on 18th century discussions someone asked if the warfare of the 18th century was the most humane ever. I see they did not echo it here. Therefore I post my response as it somewhat glorifies Imagi-Nations.
I will argue that in some sense it was. There was not the regular massacres of the Thirty Years War, and there was an attempt at discipline unlike that earlier period or the wholselale looting of the peasants and rapes and rioting and looting of the Napoleonic wars who were bringing the blessings of "Liberty Equality, Fraternity" to the poor benighted masses of Europe.
From the standpoint of the person hurt by it, the wounded, killed, casualities and looted of 18th century Europe were as wounded, killed, hurt, and looted as their forefathers had been or their descendants would be. But unlike the wars of the previous age or the latter ones (where under nationalism one could do and was justified in doing what on wanted to a foe of "impure blood" in revenge for assumed wrongs, at least the 18th century had the illusion and tried to live by it from time to time. It is a far cry from the hypocrisy of "restraining war" to believing and acting that war was supposed to be to root and branch, tooth and nail, and an exercise in murder.
Sobeiski is right.
Besides there is a certain quality in an age of "Gentlemen of France you may fire first!" or of where we have a certain internationalism where we have such typically "Austrian" names in the "Queen of Hungary's Army" such as MacDonald, O'Toole, Serbelloni, Monteccucoli, Windischgratz, Jellalic, Keith, Oblonof, and in which even a few Turks served.
Perhaps it is only an illusion but it is a happy illusion taken from a few facts that allow us to think that way, but nevertheless how much more wonderful to think that way. At least there are some games in our hobby of war games were we can have this happy illusion where war is not war to the knife, but in some case waged in accord with "Code Duello".
Consider a paraphrase from Hendrik Van Loon's "Lives" in this case from that of Descarte.
"For the better part of the year the armies hibernated in their winter camps. Then when the whether grew less inclement it was time to resume the contest in the great out of doors. But why exhaust yourself plodding around the countryside. Better yet to sit down before some enemy town and fortress and besiege it, seeking to gain a valuable piece to negotiate with at the peace table.
This you did and dug like moles for a few months until you came to the time when you could under flag of truce announce to your opponent. "Sir, tomorrow if I blow my mines and give touch to my cannon, I will destroy three of your bastions, four ravelins, eight redoubts, ten of your demi-lunes and 700 yards of your curtains, whereas you can demolish at most only two miles of my trenches, you can plainly see that your position is hopeless and I have won and you have lost. Will you not consider honorable terms to avoid a useless effusion of blood? Whereupon you, after being led on an inspection of the besiegers works, probed the mines, seen the preparations will make a few calculations with your pencil and say
.,"Honerable Sir you have indeed won and I have lost. I shall accept whatever terms you care to offer. Whereupon you reach to unbuckle your sword and present it to your opponent.
He steps forward and stays your hand and says "Please ! Keep your sword! I would no more accept your sword than strike the brush from a Raphael or the pen from an Erasmus."
"Sir, you do me too much honor!"
"Nothing of the kind! You are a valiant and formidable foe!"
"Sir what terms do you offer?"
"Whatever terms Monsieur that you yourself will write."
"You are too kind may I invite you to dine with me tonight!"]
"It would be an honor sir provided we dine on whatever the garrison will eat tonight."
Which is where Christopher Duffy notes that I believe it was Marlborough and Marshall Boufflers sat down to a thin horsemeat steak.
In the morning the besieging army was lined up on the road out of the fortress. The gates would swing open and the besieged would come marching out flags flying bands playing the airs of the besieger and the besieges would answer with their own bands in kind. You would take your place of honor and review the regiments leaving with all their arms and cannon, and then review the besiegers marching I. Officers who were old friends from both sides, often family members would meet and catch up on family gossip. there would be parties.
After battles where you might be captured if you were an officer you would likely as not be immured in a fortress, where upon your word you had the run of the town and would be invited to all the balls and parties and dinners by the local gentry eager to show off their daughters to dashing foreign officers, and hopeful marriages, and to hear all the gossip and latest fashions as people do travelers tales was not so bad. For the rank and file they would also be released on patrol, might find employment in the local watch or in other ways.
Then there is the testimony of Lee Kennett in the French Army of the Seven Years War, about how the Duke of Brunswick received a letter across the lines from Marshal Chevert about the Chevalier so and so of the Lameth Dragoons, who was prisoner of the Duke and begged him to release him otherwise he would not be able to make a fashionable and profitable marriage back in Versailles. One can imagine what the sour-humored misogynist back in Sans Souci would have said, but I do not doubt that even he would have stood in his way. It was that type of age.
And finally for the most part when Oktoberfest was come the armies went into winter hibernation again, and officers went back to the capital for the holiday celebrations and of course the riotous season of Carnival, and the soldiers hunkered down in cabins, barns or some fortress.
Yes it may be in large part a romanticism and a fairy tale, but there was some substance to it.
And besides. This is war games and we are free to adopt and adapt what myths we want, so I in my part believe and game this way. It sounds to me an utterly delightful way to get on with the messy business of war.
But if you truly want to imbibe the spirit of the age, listen to Haydn's "military" Symphony or "The Clock" Or Neubauer's battalia symphony where the armies move by an elegant minuet and a contretanz.
I'll take the myth with an extra helping of Schlagzahne thank you very much.
Unlike Frederick in my armies, as that of Soubise, I have forty cooks and one spy and think that quite enough (spies I mean, one can never have enough cooks.)
What's the point of dying like the lower class if you cannot live like the upper class.
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