Friday, November 18, 2022

Remembering Dr. Christopher Duffy

 

Christopher Duffy at the 2003 Edinburgh International Book Festival
(Photo by Jeremy Sutton-Hibbert) 

On the morning of November 16th, Christopher Duffy passed away after a brief stay at Lewisham Hospital. A famed British historian, Christopher was 86, born in April of 1936.  As the editor of Christopher's Festschrift, I've been asked to share about him in a few places, so I will confine my thoughts here to Christopher the man. Obviously, Christopher was a great historian, writer, scholar and military scientist. I'll address those parts of his legacy in other settings. Here, let's focus on what made Christopher a great man. 

Dealing with death and loss is nothing new. Ecclesiastes reminds us there is nothing new under the sun. One of Christopher's favorite anecdotes about Frederick the Great was the story of the loss of his friend, Hans Karl von Winterfeldt. Winterfeld had been killed at the Battle of Moys on September 7th, 1757. Frederick, hearing a rumor of this, wrote a letter to Winterfeldt, saying, "Everything is going splendidly here, but I am very worried by a rumor which has come to me from Lusatia. I don't know what to make of it. They write to me from Dresden that you have been killed." (PC 9336).

And of course, Winterfeldt had been killed. This loss effected Frederick, and late in life, as he talked about the Battle of Moys with a young officer, he exclaimed, "'That was where Winterfeldt was killed! He was a good man, a soulful man, he was my friend.' [Frederick's] great eyes brimmed with tears as he looked towards the window. He open the casement, and stood there some time before he turned back... softening his voice: Good night, I am obliged to you."' (Ense, Lebens des Generals Hans Karl von Winterfeldt, 233) 

Frederick's comment on Winterfeldt: "he was a good man, a soulful man (ein Seelenmensch)" could equally be applied to Christopher. From 1995-2016, once a year Christopher traveled to South Bend, Indiana, in order to meet with the members of the Seven Years War Association, delivering an annual lecture on eighteenth-century warfare. It was in this context, in 2009 as a university student, that along with my father, uncle, and cousin, I met Christopher. 

Christopher delivering a lecture at the Seven Years War Association

Meeting your heroes is always a dicey proposition. I'd been reading Christopher's books since I was 14, and was nervous at the prospect of meeting (at least in my mind), such a famous figure. Christopher gave a wonderful lecture. Unlike so many in senior positions, or hobbyists sunk into the arcane discussions of their craft, Christopher was immediately friendly to my cousin Peter and I (the youngest people at this convention by ~15 years). He had the unenviable task of giving the jealously sought after association award that year. He chose to give it to Dean West, for, among other reasons, being particularly welcoming, "to the young people."


Over the next few years, my family and I continued to attend the convention, and I continued to speak with Christopher. Christopher always made time to sign his books, talk with me about painfully obscure questions related to eighteenth-century warfare, and give pithy advice on the nature of being a historian, such as: 

"There are many places worse than small universities, big ones for a start."

"Nothing is as sinister as department policy"

"Military institutions are like hotels: look for cracks in the plaster". 

"Choose a subject that will bring you to interesting people and interesting places."

You can hear some of that advice from an interview that I did with Christopher in 2020.

June, 2020 Interview Selection

 As I graduated college, and began graduate school, the nature of my relationship with Christopher became more professional. I performed research for him at the National Archives of the United States, he wrote a letter of recommendation which helped secure me a place to complete my doctorate. What didn't change, however, was his witty, fun-loving demeanor, always ready to crack a joke in order to set the room at ease. Most of his lectures began with a rousing, "Listen up, you scum!" a line I still use on my undergraduate students to their delight. 


