1One of the great strengths of military history is that it is flexible methodologically and can borrow from other types of history as necessary. Traditionally, military history has been operational history—focused on battles and the precise combination of troop movements, technology, logistics, terrain, and officers’ decisions within a larger context of a grand strategy. This approach to military history is still practiced, and—especially as war is sadly not going to be fading into the sunset anytime soon—new engagements will need to be recorded and analyzed in such a manner. Still, questions about war have broadened to include not just battle, but other group violence such as mobs and protest, as well as questions of general security1. Military historians have also continued a trend that began in the 1960s to look at war by employing the tools of social history and asking questions about the relationship between war and society. Most recently, cultural and gender history have become important for understanding soldiers and civilians in times of war, including theories such as the study of experience2.

2This turn towards other methodologies has not been quiet or uncontested. Some historians have feared that traditional military history will fade away and that professors in academic departments who teach military history will find themselves replaced by historians of “trendy” topics, such as material culture, sexuality, and gender3. Others, given voice in the work of Jeremy Black, have pointed out that “culture” can be hard to define and as a dynamic term is not ideally suited to apply to military questions4. Cultural history is indeed very flexible; Lynn Hunt, who has contributed much to the understanding the method, emphasized that “the accent in cultural history is on close examination—of texts, of pictures, and of actions—and on the necessary open-mindedness to what those examinations will reveal”5. In other words, cultural history can be approached from a myriad of different ways—much like military history—and use many different kinds of “texts”, from print to manuscripts to actions to objects to pictures. This open-mindedness, or dynamism, is one trait that makes cultural history adaptable to and by military history, even if that aspect also keeps it from presenting the kind of hard and fast results that Black is apparently seeking. At the same time, Black points out that now is a time when questions of war and culture are especially pertinent, particularly in the United States and United Kingdom, whose recent military interventions in Afghanistan and Iraq have brought questions of conflicting cultures to the fore6. These contemporary interests in military and cultural issues may underlie much of military historians’ interest in expanding their methodologies and broadening the scope of military history.

3At the same time, cultural historians are examining military institutions as exciting sources for cultural analysis. David Bell in particular has marked himself as a cultural historian writing a history of the eighteenth and nineteenth-century French army, and there he specifies that his cultural intervention focuses on changing perspectives surrounding the armed forces and ideas of what was considered “military”7. Like Bell’s work, much of this more recent scholarship on war and culture seems to focus on early modern, Revolutionary, and Napoleonic France. Perhaps that is because French writers of the eighteenth and early nineteenth century seemed keenly aware, as we are today, of the important relationship between war and culture. Eighteenth-century French writers did not necessarily cite the word, “culture”, but they seemed very aware of national characteristics, patriotism, and the relationship between the army and the rest of society. Historians have mined French texts from this era to talk about the relationships between officers and their soldiers, the coming of the French Revolution, the foundations of Napoleon’s army and total war, the relationship between citizenship and soldiers, and concepts like merit8. Philosophes figure prominently in this scholarship, especially Rousseau, Montesquieu, and Mably, as well as leading members of the “military Enlightenment”, such as Guibert, and Servan. All of these writers expounded on war, motivation and martial cultures of the ancients with implications for French society and the army. But those military officers who were not usually considered men of letters also thought deeply about the army in terms of culture. Especially following the monumental loss of the Seven Years’ War to England and Prussia in particular, French military officers examined the army’s culture in terms of how it affected the performance of both soldiers and officers. Their discussions both clarified and complicated their problems—French officers interested in reform found cultural roots that explained some of the French army’s problems, but at the same time found those problems difficult to change. Soldiers’ inherent French character, they argued, meant they naturally disdained harsh discipline, but could be encouraged in feats of bravery and intrepidness. At the same time, reformers recognized the crucial role of discipline in an effective army. While much of the culture surrounding the French nobility encouraged martial prowess, other elements, such as the expectation for high rank and reward for faithful service, inhibited the officer corps from effectively leading the army. Changing these expectations, however, would not be a task that could be accomplished during the old regime. In both cases of the soldiers and the officers, reformers found that larger French culture—here perhaps best defined as expectations surrounding soldiers and officers based on ideas of national character, social class, and status—had to conform to new military expectations.

