The debate on column versus line, and whether the British Army had an innate tactical edge or some other virtue that led to its victory at Waterloo, or whether it was just plain lucky, has fascinated military historians ever since the battle ended. In this article, Scott Bowden is used as the champion of the American "school" of historians, and Paddy Griffith to represent the British "school" of thought. The positions attributed to them here might be more representative of their "national school" rather than what they may have personally written. The staff hopes we will be corrected where their arguments are too crudely simplified. Scott Bowden has maintained that the central European campaigns were fought at a higher level of intensity than the sideshow in Spain and Portugal. He has argued that British victories in the Peninsula were against second rate French armies, representing no special art of war, and when Wellington met a true French army in 1815 he was fortunate to survive (only with the substantial help of the Prussians). Paddy Griffith, while destroying some of the myths of the Peninsular War, maintains that the British army was still tactically adept, and that the rather scratch force of British and allies, whether veteran or green, simply outfought a rather poorly handled French army at Waterloo. Fitting "It therefore seemed to come as a perfectly apt and fitting capstone to his [Wellington's] career that at Waterloo he should meet and defeat no less a military genius than Napoleon himself, with the result that Europe - enslaved no more could throw off the oppression of war and sport joyously for a hundred years in the beneficent radiance of freedom, tranquility and progress." (Wellington Commander, page 13). "In this case [the alleged "Rifle Revolution" of the American Civil War] however, it does just strike me that perhaps - just maybe - a teeny weeny counter-argument might possibly be put up against the accepted view. There is an outside chance for example that the whole feeble edifice might turn out to be nothing more than a load of old codswallop!" [emphasis his] (Miniature Wargames, No. 20.) Both of these quotes are by Paddy Griffith who in issue #3 of EE&L complained of a certain lack of impartiality on behalf of some of its writers. He also felt that he was misunderstood by Americans due to his "literary style." Griffith does say after the first quotation about Wellington that it is "a popular interpretation," but one which he apparently feels needs no qualification. This makes one wonder later in the same paragraph to whom he could be referring to when he speaks of the "hagiographers" of Wellington. And if the second quote is an example of a literary style (Evelyn Waugh might rise from the grave!), one that is foreign to us Americans, then perhaps Huck Finn should have "lit-out" for Oxford. But Griffith certainly isn't guilty of the kind of "nationalism" and "hidden agendas" that Scott Bowden (in EE&L #3) accuses him of (without naming Griffith), "sins" that others are certainly guilty of. Keegan and many other British writers consistently promote cuirassiers into the Imperial Guard ("...armoured cavalry of the Imperial Guard...." Face of Battle, page 127). Keegan even gets facts about his "own" side wrong. In a burst of ballistic nationalism he has Mercer at Waterloo, commanding a battery "...whose guns fired about seven hundred rounds each (an astonishing figure)...." - Face of Battle, page 142. He has confused the number of rounds fired by the entire battery with a per gun expenditure. And this is no mere oversight, Keegan is "astonished" by it. Indeed. Moral Double Standard? Griffith is also not guilty of a certain moral double standard. In a recent publication in the Campaign Series: Waterloo 1815, by Wootten (edited by Chandler), when Kellerman's cavalry at Quatre-Bras overruns a British battery they "ruthlessly hacked down the crew...." (page 39), but then later at Waterloo when Ponsonby's cavalry performs the same feat against the French Grand Battery with "...horses blown from the charge, they none the less set about sabering as many gunners as they could find" (page 62). No "ruthlessly hacking" about it, just some cavalry chaps setting about their job of sabering - on tired horses no less. Also at Waterloo, the killing (murder?) of Ponsonby is viewed by many British writers as simply another example of the moral turpitude of France. But when Byng's Guards at Hougoumont trap and kill (murder?) fifty or so of "L'Enfonceur" Legros' unfortunates, "to the last man" (they spared a drummer-boy), this is viewed as an example of a heroic defense of post. Griffith has also challenged Sir Charles Oman's tidy musket bookkeeping theory. But here is where the trouble starts, the battleline (or line of battalion columns?) is drawn. Griffith points out that the "pro-French" writers (Bowden among them) follow Colin's lead and insist that the French columns were somehow surprised by the British line before they were able to deploy as intended, into line. Griffith, however, says: "Nothing I have read...convince [sic] me that the French generals, even in 1806, were particularly adverse to making attacks in column if they thought they could get away with it" (EE&L #3, page 36). The "pro-French" writers seem to feel that only by insisting that the columns were supposed to deploy into line that the efficacy of the French tactical system can be upheld. But it seems strange that the columns could have been so consistently foiled in their attempts at deploying. If anything, far from justifying the system, the "pro-French" claim would seem to argue that its practitioners were inept. Pro-French Bowden simply states in his article on the 1806 French that the columns would habitually deploy into line against opposing lines (EE&L #1). But Elting in Swords Around a Throne says: "Once contact with the enemy