Kolin: Why did Frederick lose?

Richard Knoetel's reimagining of Frederick and a Cuirassier after Kolin. 
Edited for Richard's apparent lack of understanding how shadows work.

Dear Reader,

This Sunday is the 260th anniversary of one of the most important battles in the Seven Years' War, the Battle of Kolin. In this battle, fought on June 18th, 1757, Frederick II of Prussia (Frederick the Great) lost for the first time in his military career. From the beginning of his military career as king in 1740, to the Battle of Prague, fought on May 6th, 1757,  Frederick had never lost a battle. Without delving too far into the narrative of the battle, this post attempts to establish why this battle was Frederick's first taste of defeat.

Christopher Duffy's map of the Battle of Kolin

If you want a narrative of the battle, and don't have any books by Christopher Duffy close at hand, try this site, or this one.

So: What explanations for the defeat have historians advanced in the past?

1) The Lost Cause explanation
According to this line of thinking, it was hopeless to expect the Prussians to win at Kolin. How could 34,000 Prussians ever hope to overcome 52,000 Austrians in a defensive position? Oddly enough, the folks in this camp are often cheering the most when 22,000 Prussians beat 42,000 Frano-Imperials at Rossbach five months later at Rossbach, or when 33,000 Prussians defeat 65,000 Austrians six months later at Leuthen.

2) The Overconfident Frederick explanation
According to this theory, such as advanced version advanced at the second link above, all of the success had gone to Frederick's head, and he did not respect the real threat presented by Daun and the Austrian field army under his command. "Like Lee at Gettysburg," in the words of the blogger above, Frederick believed that his men were invincible and that they could carry any position. If that is true, why didn't Frederick order frontal assaults more often? Why did maneuver and flanking still form such a key part of his strategy?

3) The Exhausted Prussians explanation
For believers in this explanation, the Prussian army was simply pushed to the breaking point by the the Battle of Prague on May 6th, 1757, and had not had sufficient time to recover. Christopher Duffy appears to be in this camp, quoting the following source:

"Never did troops march less willingly than did our men on this occasion - it was as if they were being led to a place of execution. They were shocked by the resistance the Austrians had put up [at Prague], and they feared the worst... our strength and courage seemed to have drained away."[1]

This is a hard idea to refute, supported as it is by primary source evidence. With that said, Warnery was writing over thirty years after the events. A quick examination of the service record of Prussian infantry regiments reveals that around 40% of the infantry regiments had not fought at Prague, while 60% had. In addition, as the day wore on, multiple units who had been engaged at Prague were moved from the rear of the Prussian army into the heaviest fighting.

An artist's re-imagining of the Prussian 2nd Battalion of Guards at Kolin

4) The Frederick's Tactical Blunders explanation
Frederick II's military reputation has suffered in recent years, as impartial (though incorrect) historians credit him with a 50/50 win-loss record, polemic Frederick-bashers place all blame for Prussian defeats on his shoulders, and even positive biographers note that he was more useful as a campaign planner than as a battlefield commander.  Could his plan have been flawed? Absolutely. Frederick would misjudge attacking a defensive position again in the Seven Years' War, at the Battle of Kunersdorf. However, his exact plan at Kolin seems to have made sense and been clearly understood by his generals. According to a Royal Page, Prinz Moritz von Anhalt-Dessau replied after the king's briefing: "No one can misunderstand it: It is so clear that no-one will make a mistake."[2] It is also reasonable to argue that Frederick's micromanagement might have cost him the battle, in that he ordered Prinz Moritz to form the line of battle too quickly during the main approach, preventing the Prussians from reaching the Austrian's flank. Upon forming the line of battle, Prince Moritz became dejected, believing that the battle was lost. [3] 

5) The Blundering Subordinates explanation
The previous anecdote may remind readers of the behavior of subordinates who believed that they were doomed to failure in other conflicts. Like the American Civil War lost-causers attempting to blame James Longstreet for what happened at Gettysburg, Frederick's subordinate generals have certainly been accused of failing the Prussian monarch at this critical juncture. In this view, Johann Dietrich von Hülsen, Prinz Moritz von Anhalt-Dessau, or Duke August Wilhelm von Bevern are responsible for the failure of the Prussian attack. By and large, these accusations are unfounded. Hülsen rose to successful independent command later in the Seven Years' War, winning smaller battles such as the Combat at Strehla. Prinz Moritz was also successful, and redeemed his reputation at Leuthen, but died in the course of the war. Bevern had shown great skill in commanding men on the battlefield, and would again, at battles such as Reichenbach in 1762.

6) The Austrian Military Competence explanation
This final explanation put forth by Christopher Duffy over his two-volume examination of the Austrian army in the Seven Years' War, makes the most sense. The Austrians knew Frederick's strategy and planned accordingly. A clever Austrian junior officer, Franz Vettesz, correctly predicted the Prussian plan of attack on the morning of the battle. Daun, the Austrian field marshal, quickly acted on this information. Seeing his path to victory, Daun used delaying forces such as Croats and light artillery to slow the Prussian attack under Hülsen while bringing the weight of his superior numbers to bear on the Prussian force.

