The Campaign of Königgrätz

It is interesting to compare the tactical features of the campaign of 1866 with those of our own war. The necessity of launching upon the points assailed a succession of attacks was recognized in the tactical disposition frequently made, during the War of Secession, in which the assaulting divisions were drawn up in three lines of brigades, at distances of about 150 yards, the leading brigade being preceded by one, or sometimes two, lines of skirmishers.17 The skirmishers being reinforced by, and absorbed in, the first line, the latter, if checked, being reinforced and pushed forward by the second, and the third line being similarly absorbed, the assaulting force, at the moment of collision, generally consisted of all the successive lines merged into one dense line. This formation was the outgrowth of bitter experience in attacking in column, though the attack with battalions ployed in close column had not altogether disappeared in 1864.18 In comparison with the beautiful tactics by which the Germans now attack, with a firing line constantly reinforced from supports and reserves kept in small columns for the double purpose of obtaining the greatest possible combination of mobility and shelter, the attack formation used in the Civil War seems far from perfect; but it was certainly superior to the Prussian attack formation of 1866, for it recognized the hopelessness of attacks in column, and provided for the successive reinforcement of an attacking line. General Sherman, in describing the tactics in use in his campaigns, says: “The men generally fought in strong skirmish lines, taking advantage of the shape of the ground, and of every cover.” Dispositions being, of course, made for the constant reinforcement of these lines, we find Sherman’s army habitually using tactics embracing the essential features of the German tactics of the present day.19

The Austrian infantry tactics possessed the double attribute of antiquity and imbecility. Major Adams, of the Royal Military and Staff Colleges, says: “Since the Italian war, when Napoleon III. declared that ‘arms of precision were dangerous only at a distance,’ it had been the endeavor of Austria to imitate the tactics to which she attributed her own defeat. If the uniform success of the French in 1859 had established the trustworthiness of the Emperor’s theory, how much more necessary must it now be to arrive at close quarters, where precision was accompanied by unusual rapidity of fire? The more recent experiences of the American war would seem indeed to have excited but little interest in Austria. Could it really be reasonably expected that Austrian soldiers should effect what American generals had long discarded as no longer to be attained? The advocacy of the bayonet, so loudly proclaimed in Austrian circles, would surely have elicited a contemptuous smile from the veterans of the Army of the Potomac. During three years of war, but 143 cases of bayonet wounds were treated in the northern hospitals; of these, but two-thirds were received in action, and six only proved eventually fatal. How, then, could it be imagined that tactics, which had already failed against the common rifle, … should now prevail against the Prussian breech-loaders? The manner in which these naked Austrian battalions were ignorantly flung against the murderous fire of the enemy soon produced results which every novice in the art of war will readily appreciate. Even under cover the dread of the Prussian weapon became such that, as the enemy approached, the Austrian infantry either broke or surrendered.”

The important aid that the Austrians might have derived from hasty entrenchments has already been pointed out.20 In not one single instance did they make use of such shelter-trenches or breastworks as were habitually used by the American armies, though the theater of war offered the best of opportunities for the quick construction and valuable use of such works. Such attempts at the construction of entrenchments as were made, savor more of the days of Napoleon than of the era of arms of precision. But the Austrians were not alone in their neglect to profit by American experience in this respect. It was not until Osman Pasha showed on European soil the value of hasty entrenchments, that European military men generally took note of a lesson of war that they might have learned thirteen years earlier.21

The great value of hasty entrenchments, and the immeasurable superiority of fire action over “cold steel,” were not the only lessons taught by our war which were unheeded by Austrian soldiers steeped in conservatism and basking serenely in the sunshine of their own military traditions. Their use of cavalry showed either an ignorance of, or contempt for, the experience of the American armies; but, in this respect, the Austrians were not less perspicacious than their adversaries. The campaign produced some fine examples of combats between opposing forces of cavalry; but it also produced many instances in which the Austrians hurled their cavalry against intact infantry armed with breech-loaders, only to learn from their own defeat and an appalling list of killed and wounded, that they had applied the tactics of a past age to the conditions of a new era. Both armies seem to have been afraid to let their cavalry get out of sight, and to have reserved their mounted troops solely for use on the field of battle. If they had studied the great raids of the American cavalry leaders, they would have learned a lesson which there were excellent opportunities to apply.

