases of the Battle of Jena
The Battle of Jena-Auerstadt, October 14, 1806: main phases of the 491 Battle of Auerstadt
The Campaigns of 1806-1807 in Poland
The Battle of Eylau, February 8, 1807: the morning battle
The Battle of Eylau, February 8, 1807: the afternoon battle
VOLUME II
The siege of Danzig and the Russian attempt at relief
The Battle of Friedland, June 14, 1807—a map drawn in the 1820’s by Prussian cartographers
Photograph by J. R. Freeman & Co., by courtesy of the Trustees, the British Museum, London
The Campaigns in Portugal and Spain, 1807-1809
The Campaign of 1809 on the Danube
The Battles of Abensburg-Eckmühl, April 20-22, 1809
The Battle of Aspern-Essling, May 21-22, 1809: the first day, May 21
The Battle of Aspern-Essling, May 21-22, 1809: the second day, May 22
The Battle of Wagram, July 5-6, 1809: the first day; the morning crossing and the evening battle
The Battle of Wagram, July 5-6, 1809: the second day
The Russian Campaign of 1812
The Battle of Borodino, September 7, 1812
Photograph by J. R. Freeman & Co., by courtesy of the Trustees, the British Museum, London
The Crossing of the Berezina, November 25-29, 1812
The Campaign of German Liberation, 1813
The Battle of Lützen, May 2, 1813: the morning battle, c. midday
The Battle of Lützen, May 2, 1813: the afternoon battle, c. 6 p.m.
The Battle of Bautzen, May 20-21, 1813
The Battle of Dresden, August 26-27, 1813
The Battle of Leipzig, October 16-19, 1813
Photograph by J. R. Freeman & Co., by courtesy of the Trustees, the British Museum, London
The Campaign of the Defense of France, 1814
The Battle of La Rothière, February 1, 1814: the general situation, 2 p.m.
The Battle of La Rothière, February 1, 1814: the closing phases, 4 p.m.-8 p.m.
A triple defeat for the Allies, February 10-14, 1814:1. the Battle of Champaubert, February 10
A triple defeat for the Allies, February 10-14, 1814:2. the Battle of Montmirail, February 11
A triple defeat for the Allies, February 10-14, 1814:3. the Battle of Vauchamps, February 14
The Battles of Craonne (inset) and Laon, March 8-10, 1814
The Battle of Arcis, March 20-21, 1814
The Campaign of the Hundred Days, 1815
The Battle of Ligny, June 16, 1815; a near contemporary map
Photograph by J. R. Freeman & Co., by courtesy of the Trustees, the British Museum, London
The Battle of Quatre Bras, June 16, 1815: the last phase; a near contemporary map
Photograph by J. R. Freeman & Co., by courtesy of the Trustees, the British Museum, London
The Battle of Waterloo, June 18, 1815: the early phases, 11 a.m. to 3 p.m.
The Battle of Waterloo, June 18, 1815: the later phases, 3 p.m. to 7:30 p.m.
Preface
T
HE 150TH ANNIVERSARY of the Battle of Waterloo would seem to be an appropriate time for the completion of a study of Napoleon’s generalship. Recent years have seen a number of notable additions to the truly vast literature inspired by the many-sided genius of this extraordinary soldierstatesman, but it is now more than sixty-three years since Count Yorck von Wartenburg wrote his famous two-volume study of Napoleon’s campaigns.* Since then there have been numerous military studies devoted to almost every one of those campaigns, and many aspects of the Emperor’s martial genius have been painstakingly analyzed. Among the many distinguished authors whose names spring to mind are Generals Camon and Colin, Colonel Vachée, F. L. Petre, Professor Spencer Wilkinson and Colonel Phipps; more recent writers include H. Lachouque, C. J. Herold and C. Manceron, to cite but a few, while special mention must also be made of the outstanding cartographical achievements of Brigadier General Esposito and Colonel Elting of the United States Military Academy, West Point. An imposing list of Napoleon’s biographers might similarly be compiled, but any attempt to mention even the most significant works inspired by Napoleon would cover many pages. Nevertheless, there is some justification for a modern reassessment of Napoleon’s campaigns, treated as a whole within the scope of a single work. With the notable exception of Commandant Lachouque’s recent study,† the modern trend has been for authors to specialize in particular campaigns or military aspects, and it is hoped that this more general study will prove of some interest to readers in Great Britain and the United States, if only as a “curtain raiser” to the more detailed and authoritative military studies now available.