was established, the leading battalions deployed from columns into line and opened fire. (If the enemy was in obvious disorder or weak, the French commander might try to bull on through with the bayonet without deploying.) Once the fire fight began, most French generals preferred to let their front line take open order and fight as a heavy skirmish line, using all available cover and firing at will rather than keep them standing in stiff ranks. This formation...could be employed offensively and defensively. Lannes used it at Jena and Friedland...." (page 535, no source given). So the lines at Jena, at least Lannes', would appear to be thick skirmish lines, not the "stiff" formations that Bowden implies. And we are back again with a column covered by skirmishers. Foucart in his Campagne de Prusse, Iena, (a source cited by Bowden in his article), after describing the standard line of skirmishers followed by a line of columns, states: "But that flexible line of skirmishers has no force by itself, it cannot defeat a resistance. The strength belongs to the columns, which, like a club, carry the strokes by pushing the skirmishers forward. [Mais cette ligne flexible de tirailleurs n'a point de force par elle-meme, elle ne peut pas vaincre un resistance. La force reside dans les columns qui elles, comme une masque, portent les coups en entrainent les tirailleurs dans leur marche en avant.] (page 705). So, if some columns were to deploy into line (as skirmishers), they still relied on a line of columns to conquer "a resistance." We are back again with a French column advancing against an enemy's line. Griffith differs from Oman, however, in that he ascribes the defeat of the French column not to the line's "regular volleys," but rather to the line's single volley (sometimes none), a hearty cheer, and a charge "with cold steel." In Wellington Commander he states, "The secret of that British soldier's success lay in his ability to hold his fire longer than his French counterpart and then to launch so astoundingly violent and unnerving counter-attack" (page 155). He does away with the British myth of thin red lines coolly firing, but he provides a suspicious substitute: the apparently innate British ability to "close with the bayonet." Griffith's argument avoids the obvious: If the French attack column was intended as a shock element and relied on its support arms for "softening up," then if the enemy wasn't "softened up," the fault lies with the inadequate job done by the French support arms, not with the column. Griffith hints at this when he says, "They [the French] failed to realize that in this case the defeat [of the column] tended to strengthen rather than weaken the moral balance in favour of the enemy, or that the habitual support of massed cavalry and artillery was lacking." - (Forward into Battle, page 35.) When cavalry, the preeminent shock arm, attacked infantry, it was not considered part of the cavalry's job to break steady, well- formed squares. Rather it was the job of the infantry and artillery to "unsteady" the squares to the point where the cavalry could break them. When cavalry came up against a steady square and (usually) was unable to break it, there was no head scratching over tactics; what they should have done, how they should have charged, if or when they should have cheered, etc., nor in turn any particular analysis of the square's defensive "tactics." Reluctance Griffith attributes the nonchalance of the defeated French commanders as being a reluctance to face up to the shortcomings of a sloppy tactical system. But if the column was not intended to "soften up" the line, and if that line had not been "softened up" first in order for the column to succeed (except if the line was composed of poor quality troops), then if the appearance of the column failed to break the line from its position, then again it was the fault of the support arms, not the column. If the column succeeded in getting through the artillery and skirmish fire zones, if it made its appearance to "scare the enemy from the ground" but the enemy wasn't moved, then the column still had done its job. If the column was allowed, as apparently its Continental opponents permitted it to on occasions, to then "deploy" or rather to break down into a skirmish line, so much the better. But if the initial "shock" of the French column failed, it was a problem of inadequate support. Let's consider that it was not so much what the British line did when confronted by a French column that was decisive, rather it was what they didn't do: they didn't run away, or give ground, or "flutter" which would encourage the column to charge. In the Peninsula, a British line was usually not in disorder and suffered relatively few casualties. A French column, on the other hand, was usually afflicted by both problems. French tactical preparation prior to the assault by the column was supposed to reverse this situation. It was the line that was supposed to have suffered casualties and been in disorder. It was their skirmish line that was supposed to have been defeated and unable to fire on the column, and their artillery nullified by cavalry, skirmishers or counterbattery fire. It was the line that was supposed to be so disordered that the mere sight of the column advancing with "cold steel" would cause them to flee. If the line was not so disordered (in most cases), then the attacking column was already defeated. The British line in Spain and Portugal not only remained in position and did not retreat, in most cases they counter- charged. What the steady British line did when confronted by the attacking French column is somewhat irrelevant, since the column was already defeated, at least in its attempt to "scare them from the ground." No Support Why were the support arms for the attacking French columns not that effective? Compared to most other theaters of operations, French artillery and cavalry were not as numerous in Spain and Portugal, and the French skirmish lines in the Peninsula do not appear to have been able to contain or penetrate the Anglo-Allied skirmish lines. At Waterloo, however, the French were finally able to bring cavalry and artillery onto that battlefield comparable with the numbers deployed in their eastern European battles. The general "pro-British" view of the tactical lesson of Waterloo is usually summed up by Wellington's quote: "He [Napoleon] just moved forward in the old style, in columns, and was driven off in the old style." But this is not all of what Wellington said, his next sentence is: "The only difference was, that he mixed cavalry with his infantry, and supported both with an enormous quantity of artillery." - Wellington Dispatches, Gurwood, Volume VIII, pp. 186-187. Beresford. 