It would, probably, have been impossible for the Austrian cavalry to cut the Prussian communications before the junction of the invading armies was effected. A cavalry column attempting to move around the left of Frederick Charles would almost certainly have been caught between the First Army and the impassable Isergebirge, and captured before doing any damage. A column moving around the Prussian right, into Saxony, would have encountered the cavalry division of Von Mülbe’s reserve corps, to say nothing of the infantry and artillery; and the movement would, doubtless, have come to naught. A movement against the communications of the Crown Prince could have been made only via the valley of the Oder, where it could have been effectually opposed. But it is certain that after the battle of Königgrätz the Austrians had it in their power to balk the advance of Von Moltke by operating with cavalry against his communications. In this case the raiders would have been operating in their own country, and among a friendly population; the railways could have been cut without difficulty, and the cavalry could have retreated without serious danger of being intercepted. The effect upon the invading army does not admit of doubt. We have seen that, with unobstructed communications, the Prussian army was subjected to no slight distress, after the battle of Münchengrätz, for want of rations. Even two days after peace had been agreed upon, the Austrian garrison of Theresienstadt, ignorant of the termination of the war, by a successful sally destroyed the railway bridge near Kralup. The line of communication of the Prussians with the secondary base of supplies at Turnau was thus broken; and, though hostilities were at an end, the invaders were subjected to much inconvenience. It is easy to imagine what would have been the effect upon the Prussians during their advance to the Danube, if a Stuart, a Forrest or a Grierson had operated against the railways upon which the supply of the invading army necessarily depended.

Nor were the raiding opportunities altogether on the side of the Austrians. The Prague-Olmütz line of railway, of the most vital importance to Von Benedek, ran parallel to the Silesian frontier, and in close proximity to it. This line of railway should have been a tempting object to a raiding column of cavalry. If it had been cut at any point near Böhmisch-Trübau, the Austrian army would have been in sore straits for supplies. Vigorous and determined cavalry raids against the railroad between Böhmisch-Trübau and Olmütz would surely have been productive of good results, even if the road had not been cut; for Von Benedek was extremely solicitous about his communications in this part of the theater (as is shown by his long detention of the IId Corps in this region), and an alert and enterprising raider might have found means of detaining from the main Austrian army a force much larger than his own.

But neither the Austrian nor the Prussian cavalry was so armed as to be able to make raiding movements with much hope of success. Cavalry without the power of using effective fire-action can never accomplish anything of importance on a raid; for a small force of hostile infantry can easily thwart its objects. The dragoon regiments were armed with the carbine, it is true, but they seem to have been studiously taught to feel a contempt for its use. At Tischnowitz (on the advance from Königgrätz to Brünn) a Prussian advanced-guard, consisting of dragoons, kept off a large force of Austrian cavalry by means of carbine fire, until the arrival of reinforcements enabled the dragoons to charge with the saber. According to Hozier, the Austrian cavalry pulled up sharply, “half surprised, half frightened, to find that a carbine could be of any use, except to make noise or smoke, in the hands of a mounted man.” Yet nothing seems to have been learned from this incident, and it was not until a brigade of German cavalry, consisting of three regiments, was stopped at the village of Vibray, in December, 1870, by a bare dozen of riflemen, and the Uhlans were everywhere forced to retire before the undisciplined Francs-tireurs, that the necessity of fire-action on the part of all cavalry was forced home to the Germans. Even yet the strategical value of the American cavalry raids seems to be under-estimated by European military critics, who seem also to regard anything like extensive fire-action on the part of cavalry as scarcely short of military heresy. Von der Goltz says: “Much has been spoken in modern times of far-reaching excursions of great masses of cavalry in the flank and rear of the enemy, which go beyond the object of intelligence, and have for their aim the destruction of railways, telegraph wires, bridges, magazines and depots. The American War of Secession made us familiar with many such ‘raids,’ on which the names of a Stuart, an Ashby, a Morgan and others, attained great renown. But, in attempting to transfer them to our theaters of war, we must primarily take into consideration the different nature, civilization and extent of the most European countries, but more especially those of the west. Then, regard must be paid to the different constitution of the forces. If a squadron of horse, improvised by a partisan, was defeated in such an enterprise, or if, when surrounded by the enemy, it broke itself up, that was of little consequence. It was only necessary that it was first paid for by some successes. Quite a different impression would be caused by the annihilation of one of our cavalry regiments, that by history and tradition is closely bound up with the whole army, and which, when once destroyed, cannot so easily rise again as can a volunteer association of adventurous farmers’ sons.