Even as our relationship became more professional, you couldn't get away from the sense that he was a total ham. After celebrating his 80th birthday with the Seven Years War Association in 2016, Christopher could no longer travel to the United States: the costs, combined with his health, had simply become too great. As a result of European travel for my dissertation research, I had the opportunity to travel and see him (and perform research for him at the UK National Archives) for a number of summers between 2018-2020. He remained ever cheerful, and optimistic. Despite his advanced age, he remained focused on his work, always coming up with new ideas for projects to explore warfare in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. In 2022, he remained cheerful and determined, even as he knew the end was approaching. 

Christopher was a great man: and he knew it. He'd always relish that border control agents had read his books. That greatness, however, didn't make him proud, aloof, remote, or guarded. He was warm, kind, generous, and whimsical. He tells us in his 2019 introduction to The Wild Goose and the Eagle,  at the age of 10, "when I walked and cycled through the then mysterious and gnat-ridden marshes of upper Mersey, I liked to populate them in my imagination with Theresa's white coats and the blue coats of Old Fritz." Christopher never lost his boyish imagination and love of his chosen period of history. That is was made him so formidable. 


Being able to edit his festschrift was one of the great honors of my life. Please feel free to share your memories of Christopher in the comments below. 

Thanks for Reading,


Alex Burns 



Wednesday, April 13, 2022

Were the Hessians really Mercenaries?

 



Dear Reader, 

There are many myths regarding the revolutionary war, but none seem as hard to eradicate as the idea that the "Hessians" were "mercenaries". Today's post isn't for the fully initiated: if you are familiar with the story of the German Subsidientruppen in the American War of Independence, there might be some new material for you. By and large, however, this post is aimed at those who are unfamiliar with the story of these German-speaking soldiers, and why they made the decision to travel to America. 

For those of you who don't know me, I'm an academic historian writing on transnational military culture in the Atlantic World in the Eighteenth Century. I wrote my masters thesis on these troops, and then completed my doctoral work, in part, on the related (but not interchangeable) Prussian army. I've published several articles on these German-speaking armies, and am working on more (and a book.) Dr. Friederike Baer's forthcoming book (published later this month) is set to become the new standard text on these soldiers. You can pre-order it here.  

In my ten years of academic work, from the time I entered my MA program to my work as lecturer now, I have heard many wrong-headed ideas about these troops. Here are a few: These troops should be called Hessians. They were mercenaries. They were sold to America because their princes were greedy and wanted to build palaces and pay for their illegitimate children. They were drunk on Christmas, and so George Washington beat them. They committed many brutal war-crimes in America. Many of them deserted to stay in America, where life was better. 

All of these ideas are wrong. Or, if they have a grain of truth to them, that grain has been badly distorted. So, without further introduction, let's examine these myths in turn. 

Myth 1): These troops were Hessians. 

Although most came from the mid-sized state of Hessen-Kassel, troops from six different principalities (Hessen-Kassel, Braunschweig-Wolfenbüttel,  Hessen-Hanau, Ansbach-Bayreuth, Waldeck, and Anhalt-Zerbst.) If you include the larger, global war outside America, fought in places like Gibraltar and India, troops from the state of Hanover (Braunschweig-Lüneburg) also fought for the British outside of the Holy Roman Empire (the pre-German territorial entity.) So, while over 60% of these troops came from Hessen, they really hailed from all over the western and central Holy Roman Empire. As a result, it might be better to call them something other than Hessians. "Germanic" has been put forward, but that usually conjures up images of the fall of the Western Roman Empire. What else might we call them? Read on. 

Myth 2): They were mercenaries. 

Imagine you are a soldier in the United States Army, serving in West Germany during the Cold War. You are stationed there because of longstanding agreements and alliances, which stretch back decades. The United States Government and the West German government have a financial understanding that helps maintain your presence in the region. Are you a mercenary? The situation was very similar for the German-speaking soldiers who fought in the American War of Independence, They had a longstanding relationship with Great Britain, stretching back decades. They had fought with alongside the British since the 1690s, both in continental Europe and in the British isles. As a result of the Hanoverian succession in 1714 (the British Royal family was drawn from Hanover) they had longstanding marriage connections with Great Britain. Horace Walpole, a British politician from the 1730s, referred to the Hessians as the Triarii of Great Britain. 

