An American Soldier in Prussia: Colonel William Stephens Smith

Colonel Smith later in life by Mather Brown

Dear Reader,

As I have already noted on this blog,  the Prussia reviews in the late eighteenth century became something of an international affair, with military men from across Europe traveling to witness the Prussian army of Frederick II. Today, we are examining the experiences of just such a man: American Colonel William Stephen Smith. Smith was an officer in the Continental Army, and served in numerous actions from New York, to Trenton, to Monmouth. He served as a staff officer for both General John Sullivan and  George Washington. Famously, Smith married the daughter of John and Abigail Adams: Abigail "Nabby" Amelia Adams.


In 1785, while traveling with future Latin American revolutionary General Fransico del Miranda, Colonel Smith requested and obtained permission from Frederick II to observe the Prussian reviews. He kept a diary of this journey, which serves as the major source for his movements and actions during this time. Miranda and Smith traveled through Holland and the western Holy Roman Empire, and had the equivalent of "car trouble" when their carriage broke down just west of Magdeburg.[1] Upon reaching the Prussian dominions, Smith immediately began trying to reconcile the myth of Frederick's Prussia with his republican (ie, not monarchist) political leanings. According to Smith, Magdeburg:

is accounted the strongest fortified place in his dominions, and was the place of his residence in the last war. It is situated on the Lower Elbe in Saxony and has about 30,000 inhabitants. Here are about 260 prisoners of the state in the tower- on the citadel, which we visited, are the insignia of despotism. Here a subject is confined for any number of years or for life as his king, in a capricious moment, thinks proper to decide."[2] 

Smith spent considerable time in his diary dwelling on the injustices of absolutism and the fate of political prisoners. These subjects, Smith reminded his diary, were "lessons for republicans, and subjects of the advocates of despotism to blush at."[3] The poverty of Prussia also drew Smith's criticism. He recalled, "the sentinel at his post, high plumed and ready for heroic deeds, with an hungry countenance, will beg your charity- and if he is detected in this, he is punished." Even the Prussian countryside was poor even Smith's view: "the country between this and the Elbe is very poor, sandy- pine producing country- there is nothing remarkable in this place".[4]

View of Berlin, 1780s

After describing Potsdam at some length, Smith recalled meeting his former British foes on the review field. He had served against many of the officers during the war in North America, and had met several of them personally:

a number of British officers appeared on the field, amongst the rest was Lord Cornwallis, General Musgrave and Colonel Fox- these three I knew in America... I observed them notice me at a distance but no advance was made- I know so much of the British character as always to meet them upon the haughtiest ground and when they find you are stationed it is ten to one but they make the advance and become very civil- I took my position and entrenched myself and the morning passed in mutual attention to the manoeuvre.[5]

Much of Smith's diary contains similar observations, lauding and criticizing the individuals and cultures he came in contact. He mocked Frederick's adviser Moses Mendelssohn, calling him "a Jew-Philosopher... an old antediluvian figure—very deformed... [and] the Israelite."[6]
Even as he took in Prussian culture, Smith observed the mock battles and reviews of the Prussian miltitary with great interest. He was not afraid to give critical feedback when the Prussians employed a tactic he thought was outmoded on foolish. Using cavalry attacks as a method of buying time particularly drew his criticism, and he believed that the Prussians employed canister shot at too long a range. He:

went to the field-attended the manoeuvres of 4000 men under General Muellendorf—the governor of this place- the troops are superior to panegeric-- they marched in platoons from the town to their ground- on the word, the line was formed with the greatest perfection-- they advanced in line- advanced by platoon firing, then by regiment, and finally, on a supposition of being pressed by cavalry, they gave ground, retiring in eight detached lines of 500, each, in such a manner as to perfectly cover each other.[7]

Detail from Berlin Scene, 1780s

 At times he praised the Prussian reviews as realistic: "General Mullendorf, when the hussars began their skirmish, detached his jagers and a battalion of grenadiers with two six[pders] to occupy a small wood and hill."[8] Colonel Smith could not fail to be impressed with the movements of the Prussian troops, but found their weaponry to be a mixed bag. He reported that,

"the Grenadiers... move with great order and silence--their fire cannot be very destructive--the breach of their pieces is very light and not calculated to take aim, and the weight of the cylindrical ram-rod bears down the muzzle of the piece so much that it requires very considerable exertion to keep it any time steady."[9]

Despite the problems in aiming the Prussian flintlocks, Smith found some Prussian technological improvements to his liking:

 Each soldier is provided with a case for his lock which preserves the pieces effectually from rain during the march, and in action they fire with it fixed, but in the use of it the same mode of loading with the cylindrical ramrod must be adopted and of course the breach of the piece must be so formed as to admit the powder into the pan thro' the touch-hole, for this the powder must be fine—leather guards against the heat of the pieces.[10] 

Other military observers of the time, such as David Dundas, likewise took note of this particular Prussian invention. Like most visitors to Frederick's Prussia, he could not fail to comment on the person of the king. Lafayette found that Frederick was a dirty old corporal, while

The king commanded with great attention, dressing each platoon personally on the formation of the line—his military abilities are undoubtedly great and had he the affections of his army he might be a second conqueror of the world—his armies are composed of dissatisfied mercenaries, compelled by severity of discipline to discharge their duty... unfortunately the king on the night of the 20th was seized with a fit of the gout and was not able to attend the troops, but so loath is he to part with command that he made arrangements for the maneuvres in his chamber, and assigned every officer his station and business--he says the spirit deserves a better body—sometimes when age hinders his speed he says, "spirit can't you make this carcass move a little faster—march you old bugger-march!"[11]

In addition to taking the pulse of Prussia's military and ruling class, Smith displayed a keen interest in military history. He toured the battlefields of the Seven Years War and War of Austrian Succession. "We arrived at Pirna at twelve—this place is remarkable for the position of the Saxon-army under the command of its Elector in the campaign of 1756 when beseiged by the king of Prussia—it is a most elegant position."[12] Near Dresden, he recalled,  On the 4th. the Commandant sent an Engineer with us to view the field on which the battle of Kesseldorf was fought on the 15th December 1745, between the advance corps of the Austrian Army."[13] Crossing the border into Bohemia, Smith and Miranda walked the field at Lobositz, "On the 8th. accompanied by the School-master and an old woman as an interpreter we reconnoitered the field where Frederick with 24,000 Prussians attacked."[14] By the later third of the eighteenth century, observing battlefields had become something of a pastime for military men, long before the tradition of the staff ride made it a formalized experience.