“The thorough organization of the defensive power of civilized nations is also a preventive to raids. Even when the armies have already marched away, squadrons of horse can, in thickly populated districts, with a little preparation, be successfully repulsed by levies. The French Francs-tireurs in the western departments attacked our cavalry, as soon as they saw it isolated.”

With all deference to the great military writer here quoted, it is impossible to concede that he has grasped the true idea of cavalry raids. The slight esteem in which he holds “a volunteer association of adventurous farmers’ sons” is not surprising, for Europeans have rarely formed a just idea of American volunteers, and the effective fire-action of the American cavalry seems to be taken by foreign critics as proof positive that those troops were not cavalry, but merely mounted infantry—a view not shared by those who participated in the saber charges of Merritt, Custer and Devin. As to the annihilation of a Prussian cavalry regiment, there should be no objection to the annihilation of any regiment, however rich it may be in glorious history and tradition, provided that the emergency demands it, and the results obtained be of sufficient value to justify the sacrifice. Von Bredow’s charge at Mars-la-Tour was deemed well worth the sacrifice of two superb cavalry regiments; yet the results obtained by that famous charge certainly were not greater than those achieved by Van Dorn in the capture of Holly Springs. The former is supposed to have stopped a dangerous French attack; the latter is known to have checked a Federal campaign at its outset. Even had Van Dorn’s entire force been captured or slain (instead of escaping without loss) the result would have justified the sacrifice. Nor is the danger of annihilation great, if the cavalry be properly armed and trained. That cavalry untrained in fire-action can be successfully repulsed by levies, in thickly populated districts, is undoubtedly true; but such cavalry as that which, under Wilson, dismounted and carried entrenchments by a charge on foot, would hardly be stopped by such troops as Francs-tireurs or any other hasty levies that could be raised in a country covered with villages. Superior mobility should enable cavalry to avoid large forces of infantry, and it should be able to hold its own against any equal force of opposing cavalry or infantry. The objections of Von der Goltz and Prince Hohenlohe to raids by large bodies of cavalry, lose their force if we consider the cavalry so armed and trained as to be capable of effective fire-action. When cavalry is so armed and organized as to make it possible for Prince Hohenlohe to state that a cavalry division of six regiments “could put only 1,400 carbines into the firing line,” and that “in a difficult country it could have no chance against even a battalion of infantry decently well posted,” we must acknowledge that a respectable raid is out of the question.

We do not find, in 1866, the cavalry pushed forward as a strategic veil covering the operations of the army. On the contrary we find the cavalry divisions kept well to the rear, and the divisional cavalry alone entrusted with reconnoissance duty, which it performed in anything but an efficient manner. At Trautenau, Von Bonin’s cavalry does not seem to have followed the retreat of Mondl, or to have discovered the approach of Von Gablentz. If it was of any use whatever, the fact is not made apparent in history. At Nachod, Steinmetz’s cavalry did better, and gave timely warning of the approach of the enemy; but generally, throughout the campaign, the Prussian cavalry did not play a part of much importance either in screening or reconnoitering. It profited greatly by its experience, however, and in the Franco-German war we find it active, alert, ubiquitous, and never repeating the drowsy blunder committed when it allowed Frederick Charles unwittingly to bivouac within four miles and a half of Von Benedek’s entire army, or the inertness shown when it permitted the Austrian army to escape from all touch, sight or hearing, for three days, after the battle of Königgrätz.

