Cavalry Tactics: La Noue’s theory of shock
[posted by Gavin Robinson, 8:07 am, 3 October 2012]
Francois de La Noue (1531-91) was a protestant commander in the French Wars of Religion. He wrote a military treatise that was translated into English by Edward Aggas and published as The politicke and militarie discourses of the Lord de La Nouue Whereunto are adjoyned certaine observations of the same author, of things happened during the three late civill warres of France. With a true declaration of manie particulars touching the same in 1588. I’ve referred to this book before because it has a lot of interesting things to say about lances and pistols. In the lance post, I mentioned that La Noue had a distinctive theory of shock. Now I’m going to look at it in more detail (or at least the version given in the English translation, which might not be exactly what La Noue wrote; for convenience I’ll be referring to it as ‘La Noue’).
La Noue uses the word shock several times. Although it’s often associated with lancers, it isn’t always. Sometimes it clearly refers to something other than the effect of the point of the lance on enemy armour:
I will say, that although the squadron of Speares doe give a valiant charge: yet can it worke no great effect: for at the onset it killeth none, yea it is a miracle if any be slayne with the speare: onely it may wound some horse, and as for the shocke it is many times of small force (p. 201)
Here the shock is different from killing or wounding with the spear. Sometimes it might refer to the force that knocks a rider off a horse. That seems to be what it means here:
I wil not otherwise speak of these mightie blowes that cleave a man to the waste, or cut asunder a Vantbrasse arme and all: neither of those shockes or fals that doe a man no harme, but that he may rise and leape againe upon his horse back, as he were become a leopard
In other places it seems to mean something else again. La Noue also uses the word ‘overthrow’. Sometimes this could mean riders being knocked off their horses by a lance, as with the shock in the quote above, but sometimes it can’t:
Then did the squadrons of speares growe into credite, who (as I have heard) were so aranged by the Emperour Charles, who meeting our files of men of arms did easilie overthrow them, which also the squadrons of Rheitres have sometimes done: neither is it much to be mervailed that it came so to passe for natural reason sheweth it, which willeth that the strong carrie awaie the weake: Also that sixe or seaven ranks of horsemen joyned together ouerthrow one alone. (p. 186)
Since reiters don’t have lances, they can’t be using them to knock the enemy down, so this ‘overthrow’ must be something else. It could be a metaphor that refers to a psychological effect, or it could just mean ‘defeat’ without specifying how. La Noue soon goes into a bit more detail:
we must not care so much, that everie one at the meeting strike one blow with his speare: but rather that it may bee able to overthrowe all that come agaynst it, which is much bravelyer done when it is in the squadron? It may lykewise bee replyed that the squadron cannot overthrowe above fifteene or sixteene horse at the most of the troupe that standeth in a haie, which is true, but those shall be about the Ensigne, where the Captaines and best men are placed: which being carried awaie, al the rest shaketh, and although that parte that hath not bene touchd doe close up the flankes of the squadron, yet doth it small harme, in that it cannot enter upon the men that are thus in a heap united together: who likewise in their shockes doe strike those as well as the first, and breake them. Yea, although three or foure troupes of horse be araunged in a haie one at anothers heales, yet shall a squadron overthrow them all almost as easilie as the boule doth many rankes of scailes (pp. 186-7)
The reference to a boule is obviously a simile so we shouldn’t take it too literally. But earlier he mentions the 15 men in the middle being overthrown, which causes the others to shake. It seems to me that this means that the 15 who are in the way of the squadron are somehow physically moved, and that this demoralises the rest, who haven’t been touched. It also seems that La Noue imagines that the members of the squadron are somehow rigidly joined together. He makes a clear distinction between a squadron and three or four single lines at each other’s heels. I’m not sure why they should be different as a squadron in a deep formation is still made of several ranks close behind each other but actually moving independently. As I pointed out in the physics post, there’s no way to rigidly join cavalry horses together, so they never physically behave as a single body. La Noue may be appealing to some pre-Newtonian ideas about physics (Aristotle would be one of the usual suspects) but it might as well be magic.
Sith therefore that it is one principle that squadrons doe breake with the vyolent shocke which they susteyne, may we not thereupon inferre, that those that keepe themselves closest and doe strike with the whole bodie conjoyned, doe worke the greatest effect: It is hard to denie it: and who doe better practise those rules then the Reistres? (p. 200)
Here he’s even more explicit that the squadron is somehow joined together. The word ‘break’ is often used as a metaphor in writing about battles, and can mean broken morale, but La Noue could be using it to mean that the joins of the formation are physically broken apart.
Whatever La Noue was saying, his ideas about close formations and shock don’t reappear so prominently in English drill books in the early 17th century. Cruso cited some parts of the original French version of La Noue’s treatise but didn’t discuss this idea of shock in detail, although traces of it are still hanging around:
Some authors (for the disposing of the Cuirassiers for fight) hold that they ought to be ordered in grosse bodies, that so (by their soliditie and weight) they may entertain and sustain the shock of the enemie. (Cruso, p. 42)
Cruso doesn’t say who these authors are (the marginal notes for this passage only mention classical sources which can’t have anything to do with cuirassiers) but it seems very similar to La Noue, who is cited on the same page for his advice to only use the pistol at very close range.