It would require the work o
f a lifetime to do real justice to so vast a subject, and so much has already been written by such a galaxy of distinguished authors over the past 150 years that it may seem that there is little more that can be usefully added to Napoleonic literature. However, the discovery of a considerable number of new sources since the turn of the century has thrown more light on the period, leading in some cases to important reappraisals. For example, the Memoirs of General Caulaincourt, Duke of Vicenza, which first became available during the 1930s, have illuminated the fateful Russian campaign of 1812 and done much to reveal the character of Napoleon during the years of his decline and fall. Whenever possible such “new” material has been incorporated in the chapters that follow, together with the opinions of more recent scholars and soldiers. For the rest, it has mainly been a case of retelling the fascinating story of a great soldier’s rise to fame and subsequent fall, and of bringing Yorck von Wartenburg’s studies up to date in the light of modern scholarship and knowledge.
This book makes no pretense of providing a comprehensive study of Napoleon and his age. Many aspects of that colorful period receive no mention, and even the military side is incomplete in certain respects. From the start it was decided to restrict the study to a consideration of those campaigns commanded by Napoleon in person, and as a result most of the long war on the Iberian Peninsula has been ignored (except in its broad strategic aspects), and much that is relevant to the great naval struggle has similarly been omitted.
It proved impossible, however, to do justice to Napoleon’s showing as a commander without paying some attention to certain peripheral subjects. Space has accordingly been devoted to analyses of his military education and of the various methods he and his contemporaries applied in the field. It also proved necessary to include a summary of certain aspects of his constructive work as a French statesman—so as to present a contrast with his more destructive activities and at the same time account for the astonishing resilience of the French people and economy under the strain of a dozen years of continuous large-scale war. Similarly, a brief discussion of the machinations and stratagems behind the coup d’état of Brumaire has been included, for the critical events of November, 1799, throw no inconsiderable light onto Napoleon’s character—revealing most particularly his genius for opportunism in the exploitation of unexpected situations, a quality that he constantly applied in the military as well as the political sphere.
I would like to thank Brigadier P. Young, DSO, MC, MA, FSA (retd.), Reader in Military History at the Royal Military Academy, Sandhurst, for reading parts of the manuscript and making many useful suggestions besides lending illustrative material. Another colleague, Mr. A. Brett-James, kindly read the sections of the book relating to 1812 and lent me many memoirs and diaries from his private collection. I am also very grateful to the late Major General J. F. C. Fuller, CB, CBE, DSO (retd.), for giving me his invaluable opinion on the parts dealing with the campaigns of 1806, 1813 and 1815, and to Lieutenant Colonel D. W. V. P. O’Flaherty, DSO, R.A., for affording me the benefit of his extensive knowledge of the Battle of Waterloo; also to Major General H. Essame, CBE, DSO, MC (retd.), for the loan of his contemporary map of Russia. I also wish to thank my patient wife for her invaluable help with the indexing (and for tolerating a very distraught and preoccupied husband over the past four years). I am much indebted to my cousin, Miss P. Deans, and to Miss P. C. McGlinchy, for between them dealing so stoically with what sometimes must have seemed a very baffling manuscript. Lastly I must record a debt of gratitude to the publisher for making this volume possible and for providing encouragement, advice and help at every stage.
DAVID G. CHANDLER
The Royal Military Academy Sandhurst Camberley June 1965
Yorck von Wartenburg, Napoleon as a General (2 vols.; London: 1902).
Commandant H. Lachouque, Napoléon—Vingt ans de campagnes (Paris: 1963).
AUTHOR’S NOTE
FOR the convenience of readers who may find difficulty in recognizing the English equivalent of certain military ranks when these are given in French, here is an explanatory table:
The title of “Marshal” was technically a dignity rather than a specific rank. The highest permanent rank in the French armies at this period was General of Division. Higher ranks and service appointments were held in only an acting capacity. See Nouveau Dictionaire Militaire, Paris, 1892.