Edward Francis Cunningham's
“Frédéric le Grand, retournant à Sans-Souci après les manoeuvres de Potsdam accompagné de ses Généraux”

However, despite the splendor of the review, Smith understood that the impressive edifice he witnessed was unstable. Unlike many officers inflicted with the sickness of "Prussomania," Smith found that:

The situation of his armies as to discipline, and the skill of his officers cannot be exceeded, but now they are at their zenith Frederick is gliding rapidly down the current of time, and according to the course of nature cannot float much longer on the surface.[15]

Colonel Smith's impressions of Prussia give us a unique window into the kingdom in Frederick's twilight years. Obviously, his republican sentiments gave Smith reason to criticize Prussia's authoritarian institutions. Despite this, he found himself fascinated by the military culture of Prussia, and from a purely tactical perspective, found something to admire about the Prussian military.

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

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[1] William Stephens Smith to Abigail Adams, 5 September 1785
[2] Archivo del General Miranda, Vol 1, 371.
[3] Ibid, 372.
[4] Ibid, 374.
[5] Ibid, 379.
[6] Ibid, 384.
[7] Ibid, 380.
[8] Ibid, 399.
[9] Ibid, 380.
[10] Ibid, 399.
[11] Ibid, 383, 400.
[12] Ibid, 408.
[13] Ibid, 411.
[14] Ibid, 415.
[15] Ibid, 395

Two Methods of Wheeling on Eighteenth-Century Battlefields

British Reenactors at the Battle of Guilford Courthouse

Dear Readers,

Today, I want to examine two methods of changing front in the eighteenth century. The first method, called wheeling, is quite well known even to individuals with a passing knowledge of military life. Timestamp 00:30 in the following video displays Hessian reenactors demonstrating a wheel in the 2015 Battle of Trenton reenactment. The basic concept is that one end (or the center,) of the line remains relatively stationary, while the rest of the formation pivots around it.

The concept is quite simple, and was widely used in eighteenth-century armies. However, historians and reenactors have identified another way which troops in the eighteenth century also reformed their front. By the 1780s, the British had developed a number of different ways of using this type of motion, with different orders for different situations. Troops would perform tasks such as forming to the right and left, a much faster way of wheeling on the run. Another way of changing the unit frontage in a rapid manner was breaking and reforming. In this method, the troops are dispersed, and then commanded to reform, usually facing a different direction than before. 

As opposed to the more stately wheel, troops were expected to reform the company at a much quicker speed. At timestamp 00:34 in the following video, you can see reenactors portraying British troops part of the way through executing this maneuver. In the video, they are reforming their front from a position perpendicular to the camera to one parallel, facing the camera. 

Up until this point, the exact origin of this maneuver is unclear. Reenactors have theorized that it came about as a result of British experience during the Seven Years' War in North America. Specifically, the first British source to mention this idea, Townshend's Orders to the Irish Establishment, given on May 15th, 1772, reference the idea as a light infantry exercise. The maneuver is to be carried out by "Light Infantry Companies...marching through a Wood or any Strong Country." 

The next British source to describe this idea, Thomas Simes, The Military Instructor, was printed in 1779. Rather than a company, Simes describes the maneuver as something that a battalion to execute in case of dispersal by the enemy. This command is a three-step process. The commanding officer of the battalion gives the order: "Take care to disperse: March." At this point, the officers and colors of the battalion take six paces to the front, and the drummers give a long roll. Upon the command, "to arms," the battalion reforms around the colors.[1]  Finally, John Williamson's The Elements of the Military Arrangement, published in 1782, gives a much greater discussion of the various ways a company could use this process in order to reform on the run. Williamson describes this as a new method of wheeling, which is making the old style of wheeling obsolete.[2]

If not for the obvious similarities in these discussions, you could almost believe that they were three separate ideas, independently formulated. Townshend's is clearly a measure designed to change the front of company-sized element of light infantry, Simes is a formalized order for reforming a battalion he does not even mention changing frontage.  Williamson's treatise makes it clear that speed, rather than formality, is the purpose of the exercise. However, my submission to you all is that all three of these authors drew on the same idea, and that the originator of the idea was not even an officer of the British army, but rather, this guy:

Frederick II, King of Prussia

The 1743 Prussian infantry regulations, authored by Frederick II, often called, "the Great" contain a passage in which the kernel of all of these elements can be identified. 

Like Simes, Frederick identifies dispersal with an enemy attack, or "entstandenen Alarme," (Spontaneous Alarm), and describes the maneuver with a battalion size element in mind. Indeed, Simes seems to lift much of his text directly from the Prussian Reglement. Like Townshend, Frederick intends his officers to use the maneuver to change the frontage of their units. The officers were to swiftly, "change the front via the colors," and that soldiers received commands to, "face to the colors."  Finally, like Williamson's treatise, Frederick indicates that the maneuver should be carried out with a high degree of speed. After dispersing, battalions should reform themselves, "with the utmost speed," and that after the order to reform has been given, "rush to reform themselves in their ranks and files."[3]

Prussian Reenactors performing this manuever

Thus, it would seem that Prussian ideas, rather than North American experience, led to the development of reforming fronts. This should not necessarily, surprise us: Williamson is explicitly overt in praising and copying Prussian ideas, while Simes directly copies portions of Faucwitt's translated Prussian regulations. With that being said, the British developed and perfected this idea in North America.  As Matthew Spring has shown in With Zeal and Bayonets Only, the British greatly adapted their tactics to a North American environment. By 1785, Charles Cornwallis expressed disgust at the outdated Prussian infantry maneuvers:

"The cavalry is very fine; the infantry exactly like the Hessian, only taller and better set up, but much slower in their movements. Their manoeuvres were such as the worst General in England would be hooted at for practising; two lines coming up within six yards of one another, and firing in one another's faces till they had no ammunition left: nothing could be more ridiculous."[4]

So, while the Prussian infantry may have been at the cutting edge of tactical development in the 1750s, the British had clearly surpassed them in infantry maneuvers by the 1780s. I believe the lessons for reenactors are rather clear, and many reenactors are currently implementing these ideas. But what about wargamers?

