âFrom an engineering perspective, the efficiency of Vaubanâs vaunted attack was eroded by the intransigence of the artillery - the gunners naturally contended the reverse. Without expertise in both areas, impartial observers were forced to agree with one contemporaryâs sensible opinion that âthe lack of cooperation between these two corpsâ was as much to blame as incompetence in either service.
The Allied artillery provided a frequent source of friction in their sieges, and this was further exacerbated by the mix of nationalities in the confederate force. At Kaisersweert in 1702, field deputy Geldermalsen complained of the gunners, âIt is a pity to see how slowly the gunners are working, they are my principal complaint, but in general I do not know if it is these four years of peace or the large number of new recruits, or new regiments, or because they are without a commander who would be able to discipline and reward them.â At the next siege, General Obdam continued to bemoan the poor quality of their gunners. Rapid turnover of personnel only exacerbated the confusion in the service. After Coehoornâs death in March 1704, Johan Wijnand van Goor briefly held the post of meester-generaal der artillerie before being killed later that year in front of the entrenchments of Donauworth on the Danube. The position of head of the artillery remained unfilled for the rest of the war, with the predictable result of further disputes among the artillery officers. When the colonel of artillery Willem Ijssel was wounded at Oostende in 1706, field deputy Goslinga complained of the resulting insubordination among the remaining gunners, while the siege commander Field Marshal Hendrik van Nassau, heer van Ouwerkerk lamented the resulting delays to battery construction. During the bombardment of the town of Dendermonde, located at the confluence of the Dender and Scheldt rivers, the English Lieutenant-General Thomas Meredith expressed exasperation with the Spanish bombardiers and some satisfaction with the Dutch, though these last abruptly decided to âwork [no] longer without being refreshedâ with bread, beer and brandy â he was forced to search for others with experience firing batteries. Later, at the more demanding siege of Tournai, we find the leaderless artillery officers clashing with the generals in charge of the approaches. The resulting squabbles began to create serious problems for the attackers as described by field deputy Goslinga:
The good of the service demands that we appoint a general of artillery; subordination is not very great in this corps, but it is above all necessary in order to prevent further squandering of our munitions; we have preached this need over and over to the [infantry] generals, and they follow it as long as we are there, but once we leave, things return to how they were before. Each general, low-ranking or high, competent or ignorant, acts as if he was a general of artillery. If the colonel [of artillery] or his subalterns donât obey them, the generals quarrel and accuse them of sparing ammunition at the expense of the lives of soldiers; they even say such things in the troopsâ presence, which can only have a very bad effect on their morale. These reasons will convince you, as they have me, that we must fill the vacancy.
A few days later Vegelin van Claerbergen confirmed the ill-effects of inter-service rivalries: âOur artillery are firing furiously here, and perhaps to little effect. The colonel [of artillery] blames the generals, and I do not know if either of them have gone too quickly, faster than the condition of the attack follows.â Little had changed by the siege of Mons several months later, where the engineers in their dispositions for the siege had to remind the infantry officers yet again to shell only those places that they had identified as targets. The Allied artillery, reluctant to accept engineering leadership and lacking the protection of a general of their own, proved as unmanageable for the engineers as the generals.
Engineers had one additional management challenge that complicated implementation of Vaubanâs efficient even further â the variable quality of the workmen. Getting the officers and gunners (and oneâs own engineers) to accept the chief engineersâ authority was not enough to assure an efficient siege, for the rank and file did the digging for the engineers, just as they manhandled the gunnersâ artillery pieces into position. Properly-constructed ramparts were only one cause for concern. The most serious problem was flight. Soldiers on guard duty had their weapons to reassure them, whereas the workmen â motivated primarily by money and drink â were armed only with digging tools. With mere pick and shovel to counter matchlock and bayonets, laboring soldiers often chaotically abandoned their works when sallying defenders approached, and sometimes even when they did not: ânothing is more common than for the workmen to take to their heels.â Focusing the troopsâ attention on constructing the trenches to the exclusion of thoughts about their own personal safety was a challenge for both officers and engineers alike. His parallels were of limited utility against sorties if the workers ignored them in their flight.
