As Napoleon saw it, the artillery was expected to fulfill three roles on the battlefield. First, at the opening of the action, the divisional and corps artillery had the tasks of supporting the infantry and at the same time battering away at the enemy’s points d’appui, thus lowering both his morale and his resistance capability. Then, as the precursor to the main attack against the selected weak point of the enemy’s line, the greater part of the artillery reserve would be rushed to the front (led by the horse batteries at the gallop) to lay down an intensive bombardment, assisted by every available corps and divisional gun, in order to batter a breach into which the masse de décision could plunge. Then, thirdly, in the pursuit (or withdrawal) phase, the horse artillery was ordered to accompany and support the light cavalry, filling gaps in the line when necessary (as after Jena).
Artillery tactics were varied. As a general rule, however, Napoleon placed great reliance on massed batteries of 100 or more guns to batter his foes into submission; the great batteries employed at Eylau, Wagram, Borodino and Waterloo are four cases in point. “The artillery, like the other arms, must be collected in mass if one wishes to attain decisive results.”31 It also became customary for the guns to be very boldly handled. At the opening of an action, the corps and divisional artillery would often ride out in front of the infantry, and, unlimbering at less than 500 yards’ range from the enemy line, commence fire with canister shot with no more ado. As the battleline moved forward, the artillery would generally relimber and advance. Perhaps the most famous use of guns in this aggressive fashion was at Friedland where Brigadier Sénarmont moved his cannon forward by fantastically rapid bounds until he was engaging the Russians at point-blank range.* Similarly, at Wagram, General Drouot covered himself with glory by his handling of the Guard artillery at the crisis of the battle. The effect of the French bombardment could, however, be adversely affected by unfavorable weather conditions. Had it not rained the night before Waterloo the Allied army would certainly have suffered far more damaging casualties. As it was, however, most of the shot hurled at Wellington’s troops holding Mont-St.-Jean buried themselves in the ground, and ricochet fire was out of the question.
To draw together the threads of the last dozen pages, let us summarize the tactical sequence of an imaginary Napoleonic battle. As will be seen, the true secret of success in the field lay in the careful coordination of cavalry, infantry and guns into one continuous process of attack, each arm supplementing the activities of the other two. Through interarm cooperation lay the road to victory.
At the outset, a heavy bombardment would be loosed against the enemy formations, causing fearful losses if they failed to seek shelter, and generally lowering their power of resistance. Under cover of this fire, swarms of voltigeurs would advance to within musketry range and add a disconcerting “nuisance” element by sniping at officers and the like. This preliminary phase would be followed by a series of heavy cavalry and infantry attacks. The secret of these was careful timing and coordination. The first cavalry charges were designed to defeat the hostile cavalry and compel the enemy infantry to form squares rather than to achieve an immediate breakthrough. This task was left to the hurrying infantry columns, which under ideal circumstances would have moved up to close range before the horsemen fell back, and before, therefore, the enemy could resume his linear formation. Clearly, a unit drawn up in square or rectangular formation could produce only a greatly reduced output of fire in any one direction, and this diminution of firepower enabled the French columns to get to close grips without suffering phenomenal casualties—providing all went well. If the attack succeeded, the newly deployed French infantry would blaze a gap through the enemy lines; their accompanying batteries of horse artillery would unlimber and go straight into action at point-blank range, and finally the French cavalry, after reforming, would sweep forward again to exploit the breakthrough.
How could this system of continuous, all-out attack be countered by an adversary on the defensive?
