The French Campaign of 1859
by Dr. Patrick Marder
Despite its possibilities and perspectives, the practical heritage of the
Crimean War for the French Army was a meager one. The Historique of
the artillery service admitted openly in 1858 that "the fusil d'infanterie
[the smoothbore musket] has rendered little or no service "; which is
quite a strong statement when one remembers that this weapon equipped 83% of
French forces in the Crimea.[1] Essentially then, an overwhelming proportion of
French infantry—the men of the line regiments—made little direct military
contribution to combat, surrendering the decisive battle role to the elite
forces of the Zouaves, Turcos, Chasseurs, equipped with rifled arms and
fighting in the light infantry order.
And while the usefulness of rifled arms had been recognized, this understanding
did not translate into any significant tactical evolution; more perniciously,
the idea that success depended on the spirit and élan of offensive charges
continued to flourish. Strategically also, there seems to have been no
comprehension of what spiraling technological progress in weapons represented.
The experience of Africa—much longer and extensive than the war in the
Crimea—still upheld audacity, courage, and autonomy, more than weaponry, as the
decisive ingredients to victory.
1859: In the footsteps of Bonaparte
If the Crimean War did little to develop French tactics and armament, this
conflict was nonetheless rich in consequences in other areas. Perhaps one of
the most evident was the final rupture of the system of 1815 and the return of
France as the diplomatic hub of Europe. Less obvious but no less important, was
the emergence of a new tactical and strategic tendency in military affairs.
This tendency was developing, gaining in strength with each passing year, with
each new war. While the accidents and incidents of individual wars might veil
or syncopate this tendency, this in nowise made it any less real. The
preponderance of firepower as the ultimate and decisive factor in
combat—unmistakably made clear by the Crimean War—was operating a fundamental
shift in the pre-existing tactical and strategic systems; those who persisted
in closing their eyes to this truth, continuing to pursue an expansive,
adventuristic foreign policy with concepts and means become archaic ran great
risks...
The challenge posed by the Italian campaign, at first glance, appeared
sizeable. The enemy already occupied the very defensible terrain of Lombardy, a
region, the enemy, moreover, in the tradition of Radetsky's 1848 triumphs, must
have been perfectly familiar with. Besides this, the French army in 1859 was
facing an adversary far better armed than the Russians in 1854: the Austrians
were equipped with a rifle more modern and effective than the weapons arming
the French infantry.[2]
Nonetheless, France's and Sardinia's victory against Austria in 1859 seemed
once again to confirm French military primacy: had not the impetuous men in red
pantaloons shown an irresistible offensive force in overthrowing the men of
Franz Josef? Behind this brilliant victory, however, were hidden some troubling
symptoms.
First, it must be acknowledged that the Austrians were not first-class
opponents, either in terms of tactics or armament. Their artillery was
outclassed by the French in both type and caliber—Napoleon III's army being
equipped with the 12 pounder canon-obusier as well as the new rifled Lahitte 4
pounder just entering service. What is more, the Austrians—apart from the elite
Jäger units—suffered from a pronounced penchant for the formalism of
drill-ground evolutions and neglected musketry practice as well as real-world
tactical movement training.[3] And, just as the British, French, and Russian
armies each were oppressed by the sometimes restrictive heritage of a
Wellington, Napoleon, or Suvorov, so Franz-Josef's army also appeared burdened
by the lingering influence of the Archduke Charles. It was no exaggeration,
then, for a German writer to observe in 1856 that
"There is no army in Europe which, in all its physiognomy still displays so
many medieval characteristics as the Austrian." [4]
Another weakness was that the Austrian Imperial army naturally reflected the
mosaic of nationalities encompassed by the Habsburg dominion; the resulting
bouillon of antagonisms—rendered yet more explosive by the bloody incidents of
ethnic and class conflict during the revolution and Hungarian revolt of 1848
and 1849—did certainly not accrue moral strength or cohesion to the Empire's
regiments.
Strategically, Austria in 1859 lies in an unenviable position: Prussia remains
hostile in view of the Olmutz Diktat of 1850 and the underlying
rivalry of the two states for German primacy; Russia, too, is not well-disposed
towards Vienna: the abandonment and hostile neutrality of Franz-Josef during
the Crimean War, all the bitterer after Nicholas I's key aid in 1849 in
quelling the Hungarian revolt, still fester as do the conflicting Balkan
interests.[5] Finally, there is the Porte, the hereditary enemy of Austria.
Austria is literally surrounded by powers who bear her little sympathy, if not
outright hostility.
Politically and diplomatically too, Austria entered the campaign with
liabilities, self-inflicted in this instance. With England and the other German
states already disposed to sympathize with Vienna's cause in view of Napoleon
III and Cavour's bellicose maneuvering, it would seemingly have required little
skill for Austria to forge a strong political or even military alliance. But
this inestimable diplomatic advantage was wasted when, without even consulting
his foreign minister, Count Buol, the Emperor Franz-Josef dispatched an
ultimatum to the Sardinian capital Turin, demanding immediate demobilization.
This intemperate act isolated Austria at the decisive moment: war was now
inevitable.
Austria was therefore, for a plethora of reasons, military, political,
economic, and geo-strategic, not the most formidable of opponents for French
and Piedmontese arms in 1859. Barring an egregious faux pas, the victory of the
allies was foreseeable.
As we earlier noted, the French conduct of operations in 1859 betrayed several
weaknesses, one of which, the incapacity to draw the tactical consequences of
the introduction of rifled arms during the Crimean War, concerns us directly.
Napoleon III's proclamation to his troops upon his arrival in Piedmont on 14
May 1859, evidences the uncertainty in French tactical conceptions, even four
years after the great battles of the Crimea:
"I do not need to stimulate your ardor, each stage recalls a victory, in
passing through Mondovi, Marengo, Lodi, Castiglione, Arcola, Rivoli, you march
in a sacred path, amid these glorious memories...
Retain the strict discipline that is the pride of the Army...In battle, remain
closed-up and do not abandon your ranks to run forward. Avoid too great an élan
: that is the only thing I fear. The many arms of precision are only dangerous
from afar; they will not prevent the bayonet from being, as it was before, the
terrible arm of the French infantry..." [6]
This proclamation merits consideration. Three elements are of primary
importance: the allusion to the Napoleonic example, the injunction to remain
"closed-up", and the minimization of the effectiveness of rifled arms at short
and medium range.
Right away, it is quite significant that the allusion to the Italian victories
of the French army under the command of his illustrious uncle is more than
symbolic: Napoleon III insists that the bayonet will be "as it was before
" the terrible arm; clearly then, we are dealing here not with a mere evocation
or romantic flourish, but with the recommendation of a real tactical mode.[7]
In enjoining his troops to retain a compact, dense formation, the Emperor is
again returning to the past. It is the old fear of having the troops disperse
and become unmanageable, uncontrollable if formed in deployed lines or
skirmishing formation.
Finally, and, from our point of view, the most curious, is this phrase on the
ineffectiveness of rifled arms. It is manifestly false, and it is difficult to
believe that its falsity was not obvious to the Emperor, who fancied himself
something of an expert in these military-technical matters. It is true that
unpracticed or raw troops did often fire too high, overestimating the distance
on their sights. But to deduce from such special, and easily remedied, cases
that rifled arms are "only dangerous from afar " is a gross and fatal
error. By hundreds of trials in dozens of countries for twenty years before
1859, it had been clearly and indisputably proven that the precision of rifled
arms (and even smoothbore arms for that matter) increases as range decreases.
At distances of 200 meters or less, these weapons can achieve hit percentages
exceeding 90%. Not only is their precision higher at these short ranges, but
also their penetrative power, stopping power, and overall lethality. Common
sense, many trials, ballistic theory, and, most of all, the first-hand
experience of combat in the Crimea left no doubt: rifled arms, precision arms,
are extremely deadly at short or medium range. Unsurprisingly, Napoleon III's
remarks provoked some discussion within the ranks at this time.[8]
So, how are we to explain Napoleon III's exhortations? It might be that he had
been convinced by the claims of some contemporary conservative military
thinkers like Colonel Laure, who believed that rifle fire was no more effective
than musket fire under three hundred meters and that the use of movable sights
was beyond the skill of the average soldier.[9] We find it more credible,
however, that behind this devaluation of rifled arms was the fear that a true
appreciation by rank and file of the firepower of the new weapons might put a
brake on the French troop's renowned élan, causing them to hesitate charging
the enemy and instead engage in desultory, inconclusive long-range firefights.