With this in mind, the battle looks less like an Austrian Gettysburg and more like an Austrian Antietam. The Austrians correctly divined the Prussian plan, and defeated the Prussian army, but failed to capitalize their victory or, as was common in the eighteenth century, pursue their defeated foe. In addition, the battle was costly for the Austrian force.  When the 4,000 Prussian prisoners are removed from the equation, the Austrians and Prussians lost a very similar number of men (approx. 9,000) dead and wounded. Kolin was a hard fought Austrian victory. Rather than always looking for an explanation on the Prussian side of the equation, perhaps some credit is due to the men who earned it.

Austrian Grenadiers in 1748, David Morier

At Kolin, the Prussians fought hard and long, following a strategy that had previously been highly successful. They inflicted large losses on the Austrian army and exhausted the Austrians so much that a pursuit of the defeated Prussian army was impossible. Kolin ended a victorious chapter in the history of the Prussian army but did not end the Seven Years' War. It would take five more years of bloody conflict to draw this war to a close.

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

[1] Warnery, Campagnes de Frederic II, 135.
[2] Duncker, Aus der Zeit Friedrichs der Grossen und Friedich Wilhelm III, 90.  

[3] Ibid, 76. 

How many Major Battles did the Average Mid-Eighteenth Century Soldier fight in?

Reenactors portraying the men of Prusisan IR 4 and IR 12 anticipate the enemy

Dear Readers,

As a companion to my previous post on soldiers' ages, I would like to examine once again the quote that drew my attention so strongly:

"One old [British] veteran I observ'd (that was shot through both legs and not able to walk) very coolly and deliberately loading his piece and cleaneing it from the blood. I was surprised at the sight and asked him his reasons for it. He, with a look of contempt, said, to be ready in case any of the Yankeys came that way again." [1] 

In the previous post, we examined what an old soldier might look like, but what did it mean to be a veteran? Or, to ask the question with a slightly different set of criteria, how many major battles was the average soldier in during the Seven Years' War era (1754-1763)?

There has been relatively little research on this topic because the movements of individual soldiers are so hard to track down. A soldier might be with his regiment for one battle, in hospital for another, and transferred to a different regiment for a third. For the purposes of this data, it is assumed that soldiers remain with their regiments throughout the war. That is a big assumption, again, but one that allows us to see some interesting data patterns. On the other hand, when regiments took such heavy losses that they needed to be re-raised, I account for the idea that most the men in the original regiment were "new" men.

25th Regiment of Foot at Minorca, 1771, Cecil C. P. Lawson

What does this data look like? In order to answer this question, I compiled the service records of 100 infantry regiments, from five different nations in the Seven Years' War. In order to achieve a relatively balanced sample, I simply chose the twenty regiments by precedence from each major nation of the Seven Years' War. These Austrians, British, French, Prussian, and Russian regiments performed much of the major fighting of the Seven Years' War, and so might be a good benchmark to establish how many battles an "average" soldier went through. In this case, a battle means a large field engagement with over 15,000 men involved. Skirmishes, sieges, and combats were certainly deadly, and worth examining in their own right, but for the purposes of this post, we are going to look at major field battles.


So how many major battles did an average soldier go through in the Seven Years' War era?

The Assault at Hochkirck, La Pegna

As it turns out, between 3 and 4 major battles was quite average for the 100 regiments examined for the study. If you examine the memoirs of soldiers at the time, many of them describe a similar number of engagements. So, let's break this down by nation, and then by regiment, from lowest to highest.

British Grenadiers, Morier

British Army Average:  .85
Once again, this does not include the numerous sieges and assaults performed by British forces around the globe. Many regiments of British veteran troops had never been in a major field battle, but performed between 4-6 sieges or amphibious descents by the end of the Seven Years' War. Many more troops were on garrison duty in the home islands.

Notable Regiments: 
20th Regiment of Foot: 4 Battles (Minden, Klosterkampen, Vellinghausen, Wilhelmsthal)
8th Regiment of Foot: 3 Battles (Warburg, Klosterkampen, Vellinghausen [grenadiers only])
6th Regiment of Foot: 0 Battles (Gibraltar Garrison)

An artist's reimagining of two Russian officers in the Seven Years' War

Russian Army Average: 2.5 
The Russians fought quite well in the Seven Years' War, but only committed their forces to a relatively small number of battles, which impacted their total.

Notable Regiments: 
Novgorodskiy: 4 Battles (Gross-Jaegersdorf, Zorndorf, Paltzig, Kunersdorf)
Kazanskiy: 4 Battles (Gross-Jaegersdorf, Zorndorf, Paltzig, Kunersdorf)
Ingermlandskiy: 0 Battles (Garrison duty in Russia)

French troops on the long march in the era of the Seven Years' War

French Army Average: 3.5
Much of the French army was deployed for garrison duty in coastal fortresses around France. However, a larger portion of their army (compared with the British) fought in the western German theater of the Seven Years' War.

Notable Regiments: 
Touraine: 7 Battles (Rossbach, Krefeld, Lutterburg, Minden, Warburg, Vellinghausen, Wilhelmsthal)
Champagne: 6 Battles (Hastenbeck, Krefeld, Bergen, Minden, Vellinghausen, Wilhelmsthal)
Eu: 1 Battle (Hastenbeck [The regiment suffered a horrible friendly-fire incident in this battle, and was placed on garrison service the rest of the war.])

Morier, Austrian Grenadiers in the late 1740s 

Austrian Army Average: 5.6
The Austrian Army was concentrated in a number of battles against Frederick II's Prussian forces in the central European theater of war.

