From Reason to Revolution Books

William Hay had a varied and exciting military career during the later years of the Napoleonic Wars, which took him to the Peninsula, to Waterloo, and, after 1815, to Canada. Graduating from the Royal Military College at Marlow, of which he begins his memoirs with a rare account, he was first commissioned into the crack 52nd Light Infantry and served with that regiment in the campaigns of 1810 and 1811. Promotion then took him into the 12th Light Dragoons and, after a spell at home due to illness, he joined his new regiment in the field just as Wellington’s army began its retreat from Burgos. Thereafter, Hay served with the 12th for the remainder of the Peninsular War and again during the Waterloo campaign. A well-connected young man, he spent some of his time away from the regiment on staff duties, serving as an aide to Lord Dalhousie in the Peninsula and later to the same officer again during his tenure as Governor General of British North America. Hay’s recollections are very much those of a dashing young officer, and, if not quite rivalling Marbot for imagination, there is no denying that he is the hero of his own epic. But these are more than just tales of derring-do, for Hay’s stories of the lighter side of military life do much to illuminate the character and attitudes of Britain’s Napoleonic officer corps. There is also no question but that Hay was a competent and effective officer who did good service in a number of important campaigns, and an old soldier’s tendency to polish his recollections should take nothing from that. However, in order to help the reader better judge when Hay is remembering events with advantage, this edition of his memoirs is introduced and annotated by historian Andrew Bamford and includes additional information to identify places, people, and events and to otherwise add context to the original narrative.

‘These are the facts and notes taken by a soldier on campaign, written daily, sometimes in a tent, sometimes in a canoe, today in the presence of the enemy, tomorrow in conference with a tribe of savages.’ This succinct description is taken from the original French edition of the journal of Comte Maurès de Malartic. It offers a fascinating glimpse into the daily life of a French soldier. Malartic, major of the Régiment de Béarn, sailed to the North American colony of New France in 1755 as France responded to British forces sent out to Virginia in the same year. As war escalated, he remained in the colony for the next six years and was present at all the major engagements in what came to be known as the French and Indian War, or Seven Years War. For an account of the French in North America many historians have relied until now on the English translations of Bougainville, another French soldier who later found fame as an explorer of the Pacific Ocean. Although written in a much plainer style than Bougainville’s, Malartic’s writings provide clarity, balance and contrast to this tumultuous time. Unlike his contemporary, Malartic’s journals continue right through the war and conclude with his transportation back to France as a prisoner in a British vessel. Although serving as one of General Montcalm’s aides, Malartic was not part of his clique and presents us with a more independent minded view of events and the man, than the impressionable Bougainville. Available now for the first time in English, Malartic’s recollections illuminate the reader to the great pains and efforts undertaken by the French army in America to preserve New France under immense pressure. Energy-sapping journeys and logistical efforts are recorded as Malartic kept his journal almost every day during the campaign season. Not only does he describe his military duties but continues his observations into the cold winters spent in Montreal and Quebec, organising lodgings for his regiment and watching the helpless population become reduced to starvation while the elite gambled away huge fortunes. His recollections record many other aspects of daily life, of a more mundane nature and of the sort so often omitted by other memorialists, that will prove invaluable to the student of the 18th Century, New France and the Seven Years’ War.

William Brown’s autobiography is a unique historical document, since he is the only memoirist to have come to light from the ranks of the 45th (1st Nottinghamshire) Regiment of Foot for the period of the Peninsula War – a regiment that was one of Wellington’s longest-serving and most valiant in that turbulent era, a proud member of Sir Thomas Picton’s ‘Fighting’ Third Division. William was born in Kilmarnock in 1788, the son of a poor cobbler, but seems to have been given a good education since the narrative is clear and lively, with many learned literary references. Like many young men, William Brown originally volunteered into the militia, Britain’s second-line army intended for home defence only. And like a goodly percentage of these young men, he found that the life more-or-less agreed with him, and willingly took the bounty on offer to volunteer into the regular army a few weeks after Wellington’s victory at Talavera. In the next five years he served at Busaco, Ciudad Rodrigo, Badajoz, Salamanca, Madrid, Vittoria, Orthez, and Toulouse, and his descriptions of these actions provide worthy additions to our knowledge of these great battles. William seems to have been generally a reliable soldier, often ‘on command’ doing ancillary regimental service involving a degree of trust, including service as an officer’s batman. His outrage at the antics of his fellow-soldiers in the sack of Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajoz is palpable. Nonetheless, he occasionally seems to have slipped into questionable behaviour and comes across in the text as a bit of a ‘likeable rogue’. His romantic pursuits also get plenty of coverage in the text. William’s pen-portraits of commanders such as Picton, Kempt, Pakenham, and Brisbane are revealing, and he was not slow in criticizing his senior battalion officers or their actions; nor indeed is the Duke of Wellington above William’s barbed criticism. Maps are provided to allow the reader to understand the route traveled within Portugal and Spain by William and the 45th Regiment in those turbulent years, and the whole text is annotated by historian Steve Brown, an expert on the 45th and its deeds in the Napoleonic era.

Throughout the long drawn out war at sea during the French Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars, it was a cardinal principle of British naval strategy to blockade the port of Brest, the largest and most important of the French naval bases that threatened the security of the British Isles. It was a strategy that had been perfected by Sir Edward Hawke during the Seven Years War of 1756 – 1763, when it culminated in the stunning victory of Quiberon Bay. The American naval historian A.T. Mahan memorably summed up the contribution of the Royal Navy to the ultimate defeat of Napoleon when he wrote: ‘Those far distant, storm-beaten ships, upon which the Grand Army never looked, stood between it and the domination of the world.’ There were many aspects to the blockade of Brest, but always at its centre was the need to frustrate French attempts at the invasion of Britain or Ireland. Most famous of these, of course, was Napoleon’s intricate combination that led to the campaign of Trafalgar, in the course of which his invasion plans disintegrated. But there were many other offensive moves which it was the blockading fleet’s duty to prevent. Inevitably, there were great sea battles when the French ventured out, though fewer than might have been expected. For many months at a time the British fleet was at sea off Brest facing the considerable dangers of wind and weather without encountering its adversary. There were many remarkable leaders who came to the fore during the long years of war; Howe, Bridport, St Vincent, Cornwallis and Keith were among those who led the Channel Fleet. Nelson described his captains as a ‘band of brothers’, but this was by no means a description that could be applied to the quarrelsome, self willed and argumentative group of men who held the destiny of the Royal Navy in their hands, whether at sea or around the boardroom table at the Admiralty. Drawing on the official and personal correspondence of those involved, this book traces the development of British naval strategy, as well as describing the crucial encounters between the rival fleets and the single ship actions which provided the press with a constant flow of news stories for its readers

From Napoleon’s invasion of 1812 to the Wars of Liberation and beyond, seen from the common Russian soldier’s perspective. This volume is composed of three accounts previously unavailable in English. Detailed annotations illuminate a seldom understood army and nation during one of the pivotal episodes in European history. Pamfil Nazarov was a peasant from Tver who was conscripted in 1812 but rather than head east to join the army in its campaign against Napoleon, he traveled to St. Petersburg and was selected for the Russian Imperial Guard. As a Jäger of the Finland Regiment he went on to witness such events as the Battle of Leipzig and the fall of Paris. Nazarov’s memoirs also briefly describe the Russo-Turkish War of 1828, the Polish Uprising of 1830, and culminate in his voluntary induction into the monastic ranks of the Orthodox Church. Ivan “Menshoy” Ostroukhov similarly came from the peasantry of Tula and had prospects as a merchant before his household was chosen to produce a conscript. Also like Nazarov, he was inducted into the Guard, serving with the Uhlans as a choral singer in its reserve squadron. His autobiography ends prematurely, possibly due to the author’s death. Rafail Zotov, on the other hand, was a formally educated noble from St. Petersburg who could speak German and was familiar with astronomy and literature. He volunteered to serve as a junior officer in the militia when the French invaded. His preconceived notions of war and military service were challenged, and his abilities as a leader tested by his experiences on the hard marches through the north to the battles of Polotsk and Berezina and on to the siege of Danzig in 1813. Russia has a long and rich history and its self-identity is built on many episodes and myths, but none are so often dramatized, by Russians and Westerners alike, as Napoleon’s invasion in 1812. Now for the first time the voice of the common Russian caught up in those continental events is available in the English language. Contains an introduction by the translator, footnotes throughout with citations and bibliography, and multiple illustrations of relevant persons and events.

