Military Buckshot in the Mid-Eighteenth Century

Reenactors portray Maryland troops

Dear Reader,


Today, we are going to examine a particular type of ammunition used by eighteenth-century soldiers: buckshot. For those unfamiliar with the term, buckshot consists of smaller projectiles, which spread out after leaving the barrel of the weapon. It is often used in a shotgun today. In the eighteenth-century, German language speakers called this specialty ammunition Cartatschen-Patronen, which gives us the modern German term, Kartätschen-Patronen, a catch-all term for submunitions including grape-shot (Traubhagel).

It appears that while this type of ammunition was common amongst American, British, and French irregular forces, and it was utilized by American, Austrian, British, French and Russian regular troops as well. In the eighteenth-century, buckshot was used to help compensate for the smoothbore weapons in common use at the time. By firing more projectiles at the target, troops generated a larger wall of lead with which to damage enemy forces. Far from being an exclusively American innovation, this weapon was employed by multiple European regular armies. This post will examine the use of buckshot in the mid-eighteenth century. I want to thank Dr. Grzegorz  Podruczny for his advice and help with source material.

Most troops discussed in this post were not firing only buckshot, but rather a combination of both buckshot and musket ball ammunition. In English, this is called "buck and ball", (sometimes, "buck 'n' ball") ammunition.[1] Usually, this consisted of a regular cartridge with 2-3 buckshot attached to it. This would provide the best of both worlds: the larger ball could be effective at long ranges, while at 100 yards or less, the buckshot would begin to wound and mangle enemy soldiers. If you are wondering what one of these cartridges might look like, check out the artistic reconstruction below. With the round itself examined, let us look first at the use of buckshot in the Seven Years' War, and then during the American War of Independence.

A Provincial in Winter

This type of specialist round was employed by both sides in the French and Indian War. British officers believed that their French and Native Americans enemies exclusively used this type of ammunition. In October of 1757, a British officer recalled, "The enemy never fire a single ball, for they always load with six or seven smaller ones (which are called buck-shot) besides their usual musket-ball."[2] The same officer referred to being under buckshot fire as, "a dreadful shower."[3] By 1760, both the British and their provincial allies had followed suit. Describing a small engagement in Canada, John Knox reported that New England provincials, "advanced, very spiritedly, to the enemy, who were endeavoring to steal upon them; gave them a regular discharge of a brace of balls, besides buckshot from each piece, and sent them flying."[4] By the end of the war, it seems that both the British and Americans had begun to employ buckshot with increasing regularity. 

Austrian Reenactors 

At the start of the Seven Years' War Austrian infantrymen carried a total of 48 rounds of ammunition. Of those, twelve were buckshot rounds. It is unclear if these twelve rounds were buck and ball rounds (as pictured above) or specialized buckshot rounds designed to be loaded in addition to the regular round, as in the Russian practice (described below). Regardless, the Austrian army formalized ideas on use buckshot in their 1759 field manual. The Militär Feld-Regulament of 1759 indicated when facing enemy infantry, Austrian troops should use their buckshot rounds beginning at 100 yards, should definitely use them if enemy infantry attempted a bayonet attack. When facing enemy cavalry, the manual instructs the soldiers to reserve their buckshot fire until the charging horsemen have closed to 10 yards.[5]

Russian Infantrymen/Artillerymen of the Seven Years' War

In his 2008 book, Kiril Tatarnikov shows the Russian military issued buckshot cartridges to soldiers as standard relatively early. In 1715, Russian troops were issued 50 cartridges total, 30 will ball ammunition, and 20 with buckshot ammunition. [6] The Russian army of the Seven Years' War used buckshot to terrible effect at battles such as Zorndorf, Paltzig, and Kunersdorf. Indeed, the use of buckshot may help explain the incredible high casualties at battles like Zorndorf.  A Prussian recalled the battle of Zorndorf:

On our side, therefore, there were relatively little dead, but a great number of wounded. However, most of the wounded were able to convalesce with their regiments...every Russian infantryman loads a musket ball and an equal pack of buckshot. There are between 7-9 of these in a linen packet in the form of grapeshot. As a result of this, the Russians load quite slowly, as a Jäger loads his rifle. In the time it takes the Russians to load their weapons, the Prussians have fired three times. I address this only in passing. We have found signs of this buckshot in many of the wounded, because they bled freely, almost to death. I cannot say whether their balls are poisoned, but you have observed that the Russians even use heated shot to harm their enemies.[7]

Buckshot from archeology on the Kunersdorf battlefield. (Many thanks to Dr.
Grzegorz Podruczny for the image!)

Clearly, then, the Russians used a different sort of buck and ball ammunition, one where two distinct cartridges were loaded into the weapon. It is interesting that the Prussian soldier compares the additional time loading this ammunition to that of a Jägers' rifled weapon. After the Seven Years' War, Russian army would continue to use buckshot ammunition until the end of the Napoleonic Wars.[8] The British and fledgling American army would use this type of ammunition in the American War of Independence.

Reenactors portray American soldiers in the War of Independence

This ammunition was widely used by militiamen in the American War of Independence. When not using rifled weapons, militia troops increased their firepower and effectiveness through buck and ball ammunition.[9] Both Continental and militia troops used buck and ball ammunition at the Battle of Camden.[10] George Washington, possibly as a result of his experience in the French and Indian War, was a proponent of buck and ball ammunition. On October 6th, 1777, Washington circulated general orders that mandated, "Buckshot are to be put into all the cartridges that shall hereafter be made."[11] This decision came directly after the Battle of Germantown. Archaeology and documentary sources indicate that this order was indeed followed. The American predilection for buckshot continued into the War of 1812 era.

Soldier's Musket recovered from British shipwreck in St. Augustine, FL. 

The British, too, used buck and ball cartridges during the American War of Independence.[12] The musket above was photographed in a shipwreck near St. Augustine, Florida. Multiple American sources report suffering buckshot wounds when engaged with British regulars, particularly in the Southern Campaign of 1781. At the Battle of Guilford Courthouse, it is possible that both the Brigade of Guards and the 33rd Regiment were using this type of ammunition.[13] Although the British army never employed buck and ball as the standard ammunition, it appears that by the late war its use was quite common.

Thus, it would seem that buckshot was commonly used on many of the battlefields of the mid-eighteenth century. Rather than being a distinct practice unique to American backwoodsmen, the ammunition was used French troops in colonial Canada, and Austrian and Russians troops in Europe during the Seven Years' War. The American contribution to the use of buckshot ammunition was mandating its use, something that the British failed to do. It is an interesting coincidence that the two superpowers of the twentieth century, Russia and America, heavily employed buckshot during the eighteenth and early nineteenth-centuries. 