Notable Regiments:
Baden-Durlach: 9 Battles (Lobositz, Reichenberg, Prague, Breslau, Leuthen, Hochkirch, Maxen, Torgau, Burkersdorg)
Botta: 7 Battles (Kolin, Breslau, Leuthen, Hochkirch, Maxen, Torgau, Reichenbach)
Kaiser: 4 Battles (Prague, Leuthen, Hochkirch, Torgau)

Prussian Troops, 1735

Prussian Army Average: 5.75
The Prussians were fighting on between two to four fronts at any time during the Seven Years' War. As a result, their totals are slightly higher than the Austrians.

Notable Regiments:
Prinz von Preussen: 9 Battles (Reichenberg, Prague, Breslau, Leuthen, Zorndorf, Hochkirch, Liegnitz, Torgau, Burkersdorf)
Itzenplitz: 8 Battles (Lobositz, Prague, Rossbach, Leuthen, Hochkirch, Liegnitz, Torgau, Burkersdorf)
Below: 3 Battles (Gross-Jaegersdorf, Zorndorf, Maxen [The poor Below regiment had the misfortune to be in two battles against the Russians, and also assigned to Finck's corps at Maxen. It ceased to exist as an effective fighting force.)]

So, as you can see, the average soldier from the Seven Years' War would have been a veteran of three or four major field battles, although much higher and lower totals existed.

Feel free to share if you know individuals who might be interested in these numbers.


Thanks for Reading,



Alex Burns


[1] Creswell,  A Man Apart, 171.

How Old was the Average Late-Eighteenth-Century Soldier?

Photo Credit: Jerry Wolford/Perfecta Visuals

Dear Reader,

This weekend I was reading for my dissertation, and I came across the following quote:

"One old [British] veteran I observ'd (that was shot through both legs and not able to walk) very coolly and deliberately loading his piece and cleaneing it from the blood. I was surprised at the sight and asked him his reasons for it. He, with a look of contempt, said, to be ready in case any of the Yankeys came that way again." [1] 

I asked myself: how old is an "old veteran"?

To answer this question, we are going to examine a topic near and dear to military and social historians, and reenactors, but perhaps less intriguing to wargamers. (Sorry guys, but I am sure you have plenty of lead to paint anyway.) As you consider military life, it may be natural to assume that soldiers are young. Men over the age of 25 rarely enter the military as recruits, and after age 26 are no longer eligible for the selective service system in the United States. War, it seems, is a young man's game. This trend has led to much commentary from intellectuals, from Herodotus ("In peace, sons bury their fathers, in war, fathers bury their sons.") to the present day.

I have spoken to reenactors who are old enough (refraining from specifics) that they feel sheepish at their portrayal of soldiers who were supposedly much younger: but is such sheepishness warranted? How old was the average eighteenth-century soldier?

As you look deep into the eyes of this Prussian Grenadier from the late 1730s, do you get the impression he is a young man?

Once again, I am standing on the intellectual shoulders of giants as I make this post. The leg-work for the present claims was performed by industrious historians such as Glenn Steppler, Sylvia Frey, and Willerd Fann and Claus Reuter. Their research and their arguments are well worth considering for those truly interested in learning more about the social life of eighteenth-century armies. By bringing their research together, we can hope to get a more accurate picture of the life in eighteenth-century armies.[2]

The data used to make these assertions is drawn from the British, Braunschweig and Prussian armies between the years 1775 and 1783. They rely on ages from a relatively small number of soldiers, (some 9,500) drawn from 17 regiments, twelve of infantry, and five of dragoons. With any amount of luck, social-military historians such as Don Hagist may be able to give us a better window into these questions in the future.

Soldier Study, Phillip James de Loutherbourg

The average age of these men appears to be 30 years old, which matches the individual assertions regarding the Prussian case (made by Willfred Fann) and the British case (made by Sylvia Frey.)  The two data sets from Prussian regiments are much larger, (some 3,000 out of the total) but from significantly different units, one containing much younger men in 1777, the other containing older men in 1783. On the other hand, Sylvia Frey's British data is skewed by the inclusion of the 8th Regiment of Foot. Her use of a 1782 return shows that the King's Regiment possessed an average age of almost 37 years old. As we discussed last month, in 1782, the King's Regiment was 14 years into a 17-year deployment to North America, so men who were young in 1768 had grown gray in service during their tenure in North America.

Recruits to the regiment, on the other hand, were much younger. In Prussia, the average recruit was in his early twenties. In Britain, peacetime recruiting seems to suggest that men between 16 and 25 were highly valuable, but in wartime, around of third of total recruits were men over the age of 26 years old.[3] The length of service also differed from state to state. The British average was just under 10 years (9.75), with the King's Regiment again moving the data towards the long end (14.7). In Prussia, the average length of service for in Musketeer Regiment von Hacke was 8.8 years, but the Grenadier company's average length of service was almost double that: an impressive 15.7 years. Data suggests that in German armies (Prussia and Hessen-Kassel) the average NCO served for much longer.[4] The oldest regiment of men between all three armies considered was Braunschweig Grenadier Battalion von Breymann, with the average age of 38 years old.[5]

The epitome of an old soldier: the 89 year-old Jean Thurel in 1788

However, as the title suggests, these are averages. The outliers are interesting in their own right. Both the British and Prussian cases include large numbers of men over 40, and unlike the British calculations, the Prussian regiments include a low number of men over fifty and a very small number of men over sixty. Men like Jean Thurel, despite the appeal of their stories, were very much a rarity even if they did exist.

