First Reich E-Book

David Stone

• Herausgeber: Batsford
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Seitenzahl: 760

Beschreibung

Because it lasted only seven months, the Franco-Prussian War has sometimes been ignored by historians and yet it merits study for the fact that it was the first deployment of a ruthlessly efficient and superbly organised German Army, a phenomenon that was to be seen twice more in the next 75 years. Indeed, military professionals and history students have long sought a thorough account of this conflict for the very reasons of its significance in both military development and European evolution. The war machine of the expansive Prussians used organisational strength and modern techniques to prevail over the more antiquated French and yet the battles were keenly fought and brought awesome casualties. The lessons learned by both sides, and onlookers, had a mighty impact; the emergence of a dominant German land force, a German nation and a German Empire determined the course of European and world history for a century and beyond. The story of the war is told with vigour and accuracy and will be a significant contribution to military history and to our understanding of the development of Europe as we see it today.

Leseprobe

‘FIRST REICH’

‘FIRST REICH’

INSIDE THE GERMAN ARMY DURINGTHE WAR WITH FRANCE1870–71

DAVID STONE

CONTENTS

Author’s Note

Preface

1

TOWARDS THE ABYSS

July 1870

2

HERITAGE OF A WAR MACHINE

Prussia 1648–1866

3

ANATOMY OF A WAR MACHINE

Germany 1866–1870

4

FIRST BLOOD

Saarbrücken, Tuesday 2 August 1870

5

INVASION

Wissembourg, Fröschwiller–Wörth and Spicheren

6

THE INFERNO

Borny, Mars-La-Tour–Vionville and Gravelotte–St-Privat

7

THE CAULDRON

The Army of the Meuse and the Battle of Sedan

8

BESIEGED

The Investment and Fall of Strasbourg and Metz

9

THE WINTER WAR

September 1870 to February 1871

10

FOCUS OF CONFLICT

Paris: November 1870 to January 1871

11

VICTORY AND AFTERMATH

1871 and Beyond

POSTSCRIPT

The Bundeswehr and the New World Order

Bibliography and Principal Sources

Notes

APPENDIX 1

The German Army in 1870

APPENDIX 2

The French Army in 1870 and 1871

APPENDIX 3

Principal Weapons used during the Franco–German War

APPENDIX 4

The Franco–German War 1870–71: A Chronology

Index

AUTHOR’S NOTE

First Reich is first and foremost a military history rather than a political narrative, and the use in this particular context of the term ‘First Reich’ – with all that that description implies – rather than the more conventional ‘Second Reich’ to describe the period of German history from 1871 to 1918 is deliberate. This descriptive break with convention may well cause the purist historian or academic to raise an eyebrow or two. But history is about personal analysis, interpretation and perceptions as much as it is about accepted conventions, and it is undeniable that the momentous events of 1870 to 1871, together with Prussia’s defeat of Austria in 1866, culminated in the creation of the first truly German Empire: an empire and military superpower that assuredly deserved the accolade ‘First Reich’. This new empire was born on 18 January 1871, in the Hall of Mirrors at the Palace of Versailles, and was destined to change fundamentally the course of world history during the next seventy years; supported and underwritten by a remarkable military organisation that was then pre-eminent in Europe. Whether or not the reader subscribes to this hypothesis is a matter for the individual. But if First Reich provokes debate, and thereby stimulates a wider awareness, knowledge and understanding of this landmark conflict between the two great military powers of nineteenth-century Europe, then an author cannot reasonably hope for more.

Most of the eye-witness material contained in First Reich was drawn from My Experiences of the War Between France and Germany 1870–1871, the collected dispatches of Archibald Forbes, the ‘Special Correspondent’ of The Morning Advertiser and The Daily News. Forbes was attached to the headquarters of the German Second Army, and later to that of the Army of the Meuse. His dispatches were subsequently published in 1871 as a consolidated two-volume account of the war. Forbes’ comments, accounts and observations are quoted throughout First Reich and it should therefore generally be assumed that any quotation which is not referenced or attributed otherwise has been drawn from either Volume I or Volume II of his personal account of the war.

A number of German accounts of specific engagements and events have also been quoted from Germany’s Army & Navy of the 19th Century by Gustav Sigel and Major General von Specht. This book was originally published by The Werner Company, Chicago (1900) in a bilingual edition and subsequently re-published in English by Bracken Books, London (1989). The style and content of these English translations of the original nineteenth-century German text provide quite detailed and illuminating views of aspects of the war as seen and recorded by various German military historians and regimental war diarists at the time. They also complement and amplify some of Forbes’ accounts of the war, as well as providing descriptions of those actions and events at which Forbes was not present. Several of the extracts from Sigel and von Specht are reproduced at some length, and are in sufficient detail to enable a modern-day visitor to the battlefields to identify accurately from these contemporary accounts the scenes of conflict of 1870 and 1871.

Finally, it should be noted that First Reich deals primarily and in some detail with the German Army and the part that it played in the war of 1870–1871. Necessarily, therefore, the treatment of the opposing French forces is generally limited to the provision of that information which is considered essential to an understanding of the German military perspective and actions. Consequently, the relative lack of coverage of the wider French military and political aspects is entirely intentional, and reflects the specific aim and scope of First Reich as indicated by its sub-title: Inside the German Army During the War with France 1870–1871. However, for reference and comparison purposes, a general description of the organisation, terms of service, and equipment of the French regular, reserve and irregular armed forces of the French Second Empire and Third French Republic in 1870 and 1871 is provided as an appendix to the main text.

D.J.A.S.

