Wellington’s Favourite Engineer?

Since we announced our latest book, several people, have questioned the choice of title. Can we truly say that John Fox Burgoyne was Wellington’s favourite? If so, why him and not other deserving Royal Engineer officers such as Richard Fletcher? Author Mark Thompson explains why he believes Burgoyne to have had pride of place in Wellington’s esteem.

Of course, no-one will ever know for certain. Wellington did not say it, but a look at Burgoyne’s service with the Duke will make such a claim reasonable and explain why I have said this about him and not the senior engineer for most of the war, Lieutenant Colonel Richard Fletcher. Apart from one brief absence, Richard Fletcher was the Commanding Royal Engineer under Wellington from 1809 until his death in September 1813. From reading the correspondence over the period, I would describe Fletcher’s relationship with Wellington as professional rather than warm. Over the duration of the war, Wellington came to respect Fletcher’s advice even when he did not follow it. Fletcher was probably one of the few officers who could ‘speak truth unto power’ to their leader and stay in his role.  As the war continued the relationship appeared to become strained, particularly after the difficulties in the sieges of 1811 and 1812. One scurrilous account suggested that Wellington left Fletcher at Badajoz to make the repairs in 1812 because he blamed him for the high casualties (I do not believe it).  Similarly, Fletcher did not appear to have a friendly relationship with his engineer subordinates. He was a great organiser rather than a great leader.

Burgoyne, on the other hand, was generally well liked and had built close and friendly relationships with most of his fellow engineers who served with him in the Peninsula. Burgoyne had also met several Peninsular generals including John Moore and Thomas Graham and was well respected by them. When Burgoyne first came into contact with Wellington he would have come with positive reviews.  In 1809 Burgoyne was ordered by Wellington to carry out comprehensive surveys of the Douro river and the northern border which.  Later in the year he was the only engineer who was with the army for several months when all others were ordered to Lisbon to start work on the Lines of Torres Vedras. This remained the case until mid-1810 when Fletcher re-joined headquarters. Burgoyne would have seen Wellington regularly through this period and was heavily involved in the preparations for the French invasion, surveying potential routes, mining bridges, preparing fort conception and identifying defensive positions all of which would have required close liaison with his commander.

The incident during the action at El Bodon in 1811 where Burgoyne was ordered to stay with a threatened Portuguese regiment (described in detail in the book) showed Wellington’s confidence in Burgoyne, and willingness to use him in non-engineering roles.

Burgoyne then took senior roles at the sieges of Badajoz and Ciudad Rodrigo but avoided the flak that the chief engineer received. When Fletcher remained at Badajoz in 1812, Burgoyne commanded the engineers with the army even though there was another senior engineer in the Peninsula. He carried out another detailed survey of the Douro which would have been in preparation for the advance in 1813 although he would not have known that at the time. The challenges of the Salamanca forts and the failed siege at Burgos did not appear to impact Wellington’s view of Burgoyne.

On the death of Fletcher at San Sebastian in 1813, Burgoyne took over temporary command again. There were two senior engineer officers in the Peninsula at the time and Wellington did not order either up to the army (one was only 40 miles away).  It was almost certain that Wellington was involved in the decision to appoint Burgoyne to the American expedition of 1814.

Burgoyne’s relationship with Wellington did not finish with the end of the war. Wellington was Master General of the Ordnance from 1819-1827 and is likely to have had direct contact with Burgoyne who was commanding engineer for the Medway District, based at Chatham. Burgoyne was selected to be chief engineer of the expedition to Portugal in 1826 and Wellington would have approved this appointment. In 1831 Burgoyne was appointed to the Board of Public Works in Ireland and his work in that country will not have escaped the attention of the Duke.  Burgoyne’s later civil duties across the nation meant he would have been in contact with ministers during the period that Wellington was in the government. One wonders if Wellington had a hand in some of these appointments.

The claim that Burgoyne was (possibly) Wellingtons Favourite Engineer is based on his regular use of this officer when others could have been used. Wellington clearly had great confidence in him and was happy to use him in the absence of senior engineer officers and sometimes over other army officers. No other senior engineer officer served as long under Wellington during the Peninsular War and survived. This relationship built in war would endure for another thirty years in peace.

Gustavus Adolphus, the Lion from the North

By Michael Fredholm von Essen

When in July 1630, King Gustavus Adolphus and the Swedish field army landed at Peenemünde in northern Germany, they were greeted as the saviours of the beleaguered German Protestants. Gustavus Adolphus himself was immortalised as the Lion from the North. Soon, his supporters built a personality cult around his person. The process, which got underway already in his lifetime, continued, even more so, after his death. However, there is no doubt that Gustavus Adolphus was a truly charismatic ruler. Many contemporary eyewitnesses have given evidence that he was well liked, even admired, by most of those who met him, whether nobles or commoners. There were reasons for this. Highly educated in both the sciences and humanities, Gustavus Adolphus was also well versed in several languages. In addition to Swedish, German, and probably some Finnish (the three predominant languages of the Swedish kingdom), he spoke Latin, Italian, French, and Dutch. He understood Spanish, English, and Scots, and knew some Polish and Russian. He was trained in philosophy and jurisprudence. But even more, Gustavus Adolphus was likeable. He was friendly, co-operative, and would listen to opinions and advice. He had a sense of humour, made jokes, and enjoyed social events such as banquets and dances.