Many rulesets make wheeling a more costly affair (in terms of inches available) than simply moving straight. European soldiers appear to have applied inventive solutions to the problem of wheeling, but how often do we see these abilities on the wargame table? I would like to offer the follow solution to the issue of changing front. As opposed to a manner requiring a move, any unit should be able to change front with no penalties following a check. In Dean West's Final Argument of Kings ruleset, this is called a TCT, or tactical competency check. If units fail this check in the movement phase, they should still be allowed to change front, but must fall into disorder. John Williamson is particularly clear that troops could perform this maneuver while under fire, and that it performed well, it would not impede their ability to return fire.[5]

Could our perception of wheeling in the American War of Independence need to be updated? Is this another area where British soldiers employed cutting-edge tactical thought, perhaps with questionable results? 

Finally, if anyone has information regarding the use of this maneuver earlier than 1743, please come forward! Frederick II was doubtless influenced by contemporary military thinking. Some have claimed that this practice is found in the Ordonnances du Roi, but I have yet to find a version before 1743 which describes changing front in this way.  Has anyone seen this tactic used in the Marlburian era?


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


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[1] Thomas Simes, The Military Instructor, 29.
[2] John Williamson, Elements of Military Arrangement, 50-52.
[3] Reglement vor die Königl. Preussische Infanterie, 1743, 130-132.; Fawcett, Regulations for the Prussian Infantry, 107-108.
[4] Cornwallis, Correspondence,  1859, vol I, 212.
[5] Williamson, Elements of Military Arrangement, 51. 

Book Review of For God and Kaiser: The Imperial Austrian Army

Cover Art

Dear Reader,

Today we are going to examine a new work covering the Austrian military from 1618 to 1918. Richard Bassett, a British journalist, has set out to rectify a problem. He argues the idea of Austrian writer Hermann Bahr, that "Austria has not been lucky with its biographers," also hangs true for the Austrian Imperial and Royal Army. It seems a bid odd to be making this case in 2015, when both Christopher Duffy and Franz Szabo have done so much to show that Austria had an effective military in the Seven Years' War. Indeed, Duffy is referenced in the acknowledgements as the first among equals of Seven Years' War historians, yet Bassett makes no reference to Duffy's magisterial two volume work on the Austrian army in the Seven Years' War.

As general work on the Austrian Army over the the three centuries, the work is successful, and may well (sadly, as will be shown) become a standard reference work and textbook. However, in the Kabinettskreige era, Bassett makes several glaring mistakes, which are exacerbated by the painfully few number of footnotes provided. Bassett gives an insightful overview of the Theresian military reforms of the 1750s, but comes into more trouble when describing the course of the Seven Years' War itself. As with some previous historians, Bassett sees Frederick II of Prussia more as a mustachio twirling villain than an actual historical figure. Like Szabo, (indeed, Bassett cites Szabo frequently, and for the following quote) Bassett seems to revel in ambassador Mitchell's description Frederick II (at 46) as, "an old man lacking half his teeth, with greying hair, without gaiety or spark or imagination." Once again, Frederick's slovenly habits are brought to the fore, as Bassett notes his predilection for wearing uniforms past the point of no return, and the many stains on his clothing. All of this makes for good reading, and poetic catharsis from the Austrian viewpoint, but does it help advance the narrative forward?

As in Szabo, Frederick becomes the scapegoat in a flimsy morality play, where Prussian defeats are Frederick's sole responsibility. Bassett relates manifold Prussophobic anecdotes, usually without footnotes. Frederick's practice of detaching independent commands is blamed for the defeat at Maxen, and Bassett clearly fails to note that such practices were often devastatingly successful, as when Frederick used a detachment to force the Russian army to retreat from positions surrounding Bunzelwitz. Bassett continuously suggests that Frederick is responsible for failures.

For God and Kaiser becomes almost unreadable when Bassett suggests that at Torgau, the Prussians took 24,000 causalities a to the Austrian 2,000. To put it mildly, such figures are historically irresponsible. Estimates for Prussia losses at Torgau range from around 17,000 to 25,000, and a figure of 20,000 might be plausible, considering the nature of the Prussian attack against massed artillery. However, Austrian losses were comparable,  considering the all-day of the battle, which ended in the Austrian army abandoning the field, (through no work of Frederick's, it has to be said: Hans Joachim von Ziethen's corps, and Johann Dietrich von Huelsen's heroic attack won the battle.)  Duffy's most recent total places the Austrian causality figures around 15,000, which though still a heavy loss on the Prussian side was not the one-sided massacre which For God and Kaiser suggests. This might be compared to the totals at Kunersdorf, where the Prussians lost 18,000 men to the allied total of 16,500. Were these losses which Prussia could ill afford, brought on by Frederick's unwillingness to abandon his preferred method of war? definitely. Did the Prussian king recognize this after Torgau? certainly.

1761 is glossed over as a year of rebuilding, Frederick's achievement at Bunzelwitz does not even warrant a reference, and the text quickly moves to a description of the death of the Tsarina, Elizabeth Petrovna, who was replaced by her nephew, Peter III, who admired Frederick. This led to Russia switching sides in the conflict, but only briefly. Indeed- like Szabo before him, and doubtless others afterwards, Bassett is confronted by the problem of the events of 1762. For those who say that Frederick had no skill and imagination in the Seven Years' War, that the Prussian army was a broken force, 1762 becomes a severe problem. The Prussian army was certainly rescued from destruction by Elizabeth's death, but as Christopher Duffy has suggested, this only brought the Seven Years' War back into the balance. The Prussians won the Seven Years' War in 1762. Frederick's victories at Burkersdorf and Reichenbach, and Prinz Henri's victories at Doeblen and Freiberg won the Seven Years' War. Bassett spends most of this year on the Austria defense of Schwiednitz- admittedly, a heroic endeavor.

Bassett closes out his description of the Seven Years' War arguing that by 1762, the Austrian army was the most widely admired and emulated army in Europe. Clearly, then, Bassett has not heard of Prussomania. It should also be noted, Bassett spends a great deal of time discussing the Austrian success in the War of Bavarian Succession. Clearly, this would be a surprise for Charles IV Theodore of Bavaria, whose was placed on the throne of Bavaria as a result of Prussian military intervention (and perhaps more tellingly, Russian threats.) The Austrian army achieved spectacular feats in the Seven Years' War. They were well- led professional soldiers, who were able to score an impressive number of victories in their contest with Prussia. Kolin, Hochkirch, Maxen, and Landeshut all deserve to be remembered by Austrian soldiers with pride. But by making Frederick into a skin and bones scarecrow leading an army of ill-trained misfits, Bassett does a disservice to the past.