PREFACE

It all began with a mischievously contrived misunderstanding and a flimsy piece of paper, the latter a telegraph message to be precise. That telegraph message – the so-called ‘Ems Telegram’ – proved to be a catalyst, which generated a well-directed wind that fanned the flames of French national pride and misplaced sensitivity to produce an inevitable clash of national aspirations between the two major powers of continental Europe. One of the soon-to-be protagonists was an ill-led, politically ailing and somewhat naïve France that was still striving to regain the international prestige and ‘la gloire’ of the first Napoleonic era. The other was the politically aware, thoroughly pragmatic and militarily modern Prussian state to its east. If the end of the Cold War in 1989 has indeed produced a ‘new world order’ at the end of the twentieth century then the Franco–Prussian War a century earlier was, in very many respects, the final act in the creation of another new world order in the closing years of the nineteenth century. Notwithstanding some of the military innovations of the American Civil War that had ended some five years earlier, the struggle between the French and German armies on the battlefields of eastern and central France in 1870 and early 1871 represented in strategic, tactical and technological terms, the first war of what might be termed the ‘modern military era’, which was to last until the advent of the nuclear age in 1945. This was the conflict that the wider world termed the Franco–Prussian War, but which was in truth the ‘Franco–German War’, and the first occasion on which the full might of the newly established German war machine was committed to combat.

By the end of six months’ fighting, on 23 January 1871, at least 150,000 French soldiers lay dead, with about the same number wounded. The Prussians and their allies had sustained losses of some 28,208 dead and 88,488 wounded. However, the conclusion of the formal period of fighting between Germany and France was not quite the end of the story for the French, and for the population of Paris in particular. By the time that peace had finally been restored within France in the spring of 1871 much of the capital was a smouldering ruin and France had endured its third revolution and civil war since 1789; but in this short period of conflict more Parisians died than had been killed during the whole of the first French Revolution, including the Reign of Terror. Indeed, some 20,000 French citizens – almost all in Paris – were killed in a final blood bath that set Frenchman against Frenchman during the final suppression by the French regular army of the Paris Commune: a revolutionary organisation of the people that was itself a child of the war. But it was born also of the humiliation of France by Prussia, and by Prussia’s allies of the North German Confederation and South Germany, through the terms of the treaty that ended the war in January 1871. So Germany’s responsibility for the events that succeeded the end of the formal hostilities extended somewhat beyond the time when the guns of its victorious armies finally fell silent in February 1871. Meanwhile, as a once great France sank into what many believed was a terminal decline, to the east of the Rhine an enormously powerful military-industrial confederation of Germanic states had emerged within Europe. This new German Empire – the ‘First Reich’ – was still led indisputably by Prussia: but in 1871 this was a re-invigorated Prussia, with imperial ambitions that were now global rather than merely European. And these ambitions were underwritten by a military machine that already believed itself to be invincible on land, and which now sought to achieve for Germany the same level of capability at sea.

The soldiers of France and Germany who met in battle in 1870 and 1871 found themselves engaged in the first such European conflict of the modern military era. This modern military confrontation was nevertheless a visually dramatic and spectacular campaign in the older traditions of nineteenth-century warfare. This was due to the massed formations of infantry and cavalry that were still deployed on the grand scale, and also to the colourful uniforms that continued to be worn by the soldiers of both sides, and by those of the French Army in particular. The Franco–German War, therefore, put an end to the era of ‘horse and musket’ warfare in Europe. But its superficial martial spectacle was more than balanced, offset and eventually modified by the lethality and scale of the destructive effect of the modern weapons that both the French and the Germans brought to bear as the conflict drew on.

The nature of the combat, the sheer power of the weapons used, and the numerous military and semi-military innovations and support facilities of all sorts that emerged during what was a relatively short war, together contributed to its fundamental importance in the annals of military history. And in very many ways the Franco–German War also embedded in the minds of the political leaders and of the officers and soldiers of both France and Germany the perceptions, prejudices and attitudes that influenced their respective approaches to each other well into the new century.

Indeed, it is now clear that the fateful events of 1870 and 1871 laid all too firm foundations for the infinitely bloodier and even more destructive conflict that surged across Europe and beyond from 1914. Then, at its end in 1918, the First World War itself created – through the harsh provisions of the Treaty of Versailles – many of the circumstances within the defeated Germany that subsequently enabled the rise of National Socialism in that country. And this in turn contributed directly to the outbreak of the Second World War. Therefore, the start-point for the cycle of political and military events that lasted for almost three-quarters of a century, and which ultimately determined the course of international events world-wide, was the war between France and Germany during the summer of 1870 and the bitterly cold winter that followed it.

But all that was for the future. By 19 July, in the Europe of 1870, French national pride and honour had allegedly been affronted, and a number of statesmen in France and Prussia both desired and actively sought to bring about war between the two countries. Ironically, these statesmen included neither King William I of Prussia nor Emperor Napoleon III of France, both of whom had counselled against the war. Nevertheless, both sides were confident of the rightness of their respective causes, and that theirs would be the side that would certainly achieve the final victory.

So it was that the politicians made patriotic speeches, the flags flew, the drums were beaten, the bugles were blown, and the sounds of marching men once again echoed along the dusty roads of continental Europe. Thus, with an awful inevitability and an almost vicarious enthusiasm, the scene was finally set for war between France and Germany in that hot and humid midsummer of 1870.

1

TOWARDS THE ABYSS

JULY 1870

When he boarded a cross-Channel steamer for the short journey to Ostend in mid-July 1870, Archibald Forbes, ‘Special Correspondent’ for The Morning Advertiser and later for The Daily News, can hardly have foreseen the extent and intensity of the war to which he had been sent as one of the relatively new, but ever increasing, number of ‘War Correspondents’. His was a profession that had assumed considerable stature since the work of William Howard Russell on behalf of The Times, ‘The Thunderer’, during the Crimean War in the mid-1850s. Predictably, Russell was also in Europe that summer of 1870 to report the impending Franco–German War, and was attached to the headquarters of the German Third Army. Indeed, with its appetite for accurate, informed and often sensational or genuinely controversial war news well and truly whetted by Russell’s dispatches on the sometimes glorious but consistently mismanaged Crimean débâcle, the British public now demanded such news coverage as a matter of course. However, the long delays involved with the transmission of Russell’s reports from the Crimea had perhaps conditioned the public to expect their war news to lack currency.