With the unfriendly stance of Prussia and Britain towards his adventurism,
Napoleon III had all the more incentive to arrive to a military decision as
quickly as possible. And, in order to obtain a quick military resolution of the
campaign, resolute offensive action was necessary. In the opinion of Lieutenant
Lacapelle—an eminently qualified officer in the gunnery and small arms
specialties—the Emperor's proclamation is to be seen in this light:
"Napoleon III knew to whom he spoke; he spoke also to derive the greatest
advantage from the quality of his soldiers under the circumstances of our
armament; he knew the Austrians to be indifferently solid, ill-armed although
far less than we. He was right to speak thus, he could not have spoken any
differently in a proclamation at the outset of a campaign...but these words
still prove nothing. He would certainly not repeat them today on the eve of a
new campaign." [Lacapelle was writing this around 1867-1868] [10]
In our study of the campaign of 1859 we will focus our attention on four
battles: Montebello, Magenta, Melegnano (also referred to as "Marignan" in some
French texts), and Solférino. All were presented as French victories (the
limited Sardinian forces of king Victor-Emmanuel played a marginal role ). And
while it is true that in all three instances the French remained in possession
of the field of battle, the real issue of these victories was quite equivocal,
even pyrrhic. It is important to note that this hallmark of the battles in
Lombardy in 1859 was an essential consequence of the use of rifled arms in
combat. Contrary to the situation in the Crimea, the French were fighting an
adversary who, as Napoleon III stated in his proclamation, was armed with
rifles. There was little chance, then, of big victories at a low price as had
been the case at the battles of the Alma and Inkerman; for the French in 1859
the tactical reality had shifted: without a significant advantage—indeed, a
clear disadvantage—in small arms, the conditions of material superiority had to
be sought elsewhere.
One thing remained certain: in 1859 France no longer possesses the material
superiority of rifled arms. Would this important difference have an influence
on combat and tactical development?
MONTEBELLO—20 May 1859
Having wasted the strategic opportunity of a pre-emptive offensive on a
numerically and qualitatively weaker Sardinian army before the arrival of
French forces via the Alps pass of Mont Cenis and the port of Genoa, the
Austrian army belatedly dispatched a strong reconnaissance force consisting of
IX corps and elements of V corps under Stadion from Vaccariza, across the Po,
in the direction of Voghera.
Stadion's exploratory corps, forming the left flank of Feldzeugmeister Count
Gyulay's army numbered two divisions, totalling some 24,000-28,000 troops (24
infantry batallions, 9 cavalry squadrons, and 8 artillery batteries numbering
60 pieces). It marched in a south-westerly direction in three columns. In the
path of the Austrians were the French and Sardinians, the latter represented by
a light cavalry brigade, the French comporting the division of Forey ca. 8,000
troops (13 infantry batallions, 1 cavalry squadron, and 2 artillery batteries),
disposed with the brigade of Blanchard on the left and the brigade of Beuret on
the right.
The battleground around Montebello was a varied one: criss-crossed with many
irrigation channels, fertile orchards alternated with forested patches and were
interspersed with small villages nestled in the Apennine foothills overlooking
the Voghera-Stradella railroad line and highway.
Initially, Count Stadion's incursion went well and fast: his columns
encountered undefended villages and swept forward along a seven kilometer
front, leaving behind garrisons in the towns it traversed. It was only as the
left or southern column under Feldmarschalleutnant Urban arrived at
Casteggio that it ‘bumped' the Sardinian calvary outposts. Undeterred, the
Austrians moved forward, pushing the Sardinian cavalry, despite repeated
charges, a little more than 1 kilometer back through Montebello, to the village
of Genestrello.
Here the French appeared, General Forey hastily assembling four batallions and
immediately throwing them into a general counter-attack. With insufficient
force and lacking significant artillery support Forey's attack predictably made
little headway, especially once the Austrian 3rd Jäger counter-attacked.
Nevertheless, Forey's initially dispersed forces were now rapidly converging:
the brigade Blanchard deployed along both sides of the Strada Ferrata and
with the brigade Beuret (consisting of the 74th and 84th line infantry and the
17th chasseurs à pied ) on its right launched a renewed attack on
Genestrello. Maneuvering effectively and concentrically on the Austrian
positions, Forey's batallions, after a see-sawing contest successively disloged
Urban's troops from Genestrello and Montebello in embittered house-to-house
fighting. With either side too exhausted to pursue or counter-attack, the
Austrians withdrew. The battle was over, and with only 700 casualties to the
Austrians' 1,400, the victory had gone to the Franco-Sardinians.
Despite the equally confident communiqués released by the belligerents in the
wake of Montebello, there was little tactical brilliance to be found on either
side. Clearly, the Austrians had bungled matters badly, never putting to use
their numerical superiority—half their forces never took an active role in
combat, and only 16 of their 60 artillery pieces. And, aside from the Jäger,
the tactical formation of the Austrian line infantry in their two-company front
columns (Divisionsmassen ) failed to make much use of their better
rifles.
Forey, on the other hand, had employed the meager resources at his disposal
with much greater, indeed perhaps too much, dynamism. Tactically, this
offensive effervescence had led to disproportionately heavy losses in cadres.
But operationally, the boldness and confidence shown by Forey paid dividends,
as the Austrians overestimated the French strength, believing a entire corps to
be at Voghera and mistakenly concluding that here lay the enemy's strategic
‘center of gravity.'
But they were disturbing, if latent, symptoms to be seen in the French
operational handling of the battle as well. While individual units had shown
great initiative—notably the 1st battalion of the 93rd regiment of Autemarre's
division, which double-marched 30 kilometers to the sound of the canon before
joining the Blanchard brigade's flank attack—other units and commanders,
notably Baraguey d'Hilliers 2nd division, remained complacent when their
participation could have transformed an Austrian rebuff into an Austrian rout.
MAGENTA—4 June 1859
The first great battle of the campaign of 1859, the battle of Magenta offers
nothing of particular brilliance to the eye of the military critic: it is a
very disconnected clash, envisaged neither by the French, nor the Austrians.
Napoleon III planned to outflank Austrian positions at Magenta by maneuvering
the 2nd Corps of General Mac Mahon on the left bank of the Ticino while another
grouping, consisting of the Imperial Guard and the 3rd and 4th Corps of Niel
and Canrobert, crossed the Ticino further south. Major contact with enemy
forces was not anticipated before the morrow of the operation. French staff
officers appeared convinced that the Austrians would docilely await the closing
of Napoleon III's pincer movement.
But again, destiny winks; the Austrians, independent of Napoleon III movement,
have already decided to withdraw towards the north-east. They are, however,
even slower in retreating as Mac-Mahon is in advancing: on the morning of June
4, the 2nd Corps begins to encounter stiffening resistance. As a result, the
coordinated movement on Magenta by the two French army groups falls apart. Only
Mac-Mahon's final breakthrough from the north tant bien que mal ,
finishes by dislocating the Austrian position. The French army is victorious
but mainly through the velour of its soldiery and the lackluster performance of
the opposing commander, Graf Giulay. Operationally, the battle is marked by
troubling errors in communication, coordination and concentration. Tactically,
the familiar method of bayonet shock tactics, essentially similar to those
employed a half-century earlier, are continued without any regard for the
possibilities offered by the rifled arms now equipping the infantry, nor the
hazards posed by the deadly fire of the small-caliber high-velocity Lorenz of
the Austrians which struck French officers particularly hard.