If you enjoyed this post, or any of our other posts, please consider liking us on facebook,  or following us on twitter. Finally, we are dedicated to keeping Kabinettskriege ad-free. In order to assist with this, please consider supporting us via the donate button in the upper right-hand corner of the page. As always:

Thanks for Reading,



Alex Burns



---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[1] Babits, Brenckle, and Howard, "Rifle Shot and Buck'n'Ball in the 1781 Southern Campaign," Paper presented to the 2005 Nathanial Greene Symposium.
[2] Knox, An Historical Journal, Vol 1, 54.
[3] Ibid, 91.
[4] Ibid, Vol 2, 280.
[5]Anon, Militär Feld-Regulament, articles 15, 18, and 19. (Manuscript is unpaginated).

[6] Kiril Tatarnikov, Русская полевая армия 1700-1730, (Moscow, 2008), 58. 
[7]Anon, Besondere Merkwürdigkeiten und Anekdoten aus Neudam in der Neumark, 29.
[8] Leo Bockeria, et al, "Russian war surgery in 1812," International Journal of Surgery, Vol 10, Issue, 10, 2012.
[9] Lawrence Babits, Devil of a Whipping, 13.
[10] Legg, et al, "Understanding Camden: The Revolutionary War Battle of Camden As Revealed Through Historical, Archaeological, and Private Collections Analysis," University of South Carolina Scholarly Commons, 2005.
[11] John Fitzpatrick (Eds), The Writings of George Washington, Vol 9, 313.
[12] Lawrence Babits, Devil of Whipping, 165n8.
[13] Lawrence Babits, Long, Obstinate, and Bloody, 166.

Reenactors and Wargamers: Representing Fear and Flight on Eighteenth-Century Battlefields

These men are not fleeing, nor is there concrete proof they are afraid

Dear Reader,

Today, we are going to examine a vital part of battlefield experience in the eighteenth century: fear and flight. Soldiers ran from eighteenth-century battles. Fear and intimidation, rather than powder or cold steel, were the greatest threats to the battle-plans of eighteenth-century commanders. Despite this, eighteenth-century reenactors rarely portray troops fleeing from the field of battle. At most events, reenactors maintain their geometric formations during the heat of battle, until one side calmly marches away from the battle. This is so ingrained in reenactor imagination that doing anything else provokes shock. I fled from a reenacted battle outside Fredonia, Wisconsin in 2014, and the chief officer looked up with surprise and asked, "what are you doing?" Over my shoulder, I replied, "I'm running away, it was a thing."

Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a picture of reenactors running away?
These guys aren't even running away, that is how hard it is.

Was it, though? Did troops frequently experience fear and flight on eighteenth-century battlefields? Once again, I stand on the shoulders of giants as I write this post. Christopher Duffy, Ilya Berkovich, Matthew Spring, David Blackmore, and many other historians have addressed this topic. Particularly, the essays by Andreas Bähr, Ilya Berkovich, and Marian Füssel in the edited volume Battlefield Emotions, 1500-1800 are worth a read.[1] What do primary sources tell us regarding fear on the battlefield? Did soldiers often speak about their fear? Did they admit to fleeing in the face of the enemy? How should reenactors and wargamers represent these emotions and actions?

Perhaps unsurprisingly, very few soldiers emphasized fleeing in the face of the enemy, particularly during combat. Garrett Watts, a North Carolina Militiamen, stands out as admitting that he was one of the first to flee at the Battle of Camden:

I can state on oath that I believe my gun was the first gun fired not withstanding the orders: for we were close to the (enemy) army, who appeared to maneuver in contempt of us, and I fired without thinking except that I might prevent the man opposite from killing me. The discharge and loud roar soon became general from one end of the lines to the other. Amongst other things, I confess I was amongst the first that fled. The cause of that I cannot tell, except that everyone I saw was about to do the same. It was instantaneous. There was no effect....encouragement to fight... I threw away my gun, and reflecting, I might be punished for being found without arms. I picked up a drum, which gave forth such sounds when touched by the twigs I cast it away...[2]

Carl Roechling's depiction of the Saxon flight in the Battle of Hohenfriedberg

Veterans and military theorists often asserted that everyone in combat felt the effects of fear. French military author Comte Lancelot Turpin de Crissé attempted to describe the nature of fear on the battlefield:

The general must understand his soldiers and go further: the best countenance does not always contain the strongest heart. The coward often feigns courage, but in the moment of combat the veil falls, and the quiet man proves himself a hero. It is not that healthy fear at this moment is reprehensible, men must be allowed a natural shudder in the face of uncertain destruction. The coward gives himself up to his fear, the false hero tried in vain to conceal fear, the hothead, who sees nothing, cannot feel them, and the true soldier represses fear: a good general uses them all to advantage.[3] 

If all soldiers felt fear, how did some of these men processes this experience? It seems that soldiers often felt great fear at the start of a battle, particularly if they were under an artillery bombardment. Once infantrymen began to shoot, or cavalry troops were engaged in combat, was often temporarily replaced by a sense of excitement or detachment. Once the battle developed, fear returned, and men on both sides began to melt away, until a crisis developed, which led to a mass break. Troops on the fleeing side would stream back in the direction that had initially marched from, often will little order.  

How do our sources describe this model of fear and flight in combat? Veterans such as Ulrich Bräker asserted that the greatest moments of fear were before the battle: 

"the powerful shots from Imperial batteries slammed through our regiment, which stood in the middle line. Up to this point, I had hoped to avoid a battle. Now though, I saw no prospect of flight behind me, or to the right or left... my courage had completely vanished, and I would like to have crawled into the earth. I saw a similar fear, noticeable by a sort of deathly paleness, on all faces, even those who had previously bragged of their courage.[4]

Artillery bombardment, particularly when soldiers had no means of replying, was especially terrifying, as Bräker seems to indicate above. Troops frequently attempted to dodge out of the way of artillery fire, and generals who did not make an effort to shelter their waiting troops from artillery faced criticism.[5] 

Prussian soldiers flee 

 Bräker also noted that some soldiers began to drink their small stores of alcohol in order to deal with the stress of the artillery bombardment. Sometimes, soldiers would turn to other substances, or engage in bluster, in order to deal with the stress of combat. Ernst von Barsewisch, a young officer in the Regiment of Meyerinck, or IR 26, recalled of the Battle of Hochkirch,

I had the priviledge that early in the engagement a musket ball penetrated the peak of my hat near my head, and just a moment afterwards, a second ball hit the rear brim of the hat, knocking it from my head. I turned to the Von Hertzbergs [brothers, who were officers in IR 26] and said, "Gentlemen, should I put this hat on, if the Imperials want it? "Yes, indeed," they said, "that hat does you honor." The older von Hertzberg took his snuff tobacco tin in his hand and said, "Gentlemen, take a pinch of courage!" I stepped up to him, took a pinch, and said, "yes, here, we need courage." Von Unruh followed and the younger von Hertzberg brother took the final pinch. At this moment, the older von Hertzberg raised his pinch to his nose, and a musket ball slammed into his forehead. I was at his side, and he cried out, "Lord Jesus!" and turning, fell dead to the ground.[6] 