These soldiers did not personally or corporately take on contracts from the British. they were members of state militaries: their governments were paid a subsidy by the British in order to fight in their wars. Frederick II (the Great) of Prussia, received subsidies from the British during the Seven Years War. As a result, the modern German term for these troops is Subsidientruppen, or subsidy troops. Thus, it might be better to speak of the German-speaking subsidy troops, as opposed to calling them Hessians, or mercenaries. Historians have argued that it might be fitting to call their countries "mercenary states". This is different from saying they were mercenaries. 

Myth 3): They were sold to America because their princes were greedy and wanted to build palaces and pay for their illegitimate children. 

The princes of the Western Holy Roman Empire lived in an incredibly dangerous world during the eighteenth century. Their territories were small, rural, principalities, trapped between the military giants of France, Austria, and Prussia. As a result, from the 1670s, these princes attempted to use subsidy contracts to build themselves larger armies, in order to preserve their independence. These subsidy contracts were a standard feature of European politics, diplomacy, and conflict resolution. They allowed the princes to better protect their small domains. None of the princes who formed subsidy contracts with Britain during the American War of Independence were doing something radically new or greedy. Instead, they were following on decades of practice which had allowed them to maintain their own independence. The Hessian (Hessen-Kassel) Landgraf Friedrich II actually used the funds from the contract, in part, to promote economic development and the textile industry in his territories. Some of them had illegitimate children. Some had palaces. Portraying them as sex-crazed misers limits our understanding of the economic and security necessities which actually underpinned their subsidy policies. Following the long-standing practices of their governments, princes in the Western Holy Roman Empire entered subsidy agreements to maintain the costs of their states. 

Myth 4): They committed many brutal war-crimes in America. 

The subsidy troops had been used in messy civil conflicts before. Hessian troops were used against the Jacobites in 1745-6, where they remarkably refused to take part in the repression against the Scottish Jacobites. Their troops were remembered in Perthshire, Scotland, as "a gentle race," and their commanding Prince (Friedrich II) declared, "My Hessians and I have been called to fight the enemies of the British crown, but never will we consent to hang or torture in its name." (Duffy, Best of Enemies, p. 133). English officers in the Seven Years War, noted that their troops were reprimanded for plundering more than Hessian forces. (Atwood, The Hessians, p. 173). In North America during the War of Independence, the Hessians once again behaved better than their British counterparts. Although their was a surge of fear about Hessian brutality early in the war, after the first few years of the war, Americans believed that the Hessians treated them better than British soldiers. Aaron Burr wrote of Hessian atrocities: "Various have been the reports concerning the barbarities committed by the Hessians, most of them [are] incredible and false." (Matthew Davis, Memoirs of Aaron Burr, Vol 1. p. 107). Comparing the brutality of the Napoleonic Wars with the American War of Independence, a Hessian veteran who served in both wars commented: "Everything which the author has subsequently seen in this regard greatly exceeds what one should term cruelty in America, which in comparison with more recent times, can be regarded as nothing more than a harmless puppet show." (Adam Ludwig von Ochs, Betrachtungen Ueber die Kriegkunst, 60-61.) Hessian troops committed crimes in America, there is no doubt. What is clear is that these crimes were not excessive for an eighteenth-century conflict. 

Myth 5): Many of them deserted to America, where life was better. 

Many Americans claim Hessian ancestry. As a result, it is common to encounter the sentiment that these "mercenary" troops were simply waiting to switch sides. In reality, most of these troops returned to their homelands in the Holy Roman Empire. A very small number switched sides before the end of the war, a larger (but still small) percentage elected to remain in America after the war ended in 1783. Far from being an act of rebellion, the princes encouraged their subsidy troops to remain in America if they desire: this would cut costs, and make the process of slashing the military budget easier in peacetime. Most returned to celebrations, public parades, and being welcomed by loved ones. For more on exact data of desertions, as well as the subsidy-troops' return home, see Daniel Krebs' book,  A Generous and Merciful Enemy. The majority of these troops remained loyal to their princes, and returned home to their own native lands. 