Yet, all these positive characteristics were not what made him a charismatic leader of men. To learn what drove Gustavus Adolphus as a commander, we must turn to his own writings, which seems never before to have been translated into English. In the uncompleted book On the Duties of Soldiers, Gustavus Adolphus explains what he expected of his commanders. We can assume that this also described what he expected of himself. Gustavus Adolphus listed the characteristics of a good commander as ‘virtue, knowledge, caution, authority, and luck’. He wanted leaders who in clear conscience could tell their men that ‘I want you to follow not only my instructions and orders but also my example’. To avoid empty words, Gustavus Adolphus succinctly defined what he meant by a commander’s virtue: ‘I demand of him virtue in the form of honesty in his daily life, vigour and industriousness in his duties, bravery in danger, diligence in his work, and speed in fulfilment’. But, Gustavus Adolphus reminded the reader, knowledge of military science was required, too. This could be acquired in two ways, he explained, either through study or experience. He held study the safer method, since it enabled the student to gain knowledge through the fortune and misfortune of others, instead of having to live through all these risks himself. Besides, modern science was required to plan camps and build fortifications.

Gustavus Adolphus lived as he taught. In war, he led from the front, sharing the labours and risks of his men. During the siege of Riga in 1621 and again at the landing in Germany in 1630, Gustavus Adolphus himself, spade in hand, took part in the physical labour to erect field fortifications.

Gustavus Adolphus inherited the Swedish throne in 1611, at age 16. Earlier in the same year, the Danes invaded Sweden in what became known as the Kalmar War. Soon Gustavus Adolphus had to shoulder military command. At the same time, Sweden was also still at war with the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. The reason was dynastic. Polish King Sigismund was Gustavus Adolphus’s cousin and, moreover, represented the elder line of the Swedish royal house of Vasa. Sigismund still laid claim to the Swedish throne. Moreover, in the very same year, war also broke out with Muscovy, with which Sweden shared a common border in the northeast. When Gustavus Adolphus landed in Germany 19 years later, he already had a record as a successful commander in the north and east. The question was, how would he fare against the powerful Holy Roman Empire of the German Nation, as its full name went, and Spain, the other powerful Habsburg possession, with its global empire?

Is there anything new to be said about Gustavus Adolphus and the Swedish army in the Thirty Years’ War? There is indeed a wealth of contemporary information already published in books such as The Swedish Intelligencer, The Swedish Discipline, and Colonel Robert Monro’s regimental history Monro, His Expedition with the Worthy Scots Regiment. In other European languages, there is Le soldat svedois, a contemporary history of the war compiled by Friedrich Spanheim the Elder, which was published in French, Italian, and German. In German, we also have Bogislaff Philip von Chemnitz’s Königlichen Schwedischen in Teutschland geführten Kriegs, which was the official Swedish history of the war, and the multi-volume Theatrum Europaeum, a chronicle of events in Europe in the period 1618-1718 by the publisher Merian in Frankfurt-am-Main, which provides numerous details and illustrations. There are also two military manuals in German which describe the Swedish model of war: Lorentz von Troupitzen’s Kriegs Kunst and Wendelin Schildknecht’s Harmonia in fortalitiis construendis, defendendis & oppugnandis, both of which describe the doctrine introduced by Gustavus Adolphus. Having said this, sources such as The Swedish Intelligencer, Le soldat svedois, and Theatrum Europaeum are compilations of newsletters and propaganda, for which reason they cannot always be taken at face value. Even Monro, who was an officer in the Swedish army, and Chemnitz, who was the official Swedish historian, used such materials to describe events of which they had no personal knowledge. Their information must accordingly be assessed with care when used as sources. As for the prints of battles in the Theatrum Europaeum, due to artistic license they were regarded as unreliable sources even by contemporaries.

A key modern reference work to the wars of Gustavus Adolphus is the multi-volume Sveriges krig 1611-1632 by the Swedish General Staff, published in Swedish in 1936-1939. This work contains many valuable archive documents relating to the Swedish army under Gustavus Adolphus and is reliable in its use of official records including orders of battle, casualty lists, and logistical inventories. However, its conclusions on tactics and strategy cannot always be taken for granted due to bias in favour of Gustavus Adolphus and extrapolation from developments which took place much later. For instance, the prominent military historian Hans Delbrück greatly influenced the historians of the Swedish General Staff, and a major thread in Delbrück’s work was the choice between strategies of annihilation and attrition. Delbrück argued that a strategy of annihilation stands in opposition to a strategy of attrition. Since prevalent Swedish military thinking in the first half of the twentieth century considered the strategy of annihilation as superior, the General Staff authors wanted to show that Gustavus Adolphus must have followed such a strategy – which he generally did not.

It is far more interesting to analyse the organisational model and tactical doctrine which Gustavus Adolphus actually introduced, since it strongly influenced the western way of warfare. The Swedish model of warfare was copied by most west and north European militaries, including Sweden’s opponents. Muscovy based its entire set of new formation regiments on the Swedish pattern. Moreover, the Swedish model laid the foundation for subsequent improvements in British infantry and French cavalry tactics. In addition, the Swedish regimental artillery was copied by many countries, including France, the Holy Roman Empire, and Muscovy. Swedish historians seldom looked into the broader developments, and most researchers elsewhere did not take the earlier wars of Gustavus Adolphus into account, since their focus lay on the short period from 1630 to 1632. In short, despite centuries of research, much remains to be learned about Gustavus Adolphus and the Swedish army in the Thirty Years’ War. This is why I set out to write The Lion from the North: The Swedish Army during the Thirty Years War, now published by Helion. You can buy Volume One now here.

Wellington at Bay: A Game and a Book

By Garry Wills

My passion is to bring the smaller or lesser known actions to life using quality archived based research and I was planning this game at Salute 2020 in support of the publication by Helion of my new book, Wellington at Bay. The book describes the Battle of Villamuriel on 25 October 1812. This battle, while small, was the largest engagement of Wellington’s retreat from Burgos. This battle involved twice as many men as the better-known Battle of Villadrigo/Venta del Pozo two days before. The action is also notable because it featured a rematch between Maucune’s 5e Division of the Armée de Portugal and the 5th Division of the Anglo-Portuguese army, just three months after the latter broke the former at Salamanca. The battle involved approximately 11,500 men.