It may seem that I am nitpicking a rather small portion of Bassett's book, or that I have an ax to grind regarding Frederick II of Prussia. I would say that both of those observations are correct. Bassett's overly partisan account of the Seven Years' War takes his "history" into the realm of a morality play. If his book cannot be trusted to give an impartial (or even factual) account of eighteenth century Austrian military history, why should it be trusted to do so for the twentieth century? Indeed, the book resorts to blaming Prussia (and in turn Germany) for many of Austrians military failings, including when the German forces were allied with the k.u.k. army in the First World War. Bassett attempts to turn Holger Herwig's suggestions that the Austrian army dragged down German military capabilities on its head, suggesting that Franz Conrad von Hoetzendorf was prevented from winning World War One by telegrams from Berlin.

In attempting to promote Austrian military success, For God and Kaiser follows an excellent revisionist scholarly trend. In attempting to create a wildly successful Austrian Royal Army which outshone, and was impeded by failures in Prussian and German military professionalism, he falls for a mirage. Bassett creates an excellent overview of Austrian military history, suitable for those who have a passing interest in the Habsburg past, and no serious interest in reading more in depth works on particular periods. For individuals who are interested in a more detailed picture of the past, eschew this work in favor of more focused studies.


Thanks for Reading,



Alex Burns

Valley Forge vs. the Bunzelwitz Position

The view north from Prussian positions at Bunzelwitz towards the modern
village of Czechy

Dear Reader,


In the mythos of Kabinettskriege conflict, the modern mind is drawn to aggressive action. Those alive to a sense of the past might recall Karl XII's Karoliner attacking through ice-strewn fields at Narva or Fraustadt, the daring attacks by George Washington at Trenton and Princeton, Wolfe's men scaling the heights at Quebec, or Frederick II of Prussia's masterpiece at Leuthen. Today, we are going to examine something a bit less glamorous, but no less vital to securing the reputation of these great commanders: positional warfare.

The two positions under comparison are George Washington's 1777/1778 winter encampment and defensive position near Valley Forge, and Frederick II of Prussia's defensive position in the autumn of 1761, near the fortress of Schwiednitz. We will examine the Prussian position in the Seven Years' War first, before moving to the American winter encampment.

Frederick II, King of Prussia

George Washington, (no cool royal title)

Although known for his aggressive attacks, Frederick II was also a master of defensive positional warfare. In 1761, Frederick faced disaster when two larger Austrian and Russian armies combined against him. Six years into the conflict, the Prussian army had only 54,000 men with which to face the Austrian and Russian armies combined total of some 140,000 men. Desperate to retain his position in the Prussian province of Silesia, Frederick assumed a defensive position near Schwiednitz, his vital Silesian fortress.  Frederick knew that his troops were no longer of a superior enough quality to risk open battle against such stacked odds.

Positions: Prussian (Blue) Austrian (White) and Russian (Green)

This position, which centers on the modern town of Jaworzyna Slaska (which did not exist in the eighteenth century) saw  39,000 Prussian infantry in a line some 7 miles/11.5 kilometers in distance. Frederick correctly identified the salient around Wickendorf and Jauernick (present-day Witkow and Stary Jaworow) as vulnerable part of the line. Though the Prussian position was not geographically formidable, (certainly nothing like the Zobtenberg east of Schwiednitz) Frederick was able to use heavy field fortifications combined with gently sloping ground in order to offer a truly daunting defensive perimeter.

Photos of the modern-day position capture some of the ground's tactical usefulness.

The view just West of Stary Jaworow (Jauernick) looking north towards the Prussian Nighttime HQ

Prussian defensive positions in between Stary Jaworow and Czechy (Jauernick and Tschechen)

Approach ground of planned Austrian attack in on the Position

Prussian position opposite the previous image

View towards Austrian positions near the Nonnen-Busch (forest underneath Grochotow on the map)

Prussian Positions across from the Nonnen-Busch

The Prussian position, then, did not take its strength from geographic features, but from the clear, sweeping fields of fire which the position afforded Prussian artillery. Frederick had 182 guns in and around Bunzelwitz, and he positioned most of them into redoubts which crisscrossed the ground with lanes of fire. Indeed, despite his failing health, so often cited by historians who dismiss Frederick as past his prime as a commander in the Seven Years War, Frederick spent every night at Bunzelwitz at the fortifications with his men. Hussar Captain Warnery reported that during the Bunzelwitz days,"Officers and soldiers alike had to live on bread and water. So as to set an example to the soldiers, the king made a point of staying every night in one or other of the batteries, where he had a bale of straw brought up to serve as his chair."[1]

The Austrians developed a plan for a grand attack on the Bunzelwitz encampment, but this attack stalled when Frederick destroyed Russian supply depots in Poland by means of a raid, forcing part of the Russian army to withdraw. Although Frederick was forced to abandon the Bunzelwitz position when the fortress of Schwiednitz was captured, this position bought vital time for Frederick, from August 20th to October 6th. This month and a half could have brought disaster for the Prussian army, with vastly superior forces present in theatre against a smaller Prussian army. Instead, Frederick and his soldiers survived in order to enter winter quarters late in 1761, where they would receive the news that Tsarina Elizabeth Petrovna had died. While this news did not mean an immediate end to the war, it did mean the Russians would switch sides in 1762, bringing the war back into roughly equal terms, and allowing Frederick to seize victory.

National Park Service map of the defenses at Valley Forge

I had the pleasure of visiting Valley Forge National Historical Park for the first time over the last weekend, and I was pleasantly surprised by what I saw there. George Washington utilized excellent defensive terrain in order to winter his army less than twenty miles from substantial British forces. When considering Valley Forge, generally historians gloss over  the defensive nature of the position in order to discuss issues such as the deprivation, sickness, and professionalization of the Continental Army. However, much like the Prussian position at the Bunzelwitz, Valley Forge was chosen with defense in mind. The continental army required a defensible location close enough to continue observation of the British force in Philadelphia. While a winter offensive by British General Howe might not seem likely, it was certainly a possibility, considering Washington's own actions the year before, as well as Frederick II's winter offensive in Silesia in 1757.