Kabinettskriege warfare was an active business in the eighteenth century, and men in their prime were in high demand. However, the average soldier was an experienced man in his late twenties or early thirties, with close to ten years of experience in the service. Younger soldiers certainly existed, but they might be more susceptible to disease, having not built up the immunities necessary for the crowded conditions of military life. Perhaps this is why Frederick referred to the younger cantonists as "weakly boys" during the crisis Seven Years' War.[6] Middle-aged, experienced soldiers, not eighteen-year-old recruits, were the staple of eighteenth-century armies.

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] Creswell,  A Man Apart, 171.
[2] Sylvia Frey, The British Soldier in North America, 23-26; Willfred Fann, "On the Infantrymen's Age in Eighteenth Century Prussia, Military Affairs, (Dec. 1977)
[3] Steppler, The Common Soldier in the Age of George III, 229.
[4] Fann, "On the Infantrymen's Age," 168.; Atwood, The Hessians, 40.
[5] Reuter, Brunswick Troops in North America, xii.
[6] J. Preuss, Friedrich der Grosse: Ein Lebensgeschichte, Vol I: Urkundenbuch, 75.

Kabinettskriege Cavalry in Europe and America: How Important was it?

Reenactors portraying Austrian Cuirassiers at Terezin in 2011

Dear Reader,

There is a narrative that touches all levels of interest in our period. Academically, as the result of figures such as Victor Davis Hanson, this narrative asserts that western militaries, from the Greeks to the present day, have traditionally relied on infantry forces, with a brief hiccup in the middle ages.[1] In reenacting, it is a simple function of cost. How many reenactors, the fine gentlemen in the picture above excluded, can afford to maintain and feed a powerful warhorse, in addition to all of the other expenses of the hobby? Finally, in wargaming, there is a powerful belief that cavalry played a much less important role in the Kabinettskriege era than the later Napoleonic Wars. After being chased by a dragoon through the Virginia wilderness in outside Yorktown in 2014, I had to ask:  are these views supportable? That is the question that bears consideration today. Let us first look at Europe, before turning to North America.

A Swedish Regiment of Horse receives communion after battle, by Gustav Cederstrom

In conflicts in Europe between 1648 and 1783, cavalry played a vitally important role. Cavalry made up varying proportions of European armies in this period, from around 1/3rd (or even over 1/2!) of Swedish armies in the Great Northern War, to a much more common figure of 1/5 to 1/7 of most armies during the middle of the eighteenth century.

 Even if the confines of the period forbid us from examining the cavalry of Gustav II Adolph, we can still look at the Swedish cavalry of kings Karl X Gustav, and Karl XII. For both of these monarchs, cavalry played a pivotal role in their military success at battles such as Fraustadt in 1706.  Importantly, they did not view cavalry as a way to deliver firepower via the caracole (as had been common in the 1500s), but as a way to deliver a mass of mounted men towards the enemy at the trot or the canter. Charging at the gallop was not unknown, but relatively rare until the last few hundred paces before contact with the enemy.

Polish Winged Hussars 

Throughout the eighteenth century, cavalry took on an even more important role for powers facing the Ottoman Empire. Polish Winged Hussars were able to sweep Turkish forces away during the relief of the Siege of Vienna in 1683, and Russian Cossacks were able to negate the advantage held by the swarms of Ottoman Sipahi. Christopher Duffy has described the process of readying for war against the Ottoman Empire, and how Austrian cavalrymen were issued extra armor at the prospect of extensive hand-to-hand fighting against the Turks.[2]

Richard Knoetel's re-imagining of the Bayreuth Dragoons at Hohenfriedberg 

On the European battlefields of the mid-eighteenth century, cavalry played a decisive role time and again. Indeed, if we look at the battles of the War of Austrian Succession and the Seven Years' War, cavalry played a decisive role on numerous occasions, such as Hohenfriedberg, Rossbach, Zorndorf, Kunersdorf, Maxen, and Reichenbach.  Although most useful as a weapon for chasing down a defeated enemy, cavalry could deliver smashing blows, ending a battle in their own right. Rossbach itself was a victory of Prussian cavalry almost by itself, the Prussian infantry played a secondary shaping role. At Hohenfriedberg and Kunersdorf, cavalry was able to seize upon the decisive moment, sweeping the enemy army from the field at the climax of the battle. In a lecture given at the meeting of the Seven Years' War association in 2016, Christopher Duffy suggested that a cavalry wing commander was one of the few individuals with almost absolute autonomy on an eighteenth-century battlefield.  

The charge of Prussian Cuirassiers at Zorndorf 

Indeed, one of the reasons for Prussia's survival and victory in the Seven Years' War was the high quality of Prussian cavalry, thanks to the reforms of Frederick II and the input of Hans Karl von Winterfeldt. Under the control of men like Friedrich Wilhelm von Seydlitz, and Hans Joachim von Ziethen, the Prussian cavalry became a battle-winning weapon. The charge of the Bayreuth Dragoons at Hohenfriedberg certainly wormed its way into the canon of Prussian mythology. Even after Frederick the Great complained that his infantry soldiers consisted of "weakly boys" the Prussian cavalry proved its effectiveness time and again late in the Seven Years' War. 

But what about warfare in North America? 