4France’s tremendous defeat in all theaters of the Seven Years’ War, and the resulting loss of nearly all of their colonies to Britain, motivated army officers to initiate a period of intense reform. There had been cracks showing in the French army edifice before the war, but the numerous and humiliating defeats forced military officers to face problems that had long festered in the army. While philosophes had pondered the relationship between society and the army, comparing them against those of the ancient Greeks and Romans9, military reformers looked to make institutional changes from within. Issues of desertion, lack of training, lack of discipline, questionable recruitment practices, and the general poor quality of life for soldiers required redress. Officers reflected on their own caste to find, among other things, problems with the system of promotion, lack of experience and preparation, and too many officers crowding the highest ranks.

5French reformers in the army were aware of the importance of culture in their military reforms from many perspectives. While ideas of the “la nation” were still young in the eighteenth century, writers widely accepted the idea that “each nation has her character”10—that at least part of a man’s behavior was determined by the country he came from, perhaps influenced by Montesquieu’s notion of the importance of climate to country and character11. These characteristics translated into advantages on the battlefield, as each nation fought in a way that emphasized their strengths. The English, who were easily motivated, fought “for love of country”, whereas “the German has acquired a perfect discipline and obedience” that made him precise and quick in battle. The Spanish exhibited “honor and pride” and his “cold character” translated into “patience” in any military difficulty. Turks and Russians had a reputation among the French for “servile submission” which made them easy to train. In each case, the nations’ armies structured their approach to war around their unique characteristics to achieve maximum success12. Contrasting them from their fellow continental soldiers, French militaires had a “passionate”13 character that led them to “impetuous actions”14. Officers saw this temperament rising from the loyalty a soldier felt for his “honor” and “prince”15. At the same time, these characteristics “made him difficult to discipline”16 and “incapable of actions which demand a persevering courage, an unrelenting stability”17. Reformers largely believed that compared to their European neighbors, the “French soldier is more flighty, lighter, and less faithful than in any other nation” because “he loves liberty [and] has a horror of servitude”18. As such characteristics were inherent in “his temperament” they could not be ignored or changed, but reformers would have to adapt to them in order to reap the best service from their soldiers19.

6In the context of military reform, such national characteristics meant that reformers could not find much inspiration for their reforms from rival armies. It could be tempting to model the French army after the Prussians, for example, who had emerged victorious from the Seven Years’ War, but their approach to the army was different from France. Reformers recognized that any reform for the French army had to be “adapted [to] their morals, their education, their character, to their form of government, to their customs, and the climates that they inhabit, to their fortune... especially to their opinions”20. French soldiers, one reformer claimed, would “never arrive at German discipline, likewise we will never have the Spanish sang froid”21 for “the same discipline does not work for all people”22. Forcing military men to act in a manner that contradicted these inherent national characteristics inevitably led to their dissatisfaction and defeat.

7Because national considerations determined certain characteristics, considerations of French culture had to come before discussions of specific reform measures. As one reformer stated, “the laws that are established for the military men must be analogous to the spirit of this corps”23. Knowledge and respect for this “spirit” took precedent over other considerations, such as “finances and the number of soldiers” or “the treaties and the alliances”. In order to “estimate [the] force” of the army, it was first and foremost important to estimate “state and the happiness of men”24. Other reformers agreed that a “happy soldier” was paramount to a strong army. Flavigny, another reformer, argued that “a reflective government” who knew “the genius of his nation” would be able to put the soldier “in the happy inability to do wrong”25. In other words, Flavigny asserted that by creating a system around the “national genius” or cultural characteristics of the soldier, the soldier could not help but perform well. By giving culture precedence in military reform, officers would be able to construct a system that would make the best of the French soldiers’ natural martial characteristics and obtain the best performance possible from the French army.

