Nevertheless nearly thirty years elapsed after the peace of Utrecht before England again sent an army to the continent. At first temporary considerations led the governments of George I. and the regent Orleans, threatened by similar dangers at home, to act in concert abroad. A little later Walpole came into power, and his chief aim was the maintenance of peace, in order that the new dynasty might have time to take root. During this period of peace the army lost the efficiency which Marlborough had given it. Political corruption undermined every department of the public service. The traditional jealousy of the existence of a standing army exhibited itself in the form of cutting down the numbers, and neglecting the equipment, of the army which was still kept in existence. The officers, who owed their rank to money or court favour, trained neither themselves nor their men. The only thing which saved England from disgrace in battle after battle was the stolid courage which never knows when it is beaten. This is to all appearance a national characteristic: in other words it is a quality found in most Englishmen, developed in them by the unconscious influence of race, of tradition, of we know not what, but not the outcome of conscious and deliberate training. English soldiers might have incompetent leaders, be ill-supported by their allies, be even placed under foreign generals because the government could find no competent Englishman to command. In spite of every discouragement they exhibited time after time the same obstinate valour, and on the distant battle-fields of India, where the good fortune of England brought men like Clive and Coote to the front, they accomplished feats worthy to rank with the greatest achievements of the Black Prince or Marlborough.
When the war of the Austrian Succession broke out, a strong feeling arose in England in favour of Maria Theresa, who was being deprived by a league of European powers of rights which they had all solemnly bound themselves to maintain. France was her chief enemy, and this doubtless quickened English zeal, though it was not until many months after an army largely English, under George II. in person, had won a victory which drove the French out of Germany, that war was formally declared by France. For two years both English and French had been nominally acting only as auxiliaries to their respective German allies. The battle of Dettingen (June 27, 1743), the last in which an English king has taken part, was not creditable to the skill of either party. The Anglo-Austrian army, in attempting a bold stroke, allowed itself to be so shut in by a very superior French force that its surrender seemed almost inevitable. Mismanagement on the French side brought on a battle under conditions which neutralised this advantage; and they were badly defeated, though the allies, content with rescue from their perilous position, did not press the pursuit.
Two years later (May 11, 1745) the English contingent played a distinguished part in the bloody battle of Fontenoy, fought in the hope of raising the siege of Tournay. The task was almost hopeless, for Marshal Saxe with superior numbers occupied a strong intrenched position, and the allies not only had no general comparable to Saxe, but were not even under the real command of any one. The duke of Cumberland, son of George II., was nominal commander-in-chief by virtue of his rank, but he had practically no authority over his Austrian and Dutch colleagues. The idea of the battle was of mediæval simplicity, direct attack all along the line. The Austrians and Dutch could make no impression on the French right: Cumberland, after more than one unsuccessful attack on their left, formed most part of his British and Hanoverian infantry into a single heavy column 14,000 strong, which broke through the left centre of the hostile line, bearing down all opposition, though suffering enormous loss. If Cumberland had been properly supported at the critical moment, a victory might have been won, but his colleagues would not stir; and his column had to retire under a heavy cannonade, and fiercely assailed in flank by the Irish troops in the French service. They left 4000 dead behind them, but their ranks remained unbroken, and the cavalry ultimately was able to cover an orderly retreat.
The most noteworthy fact about Fontenoy is that on that day the English infantry was led to attack in column, instead of in line. It was very natural that Cumberland should do so under the circumstances; English military science was at a low ebb, and he might well suppose that the methods of the continent were superior. His previous efforts, apparently made in line, had been foiled: it was most natural, since his obstinate courage refused to accept failure as his allies were doing, that he should try another formation. The attack in column was up to a certain point successful, but it would be rash to infer that therefore the column was preferable. The movement of retreat was made under every condition calculated to demoralise soldiers, frightful losses in their own ranks, inability to strike at the enemy in return, refusal of their allies to support them. Troops capable of maintaining their formation with perfect steadiness under such a trial were capable of anything. An attack made by them in line, pressed home with equal determination, would have been quite as likely to succeed, would have cost the enemy more, and themselves much less.
The Jacobite rebellion of 1745, which involved the last fighting that has taken place on British soil, is chiefly remembered because of the romantic interest in the Stuart cause created more than half a century later by the genius of Sir Walter Scott. In the home of their race the Stuarts aroused much chivalrous loyalty, though never was a noble sentiment wasted on more unworthy objects. The advance into England can plausibly be described as a piece of brilliant daring, which went very near to being rewarded with success: but it is perfectly obvious that no other policy offered the remotest chance of succeeding, and equally certain, though perhaps less obvious, that failure was always inevitable. England seemed indifferent: Jacobite zeal was almost dead, and the feeling toward the house of Hanover had not risen above passive acquiescence. Still the apathy was largely superficial: the panic in London, when it was known that the Highlanders were in Derbyshire, is a grotesque proof of this. If the English nation had ever seriously believed that there was a probability of a Roman Catholic king, backed by the strong favour of France, mounting the throne, the chances of the Pretender would have vanished in a moment.