Some Continental Dragoons run into trouble at the Battle of Eutaw Springs

Well, first of all, cavalry obviously did not play an equally important role in North America. Among other problems, horses in North America were less readily available for military use. Aside from the Corps du Cavalry, horsemen played almost no role in the French and Indian War. Throughout the American War of Independence, cavalry forces often operated at the fringes of the larger combats, playing an important role in the war of outposts. Historian Matthew H, Spring has gone as far to suggest that the lack of cavalry played an important role in the development of quick-moving, shallow, open order tactics utilized by the British throughout the war.[3] 

Recreated dragoons at the Battle of Guilford Courthouse (Photo Credit: Dan Routh Photography)

However, particularly in the southern campaign, cavalry began to take on a new-found importance towards the end of the war. Daniel Murphy has written a couple of very good posts on this subject over at The Journal of the American Revolution.  Especially in the southern campaign, cavalry played an important, if not always decisive role at battles such as the Waxhaws, Blackstock's Farm, Cowpens, Guilford Court House, Hobkirk's Hill, and Eutaw Springs. 

What does all this mean for historians, reenactors, and wargamers? Although large models, (such as Hanson's western way of war thesis) may be convenient to teach undergraduate courses, they need to be carefully qualified in serious study of the past. In the eighteenth century, cavalry was not simply waiting to be pushed off the stage by the advent of smokeless powder and repeating rifles: it still played a vital role in warfare. 

For reenactors, using horses can be indimitating, expensive, and dangerous. I have personally been at a reenactment and witnessed horse-related injuries occur (to a person, the horse was fine.) However, having proficient mounted reenactors adds a layer of realism (not talking about the injury, here) to reenactments. There is nothing more frightening than seeing a line of horses barreling towards you. 

For wargamers, taking eighteenth-century cavalry seriously is a vital step in modeling the conflict of this era. I have heard many wargamers refer to players assigned to cavalry commands as "General Kill-Cavalry," the idea being that cavalry have no purpose other than to kill one another. While such actions did indeed occur, cavalry also swept infantry from the field at Kolin, Rossbach, and Kunersdorf. I have never seen anything like the charge of the Bayreuth dragooner on the tabletop, and in most rulesets, such an occurrence would be impossible.  Should spectacular equestrian phenomenon like this be allowed? Even designed for?  

Although not as decisive in North America as in Europe, it is foolish to ignore the role played by cavalry during the Kabinettskriege era. Infantry may well have been the queen of battle, but cavalry played a vital role on the battlefield and certainly possessed the ability to decide the course of an action if managed correctly. This ability was recognized by competent commanders on both sides of the Atlantic, such as Friedrich II of Prussia, Leopold Joseph von Daun, Charles Cornwallis, Daniel Morgan, and Nathaniel Greene. Infantry provided stability and firepower, but cavalry gave commanders flexibility and striking power. 

Feel free to share this post if you know individuals who would find it intriguing. 

Thanks for Reading, 

Alex Burns 

[1] Hanson, Western Way of War, 9-10. For its widespread acceptance among academic military historians, see: Parker eds, The Cambridge History of Warfare,  2-3. 

[2] Duffy, Military Experience in the Age of Reason, 279-80.

[3]Spring, With Zeal and With Bayonets Only, 161. 

The Importance of Siege Operations in Kabinettskriege Europe and North America

British reenactors portray men at the head of the sap during the 1759 Siege at Fort Niagara. 

Dear Reader,

Having recently returned from a reenactment at Fort Niagara, and enlivened by the prospect of returning there for their July French and Indian War event, I would like to pose a question: why is the focus of military historical research, reenactments, and wargames so often focused on the great field battles of the eighteenth century, when sieges were so common?

How common were sieges, you ask? Depending on your definition of how many troops engaged constitutes a "battle" there are between 33 and 88 battles in the Seven Years' War era. However, some of those are as small or smaller than battles such as Cowpens in the American Revolution. In the same era, 32 sieges took place,  even discounting a number of siege like events, such as the blockade of Manilla by pro-Spanish rebels. So, depending on your definition of battle, sieges and battles were occurring on something between a 1 to 1 ratio, and 1 to 2.75 ratio.

During the American War of Independence, once again, there are something between 22 and 57 major battles. In the same time, there were around 23 siege operations (when you include European or Caribbean sieges, this number moves much higher) although around half of these, such as the Assault on Fort Washington, or the Assault on Fort Mercer, were not formal European sieges. Once again, depending on your definition of battles, you have somewhere between a 1 to 1 ratio and a 1 to 2.5 ratio.

In terms of scholarly research, I am once again standing on the shoulders of giants. Christopher Duffy has three fantastic books on the subject, (although only two reference the eighteenth century) and for those who can read Polish, Grzegorz Podruczny has written two fine books on Prussian fortresses in the era of Frederick II. However, reenactors and wargamers have been somewhat less quick to represent and simulate sieges in their hobbies. Fort Niagara has an excellent siege event in early July, and Tod Kershner and Dale Wood wrote a handy siege wargame ruleset in the second edition of Warfare in the Age of Reason, but this aspect of both hobbies could be greatly expanded.

A much later depiction of the Siege of Charleston in 1780

Sieges were vitally important for military success in eighteenth-century Europe and North America. Frederick seriously contemplated surrender when he lost the vital fortresses of Schweidnitz and Kolberg in 1761. In the American War of Independence, the largest surrenders of troops came after formal sieges: Charleston in 1780 and Yorktown in 1781. In the American case, it was the largest surrender of American troops until 1862, and in the British case, it stopped serious fighting on the east coast for the duration of the conflict.