Admittedly, the type of terrain encountered at Magenta was not without
influence on the battle and on the character of the combat. The fertile land
bore a certain resemblance to the densely cultivated bocage country
encountered in Normandy. As the official Prussian history of the war, published
under the supervision of von Moltke, states: "The region is particularly
covered; the view only rarely goes further than one field or prairie of four
hundred or six hundred square feet. Outside of the paths, troop movements are
extremely difficult, even impossible." [11]
But French tactics did little to exploit either the possibilities of the
terrain or of its new weaponry. The tactical formations of infantry reflect the
disregard of firepower as the decisive combat factor. A sub-lieutenant of the
45th line infantry regiment, part of the first division of Mac-Mahon's 2nd
Corps sets the scene: an advance of a line of battalions in column each
preceded by a company of skirmishers some 100 meters in advance.[12] In the
second division of the same Corps, the dispositions are the same and combat is
engaged at the shortest range:
"We were in column by platoons at section distance; we advanced in echelons,
with the second battalion a little bit back, a company of skirmishers in
front...Reaching within 150 meters of the Austrians, one could distinctly see
wavering in their lines; the first ranks were throwing themselves back on the
rear ranks." [13]
The Austrians, it is true, do not themselves present a more adapted tactical
conception or practice:
"...the regiment was disposed in column by battalions closed up; it had not
thought to cover itself with skirmishers and could at that moment only furnish
a rather limited volume of fire, its first ranks fired by platoons, followed
immediately by fire at will." [14]
Perhaps this was only an incidental, unrepresentative instance—though not to
cover the infantry battalions with a chain of skirmishers, not to reconnoiter
the terrain in so lushly planted a section as this corner of Lombardy seems an
unpardonable error—but one thing is certain: this type of tactical ineptitude
contributed notably to French successes and in this case, as in others, the
Austrian regiment was forced to withdraw pell-mell. French élan was apparently
irresistible, the Emperor's grandiloquence vindicated. But not all were duped
by appearances:
"My opinion is, that at Magenta, we were very lucky; the overgrown terrain in
which we fought favored us...I do not believe we would have succeeded as well
in open country. In the taking of the cannon, the Austrians were taken by
surprise; they seemed stunned; those we took prisoner still held their weapons
and did not surrender them or make use of them. It was an attack "à la Zouave"
which, when it succeeds, produces astonishing results, but if one is unlucky it
sometimes costs dear..." [15]
Ardant du Picq correctly points out the key weakness in the tactical "method"
of the rushing bayonet attack exemplified by the Zouave: "when it succeeds"
; the country consisted of densely planted orchards and groves, the enemy did
not dispose of deep or wide fields of fire, he may not in many cases have had
much familiarity with his weapons; thus, a well-timed impetuous assault could
succeed—especially against Austrian units of indifferent quality.
But in other sectors of the Magenta battle less favorable to the employment of
the bayonet rush, the tactical methods of the French nevertheless remained the
same. General Lebrun describes the formation of the 15th line infantry regiment
and the Tirailleurs Algériens during the assault of Robechetto: "...in close
column 300 meters from the village. The Tirailleurs Algeriens moves its
battalions in double columns at section intervals." [16]
There is no deployment, simply a mad rush forwards to engage hand-to-hand
combat:
"The Austrians, hidden in great numbers behind the hedges and strongly
entrenched at the entry of the village greeted with a lively fire the heads of
the French battalion columns; but these hardly responded to the fire; they
rushed towards the hedges with the bayonet only." [17]
Until this stage the troops of Mac-Mahon's 2nd Corps had benefited from
surprise and from the application of superior numbers on isolated local knots
of resistance, but with the attack now driving directly south against Magenta,
the Austrian positions are increasingly difficult to overrun or outflank, even
with all the audacity and courage these veterans mustered. Finally, along the
railroad line running north of the Magenta outskirts, the 2nd Corps is
confronted with a solid line of resistance:
"The line of skirmishers which was opposed to it was very dense...formed with
men standing elbow to elbow and sheltered by the ditch. Two paces behind it, a
line of soldiers just as numerous was exclusively employed in loading and
passing weapons to those of the skirmishers who had just fired, so that the
gunfire did not stop." [18]
On the right wing of the French army the first division of the Imperial Guard
of general Mellinet forces the crossing of the Ticino at Ponte Nuovo in a
movement that theoretically should have been coordinated with Mac-Mahon's
advance. But the 2nd Corps is still distant, and the Austrians can at their
leisure concentrate their forces and reinforcements on Mellinet. Bitter attacks
and counter-attacks swirl around the bridges and banks of the Ticino and the
canal, the Naviglio Grande, that runs parallel to it. Mellinet only just avoids
a glorious end with two horses killed under him, Brigadier Cler—a veteran
officer of the Crimea—is mortally wounded; commanders of the Guard Desmé and
Maudhuy are killed, General Wimpffen is wounded, and more than two hundred of
the Zouaves are hors de combat as well.
Breaching the perimeter defences north of Magenta along the railroad, the
railroad station and a line of fortified houses is equally costly to the 2nd
Corps. Divisional General Espinasse, another decorated veteran of the Crimea,
is killed by the Tyrolean Jägers, charging at the head of his troops. His
aide-de-camp suffers the same fate; Colonels Drouhot of the 65th line regiment
and de Chabrière of the 2nd Légion Étrangère are also killed...
Another troubling phenomenon at Magenta: the imperfect use of artillery by the
French. Indeed, the new rifled cannon were very promising. The Lahitte four
pounder enjoys a marked superiority over the cannon equipping the Austrians; an
advantage quite as definite as that of rifled small arms compared to smoothbore
muskets. At 1500 meters, the Lahitte four pounder achieves average horizontal
deviations of 1.9 meters while the smoothbores typically have horizontal
deviations exceeding 5 meters at a range of only 1200 meters. The practical
implications of the superior range and accuracy of the rifled artillery are
telling: if a smoothbore twelve pounder was able to hit a company front-sized
target one in four times at 1200 meters, a Lahitte rifled four pounder could
hit it four out of four times. Even at 3000 meters—a range that smoothbore
artillery cannot reach—the Lahitte four pounder maintains a mean horizontal
deviation of less than 5 meters. Beyond this, the little Lahitte four pounder,
thanks to the use of elongated projectiles rather than conventional
cannonballs, has a throw-weight nearly equal (4 kg as opposed to 4.13 kg) to
that of the smoothbore twelve pounder whose overall weight is more than twice
that of the rifled piece (700 kg as opposed to 1550 kg).
But the formidable potential of the Lahitte rifled four pounder was oddly put
to use at Magenta. At the engagements near Ponte Nuovo and the Naviglio several
of the precious guns are overrun by the Austrians, one of them even captured by
the Tyrolean sharpshooter regiment, the Kaiserjäger. Given that the bridgehead
established here by the 1st Corps was quite shallow, the placing of artillery
pieces ranging up two three kilometers in such an exposed position is difficult
to understand. Moreover, the use of rifled artillery in a close support role is
doubly faulty: firstly by the limited dispersion of case shot such pieces
naturally offer due to the very fact of their straight shooting and, secondly,
by the vulnerability of crew and draught horses before an enemy disposing of
quite effective rifled small arms (a lesson already demonstrated at the battles
of the Alma and Inkerman).
The final costs of the battle of Magenta were of 657 killed and 3,858 wounded
and missing for the French, and 1,368 killed, 4,538 wounded, and 4500 prisoners
for the Austrians. Compared to the battle of the Alma, total French losses are
proportionately twice as heavy; in killed they are three times as heavy—against
an enemy morally less solid than the Russians. The difference between the
losses is attributable to the effect of the deadly fire of the Austrian rifles
: no modification in French tactics has taken place, and the potential
advantage offered by the Lahitte rifled artillery has been largely thrown
away—the gun crews are unfamiliar with their new field-pieces. Mostly one sees
the repeated us of swarming rushes with the bayonet. But to employ this method
in all situations, especially in confined areas like the attack of bridgeheads,
entrenchments, or fortified houses is an invitation to cruel losses, especially
as regards leaders. Ultimately, in the culminating phase of the assault on
Magenta proper, it is rather the contribution of General Auger's concentrated
artillery fire in conjunction with a turning movement led by Vinoy's division
against the western side of the city, held only by three Austrian regiments
(compared to nine aligned against Espinasse on the north) that is decisive.
Unfortunately, it is neither the turning movement nor the concentrated
artillery support that fixate contemporary attention:
"[the troops] have shown an astonishing superiority, it is the excess of
courage and of valour, which does not know any obstacle. Vigor and audacity in
the attack have sufficed to surmount difficulties and ensure victory."
Extracting such conclusions from the battle of Magenta was exceedingly
dangerous. As we have seen, it was a turning movement, concentrated artillery
support, in addition to numerical superiority on the key axes, capitalizing on
the passivity of Austrian generalship that decided the affair. But, in future,
could one continue to rely on such a convenient incompetence from the enemy's
commanders? Such a prodigality with the lives of decorated, irreplaceable
veteran troops and leaders was it prudent?