The outer line of defenses consisted of a number of infantry brigades occupying a ridge. The fields of fire on this ridge are truly impressive. Behind the initial line, the American position had a further set of defenses on the high ground in between the army's camp and Washington's HQ near Valley Forge. The defensive positions at Valley Forge provided a haven for the army to survive the winter, and allowed for a renewed and retooled Continental Army to prosecute the war successfully against the British in the following years.

 Here are a few photos of the defensive lines at Valley Forge.

The view from just west of the Redan near Muhlenberg's Brigade, facing southwest.

The opposite view, towards the outer line from south of Poor's Brigade, facing northeast.

The southwestern extremity of the outer line, held by Scott's Brigade

From behind the artillery park, facing southeast towards the outer defense line

Now that we have examined both of these positions, some comparison needs to be made. First of all, in my opinion, Valley Forge is much more geographically impressive than position around Bunzelwitz. This is especially apparent terms of the sweeping fields of fire the south of the outer line defenses. The high ground around the inner line at Valley Forge is higher than almost any portion of the Bunzelwitz position, perhaps excepting the Wuerbenburg behind Bunzelwitz.

 Considering the smaller numbers of troops engaged, it should not surprise us that the defenses at Valley Forge are considerably smaller than Bunzelwitz: stretching around 2 miles compared with to Bunzelwitz' 7. However- this is telling. Frederick's infantry were stretched thin at Bunzelwitz, and he had 39,000 men to defend a 7 mile frontage, or around 5,500 per mile. By that calculation, it would seem that the the roughly 7,000 (allowing for desertion and sickness) available to Washington in the early winter would have been inadequate to defend the frontage in the case of an attack. This calculation appears to have even more weight when considering the number of cannon available to both armies. At Monmouth the following year, the Americans seem to have had 16 cannon, but supposing at Valley Forge they had double that number, their position would still have been dangerously short.

Another point worth consideration is the location of the headquarters. The Prussian army manned the Bunzelwitz position in 12 hour shifts, with the night headquarters being much closer to the lines, practically in Jauernick. By contrast, the American headquarters was a mile and a half away from the outer line of defense. While certainly the possibility of attack at Bunzelwitz seemed an imminent reality in a way it did not at Valley Forge. In the advent of a British attack, would valuable time have been lost, making the trek from the headquarters to the outer line?

In the final accounting, Washington's position at Valley Forge was naturally stronger than Frederick's at Bunzelwitz. However, the weakened state of the Continental Army and the smaller number of cannon at the Continental's disposal made the position at Valley Forge tenuous. Both of these eighteenth-century commanders proved their worth, and both of these defensive positions were formidable, and continue to be imposing today.

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


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[1] Warnery, Campanges de Fredriec II, 1788, 474

Battle Comparison: Hochkirch and Germantown

Battle of Germantown, della Gatta

Dear Reader,

Today, I want to examine the similarities and differences between two Kabinettskriege era battles, the Battle of Hockirch, which occurred in Saxony on October 14th, 1758, and the Battle of Germantown, which occurred outside Philadelphia on October 4th, 1777. In the first battle, Frederick the Great and his Prussian soldiers squared off against the Austrians under FM Daun. In the second battle, British General Howe led a expert force of British soldiers against George Washington's American rebels.  Aside from the obvious similarities in the weapons systems of the combatants, and the time of the year in which they were fought, these battles contain a number of important similarities useful for students of eighteenth century warfare. A brief description of the two battles will help contextualize the analysis.

In early October, 1758, the Prussian army had recently suffered a setback in its invasion of Moravia, and failed at the siege of Olmütz. However, now that they had returned to Prussian occupied territory, they could rightly expect to return to the string of victories which had previously marked Prussian operations under Frederick. After all, in the previous year, a difficult series of defeats in the summer had been replaced by the crowning achievements of Prussian military history: the twin victories at Rossbach and Leuthen.

The Austrians, on the other hand, had fewer reasons to expect success. Although they had defeated the Prussians at the battles of Kolin and Breslau, they had been horrendously defeated by a smaller force at the Battle of Leuthen the previous year, while their victory at Breslau was a result of superior numbers.

The original Prussian positions are in light blue, note the numerous Austrian attacking columns

Noting that the Prussian position around Hochkirch was spread out, and that in the theatre of operations the Prussians had at most 40,000 men with which to defend against his 78,000, Daun decided to attack. The brainchild behind the attack was Austrian Colonel Charles Amadei, who Christopher Duffy asserts was inspired by the multiple Austrian columns used to attack at the Battle of Moys in 1757. A night march on the evening of the 13th-14th of October brought the Austrian attacking columns to within striking distance of the Prussian positions, close enough to hear music and dancing. This decision to attack in separate columns was a novel and almost untried tactic in the 1750s.

At 5am on October 14th, the Austrian attacking columns burst from cover, overwhelming shocked Prussian pickets, and moving to the attack with great speed. The Austrians had achieved complete surprise, through a mixture of false information spread to the Prussian army, and leaving their main camp attended by a few men of each company. Though the Prussians were often only half-dressed, they maintained an effective resistance in the opening stages of the battle, slowly falling back towards the village of Hochkirch.

The fighitng in Hochkirch, as imagined by 19th century artist Karl Roechling

As the Prussians were pushed back on the village, Prussian FM James Keith began feeding fresh units into the desperate fight developing in the midst of the village. Prussian infantry Regiments 13 and 18 led the way, though both were knocked back by canister fire, and FM Keith was killed. By around 8am, the Prussian position was collapsing, and Prussian infantrymen recalled firing over 120 rounds in this furious engagement.[1] Many Prussian positions were only taken after the infantry had fired away all their ammunition. Prussian sources also note the accuracy of the Austrian fire, which wounded a disproportionate number of officers.

The Prussians were driven from the field, and lost some 9,100 men out of a total of 30,000 engaged, and 104 pieces of artillery. The Austrians, by contrast, lost some 8,000 men out of around 60,000 engaged. With the events of the first battle described, let us move to the second.

The Battle of Germantown

During the opening stages of the American War of Independence, the British army soundly defeated the Americans time and again. Throughout many of the battles of 1776, with the notable exception of Trenton and Princeton, British and German forces overcame the American opposition, and seemed to be winning the war. Indeed, the British had defeated the Americans only a month before at the Battle of Brandywine.

However, George Washington's Continental army had been slowly improving, and Washington decided to risk another battlefield encounter with the British forces under General Howe. In his account to congress on October 5th, Washington indicates that Howe's decision to split his army prompted Washington to attack. The numerical advantage lay with Washington's forces, but it was not decisive: the Americans had 8,000 regulars and 3,000 militia with which to confront the 9,000 British and German troops under General Howe.