Robert Ward’s 1639 drill book Anima’dversions of warre mostly concentrated on the use of pistols and seems to have completely rejected La Noue’s theory of shock:
Moreover the Wedge is of greater strength than the Rhombes, because it bringeth more hands to fight, for the hinder part of the Rhombe is of no use but to avoyde surprises, for it avayleth nothing in charging, whereas all parts of the Wedge are effectuall (Ward, p. 314)
This discussion of impractical and obsolete formations shows that Ward’s work wasn’t closely related to contemporary reality, but I’m just quoting it here because it directly contradicts pp. 186-7 of La Noue that I quoted above. Although Prince Rupert seems to have used the close-range pistol tactics favoured by La Noue, the testimony of Richard Atkyns and Sir Richard Bulstrode that royalist cavalry were only three deep on at least some occasions suggests that they weren’t influenced by La Noue’s shock theory. The deep and close formation used by Heselrig’s lobsters at Roundway Down is consistent with what La Noue wrote, but this battle just proved that it didn’t work (Young, ‘Praying Captain’, p. 58; I’ll quote it in detail next week).
You should also be able to see parallels with things that I’ve criticized various modern historians for writing. There’s Glenn Foard’s ‘breaking them with the sheer force of impact’, Austin Woolrych’s ‘relying on the sheer weight of impact for their greatest effect’, and of course Wanklyn and Jones’s ‘Close order turned the whole squadron into a single missile, maximizing the shock of impact’ (Foard, Naseby, p. 251; Woolrych, Battles, p. 73; Wanklyn and Jones, Military History, p. 34). Either they’re using misleading metaphors, or they’re repeating the same fallacy as La Noue.
Comment by Gene Hughson — 2:17 pm, 3 October 2012 [permanent link to this comment]
The question of metaphor or misunderstanding will probably depend on the author. La Noue, given his “up close and personal” experience, should be one of the metaphor group. Those observing matters from a more distant vantage point could well mistake the intersection of formations as a physical collision. The loss of cohesion on the part of a formation would resemble the physical “shattering” of an object. These would make the imagery understandable, if not literally accurate.
Comment by Erik Lund — 7:17 pm, 3 October 2012 [permanent link to this comment]
Men are being thrown without physical contact. That suggests horse balking to me, so it is probably the kind of “morale effect” that always has my teeth on edge when other historians invoke it.
Comment by Gavin Robinson — 7:31 am, 4 October 2012 [permanent link to this comment]
Gene: Early-modern people believed all sorts of weird things that we now know can’t possibly be true. Just one example: men who had experience of having sex with women believed that women were sexually insatiable because their humours were too cold and wet! That doesn’t mean we should treat people in the past as stupid, but we have to at least consider the possibility that La Noue imagined things that hadn’t happened.
Erik: The paradox is that so far I haven’t found any drill book or treatise that explicitly says the object of a charge is to intimidate the enemy into running away, but that’s how I think it worked in practice, at least some of the time.
Comment by Gene Hughson — 1:11 pm, 4 October 2012 [permanent link to this comment]
Gavin: Indeed. One of my favorite examples was an old wood cut showing a pneumatic explanation for a male physical process (no need for Viagra, just take a really deep breath). Definitely an interesting hypothesis, but one that didn’t survive once dissection became more common. Likewise, belief in humours declined once we gained the ability to observe the causes of various conditions and provide better explanations. Though ironically, we retain the language far longer than the belief (we may still refer to someone as ‘bilious’ even though we no longer blame his bodily fluids for the condition). Essentially, that was my point – La Noue, as an active participant, was in a position to have better knowledge of what was taking place, but would have hewn to the terminology people were familiar with. That’s not to say he couldn’t have been mistaken, but I consider it the less likely scenario.
Comment by Gavin Robinson — 5:57 pm, 4 October 2012 [permanent link to this comment]
It’s also possible that this comes from the translator and not the original author, so there’s plenty of scope for doubt about what La Noue really meant. Maybe someone who knows the original French version can tell me how accurate Aggas’s translation is.
Comment by Tiberius Clausewitz Drusus Nero Germanicus — 10:18 am, 7 October 2012 [permanent link to this comment]
The paradox is that so far I haven’t found any drill book or treatise that explicitly says the object of a charge is to intimidate the enemy into running away, but that’s how I think it worked in practice, at least some of the time.
The thing is, if you want to intimidate opponents into running away, you have to go at them as if you’re trying to physically bowl them over. This is what the White Russian cavalry general Shinkarenko explained in a presentation in France: that shock doesn’t exist in a cavalry charge (since in a successful charge the enemy will flee before contact), but one must nevertheless seek it in order to achieve victory (since the enemy will only run away if they’re convinced that you wouldn’t hesitate to physically crash into them if they didn’t).