Apart from building several vessels in England for Confederate use as raiders against Federal merchant ships, Great Britain was not directly involved with the ‘War Between the States’, the American Civil War, which ended in 1865, but the huge volume of journalists’ reports of the great battles on land and sea that took place during the four years of fighting, were read avidly by the British population at large. So also was the plethora of views, critical commentaries and theories of the various generals involved, many of whom had identified very clearly the power of the Press to influence others and so to promote their personal military and political aspirations. The impact of such reporting in America had increased considerably through the use of the telegraph system, although the need for dispatches to cross the Atlantic still meant that the war news destined for Europe lacked immediacy, and its timeliness was probably broadly comparable with the dispatches that had emanated from Wellington’s headquarters in Spain during the Peninsular War from 1808 to 1814. So it is not surprising that a ‘thrill of excitement ran through Britain’ when, on 15 July 1870, France decided to declare war on its Prussian neighbour, as it was plain to see that a major conflict was about to take place on Great Britain’s doorstep.

The general desire to be informed about every detail of the coming war – and the more sensational the better! – was entirely understandable, and the owners and editors of the newspapers of the day, with their eyes ever focused on circulation, influence and profits, responded accordingly by engaging the services of many ‘special’ or ‘war’ correspondents to give their readership that which they desired. So it was that on a warm July night in 1870, as the storm clouds gathered over France, Prussia and the other German states, the 32-year-old journalist Archibald Forbes found himself en route to Ostend. From there he would travel southwards to Köln (Cologne) on his way to join the Royal Headquarters of Prince Frederick Charles1 of Prussia and the forces of the German Second Army that were already deploying to the east of Saarbrücken, on the Franco–German frontier.

In fact Forbes had become aware of the nature and potential scale of the coming conflict even before he left England. While in London preparing for his assignment, he had noted, when obtaining his travel visa for Germany, that ‘There was little need in these days of July to ask one’s way to the office of the North German Consul in the city’ as ‘The pavements were thronged by Germans’ and ‘at least three hundred Germans were in waiting for their passports when I procured my visa’. Although Forbes expressed the view that the crowds of would-be soldiers were all setting off for their homeland as volunteers for the coming war, many were doing so in order to fulfil their service commitment as reservists, having previously completed their mandatory period of service with the regular army.

Several of the Germans that Forbes encountered in London had been well established in full employment in England, but while most of those who had left jobs with private firms had apparently done so with the blessing of their employers and with the promise of re-employment on their return from the war, some British government employees in the public sector were not so well treated. For example, a police constable who had answered the call to arms of his native Germany had been summarily dismissed from the force on making his intentions known to his superiors, being denied both a testimonial and a final week’s wages!

These different reactions illustrate the different attitudes to the coming war in Great Britain. Whereas the British government attempted to maintain a degree of neutrality – certainly during the early months – a majority of the British population openly favoured the German cause; a view that was generally fostered and supported by the news media of the day. Unsurprisingly perhaps, these views were coloured by what was then relatively recent history. In mid-1870, just fifty-five years had passed since the final defeat of England’s traditional enemy on the field of Waterloo. That victory had ended almost four centuries of commercial, colonial, imperial and military rivalry between France and England. Also, the Victorian population of Great Britain was fiercely royalist, and so regarded with distinct reservations a republic that had sent its king and most of its aristocracy to die on the guillotine only seventy-seven years before. Consequently, for the ‘Englishman in the street’, the ‘République française’ had for very many years contrasted fairly unfavourably with the German states. And by 1870 all of these states were for all practical purposes headed by Prussia, England’s former loyal ally against Napoleon I; the loyal ally that had assured Wellington’s final victory at Waterloo. In light of all this, the British predilection for the Prussian cause was both understandable and entirely predictable.

Not surprisingly, due to the impending war, the several cross-Channel steam packets and other craft that plied their trade to and from Ostend in that early summer of 1870 did so without much of their usual tourist trade. However, this was more than compensated for by the considerable numbers of men returning to the Continent to fight, and Forbes observed with some feeling that ‘There was hardly standing room on their decks, thronged as they were by Germans crowding home to swell the great national army.’ Neither did many of these ships make their return trips lacking passengers, as numbers of other people were ‘hurrying to bring home [to England] children or relatives from school or residence in some German town – peacable enough still, but ere long, it might be, to be the scene of a battle and the victim of a hostile [French] occupation’.

This view of the possible course of the war was reinforced when Forbes arrived at Köln on 19 July and found that ‘A state of siege had been formally declared’ and that the garrison’s ‘working parties had already begun to fell the trees on the ramparts and to face up the scarps of the outlying forts’. Although these precautions ultimately proved unnecessary, they did illustrate the prudence of the German military in their desire to cater for all operational eventualities. These defensive preparations also conferred another moral or propaganda advantage on the Prussians, by putting in the minds of the German populace the idea that they were the potential victims of aggression, rather than the instigators of the coming conflict! From this perception flowed much of the patriotism, military justification and self-righteousness necessary to fuel and sustain the national will within Germany at the outset of the war. At the same time, the images of these preparations to counter a French invasion undoubtedly influenced in Germany’s favour the views and dispatches of the many foreign correspondents and military observers at the start of the war.

So how was it that France and Germany had arrived on the brink of the abyss in July 1870? The causes of the Franco–German War were complex and various, but the unlikely final catalyst for conflict was a dispute over the succession to the Spanish throne. That throne had fallen vacant on 18 September 1868, when Queen Isabella II was deposed by a military coup staged jointly by Spain’s army and navy. The former ruler had for many years been renowned throughout the Iberian Peninsula and beyond for her poor judgement and loose morals. Typically, one of her many favourites, Marfori, the son of an Italian pastry cook, was raised by her to be first a marquis, then a cabinet minister and finally to be the governor of Madrid. Following the coup, Isabella went into exile in France and the throne had remained vacant since then: clearly an unsatisfactory and de-stabilising state of affairs.

During the first week of July 1870, Leopold of Hohenzollern–Sigmaringen, a Roman Catholic who was related to the Prussian King, William I, was nominated for the vacant Spanish throne. This proposal was actively supported by Count Otto von Bismarck, the Minister-President of Prussia and Chancellor of the North German Confederation. Bismarck was an astute and able statesman, whose overriding aspiration was to achieve a united Germany, led by Prussia. But a militarily strong and politically stable France was a significant obstacle to this goal, and in the apparently unrelated situation that had arisen in Spain he judged that he had found the means by which he could turn his dream of a united Germany into reality.