The book is the first full length account of the action and improves significantly on previous accounts in the campaign histories by Oman, Napier, and Divall. The aim has been to pull together archival sources from all four nations involved – British, French, Spanish and Portuguese – to build a coherent and balanced account of interest equally to historians and wargamers. All other accounts of this action are either brief or partial or both. The brief accounts are necessarily so because they form part of a larger campaign study. For example, Napier’s and Oman’s accounts are only three pages long. These accounts are necessarily incomplete and include the odd mistake, for example Oman incorrectly identified the Spanish infantry at Villamuriel as from Losada’s division. The partial accounts include the memoirs, diaries and letters of 27 participants which form a great part of this work. The challenge of this research was to weave together these accounts into a credible and balanced narrative. Thus, Béchaud is often referred to but is rarely given in full and this account provides translations of his key passages. The work is a detailed study of one day’s action in the 1812 campaign, with a view to extracting an improved understanding of how the armies fought in 1812.

The game uses 325 15mm figures. The French, British and Portuguese are Old Glory figures from Timecast, the Spanish are Essex and the Brunswickers are from Campaign Game Miniatures, all painted by me. The terrain is the excellent Hexon system from Kallistra and features the Great War trench sections repurposed as the dry Canal de Castilla, which the British and Portuguese infantry used to shelter from the French artillery fire. The buildings are a mixture of Hovels and JR Miniatures, while the road and river sections together with the areas of rough ground are also from Timecast. The trees are from K&M except for the willows which are from Noch, as are the vines. The bridge over the canal is scratch built from three MDF bases and some matchsticks. The game can be played in one of three scenarios which I have designed for Black Powder and General de Brigade; the initial morning attempt on the bridge by the French, which ended when the bridge was destroyed by the allies; the French assault on the fords at Calabazanos and Villamuriel in the early afternoon; and finally Wellington’s counterattack which pushed the French back across the river. The demonstration will be played using Black Powder with one or two rules selected and modified from the Clash of Eagles supplement, together with my own house rules for dealing with skirmishers.

The game and history have several points of interest, not least of which is the very large proportion of his infantry that Général de Division Maucune chose to deploy as skirmishers.

The book is now available from Helion and you will be able to see the game at Salute 2021.

A version of this article first appeared in Wargames Illustrated Bite Size #2

Buy ‘Wellington at Bay. The Battle of Villamuriel, 25 October 1812’ here.

Initial deployment 9.00 a.m.
The French 5e Division arrives.
The British 5th Division guards the bridge.
Spry’s Portuguese Brigade defends the ford at Calabazanos.
Skirmishers engage at Calabazanos.
Linan’s Spanish brigade looks on.
The bridge is destroyed as the French approach.
French cavalry arrive to surprise the 8th Cacadores.
Wellington’s counterattack begins.
The Battlefield today. Wellingtons counterattack was launched from these heights.

Bazaine 1870

A Miscarriage of Justice

By Quintin Barry

My first book, published by Helion in 2007, was a two volume history of the Franco-Prussian war of 1870-1871, a subject in which I have always had a profound interest. In volume 2 of that book I was particularly interested to explore the second phase of the war, after the battle of Sedan and the fall of the French Second Empire. That period has been covered much less thoroughly than the campaign that led up to Napoleon III’s surrender at Sedan. As the war began thereafter to spread to the rest of France, there immediately followed the siege of Metz, where the French Army of the Rhine, under Marshal Bazaine, was surrounded by the besieging Prussian army under Prince Frederick Charles.

   I went on to write a number of other books, some on the Franco Prussian war, and some on other subjects, but then came back to the history of the Army of the Rhine and the subsequent trial of its commander. As a lawyer, that trial interested me enormously, and so I began to research the book which has now been published by Helion under the title Bazaine 1870. Working on the book, it was not long before I realised that in my original history I had not done him justice, having in some instances followed the prevalent opinion of a number of other historians; as a result my analysis of him was unpardonably superficial.

   This became very apparent to me when I read Bazaine: Coupable ou Victime? This, written by Generals Edmond Ruby and Jean Regnault, was published in Paris in 1960. It is a hugely impressive demolition of the popularly held view of Bazaine. In now publishing my own account of the course of his career as it progressed towards the events of 1870, I hope that I have made good my previous lapses of judgement. Much of the contemporary literature about Bazaine, and his trial, was ill informed, politically motivated and unremittingly hostile. Some later historians, such as Sir Michael Howard, have produced a more balanced account; but not all, as for instance the American historian Geoffrey Wawro, previously the author of a brilliant history of the Austro Prussian War, who in his history of the war of 1870-1871seems to have swallowed the anti-Bazaine narrative hook line and sinker.

   The only comprehensive account in the English language of the tragic story of François Achille Bazaine was that written by Philip Guedalla in his vivid dual biography of Marshals Bazaine and Petain, published in 1943 under the title The Two Marshals. Guedalla succeeded in bringing to life the career of a man whose motivations remain to this day difficult to discern with any clarity. What was overwhelmingly clear, though, was just how unfairly Bazaine was treated. France needed a scapegoat for her shattering defeat in the Franco-Prussian War, and in Bazaine one was found ready to hand. For surrendering Metz he was tried for his life on military charges devised by the first Napoleon, enraged by the surrender by General Dupont at Baylen in 1808 during the Peninsular War. The transcript of the lengthy proceedings, held in the Grand Trianon at Versailles, is of absorbing interest. Looking at Bazaine’s decisions during his command, I have no doubt that his conviction (the death sentence was commuted to one of imprisonment) was monstrously unjust, and I am glad to have had the opportunity of setting the record straight.

