Abstract
Reviewed by: Mario Draper, University of Kent, UK
This collection of essays, edited by Frederick Schneid, Professor at High Point University, NC, makes a useful, though in some ways limited, contribution to the study of the French revolutionary wars’ armies. Bringing together a number of high-profile scholars to outline the organization, composition and effectiveness of familiar forces (France, Prussia, Austria, Russia, Britain and Spain), readers are also treated to examinations of more peripheral forces in Anglophone historiography (the German principalities, the Italian states and the Ottoman Empire).
The contents reveal a period of great change, juxtaposing the old order with the ‘nation in arms’. The French army, treated by Schneid, transformed from its Royalist incarnation into ‘a truly national army’, bringing with it organizational and tactical reforms that outpaced its Ancien Régime opponents (14). Lee Eysturlid contends that the Austrian Empire lacked the potential for such radical social changes, which, had they materialized, would have negated the Monarchy itself. Rather, the army remained a pillar for continued Habsburg rule and had to content itself with the resulting pursuit of strategically limited aims (76, 83). Others, such as the Italian states and the Ottoman Empire were constrained by their convoluted systems of administration, whilst the latter also suffered from not having participated in the continent’s mid-eighteenth-century wars (249–53).
Indeed, the spectre of the Seven Years’ War (and for some the ensuing American War) loomed large over European armies in the prelude to the revolutionary wars. Janet Hartley particularly praises the tactical appreciations of General Aleksandr Suvorov in this period, suggesting that he pre-empted much of what was to grace the battlefield after 1792 (96–9). In particular, though, the successes of Frederician drill and discipline during the Seven Years’ War saw the Prussian army become the model for the post-Habsburg Spanish army, and, to an extent, the British. Having rid themselves of the old terricos in favour of a modern military system of organization, Charles Esdaile concludes that by 1793, ‘Spain possessed an army that was no more old-fashioned than those of most of the other powers of Europe’ (151). Similarly, Edward Coss argues that British success in Egypt was a result of an amalgamation of Prussian manoeuvre and firepower with the skirmish tactics learnt in America (131). This was the apogee of a necessary military transformation during the revolutionary wars themselves, after the failed 1795 Flanders campaign had revealed that ‘the British army was the least competent and least feared of all the armed forces allied against the French’ (116).
Yet, ironically, Frederick William II sought to rejuvenate his uncle’s perceptibly waning system. Through the auspices of the enlightenment, he reformed living conditions, discipline and tactics (to incorporate more independently-minded jaegers and fusiliers), setting the platform for Prussian successes during the War of the First Coalition (46–7). Historians have viewed the subsequent reverse at Jena as evidence of continued military failings, but as Dennis Showalter’s excellent contribution demonstrates, they faced a French army and general at the height of their powers by 1806. ‘Defeat at such hands exposes weakness. It is by no means proof of dry rot’ (55).
Peter Wilson draws similar conclusions in his nuanced analysis of the armies of the German princes. Despite being wedded to the old order, the German states’ eventual defeat must not be seen as inevitable, as this would suggest a ‘single route to modernity’. They had, after all, embraced advances in military tactics. Smaller, highly-trained forces suited their capacities and mutual policy of coalition warfare. Rather, ‘failure stemmed from a reluctance to resort to the kind of violent expedients used by the French, and because Austro-Prussian competition over German resources undermined the collective war effort’ (187). Ultimately, the German States, like most others in Europe, were not prepared to move towards the totalization of war. Certainly, popular movements in Germany, Britain, Spain and Italy for home defence became increasingly apparent, but they were no levée en masse. In such light, Ciro Paoletti’s argument that small-scale insurgencies against French occupation in certain Italian states was a clear demonstration of ‘popular will’ seems somewhat out of kilter (222). Much more reasonable is Esdaile’s detailed research into the Spanish ‘people’s war’ of 1793–95, which suggests that the extent of voluntary participation has been wholly exaggerated (167).
Whilst there are interesting points raised in each individual chapter, there is an appreciable disparity in the level of research – evident in the number of secondary sources consulted. Similarly, there is an over-reliance, in some cases, on the existing Anglophone historiography, which undermines the ability of this volume to provide a ‘complete’ historiographical synthesis. Of greater concern is the lack of overall strategic direction. The introduction fails to set out sufficiently either the aims of the volume or the common themes one might expect to find in the ensuing pages. In the absence of an epilogue or conclusion, such omissions leave one wondering what the sum of its parts is supposed to add up to. Nevertheless, the value in compiling such variety in a single volume is self-evident. Those teaching or following a university course on the revolutionary wars would be well advised to consult its individual contributions as an introduction to the enormous complications of the period, whilst those with but a passing interest will certainly find it an easy and interesting read.