8This recognition of national character and the elements inherent in the French soldier came to the fore especially in discussions of discipline. French soldiers had performed poorly in the Seven Years’ War largely because their discipline did not match that of the Prussians and other armies, yet correcting this problem proved difficult, as French soldiers were not as “given” to discipline as their Prussian counterparts. While acknowledging that the French needed to improve their discipline, one anonymous reformer reasoned that “the German acquired a perfect discipline all the more easily because of his character to obey”. He concluded that the French “will never obtain German discipline”26. Many others joined him in a chorus of agreement when Saint-Germain, the minister of war from 1775 to 1777, instituted measures that required officers to discipline their soldiers with beatings of a cudgel or the flat side of a saber. Officers rebelled against such a notion as being too German or Prussian and therefore inherently against French nature. One anonymous writer cried that “the composition of the German army does not agree at all with the French army”27. M. Rocreuse added that German-style discipline would never work with the French because, “the French must never be hit”28. Another anonymous writer agreed that “the French soldier will never get accustomed to the punishment of blows with a cudgel; the French see it as shameful and dishonoring”. Being beaten only “demeans the soul of the French and blackens his heart”29. The idea of beating a French soldier shocked the very “spirit and the character of this nation”. It was impossible to acknowledge the honor inherent in a French soldier and at the same time use the baton or “instrument” of “outrage”. According to the maxim of national character and culture, the French soldier loved his liberty, and a form of discipline that riled on corporal punishment would deprive him of it30. After all, “each nation has his character as their hearts; the French soldier fears punishment as punishment, and he is not offended by it when he knows that he deserves it”31. Drawing on the belief that armies had to operate according to their “national genius” French writers found that beatings were inherently too “German” and counter to French nature.

9Some argued that the Prussian discipline was so extreme, it had a negative effect on their own troops. In some French reformers’ minds, it over-accentuated the obedient, even “automatonic” nature of the Prussians. One reformer clarified that disciplined Prussians were “not citizens” but an “assemblage of wage-laborers [stipendaires], vagabonds, and foreigners” who were little better than criminals and had no understanding or concern for why they were fighting, and therefore needed harsh discipline to keep them in their ranks. Furthermore, “this firm and vigilant discipline” was so severe that sometimes, the reformer claimed, it “invited scorn from its own people”32. Not only was Prussian-style discipline un-French, even the Prussians whose national character supported such violence found it to be too much.

10Everyone knew how important discipline was to the operations of any army. One reformer noted that it was “the base and foundation of the military art, without it, brave [soldiers] simply confront dangers without knowing how to defeat them”33. Even with this acknowledgement, reformers knew that they would have to rely on other aspects of the French soldier to become competitive in the field once more. French culture demanded a new kind of discipline. Prussian-style beatings were “foreign to the character of the nation and even more to the one of the soldier”34. As soldiers, these men had “more honor, elevation in his soul, firmness in his courage than an ordinary citizen”35. Souliart, a sous-aide major, characterized the French as “the gentlest and most honest of people” and such a “harsh treatment cannot be appropriate for a soldier recruited” from among them. A French soldier has “a reputation to conserve, his soul is made for elevating it, for enlarging it, and not for being demeaned, and the esteem that one sees in him is the best gage of his fidelity and of his zeal to fulfill his duties”36. Despite all this attention given to the need to tighten French discipline in a manner that was sensitive to the character of the French soldier, officers never found a permanent solution for it during the old regime. Saint-Germain’s maxim of blows with a baton or saber as a means of encouraging discipline faded when he left office in 1777. The measure returned, however, about ten years later, when the comte de Guibert, as the head of the Conseil de Guerre, reinstituted it, consciously trying to draw from the Prussians’ more disciplined example. In the interim period, reformers made many suggestions but continued to disagree.

11While reformers did not completely bring military protocol perfectly in line with French national character during the old regime, their discussions concerning discipline and French soldiers reveal the importance of culture to military reform. While civilian men of letters were at the same time talking about making French society and culture more “military”, officers focused instead on changing the army to suit the culture. Rather than change French culture in a way that would make the soldiers naturally more accepting of discipline, officers tried to find ways to make the discipline more palatable to the soldiers. Only when the military system perfectly complimented the inherent, “natural” or cultural traits of the French, and officers submitted the soldiers to “treatment analogous to the national character” could the soldiers perform well on the battlefield37.