Siege of Landau, 1702

Siege of Savannah, 1779

So, what did sieges look like in the Kabinettskriege era? Oddly enough, sieges are one of the areas we can observe a great deal of continuity in Kabinettskriege warfare. Click on and compare the above images. If you look carefully, you will be able to many of the same ideas and representations of siege tactics in both, despite the 77 year gap in the events they depict. What was the process of laying a formal siege in the eighteenth century? For this reference the image below.

Copied from Vauban's Manual on attacking Fortresses, written in 1704, published in 1829.

Unlike the common reenactorism (thanks to the Last of the Mohicans film) all was not over when besieging mortars ranged in on the enemy fortress. While often extremely deadly, mortars did not always play the decisive role.There was a quite formal and methodological approach to taking a fortress. In order to slowly reduce a fortress, the attacking army would first invest (or blockade) the fortress and open negotiations with the place's commander. Then, they would begin building three types of entrenchments: parallels, (support trenches) saps, (approach trenches) and batteries (cannon emplacements facing the fortress).

A siege at the beginning of the Kabinettskriege era, in the mid-17th century

The first stage of entrenchment was digging the first parallel or furthest transverse support trench from the enemy lines. This would normally be done overnight, as engineers and working parties carefully approached to within 500 yards of the covered way, and began to dig. Hopefully, the attackers would finish the trench before morning, and the garrison would be presented with a solid entrenchment. The Russian army eschewed this practice. Their method involved bringing up heavy field pieces and bombarding the fortress in daylight, which served to cover the men working on the first parallel just behind the guns.

Siege of Charleston, 1780

After this, perhaps one or two days after the first parallel, troops would begin planting the first saps, or zigzag approach trenches, towards the enemy lines. This zigzag pattern prevented guns in the fortress from firing down the length of an approach trench. According to Christopher Duffy, artillery fire often commenced on the fourth or fifth day, and besieging soldiers were quite "gratified" to hear their own guns open fire.[1] Work continued until the zigzag trenches were within roughly 300 yards of the covered way, and then men began work on the second parallel or supporting trench.

Return fire from the fortress began to become increasingly deadly at this time. Fortress commanders faced a stark choice of when to begin the artillery duel with the besieging batteries. Wait too long, and the approach trenches would reach the fortress in record speed, open fire too early, and all your guns might be dismounted by enemy fire by the fire the besiegers were close to the fortress. Frederick II consistently advocated for opening fire as early as possible. Another Prussian, chief engineer Walrave, argued that in a siege "infantry fire is the most murderous of all weapons, therefore, everything must be done to utilize it."[2] Defenders sometimes issued forth from the covered way to sortie against the besiegers, sometimes around 12:00pm, when the attackers seemed to have been lulled into a false sense of security.

The final stages of a formal siege, copied from a 1704 drawing by Vauban

Upon reaching the edge of the glacis, or grassy slope running up tot he covered way, the besiegers dug their third parallel.At this point, the attackers feverishly worked to silence any remaining guns on the fortress, before carrying the covered way by storm. Once there, the attackers would bring up guns to breach the bastions and walls of the fortress, planting the 24-lbder guns necessary for the work on the lip of the glacis. Very few sieges in the eighteenth century reached this point, as many governors opted to surrender once the enemy reached the glacis.

Map of Loudon's assault on Schweidnitz 

Other options were open to the attackers aside from a formal siege. Austrian field marshal Loudon stormed the Prussian fortress Schweidnitz in the early morning hours of the 1st of October, 1761. French and American forces attempted the same type of manuever during the siege of Savannah in 1779, but without success. Storming fortresses by surprise could be incredibly effective, or incredibly deadly to attacking troops, depending on the situation.

 And what about mortars, you ask?

You often hear that John Prideaux was killed by a mortar round to the head as he inspected his own batteries at Niagara in 1759. Upon further review, it appears that he was hit in the head by a premature shell detonation from a howitzer. But to answer your need for a humorous and grizzly anecdote, I will give you one, once again drawn from the master, Christopher Duffy.

In 1717, during the siege of Belgrade, a Hessian soldier reported:

"there was a young pole present at the siege, who asked Prince Eugene for permission to fire off three bombs, declaring that he was willing to answer with his head if one of other of his bombs did not blow up the magazine in the Wasserstadt. Prince Eugene was perfectly agreeable, but since the gunners were too haughty to offer any help to our Pole, he had to betake himself to the Hessians. 

The Polack then aimed the mortar and got me to set off the charge. Nothing happened with the first two bombs, and while I was applying the match for the third time he called out: 'If I don't land the bomb on the roof this time I shall have to make myself scarce!' As it happened, the third bomb actually blew up the magazine. The whole town was reduced to ruins. Stones, timbers and Turks, (both in whole and in pieces) whirled through the air and were flung as far as the Imperial trenches.[3]

Certainly, the account ends showing the incredible potential for horror in siege operations.

As reenactors and wargamers plan their interpretations of the past, why not utilize the setting of the siege more often? Many eighteenth century commanders thought sieges were the ideal place to accustom green troops to hearing gunfire, and of training men in the hard work of military life. Sieges were a vitally important part of eighteenth-century warfare, one which we should not lose sight of in portraying the past. For reenactors, I would argue that it takes more than firing cannons at a fortress to simulate a siege. Get men digging, or if the historic site will not allow you to dig, make gabions and fascines in the place of trenches. Form work parties. Work through the night. Make surprise assaults on the covered way, or sorties at the besieging trenches.  For wargamers, good siege rulesets exist for the eighteenth century. Christopher Duffy even wrote a short one. All that remains is for you to incorporate these games into your conventions.