Who Were the Hessians? 

The experience of 37,000 soldiers mainly drawn from six small counties is not all one thing. There are elements of truth to each of the myths about the Hessians, but their story is more complex than the myths that are told about them in English-speaking circles in North America. They were drawn from a fascinating world in Central Europe with its own customs, practices, and traditions. They entered the American story, and as a result, it is worth taking the time to understand and remember their path in it in a complex way. 

If you enjoyed this post, or any of our other posts, please consider liking us on facebook, or following us on twitterConsider 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





Monday, January 31, 2022

Spain and American Independence: How Important Was Spain's Contribution?

 



Dear Readers,

Spain's role in the American War of Independence is currently one of the most active, loud and heated discussions in the online revolutionary war community. To a large degree, this is because the narrative regarding these claims has shifted drastically since 2002, when Thomas Chávez asserted that, "the role of Spain has not been genuinely recognized."[1] Paired with Chávez's own excellent book on the subject, which all students of the American Revolution should own, other books, such as Gonzalo M. Quintero Saravia's biography of Bernardo de Gálvez, have corrected this flawed understanding. In 2014, Congress awarded Gálvez with Honorary U.S. Citzenship, an award which has only been granted to seven other individuals in United States History. If Gálvez is in an elite group with Winston Churchill and Mother Teresa in American memory, we cannot claim that he has been fully forgotten. 

Instead, in heated online salvos, the debate has transformed into another question altogether. Rather than asserting that the ungrateful gringos have forgotten Spanish assistance (which was broad, varied, and important), the debate has become whether or not Spain was the sole decisive military force in the American War of Independence, overshadowing Washington, France (obviously the Dutch) and anyone else audacious enough to come to the front of the line. Much like William Pitt's famous formulation of "winning America in Germany" during the French and Indian War, the debate now seems to rage on whether Spain achieved American Independence primarily by fighting in the Caribbean, Gulf Coast, and Gibraltar. Likewise, the debate has transformed into whether or not Bernardo de Gálvez was supreme commander of French, Spanish, and American forces in North America.  Spain also seems to have been promoted to the senior Bourbon partner in the Franco-Spanish alliance of 1779 at the Treaty of Aranjuez. The evidence supporting each of these claims comes from overly generous interpretations of strongly-stated scholarly argument. As a historian specializing in eighteenth-century military history, I will attempt to give my views on this debate. 

Was Spain the Sole Decisive Military Force in the American War of Independence? 

No. The Spanish forces played a vital role after 1779. Although never supporting the Continental Army with combat troops in the thirteen colonies, Spain vitally aided American troops with supplies, money, and weapons. American, French, Spanish, and Dutch military forces conducted a global war, where they jointly defeated British forces. Like their French, Dutch, and American allies, the Spanish military had its share of successes and defeats in this wider conflict. 

Did Spain Win American Independence in the Caribbean, Gulf Coast, and Gibraltar? 

There is no doubt that Spain's decision to enter the war further subdivided British military resources, which were already strained by French involvement. France joined the colonists in June of 1778, the Spanish, concerned over a number of issues, delayed their involvement until 1779. Spain focused their resources on the Caribbean, Gulf Coast, and Gibraltar as a result of their lack of recognition of the rebellious colonists. As a powerful empire with global colonies, the Spanish government was more wary of a breakaway colonial movement than their French counterparts, whose colonial holdings had been largely taken in the Seven Years War. The addition of Spain's powerful fleet was vital, as was the widening of the war. The French, in the words of Saravia, were taken "hostage to Spain's war aims."[2] 

This hostage taking had the effect of drawing out the war beyond when it would have naturally ended in America. Although Britain was ready to make peace in North America after Yorktown, and France was ready to negotiate after the disastrous Battle of the Saintes in April 1782, the Spanish held out hope that Gibraltar would fall, until the failure of the great assault on September 13th, 1782. This confirmed for the Spanish that Gibraltar would not fall, and all sides then prepared for negotiation. [3] As a result, although the Spanish deserve credit for dividing British resources, American Independence was achieved regardless of the outcome of the siege of Gibraltar. Naval resources were more important, and Spain did prove effective in this regard. 



