'The Art of War of Revolutionary France, 1789-1802' (Greenhill Books, London, 1998, as a companion volume to 'The Viking Art of War'.) This book looks at the way French commanders in the 1790s tried to base their methods on the classical practice of the Seven Years War, but found that without sound money, sound logistics or trained soldiers, they were forced to cut quite a few corners. They could not fight in open terrain, and they had to live by a cruel system of ever-expanding pillage and conscription. There was therefore a degeneration in the art of war, rather than a 'Military Revolution', and most of the battles ended in either indecisive draws or ignominious routs. Yet through sheer persistence and the disunity of her opponents France did nevertheless manage to win most of her campaigns by the end of 1794, to become 'the most powerful state the world had ever seen'. That was before either the army had been reformed or General Bonaparte had risen to prominence. When that officer did come to rule the roost in the 1800s he still tried to use the methods of the Old Regime - and by that time with the great advantages that the soldiers were veterans and the army had been reorganised. But with no reform in the economy or the logistics, he was doomed to remain imprisoned within the same constraints as the Revolution, and disaster was ultimately unavoidable. |
Pictured above: The mill at Valmy, the centre of the French position in the tactically drawn, but strategically decisive, battle of 1792. This mill is a recent reconstruction, built in the wrong place. The original was pulled down during the battle, in order to protect nearby troops from splinters struck off it by incoming Prussian cannon balls. |
'French Artillery 1800-1815' (Almark, London 1976, long out of print: ISBN 0 85524 257 0). A short guide, colourfully illustrated by Emir Bukhari. It traces the weapons used, the organisation of batteries, and particularly the new tactics of massing guns and making 'artillery charges', which emerged during the Revolution and Empire. This book was one of three (together with Nigel de Lee's 'French Lancers' and the late John Pimlott's 'British Light Cavalry') in a promising series on tactics which was, alas, terminated early in 1977 (It was also my only book in which my name was given as 'Patrick' rather than 'Paddy'). |
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    My findings on the British 'Thin Red Line' in the Peninsula were first printed in 1981 in 'Forward Into Battle' , but they were re-cast with new material in 'Wellington-Commander: the Iron Duke's Generalship' (edited by Paddy Griffith; published by Antony Bird and the Victoria & Albert Museum, 1985: ISBN 0 907319 08 4). This is a collection of essays written by seven leading historians (including Michael Glover, John Terraine, Graeme Rimer, David Howarth, John Keegan and Correlli Barnett), based on a conference which I had chaired at Apsley House, Wellington's London home (where he had installed the iron shutters against brickbats, from which his 'iron' nickname derived). It was the best book on Wellington of its decade, and John Keegan drew much material from it (sadly unacknowledged) for his 'Mask of Command'. Apart from my essay on tactics, I myself also contributed a biographical essay on the Duke, which I like to think began to strike away from the unquestioning hero-worship that many of his biographers seem to display. This trend has recently been extended by eg Robin Thomas (on 1793-5) and Peter Hofschroer (for Ligny & Waterloo 1815, and for the Duke's subsequent re-writings of his own history). |
    My biographical essay on Wellington was balanced by a chapter on 'King Nicolas' (ie Marshal Soult) which I contributed to 'Napoleon's Marshals' edited by David G Chandler (Macmillan Publishing Company, New York 1987: ISBN 0 02 905930 5). Soult was an exact contemporary of Wellington and held a scarcely less important position in his nation's military life. My contention is that he lost his early fearlessness and effectiveness in supervising front line tactics after he had been badly (I say traumatically) wounded at the siege of Genoa in 1800. In later battles (notably Albuera, 1811) he showed brilliance in inserting his men into action, but seemed to leave them directionless thereafter. This thesis has, however, been rejected in Sir Peter Hayman's 'Soult, Napoleon's Maligned Marshal'(Arms & Armour Press, London 1990: ISBN 0 85368 931 8), and I think it was my 'maligning' to which Sir Peter referred in his title!
'Military Thought in the French Army 1815-51' (Manchester University Press 1989, now out of print: ISBN 0 7190 2882 5). |
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    A key point which emerges from this study is the way that most of Napoleon's officers completely rejected the 'corrupt gigantism' of his mass warfare, and the cruelties of his aggressive pillage system. They wanted to revert to the regularity and professionalism of the Old Regime, with volunteer armies that were 'small but good'. For me at the start of my career as a military historian it was also particularly instructive to see how thrusting young officers sought promotion by mastering 'modern' doctrine and sciences (and pseudo-sciences) which they believed were closed to their stuffy and reactionary seniors. This was a pattern that I would later notice among some of my military contemporaries who plunged themselves into the 'manoeuvre warfare' movement of the 1980s.
'A History of the Peninsular War, Vol.IX, Modern Studies of the war in Spain and Portugal, 1808-1814 edited by Paddy Griffith (Greenhill Books, London 1999: ISBN 1 85367 348 X).     Oman's Peninsular War has for long been one of my favourite military books, and I was particularly proud to be allowed to conduct this modern survey and up-dating. |
'The Napoleon Options: Alternate decisions of the Napoleonic Wars' edited by Jonathan North (Greenhill Books, London 2000: ISBN 1 85367 3488 9).
    This amusing volume contains ten essays which outline pieces of 'alternate history' - ie might have beens and 'what ifs'. My own contribution, inspired by my researches for The Art of War of Revolutionary France describes the successful French invasion of Ireland, assuming they actually landed in Bantry Bay at Christmas 1796, under Hoche, rather than staying in their ships under Grouchy (which is what actually happened). Nor do I permit the battle of Cape St Vincent to take place, following the (premature!) death of Admiral Jervis. As a result of these two events the British were persuaded to make peace, and so the rest of the 'Napoleonic' wars never took place. A nice dream, eh?
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