MELEGNANO
In the annals of the French army, the battle of Melegnano is often remembered
for a signal example of operational uncoordination between the 1st Corps of
Marshal Baraguay d'Hilliers and the 2nd Corps of Mac-Mahon. The bungled attempt
to trap an isolated Austrian rearguard cost the French army an altogether
disproportionate number of soldiers. This last fact is all the more significant
from our perspective for, as we will see, these heavy losses are once again the
direct consequence of poor tactics, tactics fundamentally unadapted to the
improvements in small arms during and since the Crimean War.
Perhaps stung by his limited contribution to the battle of Magenta, Baraguay
d'Hilliers did not wait for Mac-Mahon's 2nd Corps to close up on Melegnano; he
launches the Zouave and the 33rd line infantry regiment directly into the
assault with minimal artillery support. The Austrians, however, with the
brigades Roden and Boer of the 8th Corps of General Benedek, are heavily
entrenched and barricaded in the houses, walls, and cellars of the little
medieval town. Here again, the French "discover" that rifled arms, are
redoubtable from near or from afar:
"...death hidden inside houses, waiting in ambush behind windows or crenellated
walls, hitting our soldiers with a sure and invisible hand...a lush vegetation
covers marvelously the soldiers in ambush; vines are enlaced about trees which
stretch forth their heavily leaved branches. These places hide numerous
defenders." [19]
The small caliber high velocity Lorenz rifles of the Austrians shoot very well;
now it is the turn of the French officers to discover as their Russian
colleagues had in the Crimea the deadliness of aimed fire. A Colonel Ivoy,
impressed by the intensity of the Austrian fire and suggesting that the 2nd
Corps be awaited for a coordinated assault, received from d'Hilliers the
lapidary retort: "Would you be afraid?" [20]
Ivoy is shortly thereafter shot dead with a bullet through the head—another
bullet killing his horse at the same instant; thirty more officers from his
regiment, the 1st Zouaves also becoming casualties. Captain Beaufort of the
10th Chasseurs, hit twice, is also killed. The intensity and accuracy of the
small-arms fire is deadlier than that encountered in the Crimea, where the
Russians did not dispose of many, nor of the best rifles (mainly clumsy,
slow-shooting used-up two-groove rifles of the Brunswick type in vogue in the
1840s). Charles Duban, veteran of the trenches of Sevastopol whom the bullets
of the Russian Plastoun had more than once buzzed, was awed by the redoubling
of firepower he witnessed at Melegnano, which already became quite dangerous at
700 and 800 meters. A bullet from a Lorenz rifle went right through both his
legs.[21]
Vicious house-to-house fighting would continue in Melegnano and the Castel di
Melegnano until nightfall. The 2nd Corps was not to arrive in time, and the
remaining Austrian forces were able to withdraw in good order. French losses
are not commensurate with the gain of a city already conceded by the enemy: a
total of 948 hors de combat, of whom 71 officers.
SOLFERINO
The battle of Solferino, culminating engagement of the Italian Campaign of 1859
would recapitulate on a grand scale the tactical and operational
inconsistencies already observed during the struggles at Magenta and
Melegnano—blind offensive rushes with the bayonet in vulnerable masses,
insufficient concentration and maneuver of artillery fire, lethal visibility of
officers. The attacks are too often uncoordinated, escaping the control of the
officers; everything is staked on the offensive, on the sheer bravery of the
elite battalions. Reserves are rushed into attack piecemeal and almost
immediately: this was a soldier's battle—like Alma and Inkerman—won by the
rankers, not the generals. The massive frontal attacks in line of column seen
on the left wing and center of the Allies took no account of the massive
progress that had been made in small arms since the end of the Napoleonic wars,
nearly fifty years earlier. The new capacities offered by the Lahitte rifled
cannon are once again, unexploited.
In fact, we see at Solferino the same tactical forms and methods of an era that
ended at Waterloo, in 1815, perpetuated, in spite of the fact that weapons had
undergone a quantum leap in performance. And even if this were not enough, we
see the tactical forms and methods of the Napoleonic era applied without a
shadow of the dexterity and understanding that animated their employment by the
better generals of the old school.
This massive clash, just as the battle of the Alma, demonstrates a fundamental
lack of reconnaissance and organization. To begin with, the French Emperor and
the coterie of officers that passed for his staff, did not in the least expect
a clash at this place and time. They believed that Franz-Josef had already
retreated farther to the north-east, beyond the Mincio to prepare a defense of
Venetia. In fact, Franz-Josef had begun such a withdrawal, only to reverse it
suddenly, and re-occupy the heights of Solferino—a familiar location to the
Austrians who often went on maneuvers in the area.
The forces on either side are quite large: six army corps totaling some 150,000
men and 300 cannon for the Franco-Sardinians, and seven army corps with 160,000
men and 800 cannon for the Austrians. The battle front, running in an arc from
the Lago de Garda to Mantua, is saturated. In the early hours of the 24th of
June 1859, the armies of Franz-Josef, Napoleon III, and Victor-Emmanuel collide
head-on. The offensive fixation, accompanied with operational impatience was to
produce a blind shock of the bloodiest kind; while their superior officers were
to rivalize in inertia and lack of imagination, the soldiers of all sides were
to rivalize in bravery. The old, antiquated tactical habits of mass and shock,
of exposure in the teeth of the powerful new rifle-entrenchment duality, are
once again the order of the day:
"The column, moving straight ahead towards its objective, was greeted by
gunfire and case shot so deadly coming from the cemetery, the castle, the walls
of exterior gardens and houses, that it was soon forced to withdraw with heavy
losses, without having been able to seriously approach La Rocca." [22]
Confronted with the pitiless precision of Austrian shooters sheltered in
echeloned entrenchments, the French skirmishers and elite troops do their best
to minimize their vulnerability:
"The skirmishers advanced methodically; they tried, each time they could, to
shelter behind a tree in order to aim with care and fire their shots; then they
continued forwards quickly before starting over again farther away." [23]
But the central sector around the height of Solferino offers little shelter to
the men of the 45th line infantry regiment and their advance resembles more and
more a frantic rush:
"...stopping one instant was impossible without being killed to the last man.
We ran on with bayonet fixed..." [24]
The 45th's rush quickly becomes entangled in the Austrian defenses, thankfully,
the Tirailleurs Algeriens come up in support. A sub-lieutenant of the 45th
recognizes an old comrade from the Crimea:
"But you, get down from your horse, you're there like a target and you can see
people are firing at each other at twenty paces.
---Oh! Me, he said smilingly, I haven't a care; I'm used to bullets." [25]
The officer of the Tirailleurs Algeriens falls almost immediately after these
words, shot down by an Austrian bullet. Many such brave men made the fatal
discovery of the Austrian fire that day; one, a Colonel in the 8th regiment of
line infantry of Niel's 4th Corps, one of the most heavily engaged at
Solferino:
"He was one of those audacious types, their morale immersed in the waters of
the Styx, and who are precious for war, as long as they are not given duty
which require a cool head and thoughtfulness." [26]
As at Montebello, Magenta, and Melegnano, few French officers who have the
opportunity of seeing the Austrian Jägers at work escape unhurt from
the experience:
"I had hardly had time to cover some one hundred and fifty to two hundred
meters across the brambleberries, the corn fields with deep furrows, that I
caught sight of some men lying on their stomachs on the roof of some kind of
porch...instantly bullets are whizzing thickly past my ears." [27]
Staff officer Bourelly is shot in the leg, his horse killed; even wounded, the
shots of the Austrian Scharfschütze pursue him for another five
minutes. The next morning, his commander, Marshal Canrobert greets him with
facetiousness: "Well, Bourelly, it was stinging mighty hard Tuesday eh?"
Materially subjected to the superiority of the Austrian armament, it is through
courage and sacrifice of the masses sent to assault the entrenchments of the
enemy that one hopes to effect the decisive breakthrough. But the dense and
vulnerable columns of the French totter and stagger under the defender's
crossfire. Indeed, even the Prussian general staff history of the campaign
concedes that the Austrian defensive complex around Solferino was "almost
impregnable", noting the "extraordinary strength of the position."
[28] It is only after reinforcements arrive and drive against the flanks the
Solferino heights, that the 45th line regiment and the Tirailleurs Algériens,
attacking the weakening enemy position from three sides and supported by
artillery can in turn reap the benefits of the firepower/shelter duality,
ravaging the Austrians, submerged, running short of ammunition, and abandoning
their trenches:
"They were brave men in whose ranks we rained death in shooting from shelter as
much as was possible...they did not flinch."