‘Bazaine 1870. Scapegoat for a Nation’ is now available to buy here.

https://www.helion.co.uk/military-history-books/bazaine-1870-scapegoat-for-a-nation.php

Rebellious Scots to Crush

By Andrew Bamford

There is something of a contradiction in the ’45 – the last, and perhaps best-known, of the Jacobite Risings – now that serious history has moved away from seeing in it yet another round of an England versus Scotland struggle lasting unbroken from William Wallace to Nicola Sturgeon.

On the one hand, it was indisputably an integral part of the wider European struggle known as the War of the Austrian Succession, which had itself subsumed the pre-existing Anglo-Spanish War of Jenkin’s Ear and which also encompassed not one but two Silesian Wars. My previous book on the ’45, The Lilies and the Thistle, looked at this aspect by exploring the French involvement in the Rising and the activities of the small but significant number of French troops to fight in the British Isles. On the other hand, though, the Rising, and the response to it, was very much a matter of local concerns and it was these concerns, far more so than national or international dynastic politics, that dictated allegiances when the arrival of the Stuart heir in Scotland forced people to choose sides. Had a locality done well out of the new regime under the Hanoverian dynasty, now in its second generation on the throne, or had there been stagnation that made people ripe for a change? Was the local magnate committed to one side or the other by family involvement in past Risings – or, conversely, were they showing loyalty to George in 1745 as a way of regaining what father had lost by backing James in 1715 or 1719? Or, perhaps, was the real fear for some not the Jacobites marching out of the north, but the French waiting at Dunkirk in the hope of slipping across the Channel while the British Army was looking the other way? After all, Cornwall raised not one but two regiments in the emergency, and Penzance and Falmouth are a long way from the Highlands!

Original grenadier cap of Granby’s 71st Foot (Belvoir Castle Collection; photographs © Andrew Cormack)
Included in the colour plates section are front and back views of this cap and of a second original example from another of the ‘Noblemen’s Regiments’, Harcourt’s 76th Foot. As well as detailing the raising, composition, and service of these regiments, Andrew Cormack’s chapter lays to rest a number of misconceptions surrounding their uniforms.

One of the intentions with Rebellious Scots to Crush, therefore, was to look at these local concerns by means of case-studies of the different regiments and companies that were raised in different parts of the British Isles to meet the Jacobite threat. Some remained under the control of local county associations, although in reality this often made them the tools of the local Whig gentry, while others were temporarily taken, thanks to political jobbery, into the ranks of the regular forces with all the perks that that entailed. Many of these units – the ‘Blues’ volunteers, and the so-called ‘Noblemen’s Regiments’ taken into the line – were of rather questionable military value, but looking at how they were raised, paid for, organised, uniformed and equipped, gives us a valuable insight into how the mid-Georgian state responded to the emergency, and by consulting local and family papers a great deal of new information has been brought to the fore.

In Scotland, meanwhile, the immediate proximity of the Jacobite threat and a far more divided country – after all, England gave Charles a single weak regiment; Scotland gave him an army – made for a rather different, and much more confused, response. The situation in Edinburgh was symptomatic of this, with an existing paramilitary force supplemented by units forming to meet the threat but each with their own agendas as well. Thus divided, Edinburgh’s forces failed to prevent Charles from taking Scotland’s capital. In the Western Highlands, meanwhile, the Duke of Argyll and his cousin, Major General Campbell of Mamore, were able to form a far more coherent force but only by resorting – after initially being hamstrung by legislation intended to keep arms out of the hands of potential Jacobites – to methods not far removed from those by which other Highland magnates brought out their men for the Stuarts. One of the things that can frequently be forgotten in more politicised tellings of the events of 1745 and 1746 is the number of Scots who remained loyal to George II. When a title was chosen for this book, from the contemporary lyric sung to the tune of ‘God save the King’, it was with an eye very much to the word ‘Rebellious’ and not the word ‘Scots’: there were plenty of the latter who did their share of crushing, just as there were Englishmen who rebelled.

For all this focus on men raised, ‘for the duration’, as it were, it should not be forgotten that it was ultimately the regular British Army that crushed the Rising. Yet the redcoat is too often the lumpen and anonymous villain of the story of the ’45, and so a final objective in putting the book together was to provide some case-studies of the regular soldier’s experience of the Rising. The regiments that were available to meet the threat when Charles first landed were largely a sorry lot, whose poor discipline and training helped assure the Jacobites an early victory at Prestonpans. The troops brought back from Flanders, on the other hand, were veterans but were soon worn out by a winter campaign under Wade that saw much marching and little fighting and left his successor Hawley with a brittle army that broke at Falkirk. Only the arrival of spring, supplies, and Cumberland, shifted the balance and led to the victory at Culloden.

Volunteer of the Derbyshire Blues, 1745. (Artwork by Christa Hook © Helion and Company)
This reconstruction is compiled from a number of primary sources, including the archives at Chatsworth House which give details of the leatherwork and accoutrements that were ordered for these local troops.

This work has been a joint effort and some years in the gestation. As I began to assemble a team of writers, many of them past contributors to the From Reason to Revolution series, an early volunteer was the noted historian of the period, Colonel Hugh Boscawen. As a descendent of one of the men who raised a ‘Nobleman’s Regiment’, he would have been well placed to write about his ancestor, Viscount Falmouth, on this topic but he soon volunteered to contribute to the book more widely and to assist me with the front- and end-matter. Sadly, his worsening illness and untimely death prevented him from doing as he had wished. Our mutual friend Andrew Cormack kindly stepped in to write about the ‘Noblemen’s Regiments’ in his stead, and to he and all the contributors I owe my thanks, but by agreement of all concerned it is to Hugh that this title is dedicated.