On the part of the Austrians, the cavalry was even more negligent and inefficient. Outpost and reconnoissance duties were carelessly performed; and Von Benedek was greatly hampered by a want of timely and correct information of the enemy’s movements. In only one instance does the Austrian cavalry seem to have been used profitably; namely, in covering the retreat of the defeated army at Königgrätz. In the words of Hozier: “Although operations had been conducted in its own country, where every information concerning the Prussian movements could have been readily obtained from the inhabitants, the Austrian cavalry had made no raids against the flank or rear of the advancing army, had cut off no ammunition or provision trains, had broken up no railway communications behind the marching columns, had destroyed no telegraph lines between the front and the base of supplies, had made no sudden or night attacks against the outposts so as to make the weary infantry stand to their arms and lose their night’s rest, and, instead of hovering around the front and flanks to irritate and annoy the pickets, had been rarely seen or fallen in with, except when it had been marched down upon and beaten up by the Prussian advanced-guards.” Surely it needed all the energy and valor shown in the last hours of Königgrätz to atone, in even a small degree, for such inefficiency.

The full offensive value of artillery was not yet understood in any army; and it is not surprising to notice in this campaign the utter absence of the tactics which, in the war with France, brought the German guns almost up to the skirmish line, and kept them actively engaged at close range until the end of the battle. It is, however, amazing to observe the slowness and general inefficiency of the Prussian artillery in every action. At Trautenau, though there were 96 guns belonging to Von Bonin’s corps, only 32 were brought into action, while 42 remained in the immediate vicinity without firing a shot. The remaining 22 guns do not seem to have reached the field at all. At Soor the Austrians brought 64 guns into action; but of the 72 guns of the Prussians, only 18 were brought into action from first to last. At Nachod, Skalitz and Gitschin it is the same story—plenty of Prussian artillery, but only a small portion of the guns brought into action, and those without appreciable effect.

Prince Hohenlohe says that in the entire campaign “the Prussian artillery, which numbered as many pieces as its adversary, had only once been able to obtain the numerical superiority. It had, on all occasions, fought against forces two, three, or even four times superior in number.” At Königgrätz the Prussian artillery was handled with surprising feebleness. The Crown Prince finally succeeded in bringing to bear on the Austrian right a force of artillery superior in numbers to that opposed to him; but, even in this case, his guns accomplished but little. As to the artillery of Frederick Charles, it practically accomplished nothing at all; and it was scarcely of more use on the Bistritz than it would have been in Berlin. From the beginning to the end of the battle, the Austrians had everywhere a decided superiority of artillery fire, except only in the one case on their right.

The Prussian Staff History says, in regard to the engagement south of the Sadowa wood: “A want of unity in the direction of the artillery was painfully evident on this part of the field. Two commandants of regiments were on the spot, but the eleven batteries then present belonged to five different artillery divisions, some of them to the divisional artillery and some to the reserve. This accounts for the want of unity of action at this spot; some batteries advanced perfectly isolated, whilst others retired behind the Bistritz at the same time.” To this Colonel Home adds: “A great deal of this was due to the fact that the guns came into action on one side of a small, muddy, stream, over which there were very few bridges, and across which bridges might have been thrown with ease, while the wagons remained on the other.” It may be further added, that the Prussian artillery seems to have been unduly afraid of encountering infantry fire, and to have had a bad habit of withdrawing to refit and to renew its ammunition. It is said of the Prussian artillery, that “they planted themselves here and there among the reserves, and never found places anywhere to engage.”22 On the march the artillery was kept too far to the rear, and, owing to its inefficient action, the infantry, long before the close of the campaign, generally showed a disposition to despise its help, and to hurry into action without it, crowding the roads, and refusing to let the guns pass. Much had been expected of their artillery by the Prussians, and its feeble action was a severe disappointment to them. It is to the glory of the Prussians that they were quick to fathom the causes of the inefficiency of their artillery, and that they were able, in four years, to replace the impotence of Königgrätz with the annihilating “circle of fire” of Sedan.