12During this period of reform, military writers likewise addressed problems in the officer corps that made it inefficient and clumsy. Officers expressed frustration over lack of combat opportunities to prove their zeal for the service of the king and win awards and pensions. The social status connected with high rank also meant the top echelons of officers were crowded with expectant, but not always capable nobles. Such observations turned the conversation of reform away from national character and culture and more towards noble status and cultural and social expectations involved therein. Whereas reforms for soldiers had to bring the experience of the army closer to “French culture” as part of national personality, discussions relating to the officer corps revolved around changing the culture in order for officers to perform better on the battlefield. In order to maintain their honor and their social position and prestige, French officers, even if born of noble status, had to prove that they merited their privileges by demonstrating their courage and honor. Winning a battle or performing well publically helped officers advance in rank and become eligible for military decorations or prestigious pensions. Getting wounded in combat and shedding blood seemed to hold particular regard as far as demonstrating an officer’s “zeal for the service of the king”. This was especially on display during the Seven Years’ War38. Following the Seven Years’ War, however, there were few opportunities to demonstrate that honor or courage, as peace reigned in the continent, and only a few officers fought in America during the American Revolution as either volunteers or part of Rochambeau’s army. In the meantime, officers used the reform effort to express their “zeal” for the service of the king by writing about the military crisis and proposing their ideas. While this time is known for the outpouring of writing from Enlightenment thinkers from famous philosophes to lesser-known men of letters, it was a time of intense introspection and writing from the military officers as well.

13Just as officers would rush to offer their services at the outbreak of war, to gain a chance to exhibit their worth and put themselves forward for rewards, they jumped at the opportunity to write the king with the ideas that would lead to a more efficient and effective army. One military man voiced his frustration shortly after the Seven Years’ War about “the peace and the silence of weapons” that forced him to “write” his “zeal”, though he was “little practiced at this genre of exercise”. Like war, though, the document was designed to “augment if it is possible the glory of [the King’s] scepter”. As he could not “spill my blood for the good of the service” he instead “suggested some projects”39. This eager military officer was not alone; a Captain aide major also found himself writing ideas for reforming the soldiers in the army as a sign of his “zeal for the service of the king” and to show that he was “ardent for my métier”40. Nor was the outpouring of zeal short-lived. A decade later, memoirs still explained how “each officer wants very much to give proof of his zeal” and that “it is an incredible emulation”. The officer himself offered “some reflections on the subject” of this eagerness, for, like with his fellow officers, “zeal inspires it”41.

14Other officers used the act of writing memoires as a way to reflect on, and give meaning to, their careers. The Marquis de Monteynard wrote to the king with ideas on how to prevent desertion among the troops because “zeal for the service of the king alone dictated it to me” and his “habit of living with the troops and the knowledge of the soldiers’ spirit” made him an ideal candidate to help in that way42. Reneaume de La Tache believed his years of service had given him a unique and valuable perspective on the army and how to improve it. His “observations contained in these memoirs are the result of a long experience; they are dictated uniquely by an inalterable zeal for the service of the king for the glory of his arms”43. In writing about zeal and reform, the officers showed that the culture of reward and expectation for promotion was a constant in the army. While they might not have been able to shed blood for the service of the king, they tried to make up for it by spilling lots of ink.