As well as an introduction detailing the various sorts of troops available to oppose the Jacobites, contents comprise:

  • Jonathan Oates on the 13th and 14th Dragoons.
  • Mark Price on Pulteney’s 13th Foot.
  • Andrew Cormack on the ‘Noblemen’s Regiments’ (67th-79th Foot, 9th and 10th Horse).
  • Arran Johnston on the Edinburgh Trained Bands, City Guard, Volunteers, and Regiment.
  • Jenn Scott on the Argyll Militia.
  • Jonathan Oates on the Yorkshire Blues.
  • Andrew and Lucy Bamford on the Derbyshire Blues.

As a bonus, a detailed appendix provides the order of battle for all forces deployed against the Jacobites in the course of the campaign, including unit strengths where these are known.

You can buy the book here.

Kitchener: From Pariah to Hero

By Anne Samson

The name Lord Kitchener might not mean much to many today, however his face as the poster ‘Your country needs you’ is almost internationally recognised. At the turn of the 20th century Henry Horatio Kitchener was the British Empire celebrity of the day, yet for those of us growing up in South Africa, his name was (and for some still is) synonymous with butcher, scorched earth, and concentration camps. In Britain, for many he’s linked with ammunition shortages, and sending young men to be needlessly slaughtered on the battle fields of the Western Front.

With 53 biographies on the man, what more could there be to write about him? Most of them recount the same story in different words or focus on a particular encounter he had with individuals such as his five-year conflict with Viceroy of India Lord Curzon, his reliance on sword-arm Ian Hamilton, disagreements with Lords French and Haig and his failure at the War Office. The most comprehensive, detailed and balanced biography has to be that by John Pollock. So where does Kitchener: The Man not the Myth fit in? Especially as there’s a book similarly entitled, Kitchener: The Man Behind the Legend by Philip Warner. While Warner has tried to understand the personality behind the man known as Kitchener, K of K or simply K, he has kept to the traditional themes covered in previous studies, none of which answered a question I had stumbled upon when completing my thesis between 1998 and 2004: why did Kitchener not want to go to war in East Africa in 1914 and 1915?

Cyprus Survey Staff 1883

Superficially, this question was answered for my thesis using Pollock and a few others: Kitchener owned a coffee farm in, what is today, Kenya and had been involved in Zanzibar Boundary Commission having actually walked the land. A subsequent discovery of correspondence with General Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien about his appointment to command the forces in East Africa suggested there was far more to Kitchener’s anti-war position than self-preservation of his farm. Trying to reconcile my perceptions of Kitchener with the man who stood his ground on the East Africa campaign resulted in the discovery of a personality hitherto unexposed and unexplored in the existing biographies.

While most biographers tend to regard Kitchener as a complete man, that is the same at the end of his career as at the start of his career showing a consistency of action and behaviour over time, in Kitchener: The Man not the Myth, I have explored the development of the man, how he learnt from past experiences, the challenges he faced in being a British citizen but not of the establishment or culture. It is only in understanding how much of an outsider Kitchener was in the British Army that one can appreciate his decision-making and actions. As with all human beings, he had faults but it’s how he managed these to achieve what he did that turned him from being a pariah in my books to a hero.

War work

Researching Kitchener, although straightforward in the sense of reading as many of the existing biographies as possible and focusing on the ‘glossed over’ statements alongside some archival investigation to clarify earlier interpretations of statements and views, presented some difficulties in terms of insight. While most biographers infer Kitchener’s dislike of women and insistence on having unmarried men on his staff, the sources presented a different picture. The result is a section on Kitchener’s women to compliment that on Kitchener’s ‘band of boys’. His encounter with Millicent Fawcettt in South Africa over the concentration camps and his relationships with his nieces, one being Fanny Parker, sheds interesting light on his attitude to the suffrage movement and use of women in war. Another challenge was presented by his seeming aloofness and sulking when things did not go his way contrasted with the number of occasions subordinates were surprised by tears running down his cheeks. His foresight in using and embracing technology was an unexpected discovery as was his linguistic ability, and attitude towards religion and the use of indigenous forces. Kitchener’s clear sense of priority and allegiance to his monarch and his views on how an army should be run led to him being misunderstood on many an occasion, sometimes with unfortunate and sad consequences such as the death of Hector MacDonald.

It’s worth saying this book is not a military study. While the Sudan campaigns and the 1899-1902 war in South Africa including Paardeberg are mentioned, they are not discussed in detail as other more qualified authors have done this. Whether Kitchener was right in reforming the India Army and his ensuing conflict with Curzon has also been left to others more qualified. What Kitchener: the man not the myth does is provide alternative interpretations for his actions and extract from these events what Kitchener learnt on his route to being asked to fill the role of Secretary of State for War. His anomalous position as a civilian in authority alongside not relinquishing his military role, in what Prime Minister Herbert Asquith described as an ‘experiment’ provides evidence of the breadth of skill and knowledge Kitchener was seen to have in Britain’s time of need, yet his very strengths led to his fall from grace despite this experiment and his achievements.

A relaxing golf

As with all studies, more questions have been raised. For myself, these concern the East Africa campaign of World War One and the role of railways in the African campaigns. For others, I hope this new insight into Kitchener will lead scholars to consider his and other senior military officials of the time’s military actions in new lights.

Kitchener close up – Horse Guards

Dr Anne Samson is a specialist of World War One in Africa, with a particular focus on British East, Central and Southern Africa. She runs the Great War in Africa Association (https://gweaa.com) and has numerous publications to her name on the African campaigns. These, together with talks she’s presented, are listed on her website http://www.thesamsonsedhistorian.wordpress.com

You can buy ‘Kitchener: The Man not the Myth’ here.

Making a Cannon

By Jonathan Davies

“Tell them, whatever you do, don’t try and make a cannon.” That is the polite version of what my son said to me when I told him I was writing this blog. The project has taken twice as long and cost twice as much as I thought but it has also been fascinating and produced something beautiful and permanent. The following should still be considered a warning rather than an encouragement.