Pieces together the events of the Prestonpans campaign in unprecedented detail. In the summer of 1745, a charismatic (but inexperienced) young Prince sailed to Scotland - determined to wrest the crowns of Great Britain from the head of George II. In a few short weeks, he raised an army large enough to challenge the government’s forces in Scotland and, against the odds, stormed to a shocking victory over them at the Battle of Prestonpans. Celebrated ever since in song and art, Prestonpans nevertheless proved to be a false dawn on the road to defeat at the Battle of Culloden seven months later, but without his victory at Prestonpans and all the opportunities it provided, Charles Edward Stuart ('Bonnie Prince Charlie') could never have invaded England and his short uprising would then have been but a footnote in the history of Georgian Britain. This book - the climax of years of on-site investigation and source analysis - pieces together the events of the Prestonpans campaign in unprecedented detail. Focusing on the week of the battle, the author’s knowledge of the towns and villages through which the armies marched brings their motions vividly to life. Combined with eyewitness testimonies and close scrutiny of the evidence presented to the Board of Inquiry in 1746, this allows the reader to understand the buildup to the battle from an individual, as well as strategic, level. Such an understanding is revealed as critical, as the effects of morale, landscape and personality are shown to have determined the fate of the battle far more than the relative power of broadsword and bayonet. The book opens with an exploration of the battlefield area prior to the Rising, before analyzing the political and military strengths and weaknesses of the opposing causes; this includes rarely-provided information on the career of Sir John Cope. After following the opening campaign in the Highlands, the reader is then taken on a detailed day-by-day journey through the week leading to the battle. The account of the engagement itself - driven by eyewitness testimony and contemporary evidence - also incorporates the latest archaeological analysis of the site to create the most detailed and engaging presentation yet of this famous and dramatic event. Its aftermath and legacy, both on a local and national level, is then considered before the book concludes with a look at the changes which have occurred across the battlefield landscape up to the present day. This is a study of one of Britain’s best-documented, but least analyzed, battles - seen from within the landscape and communities around which it was fought. No longer should the two days of events which make up the Battle of Prestonpans be viewed simply as the prologue to a future defeat; instead, they are presented as they were understood at the time: as the climax of a month-long campaign which, it seemed, would determine the fate of Scotland.

More than 200 years ago - under the inspiration and leadership of Bonaparte - a revolutionary French Army invaded Egypt, then part of the Ottoman Empire; this presence lasted beyond Bonaparte’s own departure and subsequent rise to power as First Consul. It ended with another invasion - this time by the British - and the repatriation in France of what was left of the 'Army of the Orient'. The birth of Egyptology; the rise of modern Egypt; the demise of the Ottoman Empire; and start of 'the great game' have all been often told and studied, but what is less well known is that as the French found themselves stranded in a foreign land - profoundly alien to them in culture and climate - they had to adapt to survive. Egypt was a proving ground for many officers and ordinary soldiers who were to rise to prominence during the Napoleonic period. Some of Napoleon’s future inner circle - like Davout, Savary and Lasalle - were first spotted by the young Bonaparte in Egypt, and although initially unplanned as such, it turned out to be the first attempt by the French to build a colony on the African continent. It especially led the French Army to adopt totally new clothing and equipment; to organise native units; and even to draft men from faraway Darfur into its own ranks. Drawing from a wealth of original primary material - much of it never published or even seen before - this study focuses on the French Army of the Orient and its organization, uniforms, equipment and daily life. It aims at providing a renewed and updated image of the French soldier, as told by the surviving archives, memoirs and rare contemporary iconography.

Following the disastrous conclusion to the campaign of 1757, the Austrian Army regrouped in Bohemia. Meanwhile, the King of Prussia sought to complete his reconquest of Silesia before seizing the initiative and thrusting directly towards Vienna. In his path stood the town of Olmütz, which would prove to be a high-tide mark of the war. Over the next three years, Austria and her allies inflicted a series of heavy defeats on the Prussians at Hochkirch, Kunersdorf, Dresden, Maxen, Landeshut and Glatz. By the end of 1760 - with Berlin open to insult by Swedish, Austrian and especially Russian raiders - the King of Prussia was left with no other option than the desperate measure of attacking the Austrian Army in a renowned, strong defensive position on the heights of Süptitz (outside Torgau). From the near-balletic formality of the battles and sieges of a prior age, the business of war changed during these campaigns. Many of the actions were designed with the objective of annihilation, and the critical moment of several battles came at night; the geometric precision of siege warfare gave way to the indiscriminate horrors of bombardment. Throughout these campaigns, Horace St Paul - an English gentleman volunteer - continued to accompany Marshal Daun. He noted the day-to-day progress of the army and recorded the essential connective tissue which links the great events of these campaigns - often highlighting occasions where a general action was expected, but does not occur. In parallel, this volume includes accounts from the Prussian perspective - including that of Henri de Catt, to whom the King of Prussia confided his thoughts. The text is accompanied by 242 plates of maps and statistical information, as well as a detailed gazetteer and lists of persons and regiments named.

Paymaster John Harley wrote his memoirs in the mid to late 1830’s, some fifteen years after he had left the army under questionable circumstances. He apparently published this memoir privately in two volumes in 1838 a few years before his death - quite possibly as he had not found a mainstream publisher because of its potentially libellous content – and only four hundred copies were apparently printed. John Harley had a varied and interesting military career, serving in the Tarbert Fencibles, the 54th Foot in Egypt, and then the 47th Foot with Wellington in Spain and Southern France. John Harley was born in Cork, Ireland on 18 November 1769 but his father died within a few weeks, he therefore lived with his mother for most of his youth in the area of Kilkenny. At the age of fourteen he was put to work at a merchant house in the city but never really settled in this role and secured a lieutenancy in the Tarbert Fencibles on their formation in 1798. Harley gained a commission as Quartermaster of the 54th Foot on 12 June 1800 and joined his new regiment at Winchester. Soon after they were ordered to proceed abroad and within a year Harley found himself trudging through the hot sands of Egypt in the campaign of Sir Ralph Abercromby to oust the French from Africa. Thereafter, they formed part of the garrison of Gibraltar and were there during the infamous mutiny against the governor the Duke of Kent. After being placed on half-pay during the Peace of Amiens, Harley soon found a new position, as Quartermaster in the 1st Battalion 47th Foot. On 11 July 1805 John Harley gained the position of Paymaster to the regiment’s 2nd Battalion and moved with it around Ireland for the next three years, thence to England in 1807 where they remained until 1809 when they were finally ordered for foreign service. They sailed for Gibraltar in October 1809 and were then transferred to Cadiz, taking part in the defense of that place and of Tarifa in 1811. The following year the siege of Cadiz ended, the battalion marched to Seville and then joined in Wellington’s difficult retreat to Portugal. In 1813 the battalion was at the Battle of Vitoria, where John had the awful news of the death of his son; he then took part in the siege of San Sebastian. They were then involved in the crossing of the Bidassoa, the Battles of Nivelle and the Nive and finally involved in the sortie from Bayonne, when the war ended. As a Paymaster, Harley was rarely in the fighting, but he was certainly close to the action at times and also saw much of the terrible aftermath. However, some of the greatest and most entertaining memoirs have already come from noncombatants. It is a simple truth that if you want to know what it was really like in the British army for the ninety-nine percent of the time when there was no fighting, read the memoirs of such men, who had opportunity to enjoy the best of times, partook in many of the greatest adventures, and thankfully had the spare time to record them for posterity. Although he did not write his memoirs until 1830, Harley remembers a great deal; names, personalities, incidents, and tragedies and although his memory might occasionally confuse the correct ranks or some of the fine details; every one of the major incidents he recounts is to be found in the records. But the greatest joy of these pages are the various scurrilous incidents mentioned in these memoirs, which have all been found to be fully established in fact. Duels, bigamy, abductions, women tricked into marriage, sinking boats, cowardice, larceny, murder, corruption, human tragedy, bankruptcy, forgery, suicides, privateers, debtors prison, card sharks, highwaymen, prisoners of war, and Garryowen Boys, indeed the whole gambit. It truly exposes the seedy underside of Georgian life both within the army and in civilian life too. John Harley’s memoirs are a real joy and a real eye-opener on many levels – once you have read them, you will never look at Wellington’s army in the same light ever again.