France, already concerned by Prussia’s recent military successes against Denmark and Austria, was considerably alarmed by the prospect of a German candidate, a Hohenzollern, taking the Spanish crown, thereby placing a German ally on France’s south-western border. Accordingly, on 8 July, the French Ambassador, Benedetti, was dispatched to the health spa of Bad Ems, where King William was taking the waters that summer. His task was to demand of the Prussian monarch the withdrawal of the Hohenzollern candidate. In accordance with his government’s instructions, and those of the Foreign Secretary, the Duke de Gramont, in particular, Benedetti tried to force the Prussian King to promise that a Hohenzollern candidate for the Spanish throne would never again be proposed. De Gramont, although a former French ambassador in Vienna, was an unfortunate choice for such an important diplomatic post at that time, as he was a totally committed French imperialist and also violently anti-Prussian; even to the extent of actively encouraging a war between France and Prussia.

Benedetti, following his government’s direction, also required King William personally to instruct Leopold to renounce his acceptance of the Spanish crown. In fact, Leopold – never enthusiastic about the original proposal – relinquished the Hohenzollern claim to the Spanish throne on 12 July. And this might have ended the matter, as neither William nor the French Emperor, Napoleon III, wished personally to bring about even worse relations between their two nations. However, de Gramont was still determined on confrontation and the humiliation of Prussia, even if that meant war, and so played directly into Bismarck’s hands. Notwithstanding that the matter of the Spanish succession had been resolved entirely satisfactorily, when Amadeo, Duke of Aosta (a member of the Italian House of Savoy), finally accepted the Spanish crown, de Gramont now instructed Benedetti to secure from William a written apology for the ‘insult to France’ allegedly caused by the affair. He also demanded an undertaking that he would never in the future support a candidate for any foreign crown. He put this ultimatum to the King on 13 July and predictably, although dealt with courteously by the Prussian monarch, it was firmly rejected. Despite further attempts by Benedetti to lobby William, the King refused to grant him a further audience to discuss the issue and on 14 July Benedetti finally departed from Bad Ems.

King William explained the French demands and recounted the details of his meetings with Benedetti to Bismarck in a very comprehensive dispatch, the so-called ‘Ems Telegram’. Although this dispatch was innocuous in both content and intent, Bismarck immediately saw in it the potential to achieve his aim of bringing about war with France, and so achieve his ultimate objective of German unification. He conferred with General Helmuth von Moltke, the Chief of the General Staff, and Count Albrecht von Roon, the Minister of War. Then, without actually changing any of William’s original words, he adjusted and edited the text, and therefore the emphasis, of the Prussian King’s telegram from Bad Ems. The resultant text conveyed an impression that William had simply rejected out of hand the original French demand for the withdrawal of his support for any future claim by a Hohenzollern candidate, and that he had then refused to see Benedetti to discuss the matter further. The demands made by Benedetti after Leopold’s withdrawal and their linkage to William’s action had been conveniently lost in Bismarck’s re-interpretation of the text. Within an already over-sensitive and generally anti-Prussian France this was instantly perceived to be a snub to the French Ambassador and therefore a deliberate insult to France.

Bismarck released the edited version of the ‘Ems Telegram’ to the Norddeutscher Allgemeine Zeitung, and within a few hours a special edition of that newspaper was available on the streets of Berlin. Copies of the telegram were also circulated widely to the international diplomatic community through German embassies around the world, and to the Press, on 14 July. Coincidentally – but most significantly – this was Bastille Day in France! The effect was entirely predictable. Although the French Emperor, Napoleon III, had counselled against war with Prussia, the anti-Prussian feeling and war fever in France increased apace and was by now irresistible. Later that day the French Cabinet decided to go to war, and on 15 July the necessary war credits were voted by the Legislative Body, with an overwhelming majority in favour. On 15 July also, French troops were ordered to deploy to the Franco–German frontier. That night, the North German Confederation was ordered to set in train its full mobilisation on the following day, 16 July. On the 17th Napoleon finally declared war on Prussia and two days later, on 19 July 1870, the formal French declaration of war was received in Berlin from the French chargé d’affaires in the Prussian capital. Although ostensibly directed at Prussia, the French declaration of war was in practice a declaration of war against the whole of the North German Confederation, and just a day later, on 20 July, the South German states of Württemberg, Bavaria, Baden and Hesse–Darmstadt declared war on France.

So the die was finally cast, and at last the new and exhaustively prepared German war machine surged fully into action. As the end of July drew nearer, activity in the armies of the North German Confederation and their South German allies was intense. Having completed their mobilisation procedures, they carried out their initial operational deployments, and finally set about readying themselves for their committal to the battle that surely could not be more than a few weeks away.

2

HERITAGE OF A WAR MACHINE

PRUSSIA 1648–1866

Throughout history various nations and states have acquired a reputation for excellence in the art of war. In a number of cases this has translated into a deep-seated aspect of the national character. Witness the strength of the naval tradition in Great Britain: where the image of a seafaring nation and great maritime power has persisted as strongly as ever from the days of Henry VIII and Elizabeth I – with Drake, Raleigh and a certain amount of legalised piracy; through the days of Nelson and Trafalgar, to Queen Victoria and the age of Empire; and finally to the great sea battles of the First and Second World Wars. Irrespective of the actual size and combat power of the Royal Navy today and the fact that the British Army has probably taken the leading role on more operational commitments since the Second World War than its illustrious colleagues of the Senior Service, much of the history and national character of Britain derives from its island status, and consequent dependence upon the sea both for its livelihood and its defence. For centuries, true Britons have regarded their country’s ability to project maritime power across the world’s oceans as a key part of their national heritage. From this perception, quite rightly, has flowed the internationally acknowledged reputation of the Royal Navy for professional excellence, daring and initiative. And this perception translates into a simplistic, but none the less valid, image of the British as a nation of seafarers and sea warriors.