Revolutionary Troops engaged in combat

  Once the shooting began soldiers often experienced an odd sense of calm, or great excitement, but fear is not often recorded. Soldiers sometimes indicated that they had no fear of death, even in the heat of combat. Sgt. Roger Lamb recalled at the Battle of Guilford Courthouse:

I observed several bodies of Americans drawn up within the distance of a few yards. Whoever has been in an engagement well knows that, in such moments all fears of death are over. Seeing one of the guards among the slain, where I stood, I stopped and replenished my own pouch with the cartridges that remained in his; during the time I was thus employed, several shots were fired at me; but not one took effect. [7]

Urlich Bräker noted that his thoughts were, "in a state of excitement and heat" and that, "our native Prussians and Brandenburgers sprang upon the enemy like furies."[8] This description matches well with Lamb's account, above. Again, we see that during combat, if events were still in the balance, soldiers recalled that the activities of combat itself, not fear, dominated their minds. Once the battle was joined, then, soldiers appear to have felt slightly less fear, which would return at a crisis point in the battle.

Prussian Cuirassier pursuing fleeing French at Rossbach

Crisis points could begin in a relatively isolated way, and travel like lightning across an army.  The Battle of Gross-Jägersdorf in 1757, Russian officers observed that once the Prussians, "saw their comrades were running away, they believed it was high time for them to do the same. What an agreeable and entrancing spectacle it was!"[9] Another Russian at the same battle recalled a shout that a local victory had been achieved and that this restored life to troops who had been retreating: "Wherever this shout came from, it produced some undoubtedly good effects. The Second Grenadier Regiment found new stores of courage and went out to attack the enemy once again."[10]

In the later stages of the battle, fear seemed to affect more and more soldiers. Feldprediger [chaplain] Karl Daniel Küster, discussed the phenomenon of "freezing" and fear with the Prussian army in the Seven Years' War.

I have often spoken with both high and low ranking officers, as well as the brave enlisted men, regarding this so-called, "cannon-fever." They are all in one accord that only boastful liars have never felt horror in battle at the prospect of death. They also commented, and I have also noted, that this sense (of cannon-fever) spreads during the early, middle, and last stages of a battle. During the early stages, the strong men support the weak, and a general flight only cccurs when this disabling fear affects the morale of the majority of the army, and both the strong and weak flee together.[11]

Xavier della Gatta's depiction of the Battle of Germantown

Of course, this model does not fit all situations. Some soldiers, even at the opening and middle stages of the battle, felt fear, and wisely took steps to escape the danger they found themselves in. The 2nd Battalion of Light Infantry retreated precipitously from the American forces during the beginning of Battle of Germantown. Martin Hunter recalled, "This was the first time we had ever retreated from the Americans, and it was with the greatest difficulty that we could prevail upon our men to obey orders."[12] Bill Sartain of Butler's Brigade of North Carolina Militia, recalled at the Battle of Guilford Courthouse: "the British were so close that there was no chance for him to escape... [so] he lay there flat on the ground, pretending to be dead, in which he acted his part so well that the enemy did not think worth while even to give him a push with the bayonet..."[13] 

Having discussed fear on the battlefield, let us turn to the experience of flight. Sometimes, fear confronted men after the danger of combat had passed. Karl Daniel Küster, the chaplain encountered earlier, noted that at Hochkirch,

"the so-called cannon-fever or battle-shiver came over me in all of its power. But God graciously granted that this happened later, on the other side of the village of Kitlitz when the danger was almost over. I stood alone, near the regiment, and quickly, a dizzying fear overtook me, fright with trembling limbs, such that I could have been knocked over by a weak child."[14]

 When troops were already moving towards the rear, the appearance of cavalry could produce mass-panic. At Kunersdorf, Johann Jacob Dominicus, a Prussian veteran of IR9, recalled fleeing pell-mell, not during the battle, but when a party of Cossacks appeared during the retreat. In the course of this scene, he recalled, "everyone ran for himself."[15]  Soldiers sometimes recalled hunger and exhaustion as the most pressing thought during flight. Joseph Plumb Martin recalled after the, "rout" at Germantown, "I had now to travel the rest of the day, after marching all day and night before and fighting all morning. I had eaten nothing since noon the preceding day, nor did I eat a morsel till forenoon the next day, and I needed rest as much as victuals."[16] Clearly, being defeated was exhausting work.  Sampson Staniforth gives us a further window into this disappointment. After retreating from the Battle of Rocoux:

Night came on, but, the French still pressing upon us, we retreated all night, till we came near Maestricht. It rained very hard, being the 30th of September, and was exceedingly cold. Toward morning, being out of the reach of the French, we had orders to halt. We had no tents, and it continued raining: however, being well tired, I lay down on the wet ground, put my knapsack under my head, and soon fell fast asleep. In the morning we had orders to march and join the grand army... [we] did so without delay.[17]

Reenactors engaged in a mock fire-fight

 So: How might reenactors and wargamers do a better job representing fear and flight on eighteenth-century battlefields? Let us begin with reenactors. If you are an 18th-century reenactor, and you are standing stationary with no orders while under an artillery bombardment, display a considerable amount of agitation, rather than just standing there. If you are representing an infantryman, and you are being shot at, (safely) feel free to load and fire as fast as you can, until someone in authority convinces you to stop. If your unit has been under fire for a significant amount of time or flanked by enemy soldiers, (safely, with your musket unloaded) run away from the battleline. Go on. Do it. You know you want to.  With any luck, this will create a general spontaneous rout to the rear, disrupting whatever farbery the event organizers and officers had planned.

If, of course, your NCO is a buff, terrifying man, capable of outrunning you, just do whatever he says. In my view, eighteenth-century reenacting is currently at the place envisioned by eighteenth-century officers: that is to say, troops on the battlefield rarely do anything but what officers command. By sometimes (safely) firing spontaneously and if the situation warrants it, (especially if you are losing the battle, or a non-regular) fleeing from combat, you may cause your officers a bit of a headache, but you will be portraying a more realistic past to the public.

It seems these Austrians might be wise to flee from this wargame battle.

Now, on to wargamers. Many rulesets, such as Age of Reason, and Final Argument of Kings,  do an excellent job portraying morale breakdown. I would encourage all gamers to test for morale the first time troops are hit by artillery, particularly if they are otherwise unengaged. I would also suggest that the longer troops remain stationary under this artillery bombardment, the more difficult the test should become. Many rulesets also have tests for seeing friendly troops fleeing the field. This is an excellent rule, one which accurately reflects the realities of battlefield combat. Many of these tests are quite easy to pass, and should be before combat is joined, but once troops are in heavy combat, once one regiment begins to flee, there should be strong incentives for others to do the same. I would also like to suggest that each player, once per round, test for spontaneous good or bad news sweeping the ranks like lightning. Both of these results should be exceedingly rare (double ones or double sixes, perhaps?), but should carry a significant penalty or bonus, perhaps increasing or lowering the morale grade of troops by a quarter or a third.