Thomas Jackson’s autobiography provides a colorful account of his experiences as a militiaman, Coldstreamer, and Chelsea pensioner. Son of a Walsall bucklemaker, Jackson joined the Staffordshire Militia aged 17 and spent a decade on home service, much of it passed at Windsor Castle and Weymouth guarding King George III. As a sergeant in the Coldstream Guards, he served in Sir Thomas Graham’s 1813-14 campaign in the Netherlands and was wounded and captured during the storming of Bergen-op-Zoom. Jackson provides a harrowing account of this failed assault, the ensuing amputation of his right leg, and his subsequent yearlong convalescence. While many military memoirs end with news of peace or discharge, Jackson also chronicles his postwar life as a Chelsea pensioner and war amputee, describing his struggles raising a family amidst economic turmoil and cholera outbreaks. Jackson provides a fresh and often critical perspective on service in the ranks. Embittered by the loss of his leg, he laments the plight of army veterans, doomed by an ungrateful nation to lives of ‘pinching poverty’. His memoir also does not shrink from graphically describing the horrors of combat. Indeed, Neil Ramsey, author of a recent comprehensive study of military memoirs, wrote that Jackson’s story deserved ‘far wider attention as one of the most harrowing accounts of war’s miseries to be written in the nineteenth century’. Yet despite the clear merits of his testimony, Jackson’s Narrative has never been reissued since its initial publication. Enhanced with additional research and commentary by historian Eamonn O’Keeffe, this new edition makes Jackson’s lively and invaluable autobiography publicly available for the first time in 170 years.

There have been few books about Grey's glorious (but ultimately ill-fated) West Indies campaign in the early years of the long and terrible wars of 1793-1815, yet five of the subalterns in Grey's expeditionary force went on to command divisions in Wellington's Peninsula army; another two commanded the Iron Duke's Royal Artillery; and one (Richard Fletcher) - famously - the Royal Engineers. The tactics used by Sir Charles Grey were as far removed as can be imagined from the traditional image of the two-deep British line delivering massed volleys at pointblank range. The invasions of Martinique, St Lucia and Guadeloupe were raids undertaken by Special Forces, who were instructed to operate in open order, in silence and at bayonet-point; all attacks went in with unloaded muskets. Most of the heavy-duty fighting was undertaken by converged flank battalions, grenadiers and light infantrymen - assembled under hand-picked field officers and used as stormtroopers in every major assault; here were French revolutionary war tactics that are largely unexplored and largely undocumented (at least in modern times). Sir Charles Grey was one of the most aggressive British generals of the era - something his gentlemanly appearance and demeanor did not immediately indicate. Ever cheerful and optimistic - and humane and loyal to his friends - his ability to deliver needle-sharp assaults and then harry a defeated enemy (the latter being something at which British generals of the Napoleonic era were distinctly mediocre) makes him one of the more interesting personalities of the early portion of the 'Great War with France'. If he was not ultimately unsuccessful, it was not his fault: he was robbed of the resources he needed at the outset; then given virtually no reinforcements by Horse Guards. The great killer on this campaign was not the French... it was disease: principally, Yellow Fever. Of the 6,200 men who landed with Grey on Martinique in February 1794, some 4,100 were dead by Christmas - such then is By Fire and Bayonet an account of a very dramatic period for the British Army in the West Indies. It took many years to learn the lessons presented by the campaign, but for the young officers who survived, it provided some invaluable lessons that were put to good use 15 or 20 years later in the British Army of a later era.

Although its crown was initially given to Joseph Bonaparte, the brief history of the Napoleonic Kingdom of Naples will be forever best associated with the reign of King Joachim Murat, Napoleon`s famous and flamboyant cavalry commander, from 1808 to 1815. Known more for the splendor of its uniforms than the achievements of its troops, Naples under Murat nevertheless became a major, if short-lived, player on the Italian Peninsula. This book is based around a series of 99 plates from the work of the military illustrator Henri Boisselier covering the army and navy of the Kingdom of Naples, reproduced with the kind permission of the Anne S.K. Brown Collection. Each plate is accompanied by a commentary on the figure, comparing Boisselier’s depiction with the actual state of the army at the date of their portrayal. The accompanying text details the strength of each corps of the army (royal guard, infantry, cavalry, artillery, engineers, command and staff officers, and civilian para-military organizations) including uniform details, badges of rank, inter-company distinctions, flags and standards. The battle history of the units is also recounted, along with a brief history of the kingdom.

It was inevitable that a young George Murray, born into a long established Perthshire family with both Jacobite and Hanoverian loyalties, would soon see action in the campaigns against Revolutionary France and Napoleon Bonaparte after obtaining his commission into 3rd Regiment of Foot Guards (the Scots Guards) in 1790. Murray served with distinction in the Low Countries, which were seen as essential to safeguarding Britain’s trade links and in Ireland, where the constant threat of insurrection and invasion required a huge garrison. He accompanied General Abercromby to remove the French from Egypt, where Murray was in the first wave of the landing force at Aboukir, one of the great British military successes. Becoming one of the new ‘Scientific’ officers, Murray was the brains behind the plans to take a number of West Indian islands from the French, before settling into his career in the Quartermaster General’s department. He made a name for himself in the controversial bombardment of Copenhagen in 1807, which resulted in the capture of the entire Danish fleet, the first operation in which Murray and Arthur Wellesley (later the Duke of Wellington) fought together. Sent to Sweden on a delicate diplomatic mission to negotiate with the unstable Swedish King, in support of General Sir John Moore, by now he had earned the confidence of the British Government, as well as his military superiors. On return from Sweden, Murray found himself sailing to Portugal and into the midst of a debacle, culminating in his drafting the highly contentious Convention of Cintra. He was becoming acutely aware of the personal weaknesses of the men who carried Britain’s expectations on their shoulders, including Wellington, and recognised his potential role alongside them. Remaining in Portugal, and now serving again with Moore, he planned the advance into Spain, and the dispiriting, and brutal, retreat to Corunna, losing his good friends Moore and Anstruther in the last days of the campaign. A few weeks after his return to England in 1809 he was appointed Wellesley’s QMG, again in the Peninsula, and would, from that moment, work closely (if not always in agreement) with Wellesley in the successful actions that followed, including Oporto, Talavera and Busaco. He was one of only an handful who knew of the building of the massive Lines of Torres Vedras. Frustrated by the attitude of Spanish and Portuguese allies, and the slowness of his promotion prospects, he returned home on leave in early 1812, perhaps with marriage in mind, and shortly thereafter resigned his position with Wellington’s army, moving again to Ireland. Begged by Wellington to return, he played a major role in moving the army across Spain in 1813 and orchestrating the major battles that saw the French driven back over the Pyrenees. Under his leadership, the role of the QMG department expanded enormously, and Murray became Wellington’s most trusted staff officer. Sent to Canada to take command there in the dying days of the War of 1812, and becoming, temporarily, Governor General, he again answered the Government’s and Wellington’s calls to return to face Napoleon after his escape from Elba, but arrived too late for Waterloo. For three years he was Chief of Staff to the multinational force occupying France. There he had an affair with Lady Louisa Erskine (sister of Henry Paget, Wellington’s cavalry commander who lost a leg at Waterloo), which was to lead to her divorce, an illegitimate daughter, marriage, and long lasting social difficulties for them both. Murray served as Governor of RMC Sandhurst and Commander in Chief in Ireland. Following his election as MP for Perthshire, Wellington appointed him Secretary of State for War and the Colonies in his Government, resulting in the Murray River and Perth, Western Australia being named in his honour. An unhappy period in his life, Murray persevered with his political career until appointed Master General of the Ordnance in Peel’s administration, a post he held until his death in 1846. Based on primary sources, in particular Murray’s own papers and letters, the book delves beneath the surface of many of the major military and political events of the time, and examines the very close military, political, and personal relationship that bound Murray and Wellington together, as, with demonstrable mutual loyalty and respect, they confronted enemies and opponents over a period of 40 years during an extraordinary period of British history.