Maréchal* Field Marshal
Général d’armée General
Général de corps d’armée Lieutenant General
Général de division Major General
Général de brigade Brigadier General
Colonel Colonel
Lieutenant Colonel Lieutenant Colonel
Commandant, Chef de bataillon Major
Capitaine Captain
Lieutenant Lieutenant
Sous-Lieutenant, Ensigne, Cornette Second Lieutenant, Ensign (infantry), Cornet (cavalry)
Aspirant Candidate Officer or Cadet
Adjudant-chef, Adjudant-Sous-Officier Regimental Sergeant-Major, Warrant Officer, 1st Class
Adjudant Company Sergeant-Major, Warrant Officer, 2nd Class
Sergent-chef Staff Sergeant, First Sergeant
Sergent, Maréchal-des-logis Sergeant, Corporal of Horse
Caporal, Brigadier (cavalry and artillery) Corporal
Soldat première classe Senior soldier
Soldat Private
STAFF RANKS
Major général, Général-en-chef Chief of Staff
Adjudant général (Adjudant commandant after 1800) Staff Officer (First Class), a colonel or lieutenant colonel often serving as a corps or divisional chief of staff
Adjudant Major Staff Officer (usually grade of Major)
Officier d’état-major Staff Officer
Chef de brigade Brigade-Major
GENERAL INTRODUCTION NAPOLEON—THE MAN AND THE GENERAL: QUALITIES AND DEFECTS
H
ISTORY is indeed an argument without end,” wrote Professor Gey1 in his study of Napoleon.¹ It is doubtful whether there has ever been a more stimulating and yet contentious historical subject; each one of the thousands of learned works devoted to Napoleon Bonaparte has painted a different impression of the man. Some, it is true, only vary in the degree of their interpretation, but no two have ever been identical. Consequently there is no denying that Napoleon remains to this day something of an enigma, both tantalizing and elusive—but at the same time he presents a most rewarding subject for study. So many were his interests, so all-embracing was his genius, so massive were his defects that he can be said to represent on a gigantic scale almost all the qualities and foibles of the human race. Herein lies no small part of his fascination.
Ever since the Battle of Waterloo Napoleon has attracted the unremitting attention of historians, memoir writers and simple gossips. Broadly speaking, these have fallen into two main categories—the worshipers and the detractors; Napoleon’s personality has rarely been treated completely objectively or impersonally—he just was not that sort of man. The consensus on Napoleon has swung like a pendulum from generation to generation. His own contemporaries remained uncertain in their judgments, their confusion owing not a little to the propaganda emanating from Longwood on the Island of St. Helena, but the generality of verdict may be summed up in the phrase used by the Earl of Clarendon of Oliver Cromwell: “A great, bad man.” The “ogre” image lingered well into the Victorian period. English mothers, for instance, reputedly chastened their recalcitrant offspring with the dire threat that “Boney will come and get you,” but such attitudes did not remain unchallenged for long. By the middle years of the nineteenth century, opinion was swinging the other way, and the legend of “The Man of Destiny,” the reincarnation of Charlemagne, the thwarted genius and tragic exile of St. Helena, began to gain ground, sedulously fostered by the ceaseless publication of diaries and memoirs written by aging Imperial soldiers and servants, whose recollections—however softened or expanded by the passage of time—served to pile ever
more fuel on sacrificial fires placed before the altar of Napoleon. A few tempered their admiration with criticism, but most worshiped without question, and in France the regime of the great Napoleon’s nephew encouraged the spread of the cult to the very frontiers of irrationality.
After 1870, the worship took a rather different direction. Frenchmen sought to gloss over recent defeats by looking back to the great days of the First Empire, while soldiers of many nations undertook meticulous studies into the methods and campaigns of the great master of the art of war in the hope of discovering his secret. Only the machine guns and barbed wire of 1914 brought the generals back to modern reality. But in the first months of the war the French armies advanced to the attack—always the attack—wearing white gloves and with tricolors unfurled, deliberately trying to recapture the élan of the Napoleonic battlefield, while the famous Schlieffen Plan of Germany owed as much to the strategic conceptions of the Emperor’s Campaigns of 1805 and 1806 as it did to the more recent experiments of the Franco-Prussian War. The results of these attempts to re-create the methods of a century earlier were identical on both sides: horrifying casualties, inevitable loss of impetus and the eventual stalemate of the trench war which persisted for four long years. Seldom have the dangers of misapplying military history been more graphically demonstrated. Since Napoleon’s day, weapon technology—most particularly in the fields of artillery and small arms—had made such strides forward that the old methods no longer held much validity—a lesson which the more discerning might well have drawn from the later years of the U.S. Civil War and most certainly from the more limited experiences of 1870 in France, of 1900 in South Africa and of 1904 in Manchuria. Tragically, however, few had heeded the warnings, and an entire generation of European manhood, and not a few Americans, paid the price with their lives in the agonies of attrition which were the battles of the Somme, Ypres, Verdun, Chemin-des-Dames and St. Mihiel. It was found that courage alone did not provide an adequate answer to mud, wire and automatic weapons.
The Campaigns of Napoleon Page 2