So triumphed the soldiers of the 1st and 2nd Corps, and the Corps of the Garde
Impériale, whose voltigeurs executed the decisive movement. On the right,
Niel's 4th Corps, supported by forty artillery pieces of generals Auger and
Soleil, with great difficulty withstood the repeated attacks with which the
Austrians hoped to gain the day. Finally, the Austrians, with their center
broken at Solferino and their left unable to overcome Niel, are compelled to
order a general withdrawal. The Allies have won the battle of Solferino.
But it is a pyrrhic victory. The allied armies are exhausted: over
eighteen-thousand hors de combat , of whom 720 officers and 12,018
soldiers from the French army. As at Magenta, the potential of the new rifled
artillery is imperfectly utilized: General of artillery Auger would pay for
this error with his life, mortally wounded by a six-pounder ball lodged in his
shoulder.[29] The consequences of this poor utilization of the artillery,
however, did not restrict himself to the unhappy general as the dispatch of the
Morning Post's correspondent, dated 24 June 1859 makes clear:
"The artillery of the Guard has lost a very great part of its officers, as they
were engaged at half a musket shot, and the Tyrolean sharpshooters who are
exceedingly able, shot down the officers at their guns. For this reason the
losses have been very severe."
Aside from the effects of the artillery, it is the rifled small arms that have
caused the most casualties; even when their bullets do not kill instantly, the
wounds inflicted are so serious that they most often turn out to be fatal: "The
impact of the cylindrical bullets makes the bones shatter in all directions, so
that the resulting wounds are always very grave; shell fragments and conical
bullets also produce extremely painful fractures and internal ravages that are
often terrible." [30] Austrian losses are also quite heavy; more than
nineteen thousand. When one considers that Canrobert's 3rd Corps only took a
quite limited part in the engagement, it becomes clear that total French
situate themselves above 16%, much higher again than the level seen at the
battles of the Alma, Inkerman, or Tchernaïa.
Another troubling aspect of the battle—similar to, but on a larger scale, the
lack of coordination previously seen between french units at Melegnano—is the
poor teamwork of the Canrobert's 3rd Corps with Niel's. In Niel's view,
Canrobert, absorbed by a non-existent threat to his flank, was remiss in
lending assistance to his neighbor's hard-pressed troops. The bitterness that
developed from this episode grew to such proportions that it was only the
Emperor's direct intervention that prevented a duel between his two overwrought
marshalls. Whatever the merit of the conflicting claims of Niel and Canrobert,
the incident did not bode well for operational harmony in the french army—a
presage that was to be fully borne out in 1870…
While the bulletins of the Franco-Sardinian allies are quick to trumpet the
glorious victory, not all in the army are blinded by this "brilliant" victory
or the miraculous tactic of the furia francese . Such defects in
execution and elementary military duties like reconnaissance finally make
themselves obvious to the French high command, as evidenced by the general
order issued on 6 July 1859 which attempts to articulate the basic tactical
method:
"As soon as the enemy appears, artillery fire will be commenced. The lines of
infantry will be deployed when terrain permits, alternately in deployed
battalions and in battalions formed in double columns. Useless musketry will be
avoided, and while battalions make a fire of files, the other will beat the
charge and engage the enemy with the bayonet."
The dispositions taken by the Division Renault on the morrow of the general
order, during the final hours of the war preceding the armistice of July 8,
reflect the high command's desire to systematize tactics.[31] The infantry is
deployed in two principal lines, the first of deployed battalions, the second
line standing 200 to 300 meters behind the first in battalion double columns.
An avant-garde made up of two battalions occupies farms located some 500 meters
in front of the first line, and the reserves are placed 300 to 400 meters
behind the second line. The artillery is situated in the battalion intervals.
These dispositions offer nothing revolutionary, which makes it all the more
surprising and revealing that it was still judged important enough to make
their specification a general order; manifestly the debilitating cumulative
effect of the bloody victories achieved via the attacks à la Zouave required
an urgent revision, especially after Solferino, where the elite light infantry
units—the real spearhead of the French army—had been seriously weakened. It is
curious, though, that the high command chose the end of a campaign to cross the
Ts, as a contemporary staff officer notes dryly on the general order of July
7th: "This is the only time, we believe, that one has specified, during this
whole campaign, precise tactical rules for combat." [32]
The Emperor while reviewing his troops appears worried and preoccupied. This
concern is unsurprising: with many of his best leaders killed or wounded and
the looming menace of a German intervention on the Rhine, Napoleon III has
reason to be worried. Without the elite battalions, the Guard, the veterans of
Sevastopol with their rifled carabines and muskets firing effective munitions,
the rump of the army, poorly armed with the "bayonet handle" converted muskets
and firing the unstable M1857 bullet, is in many ways the concretization of
what Ardant du Picq contemptuously referred to a "flock of sheep":
"The old soldiers and non-commissioned officers of the Imperial Guard, those of
the Algerian regiments and of the Lyons garrison trained at the Marshal de
Castellane's school gave the army a certain solidity; it presented nevertheless
different types of weakness and laxity stemming from diverse causes.
Unfortunately for the Army and for France, military science was less and less
cultivated. Not only were Napoleonic tactics no longer current, but no tactical
doctrine held sway...no practical day-to-day doctrine of this type existed."
[33]
This hidden perspective provides another level of understanding to the
suddenness of the peace of Villafranca putting an end to the hostilities of
1859. Under the pressure of combat the fissures and fractures that underlie the
gold-leaf grandeur of the Second Empire's military basis are opening up: a
weakness all at once material, operational, conceptual, political, and moral.
THE LESSONS OF 1859: An Avalanche of Bayonets?
What lessons would French commanders retain from the Italian Campaign of 1859?
For too many, it was merely only a ringing confirmation of the mythic furia
francese, the all-out tactical offensive as the ultimate military panacea:
"As for the French tactic, it is characterized with all its brilliant
attributes of élan, aggression, rapidity, concentration, etc., from the
beginning of the engagement of Montebello, and conserves its maximal initial
intensity up until the end of the campaign." [34]
The author pursues his reflections:
"Let us note only the immense superiority of the offensive on the defensive. At
Montebello, 16.000 Austrians attack 4.000 French. General Forey goes on the
offensive, and the Austrian general beats a retreat, convinced he is dealing
with 40,000. On the Naviglio, the 1st division of the Guard, defeated six
times, holds out against forces four times as strong. At Solferino, the first
Austrian advance (Wimpffen), of six divisions, retreats faced by a French Corps
of only three divisions, and thinks its confronted by superior forces.
The offensive always, the offensive anyway! The offensive must all the more be
identified with us, as our future adversaries will not confine themselves to a
simple defense, as in the Campaign of Italy." [35]
Baron Bazancourt, official chronicler of the war in the Crimea, sees similarly
in the Italian battles the brilliant reaffirmation of French military
superiority, a superiority more moral and mystical rather than physical and
material:
"You ask why the French army has this indomitable élan, this energy that
nothing can stop; you ask why our battalions throw themselves under fire, cross
all obstacles, and go find, unto the very muzzles of the cannons, death or
victory; you ask why nothing resists them, not walls of stone, nor walls of
iron.—The secret, here you are; it is that from the sub-lieutenant to the
Marshal, all audaciously bet their lives without looking on the terrible green
felt of the field of battle.
Thoughtless courage often, foolish sometimes, heroic always, which makes the
indomitable force of the masses." [36]
Doubtless, there were some brilliant actions where the French bayonet struck
some hard blows. At Montebello, a sergeant from the 98th regiment and a
voltigeur from the 74th had bayonetted and killed Austrian officers—one of them
on horseback. But for some to extrapolate from such heroic—and
singular---actions a new tactic was rash in the extreme.
A widely circulated account of the campaign published serially in France under
the auspices of the leading establishment journal Le Siècle,
translates the same complacent sentiment of french military self-satisfaction,
a sentiment which light-heartedly elevated the débrouillardise of its
troopers to the status of a science:
"The conditions of war have changed. Previously leaders prepared their
battle-plans, they sought and evaded one another and then, after protracted
groping, they ended up encountering one another at a well-chosen
location…Now…there no longer are any strategic schemes which can hold up
against the unknown. Precision arms prevent combat according to set formulas.