Was Gálvez Supreme Commander of Forces in North America?

As a result of negotiations, Gálvez was had directional authority over French and Spanish forces. In practice, he had limitations. Gálvez also possessed authority over the continuing wars with the Comanche and Tupac Amuru's rebellion in Peru, but exerted little authority over these theatres. Attempting to make Spain seem more relevant to the victory at Yorktown, Thomas Chávez asserts that Bernardo de Gálvez gave Admiral de Grasse permission to sail north assist the American-French ground forces at Yorktown. In reality, this was a joint decision made de Grasse and his Spanish counterpart, Saavedra de Sangronis, made the decision together, and de Grasse departed. The Spanish were hesitant to allow their own ships to accompany de Grasse to Yorktown, as they had not formally recognized American Independence. As a result, de Grasse sailed with only the French portions of the fleet.[4] Gálvez arrived later, and retroactively approved the decision.[5] 

This fallacy comes from a fundamental misunderstanding of the nature of authority in eighteenth-century armies. Commanders frequently reported to officers or even councils of officers far from their commands. However, in a world before instant communications, commanders were responsible for the troops under their direct care. This was even more true in allied command structures. In the European Seven Years War, commanders treated the needs of their allies in-theatre as secondary to their own decision-making and the goals of their government. Frederick II was able to convince a Russian allied commander to stay alongside him for a couple of days through extreme measures such as personal bribery.[6] Regardless of their rank and authority, the idea of a supreme allied commander was simply not binding in eighteenth-century allied military command structures. Gálvez was an important figure who skillfully managed hemispheric eighteenth-century wars. His authority had limitations imposed by the dictates of his culture and century. 

Final Thoughts: 

It is difficult to rank "credit" for the outcome of a conflict. Was the Chinese and Soviet aid to Vietnam more important than the lives of North Vietnamese soldiers in fighting the United States? These questions are subjective. In the end, Spain must be equated with France in terms of impact on the outcome of the war. Very few professional historians would disagree with this assessment. What is strange, or even idiotic, is to suggest that Spain fought and defeated Britain as the sole power in the war of 1779-1783. This should not be difficult to understand. America did not defeat Imperial or Nazi Germany without outside help, but its impact was vital to the success of an allied war effort. This is the same type of serious consideration Spain's efforts should receive in the wider war between 1775 and 1783. Spain fought a skillful war between 1779-1783, not free the United States (which they did not recognize as an independent  power until 1783) but to regain honor after 1762 and restore important territories to the Spanish crown. 

If you enjoyed this post, or any of our other posts, please consider liking us on facebook, or following us on twitterConsider 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

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


[1] Thomas Chávez, Spain and the Independence of the United States, (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2002) 213.   

[2]Gonzalo M. Quintero Saravia, Bernardo de Gálvez: Spanish Hero of the American Revolution, (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2018) 146. 

[3] David Allison and Larrie D. Ferrerio, The American Revolution: A World War, (Washington: Smithsonian Books, 2018), 220;  Lawrence Kaplan, "The Treaty of Paris, 1783: A Historiographical Challenge" International History Review, Vol. 5 No. 3 (1983) 431-442. 

[4] Chávez, Spain and the Independence of the United States, 201.  

[5] Chávez, Spain and the Independence of the United States, 203. 

[6] Christopher Duffy, Frederick the Great: A Military Life, (New York: Routledge, 1986), 236.