2d July, 1815. Most "pro-British" accounts of Waterloo have an almost schizophrenic quality about them. After discussing the theoretical inherent superiority of the British line over the French column, and giving an account of the various other tactical "blunders" by the French: the ineffective Grand Battery due to Wellington's reverse slope tactics, D'Erlon's unusually massive columns, Ney's futile unsupported cavalry charges - making one feel that it should have been something of a British walkover - there is a sudden shifting of tone. While "deftly parrying the clumsy French attacks," the British line, far from being untouched by combat, is suddenly "sorely pressed." Peninsula veterans have never heard such a cannonade before. (What would they have thought at Borodino where twice as many cannon were deployed on a smaller frontage?) Wellington "must be everywhere," rallying shaken troops. The insides of squares are described as "hospitals." Halkett requests that his brigade be allowed to retire but is told to stand to the last man. Instead of a tough, but still onesided affair again validating British tactical superiority, Waterloo now has the appearance of a desperate fight unlike anything seen in the Peninsula, with British formations suffering heavy casualties. Another writer describes the English center as pervaded by an air of ruin and desolation. Some British officers consider plans for retreat. Although the British were involved in a kind of warfare they had not experienced before, it is combat that any eastern European veteran would be familiar with. Griffith discusses this indirectly in his chapter: "The Myth of the Empty Battlefield" in Forward into Battle. After the fall of La Haye Sainte, a "hole" mysteriously appears in the British right center, caused by D'Erlon's troops acting as skirmishers. Earlier in the day these French troops had been "thoroughly defeated" and ridden over by cavalry. Now they mysteriously reappear, and with a vengeance. The brigades that formed the British right center at the start were, from east to west: Ompteda, Kielmansegge, Halkett and Maitland. Ompteda's brigade was involved in the defense of La Haye Sainte and had two battalions scattered by French cavalry. The other three brigades came under close-order infantry attack only once throughout the entire day: during the final attack by the Middle Guard. Yet these three brigades cumulatively lost close to thirty percent of their effectives. How can this be? There is no doubt that there were tactical errors made by the French at Waterloo, but these errors apparently didn't compromise their ability to inflict casualties, only to win. While losing 30% in overall casualties, Halkett's brigade lost 45% of its officers, an indication that the French skirmisher fire was successful. The cavalry attacks the brigades underwent from about four o'clock until around six, while ineffective in themselves, still gave the French artillery and skirmishers excellent targets. The general agreement that Wellington's reverse slope tactics nullified the Grand Battery may need revision. Either the Anglo-Allied troops weren't as protected as previously thought, or the French may have been (inadvertently?) the precursors of indirect fire. (Along with the sixty or so 6- and 12pounders in the Grand Battery, there were also about twenty howitzers capable of "finding out what was on the other side of the hill"). During the final French attack, the only time these brigades faced formed infantry, instead of fire, cheer and charge, Maitland's brigade stood and engaged in, as Griffith says: "a lengthy exchange of musketry." (Forward into Battle, page 26). Was this the result of a partially successful "softening up" by the French, so that perhaps these British troops were not as willing to "close with cold steel" as they might have been otherwise? Griffith seems to scratch his head and conclude, "For all our reservations, therefore, we must accept this as a rare bona fide case of a successful firefight." (Forward into Battle pp. 26-27.) And Halkett's brigade at one point retires in "frightful confusion," but "Fortunately the enemy took no advantage" (Macready Waterloo Letters, page 331). The brigade then was able to reform, and, with apparently rather long range musketry, hold off several subsequent attacks. Perhaps it is a "given" for "pro- British" writers that no amount of casualties from artillery and skirmish fire, of fatigue from being forced into and out of square for several hours, of smoke and confusion, could naught but cause a British line when confronted by a French column to give a volley, cheer and charge with the "cold steel." For others, it is not. Back to Empire, Eagles, & Lions Table of Contents Vol. 2 No. 8 Back to EEL List of Issues Back to MagWeb Master Magazine List © Copyright 1994 by Emperor's Headquarters This article appears in MagWeb (Magazine Web) on the Internet World Wide Web. Other military history articles and gaming articles are available at http://www.magweb.com