One charges with the bayonet after an initial fire, and the cannon are taken
before they can reload…One need only be impetuous: it is a question of
temperament and individual bravery." [37]
For many both in France and abroad, the Italian Campaign of 1859 seemed to even
more gild the laurels of French arms. Indeed, the echoes of France's lightning
victories often resounded even more outside of the Second Empire—conveniently
far from the more sobering reality of the events. Even among the Prussians, the
deeds of the French in Lombardy captured the attention and, among a few,
caused, or rather, reanimated—for the Dreyse needle-gun and its associated fire
tactics had never received unanimous support—doubts on the validity of Prussian
tactical concepts which in 1859, before the wars against Denmark and Austria
remained firmly in the domain of untested theory.
In the aftermath of the war, a Major Otto publishes a book on the Campaign of
1859, making use of the opportunity to engage a polemical discussion of the
Dreyse needle-gun, as well as the on the "weakness" of the Prussian infantry
company. The Prussian general staff even goes so far as to dispatch a certain
Oberleutnant Ollech to study more closely the French tactics. The Oberleutnant
is evidently rapidly converted to the new creed of all-out bayonet shock
tactics by his gallic hosts and wastes little time in evangelizing the French
ideas upon his return to Prussia. According to Ollech, Prussia absolutely needs
to abandon its Frederician model of fire-based tactics if it wishes to avoid
defeat in case of war.
But wiser, and much grayer, heads than Ollech's are not so easily seduced by
the chimerical French successes in Lombardy. In a letter dated January 5, 1860,
addressed to King Wilhelm I, Moltke reiterates his full and unchanged
confidence in Prussian fire tactics:
"It is unwise to combat the French on the field of their virtuosity. Because
they always attack on the field of battle, we do not need to do so. We can
oppose to them a contrary method. We have better small arms and shoot better."
[38]
The Prussian therefore, would not hurriedly imitate, as the Austrians, the
French tactical "system", much less appropriate the entire French military
panoply, as the North and the South were to do during the American Civil War.
Moltke is correct: behind the brilliant appearance of the French successes of
1859 lurks an altogether different truth. We have already alluded to the
fundamental weakness of Austria's strategic posture, as well as the traditional
ethnic tensions her army suffered from, but the Italian Campaign of 1859
revealed other vulnerabilities and specific conditions which rendered the
victory of Napoleon III more than suspect and, with it, any conclusion of
French military competence, let alone superiority, very dangerous.
Still, the clairvoyance of the old Prussian general was atypical. The high
spirits of all-out bayonet shock tactics seemed to have captivated the
zeitgeist; its apostles and glorifiers were no longer limited to salon
strategists or tactical pundits, even some participants of the campaign seemed
swept up by this patriotic offensive fever:
"But we remembered the terrible weapon of the French infantry, we lunged
forward heads bent in the streets of the village, in the middle of the gardens,
the orchards; we took the houses by assault, and the bayonet did its
destructive handiwork. As at Constantine, as at the Mamelon Vert, as at
Malakoff, the officers marched foremost, sword on high, shouting the French
word, the word of battles: Forwards! and all resistance was broken." [39]
Despite all this, the success of French tactics—quite nuanced as we have
seen—were tributary to very specific conditions and circumstances. To distill
from this specificity summary and general conclusions, or comfort oneself in a
superb complacence, was as easy as it was dangerous. Even so normally
insightful and skeptical an observer as Engels fell victim to this offensive
effervescence:
"Luckily the Italian War has shown all who could see, that the fire of modern
weapons are, for a battalion that attacks with combative spirit, not so
dangerous, and Prince Friedrich Karl of Prussia has taken the opportunity to
remind his colleagues that a passive defense, even if one is well armed, always
leads with certainty to defeat. The direction of military opinion has shifted.
One begins again to recognize that people, not small arms must win the battles,
and if these new weapons will really bring about a change in tactics, so it
will (where terrain permits) bring back a reinforced use of deployed lines,
even to an attack in Line which, although Frederick the Great won most of his
battles with it, has mostly been forgotten by the Prussian infantry." [40]
We see here again that Engels, as he had in his analysis of the battle of the
Alma, situates the tendency of tactical change in the disposition of
infantry—the deployed line in this case, as well as its rapid tempo of action, à
la Zouave . This amounts to an inversion of cause and effect, for in
fact, it is only the use of rifled arms which simultaneously gives deployed
troops a new level of offensive power, and renders, by the same token,
deployment, dispersal, the rushing tempo, desirable, even obligatory, in view
of the enemy's possession of the same deadly type of weapon: the rifle.
Nevertheless, some observers—albeit in the retrospective light of the Seven
Week's War-- recognized the dangerous illusion of an all-powerful offensive and
the effects it had had during the Campaign of 1859:
"No, it is uncontestable that bayonet charges, which even in olden days did not
always succeed, will hardly ever succeed again, even if directed against troops
of very common solidity. Thus, even with a less-than perfect armament the
Austrians hurt us badly. Their skirmishers killed and wounded our officers and,
with the war continuing, the diminution in the numbers of officers left in the
line of battle could have had a serious effect on our successes. The 85th, for
example, which had had many officers out of action at Magenta fought poorly at
Solferino...we have seen the damage that good shots can inflict today on the
enemy in firing exclusively on officers." [41]
A remarkable anonymous monograph published in 1868 as the french army painfully
and belatedly groped towards a new tactic, sheds interesting light on the
supposedly miraculous use of the bayonet in 1859 in Italy and the Crimea. The
author's professional credentials are notable: he saw action at the Alma,
Inkerman, the Tchernaïa, and all the assault on Sevastopol, and served with the
3rd regiment of zouaves at Palestro, the 3rd regiment of grenadiers at Magenta,
and with Trochu's division at Solferino. The distillation made of these
experiences with respect to the arme blanche is an unequivocal one: "Well!
I don't believe in bayonet combat, in the mass use of edged weapons ."
[42]
As we have seen, for many the victories of 1859 are taken as proof that élan,
the offensive incarnated by the shock power of the bayonet still retained its
validity on the battlefield, and that the new firepower brought by rifled small
arms was overstated, if not even entirely exaggerated. But such conclusions
were at least partially erroneous even for Italy in 1859 and, even more
important, completely unrepresentative of the general tendency of future
tactical development.
To begin with, we can point out that the Austrian small arms, while certainly
superior in most respects to those of the French, left much to be desired. In
1859 the Austrian Lorenz rifle, when compared to the rifles equipping the
British, Swiss, and even the Russians, is not among the best performing. This
mediocre performance on the part of the Austrian weapon was due to a number of
factors: design, construction, and employment. Perhaps the single greatest
problem that beset the Lorenz rifle was its ammunition: based on the
compression principle, its bullets were not able to consistently provide
optimum sealing between the interior of the barrel and the projectile. Compared
to the hollow "Minié" bullets used by almost all other major military forces of
this era which operated by the principle of dilation, the Lorenz projectiles
could not deliver a wide enough margin of expansion, so that while in tests the
rigorously built and controlled prototype and pattern arms of the Lorenz model
initially performed extremely well hitting a head-sized target 100% of the time
at 225 meters, the more carelessly made mass-produced Lorenz rifle made only
7-8% on the same target at 187 meters.
The Lorenz rifle model, approved in 1854 was Austria's first all-new infantry
firearm in decades. Quite advanced in conception for its time, Austria's
relatively undeveloped industry was evidently unable to meet the standard of
precision the new small arms required. The quantities and urgency of production
exceeding the capacity of the Austrian government's facilities, a great
proportion of the contract was entrusted to a variety of private manufacturers.
Officially sanctioned caliber variations went upward of the nominal caliber of
13.9 millimeters to 14.25 millimeters (which, taking account of the depth of
the grooves brought maximal caliber to 14.55 millimeters). The compression
bullet was unable to bridge an interior gap that potentially reached .65
millimeters—quite a tiny space to the eye, but in terms of interior ballistics,
a chasm. Early in 1863, the Austrian army introduced a new, more orthodox
bullet working on the same "Minié" principle as the ammunition utilized by the
other great powers.
Aside from the great problem of the loosely-fitting compression bullet was
another: insufficient twist. As a matter of fact, there were three types of
Lorenz rifle: the first and most common with a twist of rifling of less than 1
in two meters and lacking long-range sights destined to the infantrymen in the
first two ranks, the second with a tighter twist to its rifling as well as
movable long-range sights for the men in the third rank detailed for
skirmishing duties, and, finally, the third model equipped with a special
Thouvenin pattern tige or "pillar-breech" as well as a finer movable sight
intended for Austria's elite Jäger units. Thus, about two-thirds of Austrian
infantry were equipped with Lorenz rifles of insufficient twist and rudimentary
sights that made fire beyond point-blank range a matter of guesswork.