So there’s no point telling cavalrymen that you want them to charge just so that the enemy would get scared and run away. It’s better to let them believe that they’re going to physically slam into the enemy and overthrow them, since why would the enemy believe so if they (i.e. your cavalrymen) didn’t?
Comment by Gavin Robinson — 11:22 am, 7 October 2012 [permanent link to this comment]
That’s a good point. Maybe cavalry tactics are based on a necessary lie. You also need your cavalrymen to believe that they’re immune to Newton’s third law, which should be a hard sell but apparently isn’t. Whatever cavalry theorists thought they really meant, I think historians have failed to read them critically enough.
Comment by Tiberius Clausewitz Drusus Nero Germanicus — 3:24 am, 8 October 2012 [permanent link to this comment]
I wouldn’t quite call it a lie. After all, if you’re in the middle of a cavalry charge (or, for that matter, an 18th- or 19th-century bayonet charge), would you go with the intention of merely scaring the enemy off? In all likelihood you’d be thinking of actually meeting and defeating them in hand-to-hand combat, though ironically it is this very attitude that renders hand-to-hand combat unnecessary by striking fear into the enemy’s hearts.
Besides, I’m pretty sure you’re also familiar with the other two possible outcomes of a cavalry charge: both sides slowing down to a halt and engaging in hand-to-hand combat along the front edges of their formations, or both sides “threading” through each other and then attempting to reform on the other side. Since 16th- and early 17th-cntury infantry were apparently less reluctant to engage in hand-to-hand combat than their 18th-century descendants, it’s also quite probable that cavalry were more willing to go hand-to-hand back then, which means that these latter two outcomes would have been more common than they would become later on.
In fact, I usually read La Noue’s statement about the advantage of the reiters as referring to the situation where neither formation flinches and the two “threads” through each other; this way, the depth and close intervals of the pistol-armed formation would allow more men to engage each lancer as he passed through, and would also help to provide “nucleation sites” for rallying and reforming the troop once the two sides had passed clear through each other.
Comment by Gavin Robinson — 7:24 am, 8 October 2012 [permanent link to this comment]
In the next post I’ll be suggesting that very close order gets in the way of threading, and that threading without stopping is only useful if you’re charging with the point of a lance or sword. It seems to me that La Noue is arguing for two contradictory things, because reiters who are so close that they seem to be glued together can’t mingle with the enemy, which is when they’re supposed to be most dangerous.
Comment by Tiberius Clausewitz Drusus Nero Germanicus — 1:15 pm, 8 October 2012 [permanent link to this comment]
On the other hand, later dragoons and cuirassiers (the Napoleonic kind, that is) also fought in very close order, and yet we read that there’s plenty of room for them to go threading through enemy formations (or, if they couldn’t keep their momentum going, for opposing hussars/chasseurs/Jagers to break in and engage them in one-to-one combat where the lighter horsemen had the advantage).
Personally, I think there’s still going to be enough room for horses (and horsemen) to crowd into even tighter files as they thread through and past the enemy. Even in infantry combat there’s an informal “scrum order” way tighter than the closest order ever prescribed in any regulation (including Aelian’s “Macedonian” drill and 16th/17th-century pike manuals).
Comment by Gavin Robinson — 1:34 pm, 8 October 2012 [permanent link to this comment]
The next post (probably on Wednesday) will look at various examples of how close cavalry could or couldn’t get. The short answer is that I suspect they didn’t keep as close as theorists said they should.
Comment by Hwiccee — 1:25 pm, 11 October 2012 [permanent link to this comment]
“I wil not otherwise speak of these mightie blowes that cleave a man to the waste, or cut asunder a Vantbrasse arme and all: neither of those shockes or fals that doe a man no harme, but that he may rise and leape againe upon his horse back, as he were become a leopard”
Can I ask what the context of this is? Perhaps you could post the section before this?
I think that without the context to this it is difficult to judge what it means.
Comment by Gavin Robinson — 1:45 pm, 11 October 2012 [permanent link to this comment]
I think he’s complaining about chivalric romances. It’s immediately preceded by “When a man hath bestowed all his time in reading the bookes of Amadis, yet wil it not all make him a good soldiour or warriour. For to attaine to be the one or the other, he shall neede nothing that therin is contayned.”
Comment by Hwiccee — 3:05 pm, 11 October 2012 [permanent link to this comment]
Umm I suspected as much. I don’t think that this ‘shock’ is anything to do with tactics.
Comment by Gavin Robinson — 5:57 pm, 11 October 2012 [permanent link to this comment]
No, it doesn’t, but I was trying to analyse the language used in Aggas’s translation of La Noue, and this ‘shock’ is definitely a word.
Comment by Hwiccee — 2:26 pm, 15 October 2012 [permanent link to this comment]
OK but you said that this suggested being knocked off your horse. This section is just poetic language and he is using the word in a poetic sense. Shocks and falls here means something like wounds, setbacks and failures.
Comment by Gavin Robinson — 4:11 pm, 16 October 2012 [permanent link to this comment]
I think we agree that it means something different from the other occurrences that I quoted later.