During 1779, armies under the command of American General George Washington and British General Sir William Clinton were locked in a strategic stalemate. The entry of the French into the war as American allies had shifted the strategic initiative and caused the British government to order Clinton to dispatch significant forces to the West Indies and southern colonies. The reduction in his available forces hampered Clinton’s efforts to bring Washington to a decisive engagement. Clinton decided to launch an attack north from New York to establish a base of operations that would allow an attack on the American fortress at West Point. In late June 1779 Clinton moved men and materiel into position for his thrust up the Hudson while Washington cautiously responded by moving his army north. Clinton struck on 3 July 1779, capturing the strategic Kings Ferry crossing of the Hudson River along with American forts at Stony Point and Verplank’s Point. Soon after Washington began to develop an audacious plan to recapture the strongpoint and restore American fortunes. After organizing an elite force of light infantry, Washington spent several days observing the British position at Stony Point and collecting intelligence on British defenses. He proposed a nighttime assault. At midnight on 15 July, 1779 Washington directed Brigadier General Anthony Wayne to lead 1,300 men against the British defenders of Stony Point. In little over one hour the American light infantry captured Stony Point With news of the American victory Washington quickly rode to the fort to congratulate Wayne and his men. Recognizing that he had neither the troops nor the resources needed to defend Stony Point against an expected British counterattack Washington ordered all supplies and arms to be removed, prisoners marched into captivity and the fortifications destroyed. Although the British did successfully reoccupy Stony Point several days later, the Americans trumpeted their unexpected victory and a chagrined General Clinton concluded a further offensive up the Hudson River towards West Point would be pointless.

The Dutch Republic was one of the great European powers during the 17th and 18th Centuries. Generally, the Dutch Republic was considered to have lost that status after the 1713 Peace of Utrecht; however, when the Republic entered the War of Austrian Succession in 1740, it was able to field an army of over 80,000 men. This expanded to over 110,000 men during the war, demonstrating that the Republic was still a European power to be reckoned with. The losses suffered in that conflict led to a period of decline, which in the end would result in the end of the Republic in 1795. But despite the years of neutrality, shortages, budget cuts and reorganizations, the army was still quite a formidable force. The purpose of this book is to focus on the uniforms and organization of that army, from the Peace of Utrecht until the reforms of 1772. The army of the Dutch Republic is a subject that sounds familiar, but is yet greatly undiscovered; little of it is known, unlike the armies of Britain, France, Prussia, and even the lesser powers like Sweden and Denmark. Historical sources of it, be it surviving items of uniform and equipment or paintings and prints, are unfortunately scarce. This study brings to light much material previously unseen.

Captain Roger Morris, a young British officer in the Coldstream Guards, served in France, Belgium and Holland during the Duke of York’s campaign against the armies of Revolutionary France. During the period from May 1793 until March 1795, he kept a diary in which he described the various actions, commanders and incidents, noting failures and poor leadership, and commenting on some of the wider events. Morris also traveled extensively on horseback throughout the region when he was not campaigning, often visiting local churches to view or play the organs!

Britain was totally unprepared for war with France in 1793 and relied on German auxiliaries to supplement her own meager resources to pursue her strategy in the Low Countries and beyond. The contingents were drawn from the smaller German states, whose armies still followed the rigid linear tactics of Frederick the Great. They therefore had to adapt to deal with the new threat posed by the mass French armies, with a greater emphasis on light troops and more flexible tactics. Although the German troops formed a major part of the Allied army in the Low Countries, there has been no detailed English-language account of their role. Their story is told here for the first time, based on extensive research in British and German archives, together with contemporary accounts and 19th Century German sources. Previously unpublished information is given on the process of negotiating the treaties with the German princes, the organization of the troops taken into British pay, and their experience on campaign, focussing on the key events for the various contingents. Their varied and colorful uniforms are also described and illustrated from contemporary sources. The German auxiliaries fought bravely, often against overwhelming odds, and the failure of the campaigns owes more to disunity among the allies and the muddled and unrealistic policies of the British government than any shortcomings of the troops on the ground.

In 1799, as part of the Second Coalition against France, an Anglo-Russian army landed in Holland to overthrow the Batavian Republic and to reinstate the Stadtholder William V of Orange. Initially called ‘The Secret Expedition’, although not really a secret for both sides, the description of the invasion reads like a novel. Five major battles were fought between armies of four different nations, with unexpected deeds of heroism and unexpected defeats. There were secret negotiations and rumors of bribery. More than enough ingredients for biased opinions, historical errors, and incorrect information copied from historians up to this day. The aim of this book is to give a balanced, detailed, and complete account of the events taking place during the invasion: the preparations on both sides, detailed descriptions of the battles as well as the events taking place at sea and in the eastern provinces of the Batavian Republic. Also giving new opinions on questions like: What were the causes of ‘The Secret Expedition’? Did Brune indeed delay reinforcing the Batavians? What caused the frequent panics in the participating armies? Were the French veteran troops and the Batavians soldiers unreliable? How was the treaty closed? The book is based on source material from all participating countries, including numerous firsthand accounts of eyewitnesses and contemporaries, providing the reader with a mirror to the past.

This series of letters was written by a light infantry officer on campaign, as a lieutenant with the 52nd Foot in Spain and a captain with the 69th Foot in Belgium and France. George Ulrich Barlow saw action at Ciudad Rodrigo, Badajoz, Vitoria, San Sebastian, Nivelle, Nive and Orthez. He transferred to the 69th Foot as a captain and served with them in Belgium at the battles of Quatre Bras and Waterloo and then remained with the Army of Occupation in France until 1818. His involvement in the fighting and his honest views of some of the famous characters he met during his service are enlightening, including his first audience with Wellington at Freineda in Portugal. There are also interesting asides in his correspondence including his father’s difficulties over his governorship of Madras and his brother’s involvement in a major mutiny at the Royal Military College.

The Dutch Republic was one of the great European powers during the 17th and 18th centuries. Generally, the Dutch Republic was considered to have lost that status after the Peace of Utrecht (1713); however, when the Republic entered the War of Austrian Succession in 1740, it was able to field an army for over 80,000 men, which expanded to over 110,000 men during the war, and was still a European power to be reckoned with. The losses it suffered in that conflict led to a period of decline, which in the end would result in the end of the Republic in 1795. But despite the years of neutrality, shortages, budget cuts and reorganizations, the army was still quite a formidable force. The purpose of this book is to focus on the uniforms and organisation of that army, from the Peace of Utrecht until the reforms of 1772. Volume I dealt with the history of the Dutch Republic after the War of the Spanish Succession, up to the first campaigns of the War of the Austrian Succession, with information on the uniforms, organisation and tactics of the infantry. Volume II describes steady decline of the Dutch Republic; political turmoil and corruption form the background for the information on the uniforms and tactics of the cavalry, dragoons, artillery, and specialist troops.

This study details the preparation, planning and execution of the invasion of Portugal in 1810 by the French Armée de Portugal under Marshal Massena, and the defensive measures taken by the British and their Portuguese and Spanish allies. It also covers the practice of all armies involved during this campaign, working from original sources. These sources provide a different interpretation of some key aspects of the campaign to those which are generally accepted. The work focusses on the strategic, operational, and tactical planning undertaken by both sides in preparation for the invasion, and the actual progress of the campaign. A narrative of the battles and sieges, with analysis at the tactical-level, also brings out the differences in planning and intelligence gathering. This particular campaign is important as it has attracted little attention from historians, and was crucial as a turning point in the Peninsular War. This was the last time that Portugal was invaded by the French during the Peninsular War, and the allies’ handling of the campaign contrasted sharply with that of the French. Its success also gave Wellington political security against the ‘croakers’ back in England. The research demonstrates the difficulties both armies had in prosecuting their plans during the campaign, and highlights the stark differences in the approach taken by each commander.

This is the first full-length detailed study of the uniforms, organization, personnel and campaigns of the numerous Swiss units that served in the armies of Revolutionary, Directorate, and Imperial France from the campaigns of 1798 in Switzerland until the Hundred Days of 1815. The author covers not just the regulation uniforms but also the numerous variations recorded in contemporary documents and plates. The uniforms of the Tete de Colonne could change from issue to issue and year to year and the author has tried to cover all of these known changes. Estimates of the number of Swiss who served in the French Army from 1798-1815 vary from fifty to ninety thousand – numbers that makes the Swiss the largest non-French nationality in the Imperial Armies. There have been many studies of these units published in France and Switzerland but this is the first full-length study to be published in England.