The American plan of attack called for four columns to make a night march, and then attack simultaneously at 5am. Leaving their camp around 7pm on October 3rd, the American forces were to reach their forward positions two miles from the British lines by 2am. They approached within musket-shot by 4am. Almost immediately, the American reality failed to mesh with the plan. The American columns did not reach the British pickets until 6am, and only two of the four columns made the attack. The British 2nd Battalion of light infantry moved into support the pickets, and the Americans drove them back with great difficulty. General Howe, not realizing the severity of the enemy force to his front, chided the fleeing light infantry streaming past him, until the magnitude of the American attack became apparent.

Cliveden, the house of Loyalist Justice Chew

As the American attack intensified, British Lt. Colonel Thomas Musgrave located a tactically significant structure- the stone house of Loyalist Judge Benjamin Chew.  Musgrave took initiative, placing 120 men of the 40th Regiment inside the house, which they proceed to defend. The main battle-line stabilized a third of a mile south of the Chew house. However, a number of American units remained behind to besiege the structure. Both of the commanders on the American flanks, Armstrong and Smallwood, failed to apply pressure to the British units in their sector of the battlefield.

The American advance was initially effective as a result of the large volume of fire put out by the 1st and 2nd Maryland Brigades, however, as these brigades moved into contact with more British units, the Marylanders ran out of ammunition. With no ready solution presenting itself, individual men began to move towards the rear, showing their officers empty cartridge boxes to demonstrate that it would be idiotic to stay and fight. A thick blanket of fog, smoke, and noise from the fighting back at the Chew house also served to disorient the advancing American line. The British would counterattack the American positions, relieving the defenders of the Chew house, and begina lackluster pursuit of the American army.  The action had lasted barely four hours.

The British and American forces suffered comparable numbers of killed and wounded, 673 Americans to 520 British. In addition to their killed and wounded, the Americans lost some 450 men taken prisoner.  What made the battle so costly for the Americans, as Washington admitted to Congress on October 7th, was the American loss of men.

What can be learned?





In both circumstances, the army on the attack had previously suffered a series of defeats at the hands of their adversary. Both attacking commanders saw an opportunity to strike at a smaller enemy force. Both attacking armies were less experienced than their foe, and becoming more experienced in the course of the conflict. Both attacking armies sought to use a relatively novel way of attacking in order to take their enemy by surprise along a wide frontage.

Both defending armies were taken unaware by this novel system of attack. The British and Prussians fought obstinately to buy time in order for more units to come up and attack the enemy.  Both defending armies saw subordinate commanders utilizing initiative in order to salvage the situation.

When losses are examined as a percentage of total armies involved, the Prussians suffered by far the heaviest, as around 33% of their total force engaged became casualties.  By contrast, the British suffered the least, with rough 5% of their total force becoming casualties. However, the Prussians did inflict a larger loss on their opponents than the British, with 13% of the Austrian army rendered hors d'combat, compared with 10% of the American fighting force. However, these figures fail to show the true nature of the fighting. Assuming 40% of the Prussian casualties were men captured, (sadly, Prussian losses are not broken down) the Prussian army, in terms of killed and wounded, inflicted a 32% greater loss on the Austrians than they suffered. The British, by contrast, inflicted 23% greater number of killed and wounded on the Americans.

So while the fighting at Germantown was costly to the Americans, the fighting at Hochkirch was some of the bloodiest of the eighteenth century, and left its mark on the Prussian army. It is remarkable that both of these battles played out over the course of only 4 hours.

The American rebels failed to launch an organized attack in the same manner of the Austrians. While FM Keith might have played a more decisive role on the battle if he had lived, his piecemeal counterattack wrecked two of the better infantry regiments in the Prussian army, and did nothing to stem the Austrian tide. By contrast, Lt. Colonel Musgrave saw an opportunity to effectively delay the American advance, and his quick thinking my well have saved the British army under General Howe. Both the Americans and the Prussians struggled with ammunition problems as the battle ensued. While the Prussians were able to keep their infantry supplied via ammunition wagons for the majority of the fight, the American infantry appear to have turned back when their initial ammunition load ran empty. However, for both armies, a lack of ammunition effected the overall outcome.

Attacks by disparate columns would continue to play an important role in warfare, and the generals on the defeated sides would learn from these defeats. Oddly enough, Washington does not mention Hochkirch as his inspiration for the plan at Germantown, though many his plans were the same, down to the letter. Frederick II, who mentioned Germantown in several of his letters during the American War of Independence, did not mention any similarities to between these two battles. These battles, though firmly rooted in Kabinettskriege era warfare, show similarities to later styles of army organization, and presage ideas about divisional level systems of army management.

How should wargamers emulate these battles? Is it good to have two different systems for the AWI and SYW? Could/Should one system capture both eras?


For further information, check out By Force of Arms, by Christopher Duffy, and volume two of The Philadelphia Campaign, by Thomas McGuire.


Thanks for Reading,




Alex Burns


[1] Ernst von Barsewisch, Meine Kriegs-Erliebnisse, 77.

Frederick II, "the Great" of Prussia as a military commander

A Flute Concert at Sanssoucci 

Dear Reader,


Few figures in the Kabinettskriege era have attracted so much attention as Frederick II of Prussia. He has been the subject of numerous biographies, and his actions changed the face of European power dynamics. If I was to recommend one biography, it would have to be that of German historian Gerhard Ritter. It is available both in the original German, and in English.  However, many have tried to give their take on the life of this, "Great Man."

Thomas Carlyle, a biographer and pseudo-historian of the nineteenth century wrote a massive biography of Frederick. Carlyle believed that Frederick's choices had changed the course of history, and that he was a, "Great Man." Needless to say, Carlyle downplayed Frederick's more feminine qualities, such as his love of the French language, his flute playing, and his possible homosexuality.

In the most recent monograph on the Seven Years' War, Franz Szabo's The Seven Years' War in Europe, Szabo demonizes Frederick. In Szabo's opinion, Frederick was, "an opportunist and risk taker, dressed in the veneer of an intellectual, but at root, a heartless killer." He lambasts Frederick's dental hygiene,  flute playing ability, and poetry. He rightly points out that Frederick lost half of the major battles during the Seven Years' War, and uses this as evidence that Frederick was a poor commander.