How else might reenactors or wargames represent fear and flight?

If you enjoyed this post, or any of our other posts, please consider liking us on facebook,  or following us on twitter. Finally, we are dedicated to keeping Kabinettskriege ad-free. In order to assist with this, please consider supporting us via the donate button in the upper right-hand corner of the page. As always:

Thanks for Reading,



Alex Burns


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[1] Erika Kuijpers and Cornelis van der Haven, Battlefield Emotions 1500-1800: Practices, Experience and Imagination.
[2] Garrett Watts, Revolutionary Pension Roll, in Vol. xiv, Sen. Doc. 514, 23rd Cong., 1st sess., 1833-34.
[3] Turpin de Crissé, Essai sur l'art de la guerre, Vol 1, 391.
[4] Ulrich Bräker, Der Arme Mann, 147.
[5] Christopher Duffy, Military Experience in the Age of Reason, 218-219.
[6] Ernst von Barsewisch, Meine Kriegs-Erlebnisse, 75.
[7] Roger Lamb, Journal,  362.
[8] Ulrich Bräker, Der Arme Mann, 150.
[9] Andrei Bolotov, Zhizn, Vol 1, 539.
[10] Weymarn, "Ueber den ersten Feldzug," Neue Nordische Miscellaneen, 200-1.
[11] Karl Daniel Küster, Bruchstück seines Campagnelebens, 62.
[12] Martin Hunter, Journal of General Martin Hunter, 34.
[13] Eli Caruthers, Interesting Revolutionary Incidents, Vol 2 (Second Series), 161.
[14] Karl Daniel Küster, Bruchstück seines Campagnelebens, 60.
[15] Johann Jacob Dominicus, Tagebuch, 60.
[16] Joseph Plumb Martin, Private Yankee Doodle, 73-74.
[17] Thomas Jackson, Early Lives of the Methodist Preachers, Vol 4, 137.

How Often did Eighteenth-Century Soldiers Fire Independently?

Members of HM 17th Regiment of Infantry engaged in a firefight

Dear Reader,

In the eighteenth century, commanders prized orderly and disciplined fire. The British and Prussian armies were famous for their level of discipline and firepower. These armies particularly valued soldiers who fired by platoons (perhaps 1/8 of the formation firing at a time.) Soldiers and junior officers regularly noted when troops were able to achieve this level of discipline and control on the battlefield. At battlefield as diverse as Mollwitz, Dettingen, Prague, the Sullivan Campaign, and Reichenbach soldiers maintained complicated firings by platoons, divisions, and battalions. [1] We should take these reports seriously: these armies were sometimes able to achieve fire-discipline.

However, it appears from the sources that troops involuntarily used another type of fire: something that in modern English we might call, "firing at will." In the eighteenth century, the English sometimes called this an "irregular," "straggling," or "running fire," the French a, "feu de billebaude" and German sources often refer to it as, "Plackerfeuer" or sometimes "Batalillenfeuer." In practice, this simply meant that troops loaded and fired as quickly as they could, often without orders from officers. It is important to carefully interrogate sources referring to "running fire," as at times this can mean a quick but orderly fire by divisions.  A number of historians have written on this topic, such as Christopher Duffy, David Blackmore, John Houlding, and Matthew Spring.

British Troops firing

I should make it clear: eighteenth-century military theorists often frowned on this type of firing, as it was perhaps less effective than controlled firing by platoons or ranks.  Despite the censure of military theorists, we can observe this type of firing in a number of sources. It was used on eighteenth-century battlefields, across most armies. The British and Prussian armies took steps to mitigate firing at will and it may have occurred less frequently, but sources still report its use in those armies. Perhaps the most famous (and controversial) description of this type of firing comes from Lt. Colonel Russell of the British Guards at the Battle of Dettingen in 1743:

"That the Austrians behaved well also is true; that except one of their battalions which fired only once by platoons, they all fired as irregular as we did; that the English infantry behaved like heroes, and as they were the major part in the action to them the honor of the day is due; that they were under no command by way of Hide Park firing, but that the whole three ranks made a running fire of their own accord, and at the same time with great judgement and skill, stooping all as low as they could, making almost every ball take palce, is true, that the enemy, when expecting our fire, dropped down, which our men perceiving, waited till they got up before they would fire as a confirmation of their coolness as well as bravery, is very certain; that the French fired in the same manner, I mean like running fires, without waiting for words of command, and that Lord Stair did often say he had seen many a battle and never saw the infantry engage in any other manner is as true.[2]

As you might expect, this statement has generated some controversy. David Blackmore has called the eyewitnesses credibility into account and has suggested that Lord Stair's comment may only apply to the French Infantry.[3] The author was two miles away from the battle, but wrote this letter two months after the battle, and would have been able to discuss the events with officers closer to the scene. The statement "Lord Stair did often say," implies that this topic was a matter of conversation, at least among officers, after Dettingen. Even if we assume that Stair's statement only applies to the French, what a statement! Another officer reported on the same battle reported that "the British infantry fired not by platoons but with perpetual volleys from right to left, loading almost as fast as they fired without ceasing so that the French were forced to retreat."[4]

Interpretive Staff representing French Troops at Fort Ticonderoga in 1758

If this practice happened at Dettingen, where else can we observe it in the eighteenth-century? Certainly, this practice was embraced by the French. In the 1750s, the Comte de Chabot argued that allowing soldiers to fire at will was superior to other systems of fire. "The French leave each man the will and power to direct his fire, and all this fire takes good effect... this is the great advantage of French fire."[5] Chabot put forth a number reasons why this type of firing might be effective, including less pressure on officers, less chance of rookie soldiers interfering and disordering the battalion, and many other reasons.[6] Sometimes, the troops would augment firing at will by laying on the ground or on their knees. It seems that the battles of Parma and Guastalla in 1734,  the French and Austrian fought mainly on their knees.[7]   Charles Immanuel de Warnery reports that on this occasion, "the infantry laid on all fours, and fired after the manner of Croats."[8]  Comte Turpin de Crisse, writing in 1770, called the feu de billebaude, "the best of all fires," and advocated that officers facilitate the fire by having men in the rear ranks load, while the men in the front ranks fired.[9] Austrian Veteran Jacob de Cogniazzo discussed the use and disadvantages of an "unregulated fire."[10] Tobias Smollet's military history, published in 1786, refers to straggling and irregular fire in reference to the British and French Infantry in 1758, but since he was not an eyewitness, we should treat these accounts with care.[11] John Knox reports that the French used, "a galling though irregular fire" at Quebec in 1759.[12]