Vauban had recognized how this critical weakness impacted the efficiency of a siege. As a result he petitioned the King for independent sapper and miner brigades (rather than the individual companies incorporated in the Royal-Artillerie regiment), soldiers who would become experts in the dangerous task of advancing the trenches under enemy fire and undermining the garrisonâs works. Just as importantly, they would be trained to abandon the advanced trenches for the safety of the rear parallel in an orderly fashion. The best plans accounted for little without skilled workmen, and in 1672 he warned that his method for attacking a fortresses
demands intelligence both on the part of directors and workmen, I should add that we cannot hope to make the best use of it with those whom we usually employ in our sieges. They are naturally maladroit and surly; besides they are neither trained nor drilled to execute with precision the tasks to which they are assigned. It is, therefore, absolutely essential to form and train a special body of well-versed men, either drawn from several regiments or raised separately, as a corps of engineers.
More than a decade later Vauban reminded Louvois of the impossibility of conducting orderly siege attacks with men âthe majority of whom I do not know, who do not know me, and who absolutely refuse to listen to me.â His demands rebuffed yet again, Vauban warned of the dire results if his twenty-year old petition continued to be rejected:
as the King will not make the company of sappers that I have proposed to him many times, it must be accepted that we will always have a lot of engineers and many more soldiers and officers, and that it will always cost him more time and money to reduce the places; beyond which from the very first day of the siege it will end up costing me my life, because I am forced to be almost constantly in the trenches due to a lack of skilled people, which is killing me with fatigue and exposes me to death one hundred times every day.
After complaining of a shortage of skilled miners at Breisach in 1703, he repeated at the end of his career the same request for three regiments of artillery and a separate company of sappers. Turning to the younger generation, his treatise dedicated to Burgundy reminded the royal prince of how his many sieges had suffered from a lack of trained men and then explained that sapper companies officered by engineers could quickly learn the trench skills that would spend up the siege attack and at the same time decrease the number of casualties among the engineers, the artillerists and the common soldiers alike â yet another example of efficient improvement. But his requests were continually rejected for being too costly. Here as well Vauban was unable to eliminate the engineersâ reliance on others, a fundamental source of inefficiency. Surprisingly, his complaints sound quite similar to La Vergneâs lamentation of the Austrian service just a few years earlier:
the majority of officers, no less than the soldiers, know nothing of what they must do; this always creates a great confusion in the approaches, it being impossible for the engineer to provide everyone with assistance when there are 500 or 600 men to command, being unable to tell each one what they need to do...this has happened to me many times despite all the precautions I have taken.
The concern for efficiency once again lost out to the short-term desire to save money.
Although participants in Spanish Succession sieges rarely commented upon the skills of the workmen, when they did it was in the form of complaints about their tendency to run or slink away in the dark, particularly in long, difficult sieges. The dispositions for the trenches at Mons had to remind the workers yet again to only leave their trenches with the permission of the supervising engineer. The English Lieutenant-Colonel John Blackadder reported his difficulties at Douai in 1710:
I find the command far less troublesome when the regiment is in [the trenches on guard duty] than with the workers; there is always a great deal of confusion at any business of that nature in the night; and so it was yesternight. We were to make up the lodgement on the other side of the outer fossé [i.e. the advanced ditch at the bottom of the glacis], which we had been chased from the night before; and indeed our workmen did their business very ill, for the French came out several times with great noise on purpose to frighten the workmen, and it had the effect, for they ran away so that it was impossible to get the third part of them kept together. However, there was a lodgement made. These commands are exceedingly troublesome, because of the vexation it gives an officer when his men do not do their duty.
The German engineer second-class Johan Landsberg echoed Blackadderâs frustration at keeping his own workmen together:
The enemies chased my workers away four times. Confusion reigned supreme! I say again...that a soldier is a coward when is working in the trenches, no matter how brave, he may be anywhere else; Iâve seen this many times. The enemies first sortie consisted of only ten or twelve troops and immediately my men ran away over the bridge of the advanced ditch. I sent a few sous-lieutenants to retrieve them which they did, and I put them back to work. Other times the enemies had only to scream âKill! Kill!â and my men would flee yet again. I tried to encourage them telling them that it was nothing. I even posted grenadiers as guards and I stayed with the workers in the trenches myself, but I was the only one to stay put, and when they returned to the trench and I berated them, they told me that they had neither enough cover nor enough support, that a dozen grenadiers on the on the other side of the bridge was not enough to protect them. The sappers also take flight, and donât return for the rest of the night.