The inaugural ‘From Reason to Revolution Conference’ took as its theme ‘Command and Leadership’, which was explored in a variety of different ways by eight speakers whose papers took in the armies of France, Austria, Portugal, and Britain (and touched in passing on those of Prussia and the Netherlands too), and whose geographical remit encompassed North America, Europe, and Africa. This volume presents the proceedings of that conference. The first three chapters consider lower-level leadership, with a focus on ideas of expertise and professionalism. Will Raffle explores the tensions between local experts in New France and professional officers from the mother country, taking as its case study the campaign for Oswego in 1756. Tobias Roeder looks at the Habsburg officer corps during the eighteenth century and the tensions between the dictates imposed by the profession of arms on the one hand and the social expectations of a gentleman on the other. Lastly, Mark Thompson reviews a little-known body of men from the Peninsular War in the shape of the Portuguese Army’s corps of engineers. The next pair of chapters address the opposing commanders in the Jacobite Rising of 1745, drawing some interesting parallels between two young royals who were both obliged to rely on their own charisma and force of character to address difficult and complex military situations. For Charles Edward Stuart, Jacobite Prince of Wales, the challenge was to create an army from scratch out of a collection of self-willed and self-opinionated individuals. Arran Johnston looks at how he did this, but also at the tensions that were inherent in the Jacobite command structure. Conversely, Prince William, Duke of Cumberland, inherited command of an army of regular troops but one which had its morale at rock bottom after defeat at Falkirk, and Jonathan Oates addresses how Cumberland was able to restore order and self-respect to his command, and take it on to victory at Culloden. The final three chapters jump forwards by a half-century, to look at the events of the French Revolutionary Wars. Carole Divall looks at the Flanders campaigns of 1793-1795, considering the problems faced by generals on both sides and concluding that all would have been far better off without the interference of their respective political masters. Jacqueline Reiter, by contrast, considers someone who was both general and politician in the shape of John Pitt, 2nd Earl of Chatham, and her study of his role in the 1799 Helder Campaign both restores a reputation as a brigadier unfairly sullied by Sir John Fortescue but also considers the tensions caused by his dual role as subordinate general on the one hand and senior cabinet minister on the other. Finally, Yves Martin looks at the three very different personalities who successively commanded the French Army of the Orient in Egypt, providing very illuminating pen-portraits of three larger-than-life characters each with pronounced strengths and weaknesses.

The Battle of Waterloo was one of the most horrific actions fought during the Napoleonic Wars. There have been several studies of battlefield injuries and the field care that casualties received during the campaign of June 1815. However, what happened to the many thousands of injured men left behind as the armies marched away is rarely discussed. In June 1815, around 62,000 Allied and French wounded flooded into Brussels, Antwerp, and other towns and cities of the Kingdom of the Netherlands and swamped the medical services. These casualties were eventually cared for by a wide mix of medical personnel including hundreds of ‘Belgian’ surgeons, most of whom had trained in the French Service de Santé and who assisted in the dispersal, treatment, and rehabilitation of thousands of casualties after the battle. New data concerning the fate of the thousands of Allied and some French casualties has emerged from the library of the University of Edinburgh. This has revealed a collection of over 170 wound sketches, detailed case reports, and the surgical results from five Brussels Hospitals. The sketches were carried out by Professor John Thomson, who held the first Regius Chair in Military Surgery appointed by the University of Edinburgh. Most accounts are of Allied wounded, but certainly not all. The accounts, drawings and surgical results dramatically alter our understanding of the management of military wounded in the Georgian army.

This volume consists of two diaries by William Bamford, an Irish officer in the British Army in the mid-18th century: The first is ‘A narrative of the campaigns and feats of arms of the 35th Regiment (Royal Sussex)’. It covers the regiment’s activities during the French and Indian War and includes an account of the siege and capture of Louisbourg in 1758, British capture of Québec in 1759, the French siege of Québec in 1760 and the capture of Montreal, a march to Fort Ticonderoga, Saratoga, and Albany in 1761, a voyage to Barbados in 1761, the siege and capture of Martinique and Havana in 1762, a voyage to Saint Augustine Florida, Charleston, South Carolina, and Port Royal, Jamaica in 1763, and a voyage to Pensacola, Florida and a description of Mobile, Alabama (then part of West Florida), and other parts of West Florida, in 1765, and finally back again to England by way of Havana in 1765. Also included in this section are a copy of a letter from Major General Webb to Colonel Munro dated 4 August, 1757 documenting Webb’s refusal to reinforce Bamford’s regiment at Fort William Henry, and two anecdotes from 1759 and 1760 regarding Anglo-French battles fought outside Québec. The second dairy, running from January through December 1776, documents William Bamford’s service in the 40th Regiment at Boston after the battle of Bunker Hill, during the winter and early spring of 1776, the British evacuation to Halifax, return to Staten Island, New York, the campaign on Long Island, and the occupation of New York City. In Part II, between the two diaries, a transcribed letter from Bamford relates part of his career, along with his commission as a captain in the 40th Foot.

The role of African-Americans, most free but some enslaved, in the regiments of the Continental Army is not well-known; neither is the fact that relatively large numbers served in southern regiments and that the greatest number served alongside their white comrades in integrated units. 'They Were Good Soldiers' begins by discussing, for comparison, the inclusion and treatment of black Americans by the various Crown forces (particularly British and Loyalist commanders, and military units). The narrative then moves into an overview of black soldiers in the Continental Army, before examining their service state by state. Each state chapter looks first at the Continental regiments in that state’s contingent throughout the war, and then adds interesting black soldiers’ pension narratives or portions thereof. The premise is to introduce the reader to the men’s wartime duties and experiences. The book’s concluding chapters examine veterans’ postwar fortunes in a changing society and the effect of increasing racial bias in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. 'They Were Good Soldiers' makes extensive use of black veterans’ pension narratives to ‘hear’ them and others tell their stories, and provides insights into their lives, before, during, and after the war.

Late in the summer 1759, Québec, the capital of New France, was under siege. British Major General James Wolfe had the city surrounded and cut off from reinforcements in Montréal, Vice Admiral Charles Saunders was in firm control of the rivers surrounding the city as well as the supply routes into the region. The French population found itself low on food and ammunition to defend themselves, and suffering daily bombardment by the English. The walls of Québec were manned by militiamen and sailors taken from French ships lost or anchored above the city for their protection. Lieutenant Général Louis-Joseph de Montcalm-Grozon and his aide-de-camp Louis-Antoine de Bougainville commanded the French regulars outside the city, moving them in rapid deployments to counter the British advances. Here the story is told by the citizens within the walls: an artillery captain, a prominent citizen, the emissary traveling between the British and the French commanders, and a Catholic nun working in the main hospital, treating the sick and wounded of both armies. Three of these works are offered in English for the first time, and all four are fully annotated. These journals and memoirs bring us inside the siege, allowing us to watch through their eyes as the fate of New France was determined.

The proportion of wartime soldiers dying of disease as against combat injury, ran at about 70-75 percent in armies campaigning in Europe in the century and a half (1648-1789) between the end of the Thirty Years War and the French Revolution. During this time, field armies doubled in size and regimes usually fought for limited territorial gains, so it was safest to ‘occupy, entrench, and wait’. Consequently, this was an era of massive and protracted encampments: the Christian army that sat down before Belgrade in 1717 had more mouths than any city within 500 miles, but lacked basic urban amenities like regular markets, wells, privy pits, and night soil collectors. Yet the impact of sickness on military operations has been neglected. This study uncovers how many soldiers sickened and died by consulting quantitative data, such as casualty returns and hospital registers, generated by the new state-contract armies which displaced the mercenary hordes of the Thirty Years’ War. As plague began to recede from Europe, this study explains what exactly were these ‘fluxes and fevers’ that remained to afflict European armies in wartime and argues that they formed a single seasonal continuum that peaked in late summer. The isolation and incarceration of the military hospital characterized the response of the new armies to ‘disorder’ and to revivified notions of contagion. However, the hospital often prolonged the late summer morbidity/mortality spike into mid-winter by generating ‘hospital fever’ or typhus, the lice-borne disease that erupted whenever the cold, wet, hungry, transient, and unwashed huddled together. The cure was the disease. This scope of the study includes French army operations in some of its contiguous campaigning theaters, north Italy (1702 and 1734), the Rhineland (1734), Roussillon (1674), possibly Catalonia (1693), and, further afield, Bohemia (1742). The study also includes three case-studies involving the British army that include Ireland (1689), Portugal (1762), Dutch Brabant (1748), and the Rhineland (1743). The outliers are studies of Habsburg operations in and around Belgrade (1717 and 1737), and Russian operations in Crimea (1736).