Wellington and his generals were more successful at devising countermoves to these tactics than their Prussian, Austrian or Russian allies. To minimize the effect of the preliminary bombardment and confuse the enemy, great use was made of reverse slopes and other natural cover whenever possible. Very often only the artillery would be in sight along the crest of the ridge. The British gunners would pour fire at the advancing enemy horsemen, changing from ball to canister as the range shortened, at the very last moment abandoning their pieces to run for the shelter of the nearest square, taking their rammers and other movable equipment with them. The French cavalry would then swirl vainly around the silent guns and fire-fringed, bayonet-bristling squares, line after line of horsemen breaking against them like waves against a rock. When at length they fell back, the British infantry would hastily reform their line and prepare to meet the advancing French infantry, while the British cavalry harried the retiring French horsemen. Clinging onto the head of the advancing French columns, British light infantry in extended order would fight a slow withdrawal, trying to gain time for their red-coated comrades to complete their evolutions. Then an ominous silence would fall on the British line. The enemy would come cheering and panting up the slope, but as he came closer his ardor would noticeably cool in the face of the silently-ranged lines of British infantrymen. When the range was right, volley after volley would tear into the head of the columns, often bringing them to a standstill. Wellington on occasion ordered units forward to form new lines facing the flanks of the French mass, thus hemming it in on several sides. After this murderous fire had taken its full toll on enemy men and morale, the British commander would judge the right psychological moment, call for a cheer, and fling his line forward in a bayonet charge, which frequently sent the French reeling back in hopeless disorder. Only when the French had wearied themselves with a whole series of fruitless attacks would the British assume the offensive, sending cavalry, infantry and guns forward to rout the enemy and clinch the victory.
Before concluding with an examination of Napoleon’s staff system and his methods of command, a quick glance must be made at the supporting services of La Grande Armée. Among these the engineers formed a very important arm. As General Foy wrote in his Organisation Militaire: “The sappers raise permanent and field fortifications; they attack and defend fortresses. They accompany the army to war. On these three counts alone one can rest assured that no other military organization in the World possesses a higher degree of ability and patriotism than exists in our corps of engineers. Alexandria, Antwerp, Juliers—and five hundred more places constructed, restored or augmented—these achievements prove that the arts of Vauban have not fallen into decadence in the hands of the Marescots, the Chasseloups and the Haxos. All Europe has been covered by our redoubts and entrenchments…,”32 In size, the corps of engineers remained small; it never totaled more than 10,000 men. But it must be remembered that the bridging trains and other quasi-engineer units were integral parts of the artillery trains. Moreover, the work of the seven regular battalions of engineers was greatly supplemented by pioneer battalions made up of prisoners of war or Allied troops. A special section charged with the making of maps was later developed, and a number of supernumary engineer officers were attached to every headquarters formation. Although engineer troops were not intended to be employed as combatants in actual battle, they nevertheless often performed sterling service under murderous fire; thus in 1809 it was the sappers who built, maintained and repaired the bridges over the Danube during the battles of Aspern-Essling and Wagram, while in 1812 they undoubtedly underwent their finest hour at the crossing of the Beresina where the pair of bridges they extemporized and kept in service represented all the difference between survival and destruction for the remnants of the Grande Armée.*
The relaying of messages and news to and from the front was the responsibility of the Military Telegraph Service, a small organization of highly trained operatives. These troops manned a series of semaphore signal stations linki
ng the great cities of the Empire and kept Paris in contact with the front; under good conditions messages could be passed at 120 miles an hour. As the front advanced, a series of flag relay posts were established to link the Emperor’s headquarters with the nearest permanent semaphore station. However, bad weather—above all, snow or fog—could render the entire system inoperable and lead to critical delays. Thus the majority of messages were still conveyed on horseback, the military postal service running a relay service of mounted messengers and mail coaches to keep the Emperor in contact with the ministries in Paris.
The care of the sick and wounded was entrusted to medical officers and orderlies attached to every formation down to regimental level. In essentials the medical service remained a very rudimentary affair, although under Surgeon-General Larrey every effort was made to improve its efficiency, including the establishment of horse-drawn ambulance companies in 1809. However, every sort of medical equipment from bandages to surgical instruments were invariably in short supply, and the degree of efficiency attained depended greatly on the attitude of the various corps commanders, who controlled the medical funds. For example, Davout was conscientious to a fault; Massena, on the other hand, appropriated the cash to his “little savings.” The attendants were armed in the same fashion as line infantry, and were regarded as combatants.