Beyond and, ultimately more important than these intricate technical questions
relating to the Lorenz rifle, there was that of its use. To begin with, the
introduction of rifles as the weapon for all Austrian infantry is extremely
recent, even ongoing, when erupts the Italian Campaign of 1859. Prior to the
Lorenz only the Jäger and, during the mid-1840s, a certain proportion of
third-rank men were equipped with rifles, albeit of a much different, inferior
type.
Thus, in 1859 rifled arms are new to the average Austrian recruit—an
unfamiliarity which is hardly conducive to competent use. Yet even more
important than the basic unfamiliarity of the weapon for a great part of the
KuK infantry, is the problem of the attitudes, the stance of Austrian cadres to
this arm so different to the musket which had for so long armed the Habsburg
soldiers.
Anton von Mollinary, already a general in the Austrian army in this period (and
a bridging engineer, hence a member of a "scientific" arm) gives us some
interesting perspectives on the status of precision fire and firing practice in
general in the KuK army:
"Even the increasing importance of small arms was only starting to be
recognized by a few, the majority still valued the bayonet over the bullet;
nobody thought about a rational utilization of both. Target shooting was
considered—apart from the Jäger troops—as a burdensome required side-chore,
which one strove to rid oneself of as quickly as possible. Attempts to increase
confidence in the only recently introduced rifles as in general an interest in
shooting, through joint officer shoots, had only meager success. The gentlemen
regarded their time at the firing-range mainly as an opportunity for
socializing." [43]
Aside from the neglect in practice of fire practice for Austrian line infantry
in the years leading to 1859, we can note that the regulations themselves did
little to favorise the effective use of the tactical firepower potential of new
rifled arms. Both the Exerzierreglement für die Linien und Grenzinfanterie 1851
nor the Manövrir Reglement 1853—the last official guidelines brought
out prior to the Italian Campaign of 1859—antedated the distribution of the
Lorenz as base armament for the infantry as a whole; clearly the dispositions
of these regulations, dating from a period when only sixteen men per company
were armed with rifles (the Delvigne-pattern Kammerbüchsen M1842 and
M1848). Unsurprising then, to discover that three-quarters of the Reglements
are taken up with the modalities of the close-order columnar formation drill,
rather the than fire-oriented line and skirmish tactics so much more
appropriate to combat with a precision long-range weapon like the Lorenz
rifle.[44] For all these reasons, it is a fair assessment to conclude that the
Austrian army in 1859, while possessing the material basis necessary, was
still, in practical and conceptual terms, quite far removed from achieving a
real modernization of its line infantry fire potential.[45]
Just how superior was the Lorenz rifle to French small arms in 1859?
Potentially, very superior. France's small arms in 1859 mainly consisted of a
hodge-podge of older weapons converted to rifling: the "transformed" fusils of
1822 and 1842, and later variants such as the models of 1853 and 1857, which
differed only in non-essential details. These French shoulder arms had a large
nominal caliber of 17.78 and 18.03 millimeters and, at this stage in service,
were firing the M1857 triangular hollow based bullet. This projectile had been
introduced in order to bring back the individual soldier's ammunition supply to
sixty rounds—the heavy cylindro-conical rounds used by France's first effective
rifled arms weighed so much that the ammunition allowance had normally been
reduced to 48 rounds. The M1857 bullet, a third lighter with 32 grammes in
comparison to the earlier Tamisier and Minié bullets redressed this balance,
but was unfortunately less ballistically sound than its predecessors: it was
simply too light in proportion to its caliber. Ultimately, the M1857 bullet,
was only a stop-gap; slightly more effective than either the round ball or the
Nessler bullet fired by smoothbore arms, it was nevertheless far inferior not
only to the projectiles fired by contemporary small caliber military shoulder
arms like the Prussian Dreyse, the British Enfield, the Austrian Lorenz, but
even to the much older bullets of the Thouvenin system dating to 1844 which
equipped the Chasseurs and Zouaves...
The performance of the M1857 bullet is disappointing. At one hundred meters'
range, only 44% of more than fourteen thousand bullets fired during major
trials hit a target 50 centimeters wide. Against larger targets this score
could reach 70% at the same range. Nevertheless, because of the poor ballistic
qualities the projectile presented, in addition to the absence of any real
aiming device equipping the mass of French rifle-muskets, these already
mediocre percentages rapidly deteriorate as distance increases: at 200 meters
only 30% of fired rounds hit a target of one meter's breadth and, beyond
point-blank, it only gets worse; at 400 meters only 7.6% hit a target two
meters wide and, finally, at 600 meters, only 9.5% hit a target four meters
wide.
Unquestionably therefore, the Lorenz rifle would have been markedly superior to
the various converted rifle-muskets firing the unstable M1857 triangular-hollow
bullet equipping the bulk of Napoleon III's infantry. However, the same cannot
be said of the weapons equipping France's elite troops, the Guards, Chasseurs
and Zouave battalions. The M1846 and M1853 carbines equipping the Chasseurs and
Zouaves, and firing the much heavier (48 as opposed to 31 grammes) Minié bullet
of these weapons, are significantly better weapons than the converted
rifle-muskets hurriedly cobbled together on Napoleon III's order in 1857.[46]
The same is also true of the "Fusil de la Garde" equipping the Imperial Guard
and firing a lighter version of the Minié bullet. Equipped with adjustable
sights, these hard-kicking weapons possess great stopping power and are capable
of inflicting death at ranges beyond 800 meters with their heavy projectiles.
Due to higher velocity, the Lorenz would still have been superior to the
large-bore rifles of the French elite troops, but its margin of superiority
over them would not have been as significant as its advantage over the
converted muskets.[47]
While the very severe losses—especially in officers—that the Austrian rifles,
even with the manifold limitations that plagued their use, inflicted are
undeniable, the bumbling and irresolution that characterized Austrian
operational and strategic conduct as well as the inflexibility of Austrian
tactics were the truly decisive factors in deciding the war's issue. Such poor
management largely annulled Austria's considerable advantage in the small arms
area: the KuK soldiers had the right tools but were unable to use them.
Paradoxically, the French tactical "system" of the all-out bayonet rush
succeeded. Remaining static and maneuvering at the normal tempo in face of the
precision, range, and power of the Austrian Lorenz rifle without being able to
reply effectively given the pitiable state of French infantry armament would
have occasioned considerable losses.
By literally overrunning Austrian positions one hoped to cross the dangerous
zone more rapidly and subsequently engage hand-to-hand combat where the
precision and range of the Lorenz would no longer apply, and where French élan
and experience would carry the day. While the Austrians habitually maneuvered
at the Ordinairschritt of 95 paces a minute or the Doublirrschritt
of 120 paces a minute, the French Chasseurs and Zouaves utilized the pas de
course and the pas gymnastique (a more cadenced and regular version of
the former) which reached from 180 up to 250 paces a minute. This meant that a
battalion of Zouaves could in theory cover 500 meters—a reasonable battle range
for the Lorenz rifle as well as the average clear line of sight the Lombard
countryside afforded—in three to four minutes, rather than the eight minutes at
the pas ordinaire. Halving the time under fire by doubling the speed of
maneuver was a potentially attractive tactical device; against a favored
Austrian infantry formation like the Divisionsmasse , a close-order
two company front battalion formation, a pas de course approach enabled an
approaching French unit to forego some 2000 additional bullets, of which a good
number would certainly have done damage. Of course, under the circumstances of
such a charge, there could be no question of preserving any real order; as
first-hand accounts and iconographic evidence show, these "Zouave" attacks are
formless mobs bearing little resemblance to the traditional column and line
formations:
"These first regiments like the 23rd, the 45th, the 90th, etc., which arrived
at a run to reinforce the grenadiers {of the Imperial Guard] had no artillery
and could not rivalize against the Austrians by gunfire...so they charged them
at a run with the bayonet. Hardly one-hundred to two-hundred meters distant
from the enemy our soldiers heard the commands of the Austrian officers quite
well; seeing themselves targeted, they threw themselves flat on their stomachs
: two seconds later, brrr, a hail of grape and bullets cut down the laggards!