The Prussian army won all the battles of the War of Austrian Succession, and won a string of victories at both the beginning and end of the Seven Years' War. Frederick was involved in many of these battles, but he was not exclusively responsible the victories or defeats. Szabo's greatest fault is that he attributes all Prussian victories to other leaders, while the defeats are Frederick's sole responsibility.

Friedrich und seine Generale

One of Frederick's greatest talents was his ability to see talent in others. In addition to being a capable military commander, Frederick surrounded himself with excellent military men, who served him well, even when his judgement was in error. Schwerin saved the day at Mollwitz, and Seydlitz won the victory at Rossbach.

Frederick had expansionist designs for his kingdom: that is, he was willing to fight wars with his neighbors to expand his territory. However, Peter I of Russia and Louis XIV of France also fought expansionist wars: it was a normal activity for kings in the Kabinettskriege era.

As the debate concerning Frederick and his "greatness" continues into the 21st century, I would like to see more emphasis placed on the actions and decisions of Frederick's generals, who have stood in the shadow of their king for too long. In addition, as opposed to examining Frederick's great victories such as Rossbach, Hohenfriedburg and Leuthen, and his defeates, such as Kolin and Kunersdorf, I believe we should pay more attention to his middling battles, such as Chotusitz, Soor, Lobositz, Prague, Burkersdorf, and Torgau. Finally, while this post has focused on Frederick as a military commander, we should also examine Frederick's "greatness," in non-military matters.

What do you think of Frederick II? Let us know in the comments below.

Thanks for Reading,

Alex Burns

Glass in the Kabinettskriege Era

Various Glassware-mostly Prussian in Origin

Dear Readers,

Today I had the singular fortune to go to the Corning Glass Museum, in Corning, NY. While there were many wonderful pieces at the museum not related to Kabinettskriege era warfare, I managed to find to find a few pieces that might be of interest.

A glass bearing the arms of William VIII of Hessen-Kassel

The eighteenth century German section was very impressive. There was an entire section of glassware made in Silesia, the province which Frederick II captured during the War of Austrian Succession.

A commemorative glass celebrating Frederick II of Prussia

However, the most interesting piece- at least to me, was this:

A commemorative glass, recording the Prussian armies victory in, "The Battle of Busau"

Prussian infantry in three ranks

According to the plaque, this glass depicts, "the Battle of Busau,"  in 1742. Strangely- this battle never occurred. Busau, (or as it is currently known, Bouzov,) was a town in the province of Moravia. My first thought was that this might be a alternate name for the Battle of Chotuwitz, which was fought in 1742. However, upon closer inspection, something else appears to be in the offing.

As stated above, the town of Busau (Bouzov), was in the province of Moravia. While it was not the sight of a battle, it was the site of some activity during the war. The back of the cup reads, "Sejour agreable," or in English, "a pleasant stay." Finally, the town of Busau is only 32 km from the town of Olmütz, a major fortress, which fell to Field Marshall Schwerin and the Prussians on December 26th, 1741. From there, the Prussian corps with Schwerin went into winter quarters in the towns around Olmütz, including Busau. It appears, during the winter of 1742, these Prussians had, "a pleasant stay."

Thanks for Reading,

Alexander Burns

November 1757

The lead-up to the Battle of Rossbach

Dear Readers,

Tomorrow is the 5th of November. The one day a year college students can pretend to be anarchists for a few hours. "Remember, Remember," the saying goes. Well, today, here on Kabinettskriege, I am going to take you to a different 5th of November. Forget the Gunpowder Plot. This 5th of November has much more significance to British history than a few disgruntled Catholics.

At the beginning of November, 1757, England, and the liberties of Englishmen everywhere, were in much greater danger than in 1605. The French had defeated the forces of the English king at the battle of Hastenbeck on the 26th of July, 1757. This led to the surrender of the army which fought for Britain, mostly comprised of Hessian, Hanoverian, and Braunschweiger soldiers. At surrender following the Convention of Kloster-Zeven, Britain had been all but knocked out of the Seven Years' War in Europe. This would allow the French to send more troops to serve in North America, potentially threatening England's overseas colonies.

The English could only hope for their allies on the continent, the Prussians, to somehow pull their European irons out of the fire. And in November 1757, this did not look very likely. The Prussians were reeling from three important defeats. On the 18th of June, 1757, King Frederick II of Prussia's army had been badly defeated at the battle of Kolin. On the 30th of August, a minor Prussian army had been defeated at the battle of Gross-Jägersdorf. And finally, On the 7th of September, the Prussians were worsted in the small battle of Moys.

The defeat at Moys was particularly damaging to Frederick II of Prussia. His most trusted friend, and confidant, Hans Karl von Winterfeldt, had been killed in this skirmish. Winterfeldt was Frederick's chief of staff, and spymaster. But even more importantly, he was Frederick's close personal friend. After being told of Winterfeldt's death, Frederick responded, "Einen Winterfeldt finde ich nie wieder. Er war ein guter Mensch, ein Seelenmensch. Er war mein Freunde." Roughly translated, "I will never find another Winterfeldt. He was a good man, a soulful man. He was my friend." For spiky old Fritz, close personal friendships did not come easy-he would often recall this as one of the greatest blows of the war.

After a year of repeated defeats, the English and the Prussians appeared as if they were about to lose the Seven Years' War.

In early November, Frederick was shadowing a French and Reichsarmee, which significantly outnumbered his own. Most historians agree that the French and Imperials had an army of between 38,000 to 44,000 men, and Christopher Duffy gives the figure of 44,750. Franz Szabo states without proof that the army had a, "total strength... about 30,000." Even if we accept Szabo's figure, we can generally agree that the French and Imperials had a generous margin of error over the Prussians, which historians agree had 22,000 men.

Ernst Friedrich Rudolf von Barsewisch, a twenty-year-old Fahnen-Cadet (Junior Ensign), recalled his experiences directly before the battle:

"On the 1^st of November, near Halle, an Imperial Corps burned 200 Ducats, plundered different locations during the night, and broke a bridge over the river Saale on the 2^nd. On this day, we constructed three bridges over the Saale. The 3^rd (of November) brought us to pass by Merseburg on the Saale, and we moved one mile passed Merseburg to Braunsdorf, and camped there. We marched three miles. Here, we stood close to the combined French and Reichsarmee force, so that our Advanced-Guard attacked and skirmished with their outposts.  During this night, His Majesty the King reconnoitered the enemy camp. They were met with a violent cannonade. On the Morning of the 4^th of November,  the army broke up, and his Majesty the King was minded to attack the enemy with his cavalry and the left wing of the army. But because the enemy army past with their flank in sight, the enemy in four detachments, in such a way that opened the camp, that the cavalry camped behind the infantry in a valley, meanwhile, constantly the Hussars and the Freibattalions  skirmished with the enemy. The headquarters was near Rossbach."