Please feel free to share this post if you know people and groups who might be intrigued.


Thanks for Reading,


Alex Burns

[1] Duffy, Fire and Stone, 111.
[2] Mueller, Geschichtes des Festungskrieges, 75.
[3] Op Cit, Duffy, Fire and Stone, 123.

What Percentage of Soldiers were Killed and Wounded in Mid-Eighteenth-Century Battles?

British reenactors attacked by continental dragoons

Dear Reader,

I thought I would follow up my previous post with a corollary: what percentage of soldiers were killed and wounded in eighteenth-century battles? Being an eighteenth-century soldier was a risky business, and not just from death on the battlefield. More soldiers perished from disease and inclement conditions than died from enemy fire on the battlefield. Indeed, this is a common feature of most pre-twentieth century wars, and Andrew Bamford has just published an excellent book on the subject in the Napoleonic era, entitled Sickness Suffering and the Sword: The British Regiment on Campaign 1808-1815.  Between 1740 and 1783, how many soldiers became casualties on the battlefield?

I hope this preliminary post will be interesting for any military history studying the collection of casualty data for this era. However, as with the previous post, I produce this mainly for reenactors and wargames, in a hope that their displays and simulations of eighteenth-century combat might be as accurate as possible. Like many wargamers and reenactors, I imagine, I have been party to events and scenarios where one side takes more than 50% casualties on a regular basis. How accurate are these representations? As in the previous post, I will aggregate data from a large number of battles in the era, and present the data in a number of different arrangements. In assembling this data, I examined 69 battles across the mid-eighteenth century.

It should also be noted: Christopher Duffy has already presented much of the data for the European Seven Years' War in two books: his second edition of The Army of Frederick the Great, and By Force of Arms: The Austrian Army in the Seven Years' War, Vol II.  In the case of the European Seven Years' War, I am truly standing on the shoulders of a scholarly giant. In terms of the statistics, I have included as losses men who were killed, wounded, missing, and captured on the battlefield. Large surrenders like Yorktown, Bennington, or Maxen only include soldiers who were captured in the course of the fighting, not in surrenders after the battle.

And a final note: these were all real men, with lives and hopes. To counteract the faceless nature of these statistics, read this letter from Frantz Reiß:

"all the while I stood in such danger that I cannot thank God enough for my health. In the very first cannon shots {my friend} Krumpholtz took a cannon ball through his head and the half of it was blown away, he was standing just beside me, and the brains and skull of Krumpholtz sprayed into my face and the gun was blown to pieces from my shoulder, but I, praise God, was uninjured. Now, dear wife, I cannot possibly describe what happened, for the shooting on both sides was so great, that no-one could hear a word of what anyone was saying, and we didn’t see and hear just a thousand bullets, but many thousands.  But as we got into the afternoon, the enemy took flight and God gave us the victory. And as we came forward into the field, we saw men lying, not just one, but 3 or 4 lying on top of each other, some dead with their heads gone, others short of both legs, or their arms missing, in short, it was a horrifying sight. Now, dear child, just think of how we must have felt, we who had been led meekly to the slaughterhouse without the faintest inkling of what was to come.”[1]

Total Average: 

Average percentage of losses suffered in combat, Europe and North America, 1740-1783:
(Battle sample size: 69) 14.552% 

Average by War 

War of Austrian Succession 

(Battle sample size: 9) 15.811%

Seven Years' War in Europe and North America

(Battle sample size: 33) 15.403%

American War of Independence

(Battle sample size: 27) 13.093%

La Pegna's depiction of the attack at Hochkirch

Average by Theater of the Seven Years' War

War in Central Europe (Brandenburg, East Prussia, Saxony, and Silesia)

(Battle sample size: 18) 20.522%

War in Western Germany (Hessen and Hanover)

(Battle sample size: 10) 9.11% 

War in North America (Canada and the Ohio Country)

(Battle sample size: 5) 19.4%

La Pegna depiction of Finck Surrendering at Maxen

Average percentage of loss by Nation/Army in the Seven Years' War (Highest to Lowest)

British(Outside Europe): 24.56%

Prussians: 22.8%

Russians:  21.92%

Austrians: 18.53%

French (Outside Europe): 14.4%

French (in Europe): 10.6%

Allies(British/Hessians/Hanoverians/et al in Europe): 7.58%

Don Troiani's Reimagining of Oriskany 

Average Loss by Armies in the American War of Independence (Highest to Lowest):

Americans and their allies: 16.80%

British and their allies: 12.09%

Notable Battles: 

Rossbach: Prussians 2.4% Franco-Imperials 24.1% : Average 13.3%

Zorndorf: Prussians 35.5% Russians 42.7% (highest  loss percentage of the SYW): Average 39.1%

Oriskany: Americans 55.4% (highest loss percentage in 18th century) British 18.6%: Average 37.0%
Eutaw Springs: Americans 26.3% British 44.1% : Average 35.2%

A Few Thoughts: 

The above data certainly surprised me in several areas. First of all, engagements like Zorndorf or Oriskany (which was much smaller but with a comparable percentage lost) did occur, but they were the exception, rather than the rule. On average, about 14.5% of men became casualties, and includes killed, wounded, missing, and captured on the battlefield. I was shocked by the relatively low casualties on the western front of the Seven Years' War in Europe and by the relatively high casualties suffered by the Americans in contrast to the British during the American War of Independence. I should say, the largest British losses in terms of percentage come near the end of the war, at places like Cowpens, Guilford Court House, Hobkirk's Hill, and Eutaw Springs. Finally, looking at the data for the Seven Years' War and American War of Independence, it does not appear as though a percentage of soldiers lost has any direct bearing on the outcome of the war. 