The project was the consequence of my retirement and a small windfall. I had led a re-enactment group for almost 20 years and had decided to carry on but on a much smaller scale. The focal point of the new ‘gun company’ was to be a cast bronze cannon from the reign of Henry VIII. This was a period of history where there are currently few re-enactment groups and plenty of excellent venues.

The Barrel

With limited funds we decided that it was far better to produce an accurate version of a smaller gun rather than a poor copy of a larger. Only major national museums, such as the Royal Armouries in the UK and the Vasa museum in Sweden could afford to produce large pieces of bronze ordnance. A steel barrel inserted into a fibreglass shell, although economical and practical, did not appeal to our sense of authenticity.

On simple grounds of cost and practicality the gun could only be a falconet, one of the smallest contemporary guns. The first gun we investigated was in the Musee de l’Armee. It was octagonal in form, some 1.06m long weighing 25.4kgs. Its shape, proportions and date, (ca1510), would suit our plans but we hoped to find a rather larger gun. The search led us to two bronze falcons held in the collection of the Royal Armouries, at the Tower of London and Fort Nelson. Both were early guns of octagonal form. With the approval of the Royal Armouries staff we made detailed measurements and drawings of both guns.

Comparison of key proportions of comparable faceted falcons and falconets.

TypeDateLocationOriginBoreLengthCalibre
FalconCa 1500Ft NelsonGenoa63mm2.54m40
Falcon1540TowerFlemish?58mm2.31m39
Falcon1520Ft NelsonGenoese66mm3.05m46
FalconetCa 1526GlasgowScottish54mm1.71m32
Falconet1510ParisFrench32mm1.06m31
Falconet2019BirminghamIlkeston46mm1.67m36
An early 16th century Genoese falconet had a diameter of 46-47mm (1.8in) and would use a ball weighing one Italian libra. The later English falconets had a bore of two inches (51mm).

It was the falcon in Fort Nelson xix-14 which particularly took our fancy. The heraldry would suggest that it was cast prior to 1503. Renato Ridella suggests that the letter G, cast around the touch hole was the initial of the Genoese gun founder Gregorio I Gioardi, who died in 1518. Our gun would for obvious reasons have a cast D, in carefully researched Lombardic script. It would also have two shields on the facets as did the original. The cross of St George was used by Genoa and it seemed appropriate for us as well. My son was able to produce a falconet version of the design conforming to contemporary proportions.

The process of casting required the making of a precise two-part pattern. The mould would be horizontal but slightly tilted to ensure a free flow of metal into all corners of the mould. Ben Shutt a young pattern-maker was responsible for making the wooden pattern and a local foundry took on the responsibility for casting. The first gun was cast at 1.15pm on 1 February 2019 by a well-drilled group of seven men, the whole process taking little more than two minutes. Unfortunately, it soon became apparent that the core had slipped and that the thickness of metal at the breech was in no way uniform. This was a common contemporary problem even in a gun cast vertically. The gun was unsafe and could not be proceeded with. It was therefore back to the factory for the gun to be recast. With a new gun it was now down to a firm in Leighton Buzzard to drill a perfect bore.

The gun was cast with additional material around the trunnions in order to avoid cracking during casting. The facets of the gun, the heraldry and the mouldings all required considerable fettling, using files and cold chisels to produce the correct finish. It was important to avoid using modern tools as we wanted to replicate the original finish. Several visits to the Fort Nelson falcon and detailed photographs enabled us to establish exactly what the finish on the gun should be. Hundreds of hours have now been expended in this fettling process but the result is a beautiful gun.

This work revealed numerous small flaws, especially on the upper surface. Two small holes, filled with a sand/bronze mix were found, one near the touch hole and the other on the breech moulding. We decided that before proofing we should investigate the integrity of the barrel using X-rays. There were no voids in the casting, there were a few patches where the density of material varied. The horizontal casting was bound to produce such issues.

Proofing the gun presented significant problems. The Birmingham Proof House were unable to proof such a long-barrelled gun on its Birmingham site. Now for our very own Catch 22. You can’t hire a field to proof a gun without insurance and you can’t get insurance until your gun is proofed! Fortunately, I had a friend who owned a large field just south of Bristol. This is where the gun was eventually proofed, by two Proof House technicians, on what was one of the wettest days of the year. It did make a lovely bang. Result!

All this could only have been achieved with the commitment and hard work of Tom and Tim as well as the arcane skills of manufacturing firms both old and new.

The Fort nelson Falcon is in the centre of this photo. As you can see it is a very fine form without the reinforcements that will appear later. The polygonal design is associated with early cannons from c. 1500-1560, cast in France, Flanders, England and Italy.
Tom’s 3D version of the falconet using contemporary proportions and shape to produce a beautifully elegant design. His detailed engineering drawings were essential for the pattern maker to produce a precise model.
The pattern was very, very big. It was so precisely made that there was virtually no visible ‘seam’ when it was cast.
The gun was cast horizontally in sand. The mould was held together with a large number of heavy weights. Some 120kgs of bronze was poured of which over 80kgs constituted the cannon itself. It was an exciting and tense moment for everyone.
The gun as it came out of the foundry after the removal of the waste from the casting. The exterior was still very rough and required hundreds of hours of work by Tim and Tom.
The proofing was not an administrative technicality but a real test of all the work up to that point. It used a 4oz. proofing charge. I would have liked to have fired a few more rounds but the weather precluded it.
Not the final state of the barrel but most of the hard work has been done to clean up the casting, the mouldings and heraldry. Contemporary paintings show the barrels in their true colour, which contrasts with the muted greens of museum examples. In bright sunshine the barrel shines like a mirror!