‘Hangman Hawley’ is one of the villains of the ‘45 and holds a prominent place in Jacobite demonology but was also held in contempt by those who hated the Jacobite cause. He is reputed to have been a man who enjoyed hanging his own soldiers, looting from his enemies, and harrying defeated foes, yet he was defeated in the only battle that he ever held command. No one has come forward to defend his reputation. However, the Duke of Cumberland, commander in chief of the British army in the 1740s and 1750s declared him to be a highly capable cavalry officer. He certainly had the experience; being given his first command when less than ten years old and who fought in Spain, Flanders, Scotland and Germany, rising from ensign to lieutenant general, being wounded in the process. This book covers both Hawley’s professional and personal life. In both he was a figure of controversy. Many hated him – especially Jacobites and civilians – but among soldiers his reputation was more mixed. Drawing on numerous sources this is the first attempt to provide a full length study on an important and controversial figure in eighteenth century British history.

Making extensive use of previously unpublished material this book gives an unprecedented view of the Waterloo Campaign from the viewpoint of a single regiment. It reveals the preparations that preceded the battle, the role of the regiment in the battle, and the long months spent in France after Paris fell, until the regiment finally returned home in December 1815. An Order Book for the year, and letters and diaries of several officers, shed light on the internal life of the regiment and their – occasionally humorous – social life.

Royal Navy Officers of the Seven Years War provides detailed reference information on over 2,000 commissioned officers of the Royal Navy: all of those whose career as a commissioned officer included the Seven Years War (1756-1763). In addition, those officers commissioned during and after 1748 and who died before 1756 are included. Sourced primarily from some 15,000 original source documents held in the National Archives, the individual entries include the officers pre-commission postings and commissions to ships as well as other naval and civil appointments. Genealogical information such as dates of birth, death, and marriage, and the names and dates of the officer’s immediate family are also included for most of the entries. As the first published reference work since 1849 to include this level of detail for all the Royal Navy officers of the period Royal Navy Officers of the Seven Years War provides unparalleled access to information previously unpublished.

The Reichsarmee – the ‘Army of the Empire’ made up of contingents from the minor German states – reached the nadir of its fortunes in 1757 with defeat at Rossbach. For the following year’s campaigning, which included the defense of Bamburg, the action at Basberg, the siege of Sonnenstein, and the combat at Eilenburg, it came under the command of Friedrich-Michael, Prince von Pfalz-Zweybrücken, whose initial task was to protect the western borders of the Empire from invasion from Saxony where Prince Henry of Prussia commanded a sizeable army. Later, as Prussian fortunes began to wane, the liberation of Saxony became a prime objective. The core of this volume is the ‘Journal of the Army’, translated from the original French and annotated by historian Neil Cogswell. Although the identity of the author of the original journal is unknown, he appears, from his knowledge of events, to have been attached to headquarters, but his writing suggests that he was of junior or even civilian status. As occasion presents itself, the author speaks of the contingents from the Lower Rhine Circle, which included a major part of the Palatinate form which the army’s commander drew his princely title; it is reasonable to suppose that the author came from this circle. The Journal has the flavor of an official record of the campaign. It contains no personal details and makes no comments on the political and supply problems that disrupted the operations. To complement it are therefore appended the letters of the Comte de Boisgelin, a French officer serving with the Reichsarmee, to his good friend Horace St Paul. Boisgelin’s letters, by contrast, are sparse in terms of military detail but illuminating in terms of gossip, speculation, and personal experience. To place the combined account in context, over 50 tables and plates are also included, including maps, order of battle, and color depictions of the army’s uniforms and flags.

Napoleon is supposed to have said, "glory is fleeting, but obscurity is forever," but this collection of essays both revisits some of the most glorious episodes of the Napoleonic Wars and rescues from obscurity some fascinating but overlooked episodes. For over 20 years the Napoleon Series website and forum have functioned as a major hub for the international community of Napoleonic scholars. This book was commissioned with the support of Napoleon Series editor, and distinguished Napoleonic scholar, Robert Burnham and the writing team are all contributors to the website. The chapters cover topics ranging across the European conflict from 1805 to 1814. There is material here on the armies of France, Russia, Prussia, and Austria as well as some of the smaller German states and the single British unit to play a part in the Battle of Leipzig. It is anticipated that this will be the first of several collaborative volumes, with potential future titles highlighting new scholarship on the Peninsular War, the Hundred Days, and the French Revolutionary War.

The American Revolutionary War was a conflict that Britain did not want, and for which it was not prepared. The British Army in America at the end of 1774 was only 3,000 strong, with a further 6,000 to arrive by the time that the conflict started in the spring of 1775. The Royal Navy, on which the British depended for the defence of its shores, trade and far-flung colonies, had been much reduced as a result of the economies that followed the Seven Years War. In 1775 the problem facing government ministers, the War Office, and the Admiralty was how to reinforce, maintain and supply an army (that grew to over 90,000 men) while blockading the American coast and defending Britain’s many interests around the world; a problem that got bigger when France entered the war in 1778. With a 3,000 mile supply line, taking six to eight weeks for a passage, the scale of the undertaking was enormous. Too often in military histories the focus is on the clash of arms, with little acknowledgement of the vital role of that neglected stepchild - logistics. In All At Sea, John Dillon concentrates on the role of the Navy in supporting, supplying and transporting the British Army during the war in America. Because of individual egos, other strategic priorities, and the number of ships available, that support was not always at the level the British public expected. However, without the navy the war could not have been fought at all.

On 19 August 1812, lookouts of the British frigate HMS Guerriere spotted the American frigate, USS Constitution. Captain James Dacres, Guerriere’s commander, was eager for a fight and confident of victory. He had the weight of Britain’s naval reputation and confidence behind him. Yet when the guns fell silent Guerriere was a shattered hulk and Dacres had struck to Constitution. By the year’s end, three British frigates and two sloops had been defeated in single ship actions against American opponents, throwing the British naval sphere into a crisis. These losses could not have been more shocking to the Royal Navy and the British world. In a strange reversal, the outnumbered British Army along the Canadian border had triumphed but the tiny United States Navy had humiliated the world’s largest and most prestigious navy. Further dramatic sea battles between the two powers followed into early 1815, and the British tried to reconcile the perceived stain to the Royal Navy’s honour. Many within and outside of the Royal Navy called for vindication. The single ship actions of the War of 1812 have frequently been dismissed by historians of the war, or of naval history in general. The fights of late 1813 and 1814 are often omitted from works of history altogether, as many (correctly) argue that they had no strategic impact on the wider course of the war. Yet to contemporaries, naval and civilian alike, these single ship actions could not have been more important. This volume explores the single ship naval actions during the War of 1812: how they were fought, their strategic context, and their impact on the officers and men who fought them, and the wider British psyche. Trafalgar happened only seven years earlier, and the fighting ethos of the Royal Navy was still hardened by Nelsonic naval culture. Whereas contemporary civilians and modern historians understood the losses as the inevitable result of fighting the vastly superior American ‘super’ frigates, the officers of the navy struggled to accept that they could not cope with the new American warships. The losses precipitated changes to Admiralty policy and drove an urge for vengeance by the officers of the Royal Navy. This volume explores the drama and impact of the British single ship losses and victories to examine Britain’s naval experience in the moments that captivated the British and American world in the last Anglo-American War.

In October 1813, the soldiers of one of Napoleon’s staunchest Allies, Saxony, defected en masse in the midst of battle at Leipzig. Almost immediately III German Army Corps was formed with these same soldiers as its nucleus and augmented with returning former prisoners of war, volunteers and militia. Commanded by the Duke of Saxe-Weimar the Corps was sent to the Southern Netherlands to take part in the final defeat of Napoleon amidst of a constant changing command of control structure, in which the Swedish Crown Prince Bernadotte played a major and dubious role. Although for the greater part inexperienced and badly armed, fighting against the much superior French I Corps which even contained Imperial Guard units, III Corps struggled to prove that it could be trusted, paying a major role to protect the Netherlands against the French as these regions tried to regain their own identity after decades of French rule.