French military author, Jacques, Comte de Guibert, discussed the varieties of infantry fire in his 1772 essay on tactics. He concluded,

Finally, the running fire, [feu de billebaude] is the only one that should take place during a musketry firefight. After two orderly discharges, there is no effort of discipline that can prevent a complicated and regular fire from degenerating into firing at will. This fire is the liveliest and most deadly of all... it is particularly suited to the French way of war. The only thing that is necessary is a signal to cease firing. Formerly, it was thought impossible that this could succeed. During a battle in the last war [the Seven Years' War] I witnessed a regiment execute this fire in a fight with the enemy, by beginning and ending with a drum beat.  This regiment fought everywhere with the same discipline and value.[13]

As I believe the next few sources will show, the Prussians fretted endlessly about their inability to perfect platoon fire, even though they were more successful in achieving this end than other armies. Charles Immanuel de Warnery, writing in 1782, summarizes some of the difficulties in firing with platoons.

"The whole world seems to cry out against our platoon fire, since on the battlefield, we can only seem to do it twice. I agree in part, as I have written elsewhere, and I believe that we could perfect this system with better principles than we have now. The first vice is the size of our platoons: they are much too big, their frontage is too wide. How can we pretend that the officer who commands the platoon, standing on the right can see his command, much less be heard when the [more senior] two officers 50 paces to the rear can barely hear themselves? The noise of the artillery, musketry, and shouts of other platoons officers, the cries of the wounded, blinding and suffocating smoke, the distance from where the [platoon] commander stands to the left of the platoon, all conspires to hide the officer from the platoon. He could not command them even if he had a voice of thunder. These are the primary obstacles which prevent us from firing by platoons, as the system currently exists. It is amazing that noone has tried to fix this. We should also carefully examine initial cause of the disorder which gets into the infantry as soon as it has started to fire. Officers agree that this is quite normal, [once the shooting starts,] they are almost no longer masters of their soldiers."[14]

An image of Scharnhorst later in life, during the Napoleonic Era

 In his 1790 handbook for officers, Prussian General Johann von Scharnhorst, entitles one of his chapter headings: "The Plackerfeuer which must be Avoided."[15] He complains about firing at will for some time, giving detailed descriptions of why it is disadvantageous. "The worst of all these is that a certain order in the battalion has been generally lost during this fire, and that the officers who have lost control of their command can only restore their attention with great difficulty, and often not at all."[16] The extensiveness of his complaints indicate that he was not merely talking from a theoretical standpoint but from first-hand experience. Other Prussian military authorities also addressed the problem of troops involuntarily firing at will.

Berenhorst in 1756

In 1798, Georg Heinrich von Berenhorst reflected on the art of war. He had served on Frederick II of Prussia's staff during the Seven Years' War, and would become an important military figure in the history of the Napoleonic era. When describing infantry firing in battle, he noted,

You begin firing by a salvo, or perhaps firing by platoons for two or three shots. Then a general blazing away follows: the usual rolling fire where everyone fires as quickly as they are loaded. Ranks and files become mixed, those in the first rank could not kneel even if they desired it, and the officers, from the lower ranks to the generals can do nothing more with this mass, until it finally begins moving forwards or backwards.[17] 

This type of firefight is perhaps the kind of combat Ulrich Bräker was referring to when he recalled of the Battle of Lobositz in 1756. A soldier with the Itzenplitz regiment, Bräker recalled that"in great heat and excitement I, I fired away nearly all my sixty rounds. My musket became so warm that I had to carry it by the sling."[18] A Prussian report from the Battle at Soor in 1745 indicates, "In the meantime, our infantry had to endure a strong fire from the small arms [of the enemy.] Our battalions began to fire without orders, the enemy withstood this and continued his fire, which brought disorder into our lines."[19]  Johan Gottfried Hoyer, who would rise to prominence as a Prussian Major-General of the Napoleonic Era, set out to describe military history between 1750 and 1799. In describing infantry fire-tactics, he describes firing by platoons and other various forms of complex firing in the eighteenth-century. Near the end of his description, he comments:

"In fact, all these types of firing were practiced in peacetime on the drill-square, but soldiers hardly used them in serious combat. Once there, everything was abandoned for running fire [plackerfeuer], that is, everyone loaded and shot for himself as fast as he could. This is highly embarrassing, as after one hundred years of practice, we can not bring common soldiers under control, and build an unfeeling shooting-machine. In the heat and confusion of battle, the instrument is only set in motion by the artist's finger. Some exceptions [to the general rule of running fire], which may be found among the Prussian troops, and only with them alone, have been made possible through their ceaseless practice. They can prove nothing against the universality of the idea shared here."[20]

Hessian Troops open fire at Guilford Courthouse

 In North America, there are examples of this type of firefight as well, though during the American War of Independence, the British used bayonet attacks and volley fire. This swift-moving sort of attack sometimes prevented a general breakdown of control. On the other hand, the forces of the young United States appear to have used this tactic frequently.[21] It occasionally happened to the British as well, as British officer Thomas Anburey describes it in his letters from Burgoyne's campaign:

"In this action, I found that all manual exercise is but an ornament, and the only object of importance it can boast of was that of loading, firing, and charging with bayonets: as to the form, the soldiers should be instructed in the best and most expeditious method. Here I cannot help observing to you, whether it proceeded from an idea of self-preservation, or natural instinct, but the soldiers greatly improved the mode they were taught in, as to expedition, for as soon as they primed their pieces, and put the cartridge into the barrel, instead of ramming it down with their rods, they struck the butt end of their piece upon the ground, and bringing it to the present, fired it off. The confusion of a man's ideas during the time of action, brave as he may be, is undoubtedly great..."[22]

This phenomenon, often called, "tap-loading" quickened the rate of fire, but had the potential to
greatly reduced muzzle-velocity. It is possible that the Austrians engaged in this practice at the Battle of Mollwitz in 1741.[23]

2nd Battalion of Light Infantry at Germantown

What does all this mean for wargamers and reenactors? The nature of many wargame rules already simulates this idea, as many rulesets give a bonus for initial firing, and have factors which slowly curtail the effectiveness of extended fire. I would argue that it should be possible for troops who stay stationary and away from the enemy (doing nothing) for a 15 minute period to reclaim this "first fire" bonus, as troops often carried extra flints, and cleaning supplies such as barrel worms, with them on the battlefield. In addition, this represents officers bring the regiment back into a state of order, which was a key part of maintaining fire discipline. In terms of effectiveness, troops who engaged in a running fire should be perhaps marginally more effective in a firefight, but at a severe disadvantage if charged by a swift-moving enemy.