As with the British model, so it was with Germany – or perhaps more accurately, with Prussia. However, in Prussia’s case it was the army rather than the navy that gained prominence. Once again, geography and the previous history of the state were key factors in shaping the development of what came to be termed (albeit less accurately after 1871) ‘Prussian militarism’ in the three centuries from the end of the Thirty Years War in 1648 to the final defeat of the Wehrmacht in 1945. However, it was – and arguably still is – true that there is an element in the German national psyche that is militaristic. Of course this does not automatically imply an unthinking tendency to mindless aggression or barbarism, but it does reflect the traditional German character traits of order, honour, patriotism, resourcefulness and self-discipline. It also involves an overwhelming awareness of personal and national duty to the German state, to its king or emperor, and to the equivalent national leaders of Germany in later times. In simple terms, therefore, the German race or ethnic grouping has always tended to produce good soldiers because German society itself has for centuries exhibited many of the particular qualities that are usually found in the best soldiers of any nation. Of all the German states, it was in Prussia that the kings and military leaders drew on these inherent qualities to the full during the almost two hundred years from 1648, and so finally made the Prussian war machine pre-eminent among the armies of the German states. Finally, this evolutionary process culminated in the mobilisation and deployment of the armies of the North German Confederation, all of which were by then based on the Prussian model, against the French in 1870.

The German Army of 1870 was, therefore, a product of its heritage and recent history, and of the character of the German people. But it was in particular the result of the work, since the late 1850s, of four Prussians. These were the Commander-in-Chief of the Army, King William I, who succeeded to the Prussian throne in 1861 (but who had in reality ruled Prussia from 1858 as Regent in place of his mentally unstable brother, Frederick William IV); General Count Albrecht von Roon, the Minister of War from 1859; General Count Helmuth von Moltke, the Chief of the General Staff from 1858; and finally Count Otto von Bismarck, the Minister-President since 1862. That all of these men had come to positions of power and prominence at roughly the same time, all with broadly similar national and strategic aspirations, was both fortuitous and significant; first for Prussia and later for the whole of Germany. So also was their general concurrence on how these aspirations could be achieved; especially the vital need to create and maintain a large, well-trained and professional military organisation in Prussia, and subsequently in Germany. And they all came to their respective appointments with an awareness of what were, by the mid nineteenth century, a number of serious weaknesses in Prussia’s military organisation and capability.

Quite apart from its immediate military impact, the battle of Waterloo in 1815 was a watershed in European politics and also for the future military development of the armies of the continental powers. The final defeat of Napoleon I signalled peace in Europe after two decades of almost unbroken warfare; but also the beginning of an almost inevitable period of political complacency and costled minimalism for the armed forces of the former combatants. The Prussian Army was no exception to this, and the effectiveness of that same force which had completed Wellington’s victory in 1815 declined steadily in the years that followed, and so moved ever further away from the enviable military reputation that it had enjoyed in earlier times.

In the late seventeenth century, Frederick William the Great Elector had raised and trained the first Prussian national army, 26,850 strong. Then, between 1713 and 1740, Frederick William I, the ‘Soldier-King’, established a regular system of recruiting and liability for military service, together with a new army organisation. He also instilled the now legendary Prussian standards of order and discipline into an army that was, by 1740, about 82,000 strong; but of which 26,000 soldiers were not Prussian nationals. Next, Frederick II, to whom history has accorded the title ‘Frederick the Great’, committed the re-vamped Prussian Army to almost constant, but generally successful, combat over the next forty years. By his death in 1786 he had made Prussia the principal military power in continental Europe, with a standing army of more than 200,000 men, comprised of 153 battalions of foot soldiers and 273 squadrons of cavalry. However, these military successes and the extent of the territorial gains made also bred complacency. So it was that, although its size continued to increase throughout the eighteenth century (to more than 250,000 men by 1797), the professionalism and effectiveness of the Prussian Army declined steadily after 1786 during the period of political awareness and liberalism that characterised the close of the century. The extent of this decline became all too evident with the destruction of the Prussian Army by the French under Napoleon I, first at Jena and then at Auerstädt in 1806. The Convention of Paris that followed in 1808 effectively neutralised Prussia’s military capability and limited the size of its army to 42,000 men.

These catastrophic military defeats and their wider strategic consequences clearly indicated the need for radical reforms. Accordingly, the essential work to achieve this, some of which was already in hand,2 now proceeded apace. It was directed and led by Count August von Gneisenau and General Gerhard von Scharnhorst. In parallel with this work on military reforms, extensive social changes were also taking place in Prussia. There was a new emphasis on advancement in government service through merit rather than by birth or patronage, an end to the system of serfdom that still obtained in the country, and the introduction of a new national education system. Gneisenau and Scharnhorst very astutely managed not to break the terms of the Paris Convention, while in reality they increased the potential size and capability of the army to forty-four infantry battalions, seventy-six squadrons of cavalry and forty-five artillery companies.3

This they did this by introducing a system of conscription and training (the Krümper System), by which about 20,000 young men were called up and trained each year by the regular army cadre, but who were then discharged in sufficient time so that the obligatory 42,000 manpower ceiling was not breached. In reality this system meant that by 1813, once all these reserves had been recalled for war service, the Prussian Army would once more number 250,000 men. Finally, also in 1813, the Landwehr and the Landsturm were established as a source of reserves that included all able-bodied men between the ages of eighteen and forty-five. These reforms took effect just in time for Prussia to play its important part in the defeat of Napoleon I: first during the War of Liberation in 1814 and then, most significantly, during the Waterloo campaign of 1815 when four Prussian army corps, numbering a total of 117,000 men with 300 guns, were deployed in Belgium.

At the end of the Napoleonic Wars, in 1816, the Congress of Vienna disposed of the former Holy Roman Empire and established a German Confederation of thirty-five autonomous states and free cities. These were represented by a Diet of eleven members, who were appointed by the various state and town governments. The Diet sat at Frankfurt-am-Main and was presided over by Austria. Thus, in 1816 Prussia found itself to be one of the more influential states within the newly formed German Confederation, or ‘Bund’. Prussia was also one of the principal military contributors to the new federal army, together with the other two main states involved: Austria and Bavaria. The remainder of the Confederation’s lesser states, principalities, duchies and free cities all contributed various levels of military support to the federal army and the Confederation had the theoretical capability to generate a total force of about 550,000 men if so required.