The second part of an investigation into the clothing orders of the late-Georgian British Army, combined and contrasted with an analysis of fashion in the same army - comparing the regulated dress with the 'modes of the army' as revealed by contemporary writing and illustrations. The first quarter of the nineteenth century witnessed a refinement of fashionable masculine dress that has not since been surpassed. Military tailoring inspired a flowering of uniform splendour that continued into the 1830s and sparked an enduring fascination with military costume that still rages today. The army that operated in these cumbersome uniforms managed to achieve fame as one of the most effective British fighting forces ever recognised, and is still remembered and honoured for its achievements. These three strands: the flowering of late Georgian civilian tailoring; of its martial equivalent; and of military excellence on campaign, have gripped the interest and the imagination of the public, and are endlessly revived and recycled through popular culture, on television, film, through books and all of the other new media. The reader then might properly ask why another book on uniforms of this period is necessary. Quite simply, it is because the amount of material available to the researcher has increased exponentially since the advent of the internet, especially in regard to the now widely available digital archive files of institutional collections. The huge amount of accessible material makes the task of assembling accurate information much longer and much harder, but the results are consequentially more satisfying and accurate than hitherto. This, the second of two books on the topic, pays particular attention to the ’Prince’s Regulations,’ of 1812, which exhibit the full extent of the Prince Regent’s excursions into military taste.

This book was written to provide an in-depth study of the Danish and Norwegian armies of the Napoleonic Wars. The goal was to provide a working document which is as accurate as possible, covering the uniforms of these armies, their weapons and their evolution as well as their colors and a look at their basic tactics. Although this is principally a uniform book, historical background is also provided to place the details in their context. This first volume covers the uniforms of the High Command, Guard, and Line and Light Infantry, their arms, equipment, and colors. The product of five years of research, this study grew out of the author’s desire to provide a reference for friends who were painting Danish wargames figures. It soon became apparent that very little was written on the subject in English and this led to extensive research and consultation with experts including Alan Perry of Perry Miniatures and Jørgen Koefoed Larsen. Every effort has been made to reconcile conflicting sources, rather than risk perpetuating myths and errors, and the result is a comprehensive and lavishly-illustrated reference work on this significant but often-overlooked Napoleonic army.

From Across the Sea: North Americans in Nelson’s Navy explores the varied contributions of North Americans to the Royal Navy during Great Britain’s wars against Revolutionary and Napoleonic France. It is the first book that explores this topic in depth. As an edited compilation, top specialists in the field have contributed thematic essays (on topics ranging from impressment to the Anglo-American maritime relationship) as well as biographical essays on a range of North Americans from both the officer ranks and the lower deck. For the biographical portraits, special attention has been paid to individuals who have not already been the subject of extensive research and writing. Accompanying these essays are several never-before-published illustrations depicting some of the key North Americans as well as the ships and naval battles in which they were a part. The book’s central focus is to challenge the common assumption that the Nelsonic-era Royal Navy was manned exclusively by British sailors and officers. Instead, Royal Navy personnel from this era often hailed from different parts of the world, with North Americans comprising a particularly significant contingent. For instance, Nelson’s fleet at Trafalgar had hundreds of Americans as well as Canadians, not to mention individuals from the Caribbean. Thus, From Across the Sea sheds new light on these sailors and officers, showcasing years of original, primary source research on the subject. The book also challenges the misconception that all North American-born sailors who served in the Royal Navy were pressed into service. Instead, a significant number volunteered for service of their own free will, lured into the Royal Navy by visions of adventure and prize money. Others volunteered more reluctantly, figuring that joining the Royal Navy on their own terms was preferable to being forced in by a press gang. Thus, From Across the Sea reveals that impressment was a more complicated topic than most generally assume. Over all, From Across the Sea concludes that North Americans played an integral role in the Royal Navy during the Wars with France, from the lower deck all the way to the highest levels of command. While some of these North Americans operated in relative obscurity, others achieved high rank and formed lasting friendships with some of Great Britain’s foremost naval leaders of the age, including Lord Nelson and King William IV. Theirs is a story that needs to be told, and now it has been told for the first time through From Across the Sea .

This book deals with a series of military operations that occurred in Portugal in 1762 and 1763, during the Seven Years’ War, and which have been largely dismissed by the historiography. They are collectively called the Guerra Fantástica, 'Fantastical War', given the fact that the military units of the countries involved carried out multiple movements while not engaging in any battle. This work begins with an introduction to the phenomenon of war as a whole, to the environment in Europe at the time, and to the military framework of the conflict. It then describes the events that led to the participation of Portugal in the Seven Years’ War and the way in which the conflict in Portugal began. It continues with a presentation of the various forces involved. For this purpose, it analyses in detail the weakness of the Portuguese army, the military reinforcements that were obtained from England, and the arrival in Portugal of the Count of Lippe, whom the King of England had recommended to the King of Portugal to be the commander of the forces, given his recognized ability for the task. It proceeds with an account of the events of the war, starting with an analysis of the invasion of the North of Portugal by the Spanish army and its later withdrawal to Spain. It continues with a description of how the Spanish army, once strengthened by French units, again invaded Portuguese territory, and the events that occurred until its second withdrawal. Despite the numerical superiority of the Bourbon army, the difficulties of the terrain, the efficient command of the Count of Lippe, and the maneuvers of the Anglo-Portuguese army prevented it from reaching victory and forced its return to Spain. The book is an important piece of research, based on archival material. It explores contemporary correspondence between the Court of Spain and the commanders of the force that invaded Portugal, which is available at the Archive of Simancas. It makes use, moreover, of the correspondence between the Secretary of State of Portugal, the Count of Oeiras, and the Count of Lippe, and between the latter and his subordinate commanders, which is extant at the Military Historical Archive of Lisbon. At the same time, this work is reader-friendly, integrating several notes and original documents that help clarify certain of its major points, as well as a list of the units that participated in the military operations.

The Battle of Villamuriel was the largest engagement of Wellington’s retreat from Burgos in 1812. Twice as many men were involved as in the better-known actions at Villadrigo/Venta del Pozo two days earlier. This is the first full length account of the action and improves significantly on previous accounts in the campaign histories by Napier, Fortescue, Oman, and Divall. Archival sources from Great Britain, France, Spain, and Portugal have been used to build a coherent and balanced account. The orders of battle are detailed and the military experience of both the commanders and their units is provided. Detailed maps of the deployment of both forces throughout the action are provided. A detailed breakdown of the casualties on both sides is also given. Also highlighted are the previously unreported role of 9th Foot as an aspiring light infantry regiment, and the 1835 controversy around Napier’s account using the archives of the Sir John Oswald and a potential source for Napier’s account is identified. This has resulted in a detailed study of one day’s action in the 1812 campaign, with a view to extracting improved understanding of how the armies fought. The wargamer is provided with detailed scenarios to enable them to recreate the action on the table top. The action is effectively a rematch between the Anglo-Portuguese 5th Division and the 5e Division of the Armée de Portugal, only a few months after the former successfully dispersed the latter at Salamanca in July. Wellington at Bay includes a Foreword by Carole Divall.

When Charles Edward Stuart launched the last, and perhaps most famous, of the Jacobite Risings in the late summer of 1745, the British Army found itself ill-placed to respond. Its most effective troops were on the continent; regular units at home were weak, inexperienced or both; the Militia system was moribund and politically suspect. When the opposing forces first met in the field, the result was ignominious rout and retreat. Nevertheless, eight months after the Rising began, the Jacobite cause went down in crushing defeat at Culloden. This collection of essays examines in detail some of the units that marched and fought for George II during this tumultuous period. Consideration is given to regular regiments of foot and dragoons as well as to the additional units raised for the emergency. In the latter category, different chapters examine the ‘noblemen’s regiments’ added to the regular line as a piece of political jobbery, the militias raised by clans loyal to the House of Hanover, and the bluecoated volunteer regiments fielded to resist the Jacobite invasion of England. Emphasizing the fact that this was a civil war, three of the units that are considered were Scottish-raised, whilst others contained substantial numbers of Scotsmen in their ranks. The experiences of the units in question varied greatly; some took part in the pivotal battles of Prestonpans, Falkirk, and Culloden whilst others never fired a shot in anger. Taken together, however, these studies provide a new and fascinating insight into the military response to the Jacobite ’45.