Supply and logistical support was one of the least efficient branches of the Imperial Army. In the interests of mobility and self-dependence, the needs to “live off the countryside” and to “make war support war” were constantly reiterated. Originally, the provision of supplies was entrusted to civilian contractors, but these proved so fraudulent and inefficient that Napoleon replaced them with carefully picked intendants, one being appointed for each rear-support area. In 1809 he also introduced nine battalions of supply-train troops, responsible for the establishment of forward depots, convoys and front-line distribution, and in 1812 these were augmented to a total of 22 formations, but at best they provided a mediocre service. This was not through any lack of application on the part of the commissaries and their assistants. The poor condition of most European roads (especially those east of the Niemen and south of the Pyrenees) and the customary rapid rate of advance of the formations of the Grande Armée made it virtually impossible for the bulky and slow-moving wagon trains to keep up. For most campaigns, Napoleon restricted the amount of supplies carried in the supply trains to between four and seven days’ rations of flour and biscuit, intending that these stores should be issued only when the army was in close proximity to the foe, a circumstance which precluded any possibility of the men foraging for themselves in the normal manner. Faced by the largely barren and uninhabited wastes of Russia in 1812, the Emperor attempted to improvise a more comprehensive supply system relying on flotillas of river boats as well as wagon convoys for the movement of vast quantities of supplies from Danzig and Königsberg to the front. These arrangements, however, soon broke down, and the army that traveled to Moscow marched on largely empty stomachs. The troops that retreated therefrom fared even worse, but this was mainly a matter of disciplinary breakdowns rather than of short supply; for, paradoxically, as the Grande Armée retreated it repeatedly came upon well-stocked rear depots (at Smolensk and Vilna, for instance), but the troops wrought havoc with these much-needed supplies, wasting and destroying what they could not gorge on the spot. Thus problems of distribution and control rather than of actual provision were the aspects of logistics that proved insoluble.
The methods employed to raise troops during the earlier years of the Revolutionary Wars were varied. In January 1791 the Assembly called for 100,000 “volunteer auxiliaries” to supplement the standing army. Fewer than a third of this number materialized. Consequently, in June, a desperate government decreed that one out of every twenty National Guardsmen was to be made liable for front-line service. The result was still unsatisfactory, and the government again called for volunteers from the Départements later in the year. Eventually perhaps 40,000 “Volunteers of 1791” made their appearance, but an over-idealistic government then gave them the option of quitting the armies on two months’ notice—an opportunity which almost all availed themselves of that same winter. Its army melting away, the panic-stricken government decreed a new levy in May 1792, but it was two months before the idea of la patrie en danger caught the popular imagination as Austro-Prussian armies converged on the frontiers. The response was then enormous, and soon large numbers of “fédérés”—keen if untrained and undisciplined—were on their way to the front. These new units, however, squabbled incessantly with the remnants of the “Volunteers of 1791,” while the regular formations scorned both with equal disdain. Despite these internal divisions, this was the army which fought at Valmy. However, by the end of the year, the most pressing crisis being over for the time being, many “fédérés” deserted and ravaged the countryside of France in roving bands.
The renewed crises of 1793—most especially the mass desertion of officers inspired by General Dumouriez’s defection to the Allies—clearly called for more extreme measures. The Committee of Public Safety consequently passed the Réquisition law (August) which made all males between 18 and 25 liable for military service for the duration of hostilities. This levée-en-masse produced nearly half a million recruits (at least on paper), and represents the true beginning of conscription. This term, however, was not formally employed until September 1798, when General Jourdan, Minister of War, implemented his Conscription Law which subdivided available manpower (within the former age limits) into five classes according to age and marital status.
Selection within the class group was by lot.
For an explanatory note on the different types of French troops, see Glossary.
See Ch. 20, p. 226.
See picture, pp. 294-95. Squares were usually drawn up so as to be mutually supporting, each presenting the angle of a corner toward the enemy and thus making it possible to sweep the intervals between the various squares with a devastating crossfire. The apex of the squares also tended to channel the enemy horsemen into two streams, somewhat after the fashion of a breakwater, thus diverting them into the prepared “killing ground.”