The Prussian government of the day, ever conscious of the lessons of recent history, now resolved to maintain a military capability commensurate with the country’s newly regained status and territorial size within Europe, a capability that would also be broadly comparable to that of the other victors of 1814 and 1815. As with any nineteenth-century army, its overall strength and capability were based upon the size and quality of its manpower and training system, and through a law passed in 1814 Prussia established a system of universal conscription and refined the roles of the Landwehr and Landsturm. By the Prussian conscription law of 3 September 1814, at the beginning of their twentieth year all men had to serve for three years with the colours, followed by two with the reserve. At the age of twenty-five they moved to the first section of the Landwehr for seven years, and to the second section for a further seven years when aged thirty-three. Finally, at forty, individuals were transferred to the Landsturm (which also included all men aged seventeen to forty-nine who were exempted regular army or Landwehr service).

At the same time, an integrated command structure was established under a Minister of War and a General Staff system was introduced. In parallel with these command and control measures the army’s overall organisation and territorial affiliations were regularised, with the permanent basing of the army’s corps, its other major formations and its regiments throughout Prussian territory. From these affiliated areas they then routinely drew their recruits. The Landwehr units were integrated into the mobilisation plans of regular infantry brigades, and they also maintained a cadre element within those formations in peacetime. By 1830 all of these changes had been completed; which enabled Prussia to produce an army of 130,000 men that could be increased to about 260,000 by the addition of its reserves in time of war. The Prussian Army of 1830 included forty-four regiments of the guards, grenadiers and infantry and thirty-eight regiments of cavalry, while the Landwehr comprised a further forty infantry regiments and thirty-two cavalry regiments. This organisation, with suitable updating from time to time as necessary, should have achieved and maintained Prussian military effectiveness for the rest of the century.

However, the protracted period of peace in Europe after 1815 had increasingly allowed political complacency and military stagnation to set in, so that the original reforms completed in 1830 remained in place with little change or improvement for almost the next three decades. Also, despite the wider social changes in the country as a whole, the officer corps of the army again became almost exclusively the preserve of the Prussian nobility. Finally, notwithstanding the important policy changes and organisational reforms that had been achieved, there was still a continuing reluctance by the government to fund many of the more practical manpower and equipment needs of the military.

But in 1858 Prince William of Prussia assumed the position of Regent, and so in effect became both the executive ruler of Prussia and the Commander-in-Chief of its armed forces. This event, together with the coming to power of von Roon, von Moltke and von Bismarck all at about the same time, subsequently proved to be one of the defining moments of European history. It signalled the beginning of the next, and arguably most significant, resurgence of Prussian militarism. Within just thirteen years this first of all made Prussia the undisputed leader of a united Germany, then it enabled the creation of the German Empire, and finally it laid the foundations for the achievement, by the end of the century, of German military primacy within Europe. This strategic situation then continued (despite some set-backs due to internal economic and political difficulties after 1900) until the latter part of the First World War.

But it was to the German Army of 1870 that the journalist Archibald Forbes was assigned that July; to an army that was by then at the peak of its readiness for war. At the same time all the political and military strands so carefully woven by von Bismarck, von Roon and von Moltke had come together, almost exactly as they had planned. In history, there can have been few nations militarily so well prepared to meet their destiny as Germany was in the summer of 1870, as its war machine moved into top gear for the imminent war against France. So what had Prussia, and later Germany, done to achieve this situation of military pre-eminence during the years since William was first able to exert his direct influence over the country in 1858?

Von Roon had clearly identified the weaknesses in the Prussian Army that had manifested themselves during the years that followed the Congress of Vienna of 1816. Throughout that time the army’s manpower base had relied upon the old 1814 conscription law, which proved progressively less able to generate the necessary size and quality of forces in a time of crisis than Scharnhorst and Gneisenau had originally intended. The failings in the system were particularly evident during the part-mobilisation of the first section of the Landwehr in response to events in France, Belgium, Poland and in Germany itself during the ‘Year of Revolutions’ in 1848. On that occasion many of the Landwehr units called to the colours proved less than professional when they were, albeit often somewhat belatedly, formed up for duty. The 1814 law also failed to take account of the now much increased size of the Prussian population, and consequently of the considerable numbers of able-bodied men potentially available for military service, but who were not called forward due to the administrative and organisational shortfalls of the existing system of conscription.

Meanwhile, the size and quality of the Prussian regular army were also shown to be somewhat deficient when a federal German army 35,000 strong and commanded by the Prussian General von Prittwitz took the field against Denmark in March 1849 for the First Schleswig–Holstein War. Although the diplomatic issues involved were complex, in essence the two Schleswig–Holstein wars were over Denmark’s claim – and Prussia’s objection to that claim – to continued Danish control of the two duchies of Schleswig and Holstein. Schleswig was part-German and part-Danish speaking, while Holstein was German-speaking.

The German army for the campaign was made up of a Prussian division, a Saxon brigade, a Hanoverian brigade and three other composite federal formations, including 15,000 Schleswig–Holsteiners. Despite several German victories at the start of the war, the Danes finally defeated the federal forces near Fredericia. This defeat called seriously into question the quality of the German forces, Prussia included, and the efficiency of their mobilisation and conscription arrangements.

All this was undoubtedly still at the forefront of the mind of Prince William, himself a professional soldier, when he became Regent in 1858. Soon afterwards he directed General Albrecht von Roon to carry out a review of the current applicability of the 1814 mobilisation and conscription laws and of the effectiveness of the Landwehr, and to report the outcome of this study to him personally by memorandum. Not surprisingly, the resultant review was highly critical of the existing Prussian armed forces, but at the same time von Roon proposed a number of radical reforms that would resolve the existing deficiencies and simultaneously effect a complete updating of the whole Prussian military system.