15While exhibiting their zeal for king and career, these officers questioned what within the culture of the French nobility might have led to their defeat in the Seven Years’ War. The Chevalier de Rochelambert respected the “rank, authority, zeal, and lumières” of his fellow officers, and found them “irreproachable in their function, incorruptible in their good mœurs, and exemplary in their conduct”, only naturally a product of “good military system”. He could not find any fault in the “able officers” of France, for there was “nowhere any better lumières”. He could not help but notice, however, that “we are often beaten. Who is to blame?” he asked44. Others responded that the blame rested entirely with the officers that Rochelambert had been so quick to praise. An anonymous author complained that the officer corps had been infiltrated by those without the proper noble status necessary in an officer. He complained of “the arbitrary usurpation of the qualities of Marquis, Comte, Barron, Vicomte, Chevalier, that only the king can grant” as well as “the humiliation or the ruin of the nobility by the comparison or imitation of financiers”. This “confusion of the nobility with the roturier” was especially egregious when these pretentious financiers carried “the sword, the only distinction reserved to the nobility”45. This “watering down” of the noble officer corps could not help but make the army suffer for want of true talent and deserving men. David Bien has complicated our understanding of the severity of the problem by pointing out the roturiers who entered the army were in the minority throughout the old regime46. It was a concern, however, and made noble-born officers question the qualities and source of good officers. Concerning the elements of a good officers, La Caronne, comte de Montrevily, a colonel in the regiment de Barry, noted that they only needed “bravery, obedience, firmness of discipline, zeal and attachment to the service for the King”. Such characteristics made a man “a good captain, good lieutenant, good sous-lieutenant”. His list did not include much training, education, experience, or traits by birth. On the other hand, and especially as the ranks increased, the noble preoccupation of birth greatly harmed the officer corps. The anonymous author who feared the roturiers in the army pointed to “birth” as a strong influence “in the choice of colonels”. As a result, “most of them are too young and too little tried to enter in all the details of the conduct of a corps”. Compounding their lack of experience was their difficulty in getting “enough consideration among the old military men to be obeyed”. As a consequence, they spent little time with their men, and “only know of the goings on from a distance”47. All the zeal in the world for the service of the king could not compensate for the continual absence of officers of high rank. The element of French noble culture that prized high birth above what could be learned also seemed to hamper the performance of French officers.

16Many reformers acknowledged the part of noble culture that expected rewards and regular promotions, especially among the high court nobility, created problems. Yet after decades of reform, and many attempts at stifling the privilege of the higher court nobles and their hold on advanced rank, the French army continued to wrestle with the same problems through the 1780s. Members of the haute noblesse expected to obtain the highest ranks, resulting in too many generals for efficient army operation. De Laissac condemned the French propensity to make officers of high social status into generals too quickly. His book deserves attention at length, for in it, he pointed out the many aspects of French culture that weighed down the French army with excessive generals and excessive expectations.

17De Laissac first took issue with the role of birth in determining who would ascend to the highest ranks of the French army. “A young man of quality, however stupid he may be, is always judged capable to command a regiment, from where he is progressively promoted and without difficulty into the highest ranks”. This befuddled him greatly, because it contrasted so greatly with other professions where the stakes were not so high. In “professions of civil order” for example, “it is necessary at least to show proof of some ability”. Yet at the same time, “one can, without showing the least talent, become employed in war” by far “the most important and the most difficult” of all professions48.

18In addition to the incompetence of many men who became generals, De Laissac pointed out that there was not nearly enough work to occupy the “excessive multiplicity of general officers”. Many of them only just began to “learn their art” after a war was already underway, when these inexperienced generals would be given large commands and “decide public destiny”49. Compounding the problem of inexperienced generals was that most of them resided in the “maison militaire”—the king’s personal bodyguard. While minister of war in the 1770s, Saint-Germain had tried to shrink this branch of the army, but his plan had met with a good deal of resistance and still made up a significant part of the French army. The anonymous reformer did not think that these men were wholly without potential as military assets, but with all the “whirlwind of intrigues at court, and their need to constantly solicit favors, these gentlemen had no time to develop their military capabilities”50.

19While he decried the practices of the maison militaire and the quick promotions based on birth and court influence that gave so many young unqualified men military authority, De Laissac sympathized with their plight. The culture of France, he recognized, lay at the root of this problem. For “young men of quality” in France, the “army career is the only one” that “they could have or even want”. He acknowledged the point of view that such a system was necessary in order to provide “great prospects to the Young Lords”. But he found fault with this expectation in French society, to provide choice positions for young men who are already “overwhelmed with gifts of fortune and favors of the Sovereign”. He could not understand how a wealthy noble could become a Lieutenant general so easily, “often without having left the court, possessing necessarily and by the grace of nature, superior talents” whereas a man of high class but slightly humbler origins could be considered incompetent of leading a few men51. Lack of talent was not at the root of these issues in the French army, but “futile etiquette” that demanded French nobles behave a certain way. At court, near the monarch, French nobles became subsumed by “the intrigues of ambition or pleasure” and that, more than anything else, fueled decisions governing the army. He ended the piece by calling on the “children of French heroes” to seek instead “the admiration of the world, the gratitude of the patrie” and the “hope of an eternal memory”. In other words, he wanted French culture supporting the officer corps to change52.

