Wargaming: Nineteenth Century Europe, 1815–1878

Introduction

This book follows on from my earlier work on Napoleonic Wargaming; the period which it covers should not in any way be seen as an afterthought. For the nineteenth century was even more significant than the Napoleonic age: the French Emperor’s epoch may have been spectacular, but Napoleon’s political project ended in complete failure. The nineteenth century was very different: its politics saw the shaping of modern Europe with the creation of the new nation states of Italy and Germany; its industrial revolution led in turn to a military revolution, with the developments of railways and sophisticated breechloading weaponry helping foster the growth of large, technologically advanced armies. All these developments happened between 1815 and 1878; this is the first wargames book entirely devoted to exploring this decisive epoch.

The work begins with a chapter exploring all the significant military and political developments of the period. I then provide a chapter explaining the parameters governing my rules, and the principles behind them. This should be a vital part of any set of wargames rules, since it allows all wargamers to understand what motivated the designer. The rules themselves come next; they are intentionally simple, yet can be relied upon to deliver historically viable outcomes–an approach which is intended to maximise enjoyment whilst enhancing understanding.

The book then proceeds along a different path to my previous offerings, by providing five different types of scenario for the wargamer to enjoy. The first four of these–pitched battle, meeting engagement, rearguard action, and flank attack–provide noteworthy generic types of encounter, all of which are designed to deliver challenges for the wargamer. They are also intended to be physically manageable, taking place as they do on areas of 120cm (4’) × 90cm (3’); most living room tables are at least of this size. The fifth scenario is a minigame; this is a pitched battle fought over an area of 60cm (2’) × 60cm (2’): it is intended for wargamers with extremely restricted playing areas, or very small armies. I have provided twenty-eight army lists for the period, covering all the most significant forces: players should easily be able to find a favourite army to play any scenario.

I have also included details of nine historical battles to be fought as wargames, with dedicated army lists and special rules for each encounter. These are again intended to be fought over small areas; seven are designed for tables of 120cm × 90cm, and two for areas of just 60cm × 60cm. These allow the wargamer to change the course of history within the four walls of his or her own home–a seductive prospect for all players to savour.

As with my previous books, I have included Appendices containing supporting material. I begin with a Bibliography, which adds brief comments to each listed book, thereby explaining the content of each work and giving potential readers an idea of its likely utility. The sections on figure sizes (with a rough price guide) and useful addresses will be of use to all wargamers, but are especially directed at beginners–who may not be aware which products are available, and which may be most suitable.

Wargames set in nineteenth-century Europe allow players to decide the destiny of an entire continent. They can fight to realise the dreams of nationhood and liberty; or they may prefer defending order and tradition from the horrors of demagogic disorder and the mass hysteria of nationalism. The stakes could not be higher–are you ready for the challenge?

Chapter 1

Nineteenth-Century Warfare

KEY EVENTS

TURNING THE CLOCK BACK

Radicalism was a dirty word in 1815. The French Revolutionary principles of liberty, equality and international brotherhood were supposed to portend an epoch of reason, enlightenment and peace: they produced instead an era of dictatorship, hysteria and bloodshed. It is scarcely surprising that Europe heaved a collective sigh of relief when Napoleon I was finally defeated at Waterloo; or that the principles he claimed to espouse found themselves utterly discredited.

In accordance with these sentiments, the peace settlement agreed at Vienna in 1815 took on a distinctly reactionary hue. Its leading author, the Austrian Chancellor (Prime Minister) Prince Klemens von Metternich, aimed to recreate the old European order of the eighteenth century. His guiding principle lay in maintaining the balance of power. This meant a restoration of the power and privileges of the old European monarchies, which explained why the Bourbons returned to govern France; it also demanded that no single power was in a position to dominate its neighbours. Accordingly, Europe was carved up in the interests of international order, and was moreover done so successfully: there was no conflict between the major European powers until the Crimean War.