The Austrians far surpassed their adversaries in the skill and effectiveness with which they used their artillery. The superiority of the French artillery had largely contributed to the Austrian disasters in Italy seven years before, and the lesson had not been forgotten. From the beginning of the Campaign of 1866, the Austrian artillery was an important factor in every engagement, and at Königgrätz it was handled superbly. But, in every case, it was used defensively, and the Austrian artillerists originated no new tactical features, and taught no lessons that could not have been learned from Gettysburg, Malvern Hill, Solferino, or even Wagram.

The concentration of the Prussian armies preparatory to hostilities was made partly by marching, and partly by railroad transportation. The work accomplished by the railroads may, perhaps, be best expressed in the words of the Prussian Staff History: “The whole of the marches and of the railway movements were so arranged by the General Staff, in harmony with the railway department, that in their execution, in which both the military and civil powers were concerned, no impediments or delays could occur. The result of these arrangements was, that in the twenty-one days allowed, 197,000 men, 55,000 horses, and 5,300 wagons were transported for distances varying between 120 and 300 miles, without any failure, and in such a manner that they attained the required spots at the very hour requisite.” Prussia was thus enabled, in the short space of three weeks, to place 325,000 men on the hostile frontiers, of which number 267,000 were ready for operations against Austria. Yet, great as this achievement was, it shows that the Prussian military system had not yet reached the perfection shown in 1870, when nineteen days sufficed for the mobilization of an army of 440,000 Germans, and its concentration on the frontier of France.

Further than in the matter of mobilization and concentration, the use of railways in the Austro-Prussian war presented no new features. In the matter of supplying armies in the field, the small area of the theater of war, and the inertness of the cavalry, were such that it is almost impossible to make a comparison of the use of railways in this campaign with the use of the same means of transport in the War of Secession. If we imagine a Prussian army pushing entirely through the Austrian Empire, to the vicinity of Belgrade, and dependent for its supplies on a single line of railway, back to a base on the Prussian frontier; and if we imagine, moreover, that the Austrian cavalry possessed vigilance, enterprise, good firearms and modern ideas, instead of being a mere military anachronism, we can picture a parallel to Sherman’s Atlanta campaign.

In regard to the use of the electric telegraph by the Prussians, Hamley says: “The telegraphic communication between the two Prussian armies invading Bohemia in 1866 was not maintained up to the battle of Königgrätz: had it been, and had the situation on both sides been fully appreciated, their joint attack might have been so timed as to obviate the risk of separate defeat which the premature onset of Prince Frederick Charles’ army entailed.” Yet Hozier describes in glowing terms the equipment of Frederick Charles’ telegraph train, and speaks with somewhat amusing admiration of the feat of placing the Prince’s headquarters, at the castle of Grafenstein, in direct telegraphic communication with Berlin, though the castle was five miles from the nearest permanent telegraph station. With each of the Prussian armies was a telegraph train, provided with the wire and other material requisite for the construction of forty miles of line. Yet, though communication was opened between the Crown Prince and Frederick Charles early on June 30th; though there were three days in which to construct a telegraph line; though the headquarters at Gitschin, Kamenitz and Königinhof could have been put in direct communication without exhausting much more than half the capacity of a single telegraph train, the Prussians neglected even to preserve telegraphic communications to the rear of their armies (and thus with each other via Berlin), and, as we have seen, staked their success upon the safe delivery of a message carried by a courier, over an unknown road, on a night of pitchy darkness. Here again a valuable lesson might have been learned from the Americans.23