Fallschirmjäger! A collection of first-hand accounts and diaries by German Paratrooper veterans from the Second World War

By Greg Way

I have been interested in the Second World War from an early age. I grew up surrounded by people who experienced the war, family members, family friends and neighbours. My child play involved toy soldiers, military vehicles and planes. My books were amongst others, Action Annual and Commando comic books. Wartime films and documentaries were regularly on the TV. In my picture books Germans were often portrayed as faceless enemies. At an early age I wondered why I never heard or read war stories from the German point of view.

Oberfeldwebel Redhammer from Fallschirmjäger Regiment.2 was a well decorated Senior NCO and a veteran of the Crete campaign. This Regiment features heavily in the book.

I was a child when I first heard the words ‘German Paratrooper’ in ‘Dad’s Army’, a 1970s British TV sitcom about a Home Guard unit defending a coastal town in southern England against a possible German invasion during WW2. I thought nothing more about them!

I first read the words ‘German Paratrooper’ as a youngster in a 1970s Commando comic book story but thought nothing more about them. I first saw a ‘German Paratrooper’ as a child but he was 5cm tall, made of plastic and part of my toy soldier collection. I never knew what he was and thought nothing more about it. These and many other insignificant references to ‘German Paratroopers during my childhood probably influenced my interest in the future.

Fast forward to the 1990s and I chanced upon a twenty-year-old modelling magazine featuring a long article about ‘German Paratroopers’ and for the first time I read about their exploits at places such as Eben Emael in 1940, Crete in 1941 and Monte Cassino in 1944. This was the first time I read the word ‘Fallschirmjäger’! I was thoroughly intrigued by these airborne operations and ground campaigns, the courageous offensive feats and tenacious defensive actions, some of which have gone down in the annals of military history. I wanted to learn more about the men of this elite formation!

Volker Stutzer with his copy of the book. He was a late war conscript who fought in Pomerania in February 1945

The internet at that time was in its embryonic stage with only a handful of military forums and web pages but it allowed like-minded enthusiasts from all over the world to communicate their interests. One fellow enthusiast asked if I would like to write to a German Paratrooper veteran. He provided me with an address in Germany and I wrote a letter asking if he would share his experiences during the war. Not only did the veteran send me reports from his wartime service but he also put me in touch with other veterans, who were willing to share their experiences of training, combat, capture and captivity. Within a few months I had collated quite a few personal reports, with a personal perspective of many battles and campaigns.

With this growing collection of first-hand accounts, I toyed with the idea of a book as a permanent record of these personal wartime experiences, an idea welcomed by the veterans. I hoped this book would appeal to the professional historian, military enthusiast and the casual reader alike.

Erich Beine, Fallschirmjäger officer and recipient of the Knights Cross from the Luftlande-Sturmregiment, a formation that features in the book.

Fast forward to 2018 and after almost twenty years the book was accepted by Helion and Company who were excited about its historical value and potential appeal to the military history community.

The book does not cover the tactical level or military leadership but the written experiences of 19 Fallschirmjäger veterans from their perspective and in their own words. They are first-hand accounts of bravery, determination and adversity and describe the horror and inhumanity of war but also moments of humanity and the light-hearted moments experienced by soldiers the world over in times of war.

Oral histories like these now belong to an ever-decreasing number of elderly veterans but they create an important historical record of their military service during the Second World War.

You can buy the book now here.

What’s Forthcoming in our From Reason to Revolution series

By Series Editor Dr Andrew Bamford

The year 2020 sees a number of new developments as the From Reason to Revolution series continues to grow. Some of our new releases follow on from themes already developed within the series and will complement existing titles on such topics as the Seven Years War, American War of Independence, French Revolutionary Wars, and Napoleonic Wars. We are also continuing our expansion into maritime history with several titles focusing on naval actions across the era. Fans of uniform books will welcome a new study of Austrian cavalry 1792-1815 by Enrico Acerbi and Andras Molnar, sumptuously illustrated by Bruno Mugnai, as well as the second volume of David Wilson’s heavily-illustrated trilogy on the Danish army in the Napoleonic Wars.

2020 also marks the 275th anniversary of the tumultuous events of 1745 which saw the last pitched battles fought on British soil, and we will be marking this with a number of titles and events. The French victory at Fontenoy in May 1745 helped set the scene for the Jacobite Rising that began in the autumn and will be covered in the first volume of Mike McNally’s two-part study of Maurice de Saxe’s conquest of the Netherlands; the second volume, due for 2021, will cover the lesser-known battles of Rocoux and Lauffeld. Moving on to the Jacobite Rising itself, the prolific Jonathan Oates takes a look at the sieges of the ’45, an aspect often forgotten in favour of the dramatic battles, but of crucial importance. In the past, we have published several titles looking at aspects of the Jacobite forces so we now look to redress the balance by looking at the soldiers who opposed them. Peter Brown’s general study of the Army of George II, beautifully illustrated by Patrice Courcelle, covers the whole of that monarch’s reign, from 1727 to 1760, whilst series editor Andrew Bamford has brought together a team of contributors to take a more focused look at the forces who opposed the Jacobites, and, in particular, on the troops raised in both England and Scotland specifically to combat the Rising. All of these books will be launched in time for our extra series conference on the ’45 organised in conjunction with the Battle of Prestonpans (1745) Heritage Trust, the British Commission for Military History, and the Society of Army Historical Research. This will take place at Prestonpans itself as part of the 275th commemorations of the Jacobite victory, and will address all aspects of the campaigns of 1745 and 1746. All being well, we hope to have the proceedings of the conference ready to launch in time for the commemorations at Culloden in April 2021.