Power politics of this kind necessarily meant a repudiation of such revolutionary principles as liberalism and nationalism. Absolute monarchies such as Russia, Prussia, the (Austrian) Hapsburg Empire and the restored French Bourbon régime inevitably had little time for any liberal challenge to despotic rule; even the dangerously radical (to European eyes) British constitutional monarchy only allowed a tiny minority of highly influential people to vote in parliamentary elections. As for nationalism, Metternich saw this as an even greater threat to order. This was because national sentiment bore little relation to the boundaries agreed at Vienna: for example, the Hapsburg Empire was a multinational entity that would be torn apart if its constituent peoples enjoyed autonomy; and the assorted small principalities that encompassed areas inhabited by Germans and Italians would lose their reason to exist if nationalistic sentiments were ever allowed to hold sway. Moreover, the creation of two large national entities in the place of several smaller ones would inevitably undermine the balance of power so delicately contrived at the Congress of Vienna.

It was particularly fitting that an Austrian politician played such a leading role in determining the new order. For the Hapsburg Empire played a central role in every sense: geographically, it occupied the middle of Europe; and in political terms, it defined the principles of the Congress, being a governmental construct based upon dynastic tradition and historical accident, rather than upon ideological concepts like nationalism and liberalism. The Vienna settlement would stand or fall according to the fortunes of the Hapsburg Empire.

In essence, the Congress of Vienna stood for the eighteenth-century values of enlightened despotism. Metternich himself was not wholly opposed to all political reform (provided that any changes strengthened the existing order), and he disliked the revival of Catholic clerical conservatism after 1815 almost as much as he abhorred democratic sentiments. Accordingly, some changes to the Vienna system were tolerated at the margins. Thus it was that the Greek revolt against Ottoman Turkish rule was supported, since the new state became a part of the European rather than the Asiatic orbit; a constitutional monarchy was allowed to develop in France; and the sundering of Belgium from Dutch rule was tolerated on condition that the new state remained politically neutral. The key factor behind the Vienna settlement was always going to be international stability: crushing nationalistic and radical liberal agitation was its focus.

SMALL IS BEAUTIFUL

The political imperatives outlined above had a major effect upon military developments, in particular the size of military establishments. Large armies were regarded as an especially dangerous Napoleonic innovation, for example. These required mass mobilisations, which potentially entailed recruiting middle class officers of a liberal persuasion whose loyalty to the old order was far from assured. Large forces were also in a position to invade potentially weaker neighbours, which would serve to undermine Metternich’s carefully wrought balance of power.

These rather apocalyptic prospects were averted by the revival of small, professional armies on the eighteenth-century pattern. These could be officered by the nobility, whose loyalty to their king was assured; as a result, the army could be relied upon to suppress any revolutionary uprising with uncompromising brutality. Moreover, small armies were not in a position to launch large scale invasions of major powers; expeditions to restore or support an embattled neighbouring monarchy represented the principal variety of foreign military adventure.

The practical results of all this took the form of a bastardised Napoleonic approach; the erstwhile Emperor’s strategic and tactical maxims were adopted, but the mass armies of the Napoleonic Wars were eschewed. This synthesis of Enlightenment and Napoleonic principles was to find its theorist in Antoine Henri Jomini, a Swiss officer who spent much of the Napoleonic Wars serving in the French army, only to change sides and join the Russians in 1813. His Summary of the Art of War (1830) proved highly influential, advocating as it did the desirability of limited rather than total warfare:

Without being a utopian philanthropist or a professional soldier, a person may desire that wars of extermination may be banished from the code of nations . . . I acknowledge that my prejudices are in favour of the good old times when the French and English Guards courteously invited each other to fire first–as at Fontenoy (1745)–preferring them to the frightful epoch when priests, women and children throughout Spain plotted the murder of isolated soldiers (1808–1814).

Antoine Henri Jomini (1830) ‘Summary of the Art of War’ in

Roots of Strategy Book 2, Stackpole Books, 1987, p. 446.

It was fitting that Jomini’s preference for moderation found its expression in his enthusiasm for the sort of intricate strategic manoeuvre that was such a feature of eighteenth-century warfare. Accordingly, Jomini placed great stress upon occupying strategic points, thereby putting the enemy at a severe disadvantage. His book goes into great detail about exactly how this desirable end can be achieved, but it does express the overall aim in a single maxim:

To throw by strategic movements the mass of the army, successively, upon the decisive points of a theatre of war, and also upon the communications of an enemy as much as possible without compromising one’s own.