The key proposals of von Roon’s plan focused upon the role and organisation of the Landwehr. This element of the army would no longer be required to provide formed Landwehr units to take the field alongside the regular units. Rather, it would henceforth provide both a second line reserve of reinforcements and a pool of reserve divisions. However, these new ‘Landwehr divisions’ and the units within them would in fact be based on a core of key personnel and cadres from the regular army. This meant that the very different individual qualities of the young regular soldier and those of the older, but usually more experienced, veteran would complement each other within Prussian regiments and units. Later, Archibald Forbes, when commenting upon the relationship between the Landwehr soldier and his regular counterpart, would observe that:

The war strength of a [Prussian] regiment is just double its peace strength, and the increment consists of the reserve. The medalled men of [the war against Austria in] 1866, and of the Schleswig–Holstein campaigns, called up from reserve, are welded into the same ranks with the young soldiers who are serving their first period of three years. Bayonet for bayonet, the old and the young soldiers balance each other, and the amalgamation is perfect between dash and steadiness – between whatever recklessness there may be in the bravery of youth, and the staid valour of maturer years.

In von Roon’s plan, the Landsturm would in the future include all able-bodied men, virtually without exception, who were liable for military service but who had not, for whatever reason, undergone full-time regular service in the army or navy. All these measures were intended to provide depth to the regular forces’ trained manpower base, and they were underwritten by an updated conscription law based on universal military service. Von Roon calculated that this would enable Prussia to field a trained army of about 500,000 men on mobilisation. His proposals called for a conscript’s service to start on 1 January of the year in which his twentieth birthday fell, and to last for seven years from the date of joining. However, only three of these years were to be served with the colours (except in the cavalry, when the term was to be for four years), the remainder being spent with the regular army reserve. After the seven years, at the age of twenty-seven, the fully trained soldier was transferred to the Landwehr for a further five years.

Predictably, Prince William welcomed and supported von Roon’s proposals enthusiastically, but they attracted strong opposition from the Prussian Assembly, both for constitutional and for budgetary reasons. Strong liberal opinions and opposition were voiced in the Assembly and these were even supported actively by the then Minister of War, von Bonin, which could have proved a significant obstacle to making any progress with the much-needed reforms. Fortuitously, however, in 1859 France and Austria went to war, which precipitated a Prussian mobilisation. The failings in the system, much magnified since 1849, were clear for all to see, and this enabled William to replace von Bonin by von Roon as Minister of War. Despite this, von Roon’s recommendations continued to be opposed by liberals within the Assembly, which flatly refused to sanction any of the necessary military expenditure. A virtual impasse persisted for three years, until 1862: the year after William finally succeeded to the Prussian throne. At that stage Count Otto von Bismarck, Prussia’s new Minister-President, took a decisive hand in the affair. He ruled that, irrespective of the views of the Assembly, it was the duty of the Crown to take any and all such action that the monarch deemed necessary for the welfare of the state and the effective conduct of all its business. That was the end of the matter and thereafter General von Roon’s recommendations were speedily implemented. A year later, in 1863, the Prussian Assembly was dissolved. In any event, the need for legal sanction by that legislative body had in reality proved to be somewhat academic, since the ever-pragmatic Prussian government had progressively implemented the army reforms since 1858, but without the approval of the Assembly. The long-running issue was finally resolved in 1867 when a retrospective bill was passed to legalise the earlier reorganisation of the Prussian armed forces, together with the new arrangements for conscription and terms of service.

The reorganisation delivered a rapid and dramatic expansion of the Prussian Army. It was carried out between 1860 and 1865 and laid much of the foundation of the Prussian military organisation that finally went to war against France in 1870. This expansion was achieved by a number of fundamental changes that went right to the heart of the Prussian regimental system and organisation. In accordance with von Roon’s original grand design for the Landwehr each regular infantry regiment was required to form the cadre element of a Landwehr regiment. These new ‘combined regiments’ initially bore the same numerical designations as those of the parent regiments from which their cadre element had been drawn, and so were very clearly a part of those regiments from the outset. However, by the end of 1860, these regiments, suitably stiffened by the regular cadres, were in fact accorded their own regimental numbers and identities. Thus thirty-six new regiments, including four guards regiments, were added to the Prussian Army’s order of battle. Next, the other existing reserve units were enhanced by the addition of third battalions to the guard reserve and line infantry reserve regiments; the latter of which were then re-designated as ‘fusilier’ regiments. In the Prussian cavalry, the number of Prussian cavalry units was increased by the simple expedient of all squadrons that were at that time detached from their parent units being reorganised and redesignated as new dragoon or lancer (or ‘Uhlan’)4 regiments. By this means ten new cavalry regiments were formed in relatively short order. Finally, the Prussian artillery was brigaded from 1864, with each brigade comprising two artillery regiments: one of field and horse artillery batteries and one of garrison artillery.

As implementation of von Roon’s plans moved ever closer to completion, von Bismarck was actively seeking a suitable war in which to validate the effectiveness of the reorganised Prussian Army. He also intended to assess its future potential as the principal tool by which he would achieve his foreign policy objectives, and ultimately effect German unification. An opportunity to test the war machine came in 1864, when the old dispute between Prussia and Denmark over Schleswig–Holstein surfaced again; fifteen years after the German federal forces’ ignominious defeat at the hands of the Danes at the end of the First Schleswig–Holstein War. From this new conflict was also born the chance, a couple of years later, for Prussia at last to assert its position as the foremost military power in Germany and to displace its former ally, Austria, from its position at the head of the German states.

This time, the issue of Schleswig–Holstein involved a problem over the Danish succession. It centred on the fact that Frederick VII of Denmark (who was also the Duke of Schleswig and of Holstein) had no male heir, and so his chosen successor (Prince Christian) could not, von Bismarck argued, legally continue to rule over the two duchies. Bismarck supported the claim of Prince Frederick of Augustenburg to the succession and enlisted Austria’s military support for Prussia’s candidate and cause. The war that ensued was relatively short. The Austro–Prussian forces were commanded by the Prussian Field Marshal von Wrangel (who, as a General, had successfully subdued the Danes in 1848) and the Austrian General Gablenz. Their army began the war on 2 February 1864, with a bombardment of Missunde. The strategically important Danish strongholds of Düppel and Alsen fell by the end of June, and King Christian concluded an armistice on 20 July. Interestingly, despite the considerable progress that had already been made with the reform of the Prussian Army, there was a consensus of opinion among foreign observers of the war that the soldiers of the Austrian contingent had actually performed somewhat better than their Prussian brothers-in-arms. This independent criticism was levelled at von Wrangel and the Prussian high command rather than at the tactical level, and clearly provided food for thought for von Roon and Bismarck. In particular it indicated the need for further work by von Moltke, the Chief of the Prussian General Staff, before the Prussian war machine was next committed to combat.