An engineer defending BĂ©thune reported several occasions where his small parties would charge at enemy lodgements shouting Tue! Tue!, only to see their opponents flee for safety. Proper supervision was critically important to a constant advance; once officers were killed or incapacitated, their troops often halted their assault under heavy enemy fire, or if working on lodgements or trenchworks fled for the safety of the rear trenches, or might simply put down their spades and refuse to work. Similarly, casualties among their compatriots might also frighten the workers, prompting one journalist at Aire to recount: âafter the first volunteers were killed or wounded, we could not find any more no matter how much money was offered.â The Allies encountered similar experiences at BĂ©thune and Aire, whose garrisons conducted frequent sorties. So traumatic were some sieges that some workers even deserted into the doomed towns in order to avoid the slaughter in the trenches. The unsuitability of those digging the trenches was yet one more item in a long list of uncontrollable factors that engineers had to manage in order to succeed.
The Vaubanian siege, as it was implemented, was not a model of mechanical efficiency. The scope of the engineerâs managerial challenge is best encapsulated in the initial goals Vauban set for himself in his 1672 work. His second chapter discussed a general list of the more prosaic faults in siegecraft that needed to be corrected, everything from failures of secrecy, camp security, proper investment, locating the artillery park, and proper line construction to assuring communication between the approaches. Such matters were critical to a siegeâs success, yet Vaubanâs vaunted three tactics had no relevance and Vauban could only hope to convince generals of the importance of proper conduct. In the next chapter Vauban then focused his attention on the faults committed in the trenches, the arena of warfare where the engineers exercised the most control. Here he identified eight mistakes commonly committed by French besiegers on the eve of the Dutch War: poorly-chosen attacks, a lack of quality siege materials, shortages of knowledgeable workmen, poorly-planned trenchworks, poorly-sited artillery, poorly-coordinated responses to sorties, a lack of knowledgeable and patient generals, and finally the weaknesses of the engineers themselves. Of these eight, none was under the complete control of either director-general or the commisaire-gĂ©nĂ©ral, much less the chief engineer at a siege. The choice of attacks saw the most progress towards engineering control, as the choice was usually dtermined by the engineer in the War of the Spanish Succession, though even here it was ultimately the responsibility of the commanding general. The siege materials were constructed and provided by the soldiers or conscripted peasants, the workmen were drawn from the rank and file of the infantry, the regimental officers were the only people with command authority over their men in the trenches and were hesitant to follow an engineerâs instructions, the artillery was its own independent corps, and the generals were beyond even Vaubanâs influence. The engineering corps itself was in many ways at the mercy of funding levels established by the State â Vauban could make few structural improvements to eliminate or educate âignorantâ and âincompetentâ engineers without additional money for recruitment, training and retention from the Crown. As a result, the variety of complicated tasks required in a siege demanded a wide range of skills that could only e met by experts in several different fields â engineers, gunners, miners, and sappers to name a few. These independent branches naturally struggled with each other for prominence, while the same tension could occur within each service among its own officers, particularly where the hierarchy was dimly elaborated or constantly changing. From his earliest experiences Vauban recognized the many inefficiencies that resulted, and was able to eliminate or neutralize a few of them in French service over the length of his career by receiving overall authority from the King himself, by carefully planning his siegeworks in advance and carefully managing their implementation, as well as by demanding technical competence in his subordinate engineers. His aptitude in all of these fields is well-evidenced, ranging from his recognition and perfection of ricochet fire and experimentation with stone-firing mortars to his concern with proper trench construction to his attempts to improve the morale of the infantry workmen with better pay and improved safety.
Vauban could not, however, enlarge the scope of the engineerâs authority to include other branches, nor could he convince Louis to fund a more permanent corps, nor could he manage the attack when he was no longer on site. The Allied engineers, for their part, lacked any kind of leader with the authority to lobby for their corps and protect their interests, and were rarely united long enough to present a united front in any case. French and Allied sieges in the Spanish Succession, therefore, suffered to different degrees from fragmented command. The engineers, the âexpertsâ of siegecraft, had the daunting task of coordinating the efforts of these many branches without authority. At the top of the chain of command, the chief engineer had to implement his geometrical trenches and lines of fire against a specific fortress using the artilleryâs gun crews, relying on military administrators to provide the necessary arms and munitions, counting on foot soldiers lured or coerced into digging the laid-out trenches, while manoeuvring against fellow engineers and other officers in order to convince the siege commander to follow his projected attack. When disputes arose among the engineers, or between the engineers and artillerists, the generals took control.â
- Jamel Ostwald, Vauban under Siege: Engineering Efficiency and Martial Vigor in the War of the Spanish Succession. Leiden: Brill, 2006. pp. 164-172.
Art is pulled from here.