Antoine Henri Jomini (1830) ‘Summary of the Art of War’ in

Roots of Strategy Book 2, Stackpole Books, 1987, p. 461.

Jomini’s strategical preferences may have been for manoeuvre on the eighteenth-century pattern; his tactical programme did by contrast owe everything to Napoleon, especially with respect to infantry. For the eighteenth century saw its foot soldiers deployed in long lines with a depth of two or three ranks (usually the latter). These could deliver a great volume of fire, since every man could shoot his musket, but were doomed to marching very slowly, given the problems of maintaining alignment when minor obstacles constantly had to be traversed by part of the formation. The Napoleonic Wars saw a very different technique come to the fore. All armies used line formation in defence, where maximum firepower was more important than rapid movement; but attacking infantry often adopted a columnar approach. Here, the foot soldiers were deployed in deeper (anything from six to twenty-four ranks) but narrower formations. These could move far more rapidly than lines, since they could march around obstacles rather than have to force their way through them.

The use of infantry columns made rapid assaults more feasible. Their attack would be assisted by an artillery bombardment intended to weaken the defenders; and their approach march preceded by light infantry skirmishers in open order, which would indulge in sniping at the enemy. This fire would have little material effect, thanks to the weaknesses of the notoriously inaccurate musket, which only started to inflict significant damage at a range of about 50 yards. However, the combination of artillery and skirmishers could weaken morale, so that the approach of a homicidally inclined enemy column would cause the defenders to flee. If however they stood their ground, the attackers would lose their ardour and either run away themselves, or deploy into line formation to indulge in a musketry duel with the defenders. The ultimate victor would be the army with the greatest morale–which could of course be greatly assisted by such factors as numerical superiority, or deployment behind cover.

Cavalry played a vital support role both in attack and defence. It would deploy in successive lines (three waves was typical) with sufficient intervals between each to prevent any catastrophic collisions. The chief value of the horse lay in its mobility: attacking units could charge a wavering enemy, forcing it to run away; they could launch a mass assault upon a retreating army, turning a defeat into a rout. Cavalry also had a vital role in defence: it could move rapidly to a point where the enemy threatened to break through, and launch a charge in order to win time for other reinforcements to retrieve the situation; or it could counter attack enemy troops whose assault had been halted by friendly musketry, thereby turning the tables on the foe. It must however be stressed that cavalry was chiefly a supporting weapon: horses simply could not be forced to charge an unbroken enemy. A steady body of infantry in close order line or column formation combined as it was with the effect of musketry, would quell any cavalry charge upon its frontal face. Steady foot soldiers were only really vulnerable to charges upon their flanks–an unfortunate possibility which could always be thwarted by the infantry forming a square, a formation which by definition could never be outflanked. Nor would cavalry charge its enemy counterparts; provided that both sides were in good order, they would shy away from each other before contact.

Cavalry was therefore a limited weapon. It could nevertheless have a devastating effect when unleashed upon a wavering foe: for the latter would flee before contact, resulting in terrible slaughter as the cavalry charged home. The role of horsemen on the battlefield was summed up by Jomini:

Whatever may be its importance in the ensemble of the operations of war, cavalry can never defend a position without the support of infantry. Its chief duty is to open the way for gaining a victory, or to render it complete by carrying off prisoners and trophies, pursuing the enemy, rapidly succouring a threatened point, overthrowing disordered infantry, covering retreats of infantry and artillery. An army deficient in cavalry rarely obtains a great victory, and finds its retreats extremely difficult.

Antoine Henri Jomini (1830) ‘Summary of the Art of War’ in

Roots of Strategy, Book 2, Stackpole Books, 1987, p. 547.

Success on the post-Napoleonic battlefield required the imaginative use of infantry, cavalry, and artillery in combination. All this was possible with the small professional armies that were effectively mandated by the Congress of Vienna. However, political change and technical innovation were soon to change the military scene in a startling manner.

1848: THE FAILURE OF LIBERALISM

Metternichian conservation may have been popular with the aristocratic ruling élites; it was loathed