The battle that followed, on the 5th of November, would change the balance of power in Europe, and North America. Tune in tomorrow, to see how the epic battle on this 5th of November occurred, and how it changed western history.

Thanks for reading,




Alex Burns

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Book Review: The Seven Years' War in Europe

Dear Reader,

Today, we are going to take a look at the most recent monograph on the Seven Years' War: Franz A. J. Szabo's The Seven Years' War in Europe. This book covers the European theatre of the pivotal conflict in the Kabinettskriege era.

Sadly, for the reader, Szabo does not begin his story in the Kabinettskriege era. Instead, he takes us to 1945, and the last days in the Fuhrer bunker, where Adolf Hitler sat and stared at a portrait of King Frederick II of Prussia. Throughout the book, Szabo attempts to lay the crimes of German militarism, and Nazi Germany, squarely on the shoulders of Frederick II. Szabo pulls no punches in his attacks on Frederick, and assaults range from his abilities as a monarch, and his skill as a general all the way down to his proficiency as a flute composer and poet. Even his dental hygiene is addressed. The fact of the matter is, Frederick was an eighteenth century monarch, with plans to expand his realm. In this way, he was more like Louis XIV than Hitler. Laying the crimes of Nazi Germany at Frederick's feet show that Szabo has failed to understand the context of eighteenth century society and warfare. Frederick II of Prussia was not a nice man, historian Christopher Duffy best describes him as "spiky." This does not mean he was a Nazi forerunner.

However, despite these crippling biases, Szabo creates a readable narrative of the events of the Seven Years' War. He clearly favors the Austrians, and this book might be seen as an attempt at apologetics from the Austrian standpoint.  His narrative is primarily political and economic, he falls in trouble when discussing social and military affairs. An excellent example of this is his discussion of the Battle of Sandershausen in 1758, where he misunderstands other secondary sources, and fails to give an accurate depiction of the battle.

The book clearly outlines the causes of war, moves on to the war itself, and ends with the conclusion of peace in 1763. According to Szabo, the allies failure to dismantle Prussia was a tragedy for European civilization, and led Germany in an inexorable path to 1945. However, he fails to clearly show how the legend of Frederick the Great was used in order to cause the rise of twentieth century Germany, as that would show that a variety of factors, not merely Frederick, caused the rise of Nazi Germany.

Thanks for reading,

Alex Burns


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Soulful Soldiers

Dear Reader,


In the modern world, we associate soldiers and militarism with brutality, violence, and masculinity, (and by connection perhaps-stupidity.) Often, we read this stereotype into the past. As far as eighteenth century warfare is concerned reading the present into the past is a severe problem in historical thinking. Christopher Duffy addresses this issue in his excellent book, Military Experience in the Age of Reason. 

As much as modern literature and fiction might attempt to present the past accurately, this is a task for trained and professional historians. A perfect example of this is the excellent web-comic Family Man, by brilliant writer and artist Dylan Meconis. Meconis gives an excellent representation of Central Europe in the 1760s, (if you ignore the occasional vampire or werewolf) down to rabbit and wolf hunting with a Jägerbüsche. However, her detailed representation as just that, a representation. 

In order to be truly "historical," a work of non-fiction needs to draw on the writing of individuals who lived during that time, and other evidence remaining from the past. Returning to the premise of this article, some 18th century soldiers were certainly brutal, pipeclayed, villainous men, who raped, stole and murdered throughout Europe. However, many of the soldiers of the 18th century were not this type of man. Some were Seelenmensch- Soulful men. This was exceedingly evident in the Prussian army. Frederick the Great, for all his spikeness, was a man of great sensitivity and feeling. On the death of his general Hans Karl von Winterfeldt, he remarked, "He was a good man: a soulful man. He was my friend." 

How do we know that 18th century soldiers were soulful, you ask? Their writings. Many soldiers from 18th left behind a plethora of writings on military matters, but some also left poetry about their personal lives. These soldiers played music, wrote poetry, and attempted to bring culture into their world of death. Here is a selection of poetry from eighteenth century soldiers:

Miniatures of Hessian Soldiers

The first poem is by Johann Heinnrich Ludewig Grotehenen, a soldier who served in the Western German army during the Seven Years' War, under the command of Ferdinand of Brunswick. 

Ein Soldate bin Ich eben
I was only a soldier,
und steh vor meinen feind.
and stood before my enemy
In freud und lied muss leben
I must live in joy and song,
wie mirs gott Hat bereit
How God has prepared me!
und wenn ich stehe in feld
For when I stand in the field
und lieg in meinen zelt
and lie in my tent
Hab ich mich gott befohlen
Have I myself instructed God?
Er mags wie es ihm gefält
He makes things how he pleases.

The second is a selection from the 1759 Quebec campaign, by an anonymous author.  It describes the death of General Wolfe. The author here spells it Wolf.

The British at Quebec

The first part of the poem describes a young man who enlists because he is heart broken. The second part begins:

Then this brave youth took to the ocean,
to free America from those invasions;
He landed at Quebec, with his party,
to attack the city, being brave and hearty.

Wolf drew up his men in a line, so pretty,
On the plains of Abraham, before the city.
A distance from the town, the French did meet him.
With double numbers, they resolve{d} to beat him.

The French drew up their men: for death prepared.
In one another's face, they flood and flared.
Whilst Wolf and Montcalm together walked.
Betwixt their armies: they like brothers talked.

Then each took his place, 'twas of attire.
And then this numerous host began their fire.
Suddenly from his horse fell this brave hero,
You may lament his loss in fields of sorrow.

The French began to break their ranks and flying,
Wolf seemed to revive whilst he lay a dying--
He raised up his head, where the cannons rattle,
and to his army said: how goes the battle?

His aid-de-camp reply'd: 'tis in our favor.
Quebec and all her pride, nothing can save her.
She falls into our hands, with all her treasure.
O, reply'd brave Wolf: I die with pleasure.


Thanks for reading,

Alex Burns


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