So, losing 40 men in a reenactment of 100 is possible, but not encouraged. Often, these losses were concentrated in a small number of units, such as the Royal Highland Regiment at Carillon, Regiment von Itzenplitz at Hochkirch, or the 1st Maryland Regiment at Long Island. So, while having a unit be destroyed or beaten up rather badly is accurate, taking above 40% losses for an army should not be. Likewise, wargamers should be able to quickly play battles in which armies are broken as a result of losses, but not destroyed by enemy fire.

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]Hans Bleckwenn, eds. Preussiche Soldatenbriefe Mit Einer Einführung Von Hans Bleckwenn, (Onsnabruck, 1982) 29.

How Long did Battles Last in the Mid-Eighteenth Century?

A group of reenactors led by David Moore, portraying a King's Royal Regiment of New York officer

Dear Reader,

Again, today we are going to examine an issue which sprang the to the forefront of my mind as a result of conversations which occurred (at the above reenactment) over the weekend. Namely: how long did eighteenth-century battles last? As we were standing in formation after the end of the Saturday battle at Fort Niagara, David Moore pulled out his pocket-watch and announced that from exiting the fort, to returning behind the curtain wall,  the battle lasted almost exactly 15 minutes. The other reenactors around me were somewhat astounded, as it felt as though we had been firing for much longer, and had shot through almost thirty cartridges in that time. How long did battles last in the mid-eighteenth century? Through examining the length of battles in Europe and North America between 1740 and 1789, I hope to come to some sort of conclusion regarding this matter.

In addition to writing something of historical interest for scholars and the public, I hope that this post could be useful for reenactors planning the length of their mock battles, and wargame designers who are attempting to fit the appropriate amount of action into a wargame turn. Wherever possible, I counted from when the two armies began to exchange small arms fire to the end of the combat.

Before presenting the data, I hope to closely define what is meant by "battles" "combats" and "engagements." By battle, I am referring to fighting which included more than 15,000 men engaged. By combat, I mean anything smaller than 15,000 total men engaged. By engagement, I mean a distinct fight within a battle between two opposing units, not protracted skirmishing. In example, Lobositz was a battle, with 60,000+ men engaged. White Plains was a combat with around 10,000 men engaged. The fight between Ephraim William's detachment and Baron de Dieskau's men before the Combat of Lake George was an engagement.

Finck Negotiates at Maxen

Results divided by the number of men engaged: 

Battles: (armies ranging from c. 150,000 to 16,000 men engaged, sample size: 34)
Average: 4.5 hours

Combats: (armies ranging from 15,000 to 1,300 men engaged, sample size: 18)
Average: 2 hours 45 minutes

Engagements: (individual unit combats ranging from 5,000 to 300 men engaged, sample size 10)
Average: 15-20 minutes

Germantown by Xavier della Gatta, 1782

Results Divided by War/Theatre (engagements excluded): 

Seven Years' War in Europe (sample size 30): 
Average: 4 hours and 15 minutes

Seven Years' War in North America (sample size 5): 
Average: 3 hours, 30 minutes

American War of Independence (sample size 16): 
Average: 3 hours, 20 minutes

Reenactors from the King's Regiment at Fort Niagara

Results Divided by Terrain in which Battle was Fought (engagements excluded):

Fought predominantly in Rough Terrain (woods, marsh, developed areas) (sample size 11):
Average: 5 hours 45 minutes

Fought predominantly in Open Terrain (sample size 40):
Average: 3 hours and 25 minutes

Notable Outliers: 

Rossbach (1757): 63,000~ men engaged, around 1 hour of combat.
Plains of Abraham (1759): 7,800~ men engaged, 30 minutes to an hour.
Torgau (1760) 105,000~ men engaged, around 7 hours of combat.
Oriskany (1777): 1,300~ men engaged, around 6 hours of combat.


A couple of thoughts:

The most pertinent factor to the length of battles in the mid-eighteenth century seems to be the terrain in which the battle was fought, rather than the continent or number of men engaged. Battles occurring in rough terrain, or slow attacks on developed areas seem to have bogged down, slowing the resolution of combat.

Combats between individual groups of infantry seem to last about 15-20 minutes in this era. For example, in the Battle of Liegnitz, there were 6 distinct engagements between groups of Austrian and Prussian infantry, in a battle lasting around two hours.[1] Considering the nature of the tactics Matthew Spring describes, it is possible that combat in the American War of Independence was resolved in an even shorter timetable.  Thus, we are left with battles that could last 5 hours or more, but relatively short combats of infantry occurring within those battles.


Thanks for Reading,



Alex Burns


P.S. I would be happy to share the collated datasets from which I drew the above information.


[1] Großer Generalstab, Geschichte des siebenjährigen Krieges, Vol 4, 92-108.