The political and territorial outcome of the war was settled on 30 October by the Treaty of Vienna, which was subsequently amended by a convention at Gastein in 1865. The main political outcome of the war was that Schleswig was henceforth to be governed by Prussia and Holstein by Austria; but this apparently equitable situation subsequently led to war between Prussia and Austria in 1866, which took Bismarck’s plans for German unification another step closer.

The causes of the confrontation between Austria and Prussia revolved about Prussia’s displeasure with the manner of Austria’s government of Holstein, and the continuing dispute over which duke should rightfully govern the two duchies. The situation was made more difficult by Prussia having withdrawn its former support for Frederick: who promptly sought, and was given, wholehearted support by Austria. Meanwhile, Prussian troops had ejected the Austrian forces from Holstein. The German Confederation assembled at Vienna where, on 14 June, Austria demanded that the federal army should be mobilised to move against Prussia. This event effectively signalled the end of the old German Confederation and of the Bund. Prussia came out of all this with little credit, and, while the causes of the Austro–Prussian War could stand considerable analysis and debate, it is probably true to say that the overriding cause of the war was the fact that Bismarck wished it to happen, and therefore made it so. Although any moral argument in favour of Prussia was generally indefensible, this clash of arms was all but inevitable if Prussia was to achieve its military and political destiny, and Bismarck had chosen the time and circumstances of this clash very well.

The war lasted just seven weeks, during which Prussia comprehensively demonstrated its military superiority over Austria and its allies of Saxony and Hanover. Prussia had learnt well from the war in 1864 and the effects of von Roon’s reforms were now plain to see. At the outset Prussia was able to deploy nine guard regiments and seventy-two line infantry regiments. These regiments comprised a total of two hundred and fifty-four battalions. All of the regular infantry were armed with the bolt-operated breech-loading Dreyse needle-gun, which had been introduced into universal Prussian service from the late 1840s. The rate of fire and accuracy of this ‘state of the art’ rifle proved decisive on the battlefields of 1866, where it easily outclassed the muzzle-loading weapons with which the Austrians were still equipped. The Prussian soldiers were able to fire at least six shots for every one fired by their Austrian opponents. However, as we shall see later, the technology of the needle-gun was soon to be overtaken by that of an even more advanced breech-loading rifle that had been under development in France since 1859: the Chassepot. There were eight guard cavalry regiments, eight regiments of cuirassiers, eight of dragoons, twelve of hussars and twelve of Uhlans. Thus the Prussian cavalry arm comprised no less than two hundred squadrons. In support were nine of the newly established two-regiment artillery brigades, with a total of 864 guns. Most of the artillery weapons had only been introduced into service in the early 1860s, and were predominantly the steel, breech-loading guns manufactured by Krupps of Essen. All of these were the most modern artillery pieces in any military service at the time, and all fired shells that were detonated by percussion fuses rather than by the older system of pre-set time fuses. Finally, the Prussian Army that confronted the Austrians in mid-1866 numbered 470,000 men, with the potential to draw from the Landwehr a further 130,000 reserves.

The Prussians won a series of minor victories before confronting and comprehensively destroying the Austrian forces at the major battle of Sadowa (or Königgrätz, as the battle was known to the Prussians) in Bohemia. This battle marked the end of Austria’s leadership of the Bund, which was then formally dissolved, together with the federal German army, at Augsburg on 24 August 1866. On the previous day, the peace of Prague had concluded the Austro–Prussian confrontation, with the Treaty of Berlin providing a measure of independence for the South German states – but only to the extent that Bismarck had always intended! Meanwhile, Prussia had annexed Hanover,5 Hesse–Cassel, Nassau, Frankfurt-am-Main and Schleswig–Holstein. These annexations of the north German states added 4,200,000 people to its population, with obvious implications for the future size of the armed forces.

CENTRAL EUROPE 1870, SHOWING STATES OF THE NORTH GERMAN CONFEDERATION

On 15 December 1866 Prussia convened a conference in Berlin, attended by the deputies of all the north German states (all those to the north of the River Main). This conference agreed the constitution for a new North German Confederation, headed de facto by Prussia, which assumed the federal presidency.

At last Bismarck’s plans were about to come to fruition. German unification was all but achieved. Austria had been effectively displaced from its historical position of primacy within Germany, and the Prussian Army had demonstrated its capability by a series of resounding victories, culminating with that at Sadowa. All that remained was to incorporate the military forces of the newly acquired states into a single North German Confederation fighting force, and to ensure that any remaining lessons from the conflicts against Denmark and Austria had been well and truly learned.

Clearly the war machine that Bismarck at last had at his disposal – but now a German rather than a Prussian war machine – was almost ready to embark upon its most important venture yet: nothing less than the military defeat and international humiliation of Prussia’s traditional enemy, France.

3

ANATOMY OF A WAR MACHINE

GERMANY 1866–1870

The defeat of Austria and the establishment of the North German Confederation gave the Prussian leadership a little less than four years in which to complete their military plans and reorganisation. The annexed states provided a huge influx of new forces, and their incorporation into the new North German Confederation’s army involved further extensive changes for the existing Prussian Army as well. Predictably, von Moltke and the Prussian General Staff were well up to the task.

The events of 1866 resulted in three new army corps being placed at Prussia’s disposal. The former armies of the newly incorporated north German states were generally reorganised and reformed, so that they adopted the same establishment and organisation as the equivalent Prussian units. A modified form of the concept that had previously been applied successfully to the Landwehr was used once again, and large numbers of Prussian officers and non-commissioned officers were assigned to the regiments of the newly annexed states. In some instances, complete companies of Prussian soldiers provided the core of the new regiments. However, this cross-posting process was not one-way only, and a number of the officers of the former armies of Hanover, Cassel and Nassau were also posted to existing Prussian units.