The gale passing, the French rose and ran another thirty to forty meters and
then lay down again. In this way, they were able to come to grips with the
enemy..." [48]
Everything was staked on the moral ascendancy and the sheer guts of the
soldiers, non-commissioned officers and officers, veterans of the hard schools
of Algeria and the Crimea. And, in many cases, the bet was won: Austrian
troops, inexperienced, tired, hungry, ill-led, or disaffected, broke under the
savage assault of the French. But, just as often, the same Austrians, sheltered
in houses or trenches and firing at rest, made Napoleon III's troops pay a
high, too high a cost, for the furia francese .
More important for Napoleon III's strategic goals—aware of British, and German
hostility to the Italian adventure—was to arrive at a quick decision so as to
minimize diplomatic as well as economic costs. That limited objective was
achieved: in 1859, in a campaign lasting only six weeks, the French army is
victorious.
Yet that same victory—as nuanced as it was—would inhibit a true critical
post-mortem of French weaknesses both in armament and tactics. With a
confrontation against a new adversary of an altogether different quality
becoming more and more likely, a fatal complacence holds sway in the French
army: experiment, development, and renewal of armament as well as tactics enter
a phase of virtual hibernation.
It would await—too long—a startling jolt from across the Rhine that a new
impulse towards a renewal of French armament and tactics begins...
Footnotes
[1]. Historique du Service de l'Artillerie, Paris, 1858, p. 535.
[2]. Apart from a certain proportion of Grenzer and other second-line troops
armed either with the «Konsol» smoothbore percussion musket, or the
Delvigne-type «Kammerbüchse » M1842 et M1848, the bulk of the Austrian
infantry were armed with the model 1854 Lorenz rifle.
[3]. Mollinary, A. Von, Quarante-Six Ans dans l'Armée Austro-Hongroise
, Paris, 1913, p. 111.
[4]. Julius von Wickede, Vergleichende Charakteristik der k.k.
österreichischen, preussischen, englischen und französischen Landarmee
. Stuttgart, 1856, p.23.
[5]. To ensure Russia's neutrality, if not her cooperation, Napoleon III had
sent his cousin, the Prince Napoleon, to confer with the Czar, Alexander II
[6]. Bazancourt, Baron de, La Campagne d'Italie de 1859 , Paris, 1859,
t. I, p, 75
[7]. Even strategically, French doctrine (if such a term may even be applied)
was impregnated with a Napoleonic model, and it is no coincidence that Napoleon
III, as he prepared for hostilities, turned to Thiers and Jomini, two of his
uncle's most prominent exegetes, for inspiration.
[8]. Bourelly, général, Souvenirs de la Campagne de 1859 en Italie ,
Paris, 1885, p. 43
[9]. Laure, Colonel A., La Guerre , Paris, 1858, p. 40, and p.
295—significantly dedicated to the Emperor)
[10]. Lacapelle, captain A., Cours de Tir à l'Usage des Officiers de
l'Infanterie , manuscript, 1863-1867, p. 188.
[11]. Historical Section of the Prussian General Staff, La Campagne d'Italie en
1859 , Berlin, 1862, p.79.
[12]. Anonymous, Vieux Souvenirs: la Campagne d'Italie de 1859 ,
Paris, 1863, p. 107-108.
[13]. Ardant Du Picq, p. 372-373.
[14]. Anonymous, Vieux Souvenirs: la Campagne d'Italie de 1859 , op.
cit., p. 110.
[15]. Ardant Du Picq, p. 372-373.
[16]. Lebrun, general, Souvenirs des Guerres de Crimée et d'Italie ,
Paris, 1889, p. 247.
[17]. Lebrun, op. cit., p. 248.
[18]. Anonymous, Vieux Souvenirs: la Campagne d'Italie de 1859 , op.
cit., p. 119.
[19]. S.H.A.T., carton 1M 844-847, Chatelain, commandant, "Études Historiques
et Militaires sur la Guerre d'Italie en 1859", février 1862, p.182-183.
[20]. Bourgerie, Raymond, Magenta et Solférino , Paris, 1993. p.92.
[21]. Duban, colonel Charles, Souvenirs Militaires 1848-1887 ,
Paris, 1896, p.166-167
[22]. Anonymous, La Guerre d'Italie de 1859 , Paris, 1861, p. 267-268.
[23]. Anonymous, Vieux Souvenirs la Campagne d ‘Italie de 1859 Racontée par un
Sous Lieutenant de l'Époque , Paris, 1873, p. 219.
[24]. Ibid p. 235.
[25]. Ibid p. 241.
[26]. Ibid p. 215.
[27]. Bourelly, général, Souvenirs de la Campagne de 1859 en Italie ,
Paris, 1885, p.137.
[28]. Division Historique de l'État-Major de la Prusse, La Campagne d'Italie en
1859 , Berlin, 1862, p.172.
[29]. Dunant, Henri, La Bataille de Solferino ; Auger was mortally
wounded by a six-pounder canonball, fired by an artillery piece with not even a
third the range of a Lahitte rifled four-pounder
[30]. Dunant, Henri, La Bataille de Solferino.
[31]. Bourelly, general, Souvenirs de la Campagne de 1859 en Italie ,
Paris, 1885, p. 172-173.
[32]. Bourelly, op. cit., p. 173.
[33]. Ibid, pp. 177-178.
[34]. Anonymous, La Guerre d'Italie de 1859 , Paris, 1861, p. 337.
[35]. Anonymous, La Guerre d'Italie de 1859 , Paris, 1861, p. 337-338.
[36]. Bazancourt, Baron de, Campagne d'Italie de 1859 , Paris, 1859,
V.I, p. 340.
[37]. « L'Echo de la Guerre », quoted by Arnaud, René, La Deuxième République
et le Second Empire , Paris, 1929, p. 155.
[38]. Moltke, H. von, Moltkes Militärische Korrespondenz , Berlin,
1903, t. IV, p. 456-457, "Bemerkungen vom 5 Januar zu eimem Bericht des
Oberstleutnant Ollech über die Französische Armee."
[39]. Blanchard, Amédée, Montebello, Magenta, Marignan , Paris, 1859,
p. 109.
[40]. Engels, Friedrich, "The History of the Rifle", dans The Volunteer
Journal, for Lancashire and Cheshire , paru octobre-janvier 1860-1861.
[41]. Lacapelle, captain A., manuscript, Travaux sur le Tir et les Armes à Feu
Portatives , 1868, p. 168.
[42]. Anonymous, La Tactique de l'Avenir , Paris, 1868, p. 41.
[43]. von Mollinary, Antonn Freiherr, Sechsundvierzig Jahre im
österreich-ungarisches Heere , Zurich, 1905, t. 2, p. 7.
[44]. Wagner, Walter, Von Austerlitz bis Könniggrätz: Österreichische
Kampftaktik im Spiegel der Reglements 1805-1864 , Osnabrück , 1978, p.
111.
[45]. Indeed, it is one of the many ironies of history that the Austrians,
chastised by the French in 1859, drew the wrong conclusions from their defeat,
embraced the French shock tactics, and so sowed the seeds of the catastrophic
reverses in 1866, at the hands of the Prussians.
[46]. See the author's Les Guerres Franco-Prussiennes de 1859 et 1866 for
more discussion of these weapons and their relative capacities.
[47]. In the aftermath of the Campaign of 1859, there was some debate over the
relative merits of the large versus the small bore rifles in the French army;
some maintained that the large caliber bullets of the older French guns were
far more damaging than those of the Lorenz, citing the example of French
officers wounded at Montebello at the campaign's outset and healing quickly
from their small-caliber wounds, returning to fight again at Solferino.
[48]. Bonnefoy, Marc, Souvenirs d'un Simple Soldat en Campagne 1859 ,
Paris, no date, p. 124.
- - -
Copyright © 2005 Dr. Patrick Marder
Written by Dr. Patrick Marder. If you have questions or comments on this
article, please contact Dr. Patrick Marder at:
guerre1859@yahoo.com.
About the Author:
Patrick Marder was born in London. After undergraduate study at the University
of California at Berkeley and at Cambridge, he received degrees from the
Sorbonne in Paris, and from the University of Poitiers prior to receiving his
doctorate from the University of Strasburg. Marder's field of work is 19th and
20th century history and his research interests include the interaction of
"intersecting forces and spheres'': how the interaction of economic forces,
social groups, government, technology, and mentalities affects policy and
shapes events.
Published online: 12/10/2005.
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