See diagram, p. 351.
A shortened version of the Charleville musket, measuring (without bayonet) approximately 37 inches in length.
Marshal Marmont was directly responsible, under the Emperor, for almost all the reforms carried through in the artillery arm under the Empire.
The distinction between “foot” and “horse” artillery was that in the former the gunners marched alongside their pieces, while in the latter they were mounted or rode on the limbers: artillerie volante were all mounted to achieve additional mobility.
In 1805, the total number of artillery pieces available (including garrison guns) was as follows: heavy, 4,506; intermediate and light, 7,366; howitzers, 8,320; mortars, 1,746.
See diagram of ranges, etc., pp. 358-59.
See Ch. 58, p. 579.
See Ch. 73, p. 840.
33
IMPERIAL HEADQUARTERS
The control, coordination and direction of half a million men presented gargantuan difficulties in the days before radio telegraphy, but the Grand-Quartier-Général of the Imperial Army was a complex and many-sided organization that proved capable of at least reasonable efficiency. Although it never matched the standards of the later Prussian staff system, first created by Scharnhorst and Gneisenau during the years of Prussia’s rebirth after the cataclysm of Jena, it was nevertheless the first fully comprehensive staff organization to make its appearance. Napoleon’s headquarters was charged with the task of governing France and the Empire as well as the direction of its huge armies, and consequently there is little wonder that it became a vast organization of varying efficiency. Even in 1805 headquarters numbered more than 400 officers and 5,000 men, but by 1812 it had grown to far vaster proportions, containing no less than 3,500 officers and more than 10,000 men (including clerks and escort troops).
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How was Imperial Headquarters organized? From the outset it should be appreciated that from 1805 there were invariably three main branches, each being further subdivided into numerous sub-sections or departments. First, and by far the most important part of Imperial Headquarters was the Household or Maison, Napoleon’s personal staff organization. Secondly, there was the General Staff of the Grand Army, presided over by Berthier. Thirdly, there was the staff of the General Commissary of Army Stores who looked after all matters pertaining to the acquisition, transportation and distribution of supplies of all sorts. These branches were invariably in existence, and were integrated by means to be described below, but on certain important campaigns a whole cluster of subsidiary staffs would also accumulate around the “big three,” swelling the number of personnel who could accurately be termed “members of the staff” to truly phenomenal proportions. For example, Napoleon would often insist on being accompanied into the field by key representatives of the Imperial Government, so as to be able to conduct diplomatic and internal business at the same time as military affairs. On such occasions, as in 1812, at least one Secretary of State would accompany the army with his personal staff of assistants; the Minister of Foreign Affairs was another civil dignitary who merited a separate establishment; the Treasury also habitually sent a sizeable contingent. Then there were various subsidiary military headquarters kept in close proximity to Imperial Grand Headquarters; both the artillery and engineer commanders in chief maintained a substantial entourage; the colonel generals of the Guard possessed a special staff, while the Imperial Guard—which rose from the strength of a small division in 1805 to the size of a minor army by 1812—inevitably developed a large and complex organization of its own. Little wonder, then, when Berthier ordered a full-scale review of the staff at Vilna in 1812, that an observer noted the parade’s resemblance to a corps drawn up in battle order. “Picture the massing at one place of everything belonging to the Staff,” continued de Fezensac; “Imagine the prodigious number of servants, led horses and baggage of all kinds which it dragged after it—and you will have some idea of the spectacle presented by Grand General Headquarters.”33 Of course, it proved impracticable to move the entire organization in one mass or even to assemble it at a single place, and accordingly the various components moved and set up their offices in accordance with a strict routine and carefully-designed timetable. Thus in 1812 the movement of the staff and all its appendages past a single point could take up to seven days, and an increasing degree of decentralization was encouraged. Thus the Grand Commissary of Army Stores would establish his headquarters some considerable distance behind the front, and as often as not the Minister of Foreign Affairs would be even further to the rear; in 1812 the latter got no closer to Moscow than Vilna.
The Campaigns of Napoleon Page 47