For reenactors, if in a firefight lasting more than 3 volleys, (preferably at longer range) I would suggest that it is perfectly permissible to represent troops engaging in an uncontrolled firing. The unit as a whole should fire as fast as possible until the enemy moves away, or officers manage to restore order. Again, this is perhaps less likely for Prussian and British troops (although still a feature of their experience) and more common for French troops.

If you enjoyed this post, or any of our other posts, please consider liking us on facebook, or following us on twitter. Consider checking out our exclusive content on Patreon. Finally, we are dedicated to keeping Kabinettskriege ad-free. In order to assist with this, please consider supporting us via the donate button in the upper right-hand corner of the page. As always:

Thanks for Reading,


Alex Burns

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[1] For examples of these types of reports see: Christopher Duffy, Military Experience in the Age of Reason, 212-213.;  Cook, Journals of the Military Expedition of Major General John Sullivan,  232.; Anonymous, Schreiben eines Hollaendischen Volontairs, 5,; Charles Immanuel de Warnery, Campagnes de Frédéric II, roi de Prusse, de 1756 à 1762, 48.; David Blackmore, Descructive and Formidable, 107.; C. F. Hempel and J. F. Seyfart, Helden- Staats- und Lebens-Geschichte Des Allerdurchlauchtigsten und Grosmächtigsten Fürsten, 260.; Anonymous, Das Treffen bei Reichenbach in Schlesien Zwischen Einem Korps Preussen Unter Den Befehlen Des Herzogs Von Braunschweig-Bevern, 12-13.
[2]Historical Manuscripts Commission,  Report on the manuscripts of Mrs. Franklin-Russell-Astley, of Chequers Court, 278.
[3]Blackmore, Destructive and Formidable, 107.
[4]Lt. Colonel E. A. H. Webb, History of the 12th (The Suffolk) Regiment, 63,
[5] Chabot, Réflexions critiques sur les differens systêmes de tactique de Folard, 9-11.
[6]Ibid, 5-20.
[7] Duffy, Military Experience in the Age of Reason, 213.
[8] Warnery, Des Herrn Generalmajor von Warnery sämtliche Schriften, Vol 2, 211.
[9] Turpin de Crisse, Commentaires sur les memoires de Montecuculi, 179-180
[10] Jacob de Cogniazzo, Geständnisse eines Oesterreichischen Veterans, Vol 1, 169
[11] Tobias Smollet, The History of England from the Revolution to the Death of George the Second, 189, 260.
[12] John Knox, An Historical Journal, vol 2, 128.
[13] Comte de Guibert, Essai général de tactique, 107-108. (He was describing the Royal Deux-Ponts Regiment at Vellinghausen.)
[14] Charles Immanuel de Warnery, Remarques sur plusieurs auteurs militaires et autres, 69-70.
[15] Scharnhorst, Handbook für Officiere, 276.
[16] Ibid, 277.
[17] Georg Berenhorst, Betrachtungen über die Kriegskunst, Vol 1, 255.
[18]Ulrich Bräker, Arme Mann, 150.
[19] Sammlung ungedruckter Nachrichten, Vol 1, 359.
[20] Johann Gottfried Hoyer, Geschichte der Kriegskunst, 102-103
[21] John Simcoe, Simcoe's Military Journal, 45, 146.;  Cook, Journals of the Military Expedition of Major General John Sullivan,  92, 95.
[22] Thomas Anbury, Travels through the Interior Parts of America, 333.
[23] Anonymous, Denckwüdiges Leben und Thaten Beruehmeten Herren Johaan Daniels von Menzel, 80.

Did Soldiers Move Quickly on Eighteenth-Century Battlefields?

British Reenactors Move out at Speed

Dear Reader,

Today, we are going to address one of the primary conceptions of eighteenth-century warfare: that on the battles were conducted at a slow-moving, geometrical pace to the sound of drums.  In 1987, Christopher Duffy, asserted that "the time has long since passed since it was fashionable to dismiss [warfare in] the eighteenth century as  decorative interval, suspended between the glooms and dooms of the Wars of Religion and the grinding industrialization of the nineteenth century."[1] Yet somehow, this is still the dominant image of warfare in the Kabinettskriege era. The eighteenth century, in the popular imagination, is still a time where English officers doff their hats and say to their chivalrous opponents, "gentlemen of France, fire first!"  According to this view, soldiers move to the beat of drums in perfect clockwork precision, and cannot imagine combat occurring outside of a geometric, mechanical framework. To holders of this viewpoint: this century is still a decorative interval, as the clip below indicates.

It goes without saying that some portions of this stereotype are correct. As a result of the principle weapons system of the time, the smoothbore musket, soldiers did usually fight in linear formations. In Europe, these linear formations were usually in close order. However, as I have suggested before, there was a difference in the eighteenth century, as there is today, between the parade ground and the battlefield. These officers and soldiers were not unthinking automata who were incapable of performing any tasks but those learned on the drill square. Rather, under the direction of junior officers, they frequently modified their actions to fit with local conditions. Soldiers often moved quickly on the battlefield as the situation demanded, often moving at a run in moments of crisis. 

To students of the British Army in the American War of Independence, this should not come as surprising news. Matthew H. Spring has recently shown that British soldiers fought unconventionally in North America. However: this trend goes beyond North America and the American War of Independence. Eighteenth-century soldiers were often rational actors, and made competent decisions based on the needs of the moment, and battlefield crises. This willingness to respond quickly to developing factors was not a feature of the British or Prussian armies, but common to almost all eighteenth-century militaries. In performing the research for this post, I have been careful to distinguish intentional quick movement on the battlefield from the speedy flight of retreating troops.

Jacques Mercoyrol de Beaulieu, a French veteran of the War of Polish Succession in the 1730s, recalled the types of battlefield movements possible in heat of the moment: "In these battles, (which were all victories) the Picardie Brigade... moved almost as in a race: the most nimble arrived first, their arrival awakened courage and new strength to those already engaged in combat."[2] Moving quickly, perhaps even at the run, was common enough on European battlefield when speed was required.

A nineteenth-century reimagining of the Battle at Leuthen

The Prussian army was famous for its attention drill and parade excellence. It may therefore surprise readers to learn that Prussian soldiers under Frederick the Great occasionally moved with great speed. The official war journal of the Prussian Fusilier Regiment of Jung-Brauschweig makes this clear. In describing the Battle of Prague in 1757, the journal describes two instances of quick movement: both the Prussian regiment and their Austrian opponents moved at speed.