This book is about the formative years of the first field marshal in the Corps of Royal Engineers, John Burgoyne, and his service in the Napoleonic Wars. Burgoyne’s early service was in the Mediterranean, followed by service in the Iberian Peninsula from 1808-1814. Having built up a good relationship with Wellington, Burgoyne was selected to command the engineers in the disastrous American campaign of 1814-15. Burgoyne’s father was also a well-known British general who, sadly, is remembered for his surrender of the British Army at Saratoga, rather than for more positive reasons. He died penniless, leaving his children, including John, to be cared for by family friends. Burgoyne seemed to spend the rest of his life working to obtain his independence. Like many engineers, Burgoyne kept detailed diaries, also writing comprehensive letters and analyses of his actions. These give contemporary knowledge of many notable events, particularly during the Peninsular War. His letters to fellow officers give an insight into the opinions and thoughts of an engineer officer, views which are often not visible in official communications. The main theme of the book is to show the development of a young officer during the Napoleonic Wars from an inexperienced subaltern through to someone who advised Wellington and his generals directly on military matters. His involvement with the senior officers in the army was not restricted to ‘engineering’ matters and he was trusted to carry out staff roles on many occasions. Burgoyne was present at many of the sieges and commanded at some. There is a wealth of unpublished information in his journals and letters. Burgoyne was highly critical of some of the sieges, even those that were considered successful. He was also critical of those where he commanded, particularly, Burgos in 1812. When Burgoyne was advising Raglan in the Crimea at the siege of Sevastopol, the failures at Burgos were used to undermine his position. The previous biography of Burgoyne by his son-in-law, George Wrottesley, was published nearly 150 years ago and is flawed in a number of ways. This new interpretation will help our understanding of this officer and present a different view on some of the key events during the Peninsular War.

The 2019 From Reason to Revolution conference took as its theme the experiences of the ordinary British soldier in the era 1721-1815, from enlistment, through service at home, to life on campaign and the experience of battle. This book presents the proceedings of that conference in full, along with an introduction by series editor Andrew Bamford. This was an era in which the social position of the soldier began to change, as did the relationship between the Army and society at large. Soldiers saw service against Jacobite rebels in Scotland and anti-Catholic rioters in London. Campaign service overseas stretched from garrison duties in the growing empire to pitched battles in Flanders and the Iberian Peninsula. Lack of indigenous manpower led to the enlistment of foreigners in large numbers into the British Army itself by the end of the period, whereas in earlier days the shortfall had been made up by hiring mercenaries. As the idea of a social contract became embedded, it was necessary to make provision for pensions for maimed or superannuated soldiers, as well as the more obvious need for medical care for the sick and wounded. The nine chapters contained in this volume all address aspects of these topics, drawing upon focussed case studies from across the long 18th century.

This is the first comprehensive study of Gerhard Scharnhorst in any language. Other than the author’s The Enlightened Soldier: Scharnhorst and the Militärische Gesellschaft in Berlin, 1801-1805 (1989), there exists no other work on Scharnhorst in English. Of the major German works, Das Leben des Generals von Scharnhorst (1869/71) , written by Hanoverian historian Georg Heinrich Klippel, was a popular biography with no critical analysis. In keeping with the political correctness of his time, Klippel failed to include a single document from Scharnhorst’s voluminous papers that was disparaging toward the social, political, and military cultures in Hanover. Seventeen years later, Prussian historian Max Lehmann published his study of Scharnhorst (1886/87), which corrected many of the flaws in Klippel’s work, but failed to provide any critical analysis of Scharnhorst’s modernization, especially as it applied to Prussia. Like Klippel, Lehmann complied with the political correctness of his time in Prussia and Germany. Rudolf Stadelmann, Scharnhorst: Schicksal und Geistige Welt (1952), is an incomplete fragment that offers some interesting insights. Scharnhorst: The Formative Years uses the previous German studies as a starting point to present many unpublished discoveries about his youth, his education and training, his extensive service in Hanover, and the modernization program Scharnhorst sought to implement in Hanover, and later realized in part in Prussia.

There were more sieges than there were battles during the Jacobite campaign in Scotland and England in 1745-1746, yet no one work has concentrated on these episodes. Siege warfare was more common than set piece battles in Europe at this time and the ‘45 was no exception. There were two sieges of both Ruthven Barracks and of Carlisle, whilst the castles at Edinburgh, Blair Atholl, and Stirling were also besieged, as were the more recently-built Forts Augustus, George, and William. The government, noting the threat passed by some of the Highland clans and their allies, built a number of new forts in the Highlands from 1690 and especially after 1716 in order to contain this danger. In theory the Jacobites, with their lack of heavy artillery (save at Stirling) should have been unable to take any of these old or new garrisoned fortresses. Yet in several cases they were able to do so and the results of these sieges was never guaranteed. Conversely the British Army was forced to undertake its last siege against a fortress on British soil. This book examines the eight places which were under siege in 1745-1746, examining the history and strength of the fortress or walled town, its garrison and the strength of the attackers, along with the artillery employed by both sides. It narrates each siege, using manuscript and published contemporary sources in order to do so.

Austria was one of the five major players of the Napoleonic Wars. In early 19th century, the Austrian army (Kaiserliche-KöniglicheHeer) was the third largest and one of the best-trained armies in the world. The individual regiments performed well and were considered solid. However, hampered by the inherent conservatism of the hierarchy, the Austrians had to face the most modern army in Europe. Despite the many defeats suffered, the Austrian soldiers performed with discipline and played a central role in the coalitions against France, from the campaigns in 1790s, to the Austerlitz campaign of 1805, the closely balanced battles of 1809, and the final victorious campaigns of 1813-1814. Austrian cavalry, in particular, was considered one of the best in Europe by allies as well as enemies. For the first time, this topic is introduced starting from the first campaign against France. The book includes the regimental histories of each unit after the original sources, unpublished iconography, and is completed by detailed illustrations depicting uniforms and equipment of the mounted ‘kaiserlich’ white coats.

This biography celebrates the 250th anniversary of the birth of Sir James McGrigor, widely regarded as the father of British Army Medical Services, and explains why he rose to great prominence during the French Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars. McGrigor had a great interest in the medical profession and was a man of integrity, courage, and initiative who loved the Army. He devoted his life to improving medical care of individual soldiers, whether privates or junior officers, and achieved this by personal example and firm leadership. He had the support, loyalty and affection of all his subordinates and the respect and cooperation of senior military commanders. The Duke of Wellington had complete confidence in McGrigor`s ability, and regarded him as the most loyal of public servants. McGrigor had great powers of observation and throughout his long career kept accurate records, partly to advance his own professional knowledge and skill and partly to gain a better understanding of the many diseases which were responsible for nearly four times as many soldiers` deaths than wounds. Throughout his career, and especially when he became Director General of Army Medical Services in 1815, McGrigor ensured that every medical officer received an education and training second to none, enabling him to deliver the best possible medical care to his charges. Measures introduced and employed by McGrigor are as applicable today as they were more than two hundred years ago. This is the story of his remarkable life, which was truly a great adventure.

Rowland Hill was one of the Duke of Wellington’s most trusted subordinates, known for caring deeply for the welfare of his men, but the battles of Arroyomolinos (1811) and Almaraz (1812) show that he was far more than just ‘Daddy Hill’ and a safe pair of hands. He was also a general of considerable skill and daring. At Arroyomolinos he led his troops for days through appalling weather to outmaneuver and then decimate an entire French division in a perfectly conceived surprise attack. At Almaraz he advanced far from allied lines to capture and then destroy a vital French bridge, overcoming considerable logistical challenges and substantial defenses, and paving the way for Wellington’s victory at Salamanca. For both actions, Hill used the same two British infantry brigades as well as Portuguese and Spanish units. The relatively small numbers of units involved has enabled the author to give greater focus on the individual regiments and the men who served in them than is often the case with larger battles. He uses memoirs, previously unpublished letters, and official returns and reports to paint a very detailed picture of two small but important battles of the Peninsular War and the men that fought them.