Moving on to later topics, the end of the year will also see us launch a fascinating study of the Damas Legion, one of the émigré units that fought on in exile against the reign of Terror; co-authored by Alistair Nichols and Hughes de Bazouges, the book’s title, For God and King, sums up the motivation of these men. Moving into the Napoleonic era, we will be using our illustrated Falconet format to take a more focussed look at some of the smaller actions of the Peninsular War, beginning with a study by Garry Wills of the 1812 Battle of Villamuriel. Garry is a veteran wargamer, and his book includes details of how this important rear-guard action can be recreated on the tabletop. Finally, we also continue to cater for naval enthusiasts, with Quintin Barry writing on the 1781 Battle of the Chesapeake and Paul Martinovich delivering a biography of Sir Pulteney Malcolm.

Confessions of a Female Wargamer

By Carole Flint

There are some hobbies where women generally fear to tread. Angling used to be one of them, but that has changed a lot in the last decade or so, and contact sports like Rugby is another, but that has also changed. Wargaming is, however, still  an area where women are very much the minority. Why should that be? Well, I can only speak for myself, but I’ve been playing with toy soldiers since I was small. I have loved swashbuckling and adventure stories for even longer.

Let’s take a step back to the dim past, or the 1960s as some of us call it. I was always a solitary child with few friends. I was shy and I found it hard to open up to others. Consequently I took refuge in reading. Luckily, I was a good reader from an early age and I read voraciously. When I was in my first year at primary school, the teacher read us “The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe”, which I loved, and I went on to read the other books in the series. I liked that the female characters were given prominent roles, although I much preferred Jill Pole and Polly Plummer to the Pevensie children. However, I discovered the “Swallows and Amazons” books shortly after, thus engendering my first literary crush, the formidable Nancy Blackett, someone who I really wished I could be. I also sought out various stories mentioned in the books, such as the “Ingoldsby Legends”, which seemed to spark the romantic swashbuckling instincts of Titty Walker a lot. However, I found the language of that book tough going.

Anyway, I read widely and preferred exciting stories to anything else, apart from History. I absolutely loved History.

Wargaming arrived when I was around 11. My father brought home Don Featherstone’s “War Games” from the library one week. After reading it, he went out and bought a box each of Airfix Desert Rats and Afrika Korps and a couple of tanks models, which were pretty random, being a Tiger and a T-34. The British got the T-34. As an aside, just think how different the war might have been if the British had actualy had T-34s in 1942. Anyway, it wasn’t too long before the dining table was turned into the North African desert and I was roped in to play games of soldiers. I enjoyed this hugely, having sat through the usual Sunday afternoon TV fare of black and white war films for years.

My father also brought home Charles Grant’s “The War Game”, a book that impressed me much more, because the pictures looked so good with all those massed ranks of soldiers. We never got to play any of those games, though, not having access to any 18th century figures.

Time marched on, though, and in my teens other things took prominence, underground music and being a hippy, mostly, but I never lost my love of history and adventure stories. The next big thing for me was one of the most important literary influences on my wargaming life; Tolkien’s “Lord Of The Rings”. This gave me my second great literary crush, the Elven Lady Galadriel. She was POWERFUL. People loved and feared her. She wielded Elven magic. She ticked all the boxes for me.

Of course, I was reading lots of other fantasy stuff too, and inevitably this led on to Dungeons and Dragons, a game I embraced as a student. Of course, life took over, including getting a job, growing up and having a family. Games went to the back of the queue. However, when my son was growing up, he developed an interest in games, initially via the MB Games Heroquest, which we bought him for Christmas one year, and then Warhammer Fantasy and later on 40K. I painted up endless Elves, Goblins, Space Marines etc and helped him build scenery and played in his games too. Then, as these things often seem to do, he moved on to teenage rugby and playing bass in a band, and the Warhammer stuff ended up getting sold.

So, what got me back into gaming? The simple answer is Boredom. My life was all about work. I was a manager in a large IT Services company and I was drained by work and I needed to get away from reality. Pretty much out of nowhere, I started looking online at wargaming stuff, just to see what the hobby was like in the present day. I was amazed at the abundance of rules, figures, vehicles etc, and also at the breadth of games one could play. When I took voluntary redundancy from work-related stress, I became very bored indeed and one day, on a whim, I went shopping online. Before long, I was painting up PSC British and German infantry and tanks with the aim of playing solo games, but I needed rules. I was drawn to the idiosyncratically-titled “I Ain’t Been Shot, Mum” and bought the rules. I suddenly had structure. I put armies together, I played a few games, but I wanted more. I went shopping mad. I bought the Field of Glory: Renaissance rules, because I’ve always liked the Pike and Shot period, and I bought and painted Louis XIV and William of Orange armies from Lurkio. Unhappily, I didn’t like the rules, so I moved on to other things, specifically another TFL set of rules, Sharp Practice, which I was able to play at Crusade in Penarth with Richard Clarke himself running the game. I was hooked. Before long, I had the rules and two Peter Pig 15mm Union and Confederate armies. I played solo, but I also roped my partner in for a few games, but I had the bug now and I was widening my purchases. I discovered Ground Zero Games and bought loads of 15mm Sci Fi troops. Why? I just liked them. That was reason enough. I started exploring the imaginary nations concept, remembering my love of Charles Grant’s book. I started a blog, basically so I could write about my chosen imagi-nations, based on Syldavia and Borduria in the Tintin graphic novels of Hergé. I’d been an avid viewer of the TV cartoons in the 60s and we had had the books in French at school. Obviously, I needed armies for this too. Using Sharp Practice as my ruleset, I put together armies for both countries using Essex 15mm Seven Years’ War Austrian, French and Prussian figures.

Of course, eventually I had to start playing games against real (and willing) opponents, so I joined a local wargaming club, after visiting their annual show for a couple of years running, and now I get to play all kinds of games against real friendly opponents. It was at one of these shows that I met someone who is a real pioneer in women’s wargaming, Annie Norman of Bad Squiddo. Needless to say, I think of her as a real friend now and I have lots and lots of her excellent figures.