In order to reach the position of advance, we had to pass a long dam, which delayed us. So, in order arrive at the correct time, we had to run past the village of Arhem: the regiment was not in perfect order. The (Austrian) enemy were already advancing on us at the quick step, and we engaged them.[3] 

Johann Jakob Dominicus, a musketeer in Frederick II's army, also remembers running at Prague. He wrote, "our left wing had its work cut out for it, and we had to run with energy, in order to get under the enemy guns."[4]

In Prussia, speed, and reaching the appointed position at the right time (so as not to leave a gap in the battle line) took precedence over moving in step and keeping good order.  Prussian veteran Georg von Berenhorst asserted that commanders who lost time by correcting minor irregularities in dress were punished, as maintaining a healthy and cohesive battle line was more important than keeping in parade appearances.[5]

General Ludwig Matthias von Lossow recalled that as soon as the firing began, "the orderly lines fell by the wayside, as they did whenever troops advanced through terrain, as it is rarely open enough to permit lines of this size. Units only needed to keep in contact with the other parts of the line, that was the main thing, as the experienced army of Frederick II knew well."[6] Keeping in contact with other units, and keeping up the advance, it seems, was more of a priority than keeping in perfect close order. A Dutch officer in Prussian service recalled a nighttime skirmish in 1757:

"Because of the darkness of night, we had difficulty distinguishing our troops from the enemy, so Lt. York received orders to reconnoiter the enemy with two platoons. They fired on him. Captain Rodig, who had been fired upon, rode out to these flanquers[7]... His pickets behaved bravely, and kept up and orderly fire in the manner of platoons. They then rushed forward on the command, "Marsch! Marsch!" The enemy took flight with haste. [8]

David Dundas, one of the principal English-language observers of the Prussian army in the later part of Frederick II's reign, recalled this after seeing the Prussian maneuvers in the 1780s: 

"Quick movements, which considerable columns or lines of infantry,[Frederick II] considers as impracticable and ruinous from the hurry and disorder that must thence ensue... but brigades, or smaller divisions of the line, [such as regiments or battalions] occasionally lengthen their step, and move on with rapidty at the moment of attack.[9]

British Soldiers Moving to Attack the Enemy

In delegating more responsibility to junior officers, the British facilitated quick movement even more in North America during the American War of Independence. Matthew H. Spring exhaustively shows that British troops moved at a kind of jog or trot:

"The King's troops, 'briskly marched up to' the enemy at Long Island, 'briskly ascended ' Chatterton's Hill, 'advanced fearlessly and very quickly' at Brandywine, came on at Bemis Heights at a, 'quick step' stormed for Clinton, 'with as much velocity as the ground would admit,' and 'after a very quick march moved up briskly' against the enemy at Monmouth. Likewise, in the South, the redcoats, 'marched forwards briskly, or rather rushed with great shouts,' at Savannah, were observed 'advancing rapidly' at Briar Creek, and 'rushed on with the greatest rapitity' (or 'as fast as the ploughed fields they had to cross would admit') at Spencer's Ordinary. Most expressively of all, one rebel militiman at the battle of Cowpens later recalled, 'the British line advanced at a sort of trot with a loud hallo. It was the most beautiful line I ever saw,' while another reported that the King's troops, 'advanced rapidly as if certain of victory."[10]

All of the quotes in the above paragraph come from observers present at the battles, and Spring provides a detailed footnote for those looking to track them down. Thus, in the American War of Independence, British soldiers moved quickly as part of usual practice, rather than speeding up when the circumstances demanded it. Roger Lamb recalls that the British moved forward at Guilford Courthouse, "in excellent order, at a smart run, with arms charged."[11] At the same battle, the normally slower Hessians in the Von Bose Regiment joined the British advance with speed:

"After quickly laying aside our tornisters and everything that could impede a soldier, the 71st and von Bose recieved orders to more forward and attack the enemy... We had not advanced more than 300 yards when we found a deep ditch in front of us, with tall banks and full of water. After crossing it with difficulty, we then came to a fenced wheat field; on the other side of this field 1500 continentals and militia were deployed in line... I formed the battalion into line with the greatest of speed and we ran to meet the enemy in tolerable order."[12] 

Don Troiani's Study of a Von Bose private

Other German allies of the British, the Brunswickers under Baron Riedesel, appear to have moved at speed during the culmination of a flank attack during the Battle of Freeman's Farm on September 19th, 1777. Hearing the English troops engaged with the rebel Americans, Riedesel moved out, "as quickly as possible," and launched his final attack, "at the quick-step."[13]

It is important that we do not overdraw these examples. In the eighteenth century, most European commanders valued ordered bodies of men, and preferred to attack in an orderly fashion. However, in moments of crisis, European junior officers frequently took it upon themselves to move bodies of men at speed, in order to contain crises or take advantage of conditions. The British took a decidedly different approach in the American War of Independence. In that conflict, speed was instiutionalized in the British Army. Whether in Europe or North America, these soldiers were not automata: they moved at the speed demanded by the situation.

If you enjoyed this post, or any of our other posts, please consider liking us on facebook, or following us on twitter. Consider checking out our exclusive content on Patreon. Finally, we are dedicated to keeping Kabinettskriege ad-free. In order to assist with this, please consider supporting us via the donate button in the upper right-hand corner of the page. As always:

Thanks for Reading,



Alex Burns






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[1] Christopher Duffy, Military Experience in the Age of Reason, 3.
[2] Mercoyrol de Beaulieu, Campagnes, 184.
[3] Anonymous, Sammlung ungedruckter Nachrichten, Vol 4, 118.
[4] Dominicus, Tagebuch, 16.
[5] Berenhorst, Betrachtungen, Vol 1, 221.
[6] Ludwig von Lossow, Denkwürdigkeiten zu Charakteristik, 242.
[7]Possibly a type of skirmisher, see my publication in the 2014 issue of the Journal of the Seven Years' War Association.
[8] Anonymous, Schreiben eines Hollaendischen Volontairs, 5.
[9] David Dundas, Principles of Military Movement, 9.
[10] Matthew Spring, With Zeal and With Bayonets Only, 146.
[11] Roger Lamb, Journal, 361
[12]Du Buy, Raports vom Oberst Lieut. du Buy Regts v. Bose zu der General Lieutenant v. Knyphausen, Staatsarchiv Marburg, Best. 4h Nr. 3101.
[13] Eelking, Leben und Wirken, Vol 2, 149-50.

Was the Average Eighteenth-Century Soldier Married?

Reenactors portray British Army soldiers and a laundress  during the 1781 Carolina Campaign
Photo Credit: Joe Bemis 

Dear Reader,

Today, we are going to look at a subject more difficult to pin down than soldiers' average age or height. Obviously, eighteenth-century soldiers were real individuals with deep emotional and thought lives. Many of these men carried on relations of various formal and informal types with women in the area they were stationed. However, the question before us today is, did the average eighteenth-century soldier have a wife?