20From the 1760s through the early 1780s, reformers in the army made connections between difficulties in the army and larger French culture. In the case of the soldiers, they wanted to change the system regulating the soldiers to make it more compatible with French national character. In the case of the officer corps, it was noble culture, many reformers argued, that needed changing. This conversation between officers and reformers continued for two decades, but change seemed slow or inconsistent. Part of the difficulty in enacting these reforms lay in the diversity in France and the army that some of the reformers’ memoirs did not recognize. Officers’ calls to reform the army based on the national character of their soldiers begged the question of the foreign soldiers in the French army, who hailed from one of the German states or other places in continental Europe. Most French at the time also identified most strongly with a regional culture such as Norman or Gascon, for example, and would not have considered themselves “French” as the officers seemed to imply53.

21Similarly, changing the culture of the noble classes that supported the officer corps was easier said than done. While reform-minded authors pointed out that the culture of privilege that highly favored the upper court nobles impeded the effectiveness of the army, challenging ingrained privilege did not happen easily or naturally. Those who benefited from these privileges understandably fought to keep them. As the chevalier d’Arc argued in his famous piece on the noblesse militaire, only noble officers had the honor and virtues necessary for the army, and even if the officer corps welcomed non-nobles, the king should keep a group of volunteer nobles, purely to communicate that sentiment of esprit to the rest of the army54.

22Does that mean French reformers were powerless to do anything about these tensions between French culture and the army? What use is recognizing cultural importance if it is impossible to change? These conversations surrounding reform for officers and soldiers, though, effected the future of the French army, especially as it neared the Revolution55. Within these cultural discussions, one can see the groundwork for the great divide between soldiers and officers during the Revolution by placing them in two different camps: the soldiers in a “National” camp, and the officers in a “noble” camp, that became largely separated and required different attentions and systems. During the Revolution, the French army became stymied by its potent political meanings in which supposedly “patriotic” soldiers opposed their more “aristocratic” officers56. The roots of that are here, in the way that the military officers identified themselves and their soldiers as two completely different cultural entities. This isolation of the two parts of the army is not surprising—soldiers and officers came from completely different parts of society and performed very different functions—yet the divide between them was so clearly articulated in the different ways of reforming the army that it precipitated the antagonism that surfaced during the Revolution. At this point, noble officers were already writing themselves outside the national idea of France and therefore writing themselves out of the Revolution that was about to transpire.

23This short example also shows why French history is particularly fruitful topic of study for both military and cultural historians. There has been a recent explosion of military historians applying the cultural turn to French history as well as cultural historians looking to the French army. John Lynn, an authority on France’s old regime and Revolutionary army, adopted aspects of cultural history and “discourse”, as well as the significant yet understudied role of women in the French army57. Brian Sandberg, his student, made a study of martial honor among sixteenth and seventeenth-century nobles58. Currently, about a third of Wayne Lee’s “Warfare and Culture” series with New York University Press consists of books on the French army. At the same time, cultural historians are asking military questions of France. In addition to David Bell’s book, for example, there is Mary Louise Roberts’ book on the American GI in France in World War II, and their effect on French women and ideas of masculinity59. The dialogue between cultural and military historians on these topics change and challenge what both cultural and military history mean in these contexts, adding to the dynamism of an already animated dialogue.

24This brief glimpse into the cultural concerns of French army officers supports Jeremy Black’s observation that culture is indeed an imprecise yardstick, a dynamic lens of analysis that does not produce the fixed, precise measurements some military historians expect. At the same time, culture has been and remains a powerful force in understanding the army’s structure and operations. Historians’ continuation in exploring and unpacking the relationships between war, military institutions, and culture can only broaden and strengthen military studies in general. The people who make up armies and the societies that support them are dynamic creatures, and we need to consider their cultural contexts in order to more fully understand them and the wars they wage.