That women accompanied eighteenth-armies is not in question, and has been well documented by historians. As with most of these posts, I am standing on the soldiers of intellectual giants as I write. Don Hagist, David Christiansen, Paul Kopperman, and Jennine Hurl-Eamon have all contributed greatly to this subject with regards to the British Army.[1] Holly Mayer has provided a mass of useful data on the Continental Army in the American Revolution.[2] Finally, in English, Christopher Duffy remains our guiding star for the armies of central and eastern Europe, even if better data exists in other languages.[3] Wherever possible, I have attempted to collate data from situations when soldiers were in garrison, as many few wives accompanied men on campaign, even if some did.

So, without further adieu, was the average eighteenth-century soldier married?

Reenactors portray British soldiers and a camp follower during a Valley Raid in Upstate NY
Photo Credit: Tommy Tringale

Using data from reliable sources only, not estimates, it seems that the average soldier was not married. Indeed, data from three armies suggests that perhaps as few as 20.9%, or just over 1/5th of all soldiers, were married during the eighteenth century.


Scanty data for the continental army leads us to believe that regardless of how many soldiers were actually married, only 2-4% of the total number of men were accompanied by women on campaign.[4] This figure is unhelpful as it is not clear how many of these were married to soldiers or performed work for the army. Even assuming this number was a smaller fraction of married soldiers as a whole, it would seem that majority of soldiers were not married. Hopefully, with the work of American genealogists, we can someday expand this data.

A British Grenadier from the 31st works his magic circa 1748, Morier

In during the later-eighteenth-century, roughly 12.5% of  British soldiers were accompanied by their wives on voyages outside Britain.[5] This matches up rather well with the data from troops stationed at New York during 1779-1780 when there were roughly 17 women per 100 men with the army.[6] British military administration treated marriage in the army with a sort of aloof indifference, which Jennine Hurl-Eamon has compared to the "Don't Ask; Don't Tell" policy of the U.S. Army at the turn of the twenty-first century.[7]

The Austrian Grenadier on the right has found something intensely funny.
Perhaps it is the fact that he isn't married. (Morier, circa 1748)

Oddly enough, the best-kept records for this type of question come from Austria (possibly because the lack of success of Austrian armies after the eighteenth century) so we will first turn to that data. Thanks to the enterprising work of Christopher Duffy, we have muster roll data from 122,435 Austrian privates, NCOs, and invalids.[8] Of those men, some 14.03% of soldiers were married. As might be expected, the number is higher, on average, for NCOs and invalids, and lower for enlisted men. Of all the armies for which data is readily available, the Austrian sample is the lowest and the largest: which is perhaps telling.

An artist's imagining of a Prussian soldier's widow after the Seven Years' War

Beate Engelen asserts that in the Prussian army after the Seven Years' War, some 29.65% of soldiers stationed in Berlin and Potsdam were married.[9] Christopher Duffy puts the Potsdam figure for 1776 a bit higher: at about 32.3 percent of NCOs and men.[10] Thus, the data from the post- Seven Years' War Prussian army might be skewed compared to the average, even if it does come from an army of the period. Why is this?

Thanks to the movement of Russian and Austrian armies, Prussia had lost some 500,000 of its civilian population in the Seven Years' War.[11] Frederick II possessed no illusions about the state of Prussia's economy. Taking drastic and severe measures, he forcibly abducted teenagers (boys and girls) from neighboring states under Prussian control (Saxony and portions of Poland). The boys were placed into the army, and the girls were married to Prussian soldiers. This act was understandably later viewed with some embarrassment in Prussia, even if contemporary foreign observers did not find it shocking. Frederick was willing to take whatever steps necessary to rebuild Prussia, regardless of lives affected.

Whatever their policy towards soldiers' wives, states felt a deep responsibility to soldiers' children. In Prussia, compulsory public education (much like we have in the United States today) was instituted in 1763, and former soldiers were often the teachers. In both Russia and Austria, schools for military children sprang up throughout the eighteenth century. In Russian, they appeared as early as the 1730s, in Austria, they appeared after the Seven Years' War.

Soldiers' wives could be a headache of the first order for military administrators

Many military observers held firm opinions on soldiers' marriage. Prussian cavalry general Warnery, who possessed no great love for women, had this to say regarding soldiers' wives:

"when a German army is on the march, there is no more hideous sight than a whole pack of those stinking Amazons, proceeding on foot or on horseback. They act like raiding parties, and you find them with the advance guard, the rearguard, and on the flanks of the army. No village, no hut is spared their attentions. They comb through the cellars, the rooms, hidden recesses and chests, and make off with whatever they pleace. They put to shame the Cossacks, who are amateurs in comparison."[12]

On the other hand, Frederick II firmly agreed with the practice of marriage for soldiers but preferred his officers remain perpetual bachelors.[13] British Army chaplain William Agar published a series of sermons in 1758, where he called for the total number of recognized wives per battalion to 200 (approx. 1/5 of the paper strength) and defended the virtues of married soldiers.[14]

On average, then, the vast majority eighteenth-century soldiers remained unmarried, even if women and marriage played a vital if limited role in the military system in which they worked.

Feel free to share this post if you know individuals who might be interested.

Thanks for Reading,



Alex Burns

[1] Hagist, "The Women of the British Army in North America," The Brigade Dispatch, (1994-1995); Kopperman, "The British High Command and Soldiers' Wives in America 1755-1783," JSAHR no. 60, (1982); Christiansen, From the Glorious Revolution to the French Revolutionary Wars: Civil-Military Relations in North-East England during the Eighteenth-Century, (Dissertation, Newcastle upon Tyne, 2005) and Hurl-Eamon, Marriage and the British Army in the Long Eighteenth-Century, (2014).
[2] Mayer, Belonging to the Army: Camp Followers and Community during the American Revolution, (1990).
[3] Duffy, Russia's Military Way to the West, (1981), Army of Frederick the Great, (2nd Ed, 1996) Instrument of War: The Austrian Army in the Seven Years' War, (Vol 1, 2000); Beate Engelen, Soldatenfrauen in Preussen: Eine Strukturanalyse der Garnisonsgesellschaft im späten 17. und 18. Jahrhundert, (2005).
[4] Mayer, Belonging to the Army, 133.
[5] Hurl-Eamon, Marriage and the British Army, 23.
[6] Hagist, "The Women of the British Army in North America,"
[7] Hurl-Eamon, Marriage and the British Army, 24.
[8] Duffy, Instrument of War, 208.
[9] Engelen, Soldatenfrauen in Preussen, 88-89.
[10] Duffy, Army of Frederick the Great, 81.
[11] Schumann, "The end of the Seven Years' War in Europe," in The Seven Years War: Global Views, 514.
[12]  Duffy's translation, Warnery, Saemtliche Schriften, Vol 2, 26-27.
[13]  Duffy, Army of Frederick the Great, 81.
[14]  Agar, Military Devotion: or the soldier's duty to God, xxix.