The battles fought during the rebellion, small as they were, point with some force more than one military lesson. At Preston Pans the disgraceful panic flight of the English cavalry left the infantry exposed without support, and with both flanks uncovered, to the sudden rush of the Highlanders. Armed with clumsy muskets which required so long to load that they had no time to deliver a second volley, and with bayonets slow and awkward to fix, they were practically unarmed against the onset of brave men armed in a manner most effective at close quarters. It was no wonder that they imitated the dragoons and took to flight, though with more excuse. At Falkirk General Hawley, grossly incompetent and careless, allowed his army to be surprised: the Jacobites, well handled, and having the further fortune of being able to attack while wind and rain were blinding the enemy, gained a well-deserved victory. At Culloden (April 16, 1746) the Jacobite bubble finally burst. The duke of Cumberland understood his business, and had in his favour superior numbers, and more efficient artillery. The rebels, half starving, had no choice but to fight or disperse. Unable to bear the fire of Cumberland's guns, which instead of being massed were distributed along the front line, two in each interval between regiments, the Highlanders of the right and centre charged desperately home. In spite of Cumberland's ingenious order that his men should thrust with the bayonet each at the enemy to his right, so as to avoid the Highland targets, they succeeded in breaking the front line. The second line however received them with a crushing fire which drove them back in utter rout. The Macdonalds on the left had hung back, sulky at being refused their traditional post on the right: but this only made the difference that a few less fell on both sides. Against discipline and steadiness they had never had a chance of victory.
The treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, 1748, put an end to the European war, and made formal peace between England and France. The differences between the two great rivals outside Europe were however in no way removed: it can scarcely be said that in India or America the peace was ever more than nominal. The French attempt to connect their possessions in Canada with Louisiana gave the English colonies no option but armed resistance, unless they were prepared to abandon all prospect of extension westwards. For some time the contest was carried on in the region of the Ohio, without involving a formal breach between the two nations. In 1756 however, a coalition was formed between Austria, France, Russia, and Saxony for the dismemberment of the Prussian monarchy, which had risen to considerable power under Frederick the Great. Great Britain naturally allied herself with the enemy of France, and English subsidies were of great value to Frederick in his skilful and substantially successful resistance to enormous odds. The part taken by English arms in the war in Germany was not very important. The duke of Cumberland's blundering campaign, which ended in the convention of Closterseven, was made with Hanoverian and other German troops. More than one expedition against the French coast proved practically abortive. In 1759 however British troops had a conspicuous share in the important victory of Minden.
Marshal Contades with a French army of about 45,000 men held Minden, which is situated on the left bank of the Weser, just below the junction of a small tributary, the Wastau. On the approach of Ferdinand of Brunswick with a slightly inferior army, mainly German, but including six regiments of British infantry and some cavalry, Contades determined to give him battle. Accordingly during the night of July 31 he crossed the Wastau, over which he had constructed several bridges, his camp having been hitherto on the south of it, and formed in order of battle two or three miles north and west of Minden, with the left resting on the village of Hahlen, the right extending to the Weser. His own immediate command, about two-thirds of the whole, faced nearly north-west; and for a very inadequate reason his cavalry was massed in the centre, the infantry on the wings, the artillery being as then usual distributed along the front. The duke of Broglie's command, which had hitherto been acting separately, formed the right of the army, at an angle to Contades' line, facing northwards. Prince Ferdinand, advancing also before day-break, placed his army on an arc corresponding to the French, but necessarily somewhat longer, and therefore, as his numbers were less, in decidedly less dense formation. Contades' plan of battle was that Broglie should begin the action by attacking Ferdinand's left wing, and after driving it off, should turn and take the German centre in flank, while he himself attacked it in front. Broglie's opening cannonade however made no impression on the enemy, and he had to content himself with holding his ground. Prince Ferdinand's army was drawn up in a more rational fashion. On his extreme right was a mass of cavalry, under Lord George Sackville the English general: and another body of cavalry faced the immediate right of Contades, while the space between was filled by infantry in two lines, with guns at intervals. A detachment sent forward to drive the French out of Hahlen, in order to clear the way for the artillery to advance, had not yet succeeded in its task, when the English regiments, which formed the right of the infantry line, began to advance. Ferdinand had not intended this, some order seems to have been misunderstood; but the advance once begun could not be checked. Supported by some Hanoverian regiments, the British marched in line, as if on parade, towards the left centre of the French, regardless of the fire poured on them by two batteries, one on each flank. The first line of the French, here entirely cavalry, attacked them in vain: but their continued advance exposed them to flanking fire from the infantry of the French left. Prince Ferdinand sent repeated orders to Lord George Sackville to bring forward his cavalry, and take some of the pressure off the infantry; but he remained obstinately inactive. Had he obeyed orders, the victory would have been decisive and complete: the whole French army must apparently have been driven into the Weser. Charge after charge was delivered upon the English, rather ill combined, with the result that the whole of the splendid French cavalry was completely defeated, and driven off the field, with a loss of 1700 men.
Meanwhile the action had been better sustained on Contades' right; but the defeat of his centre involved the retreat of his whole army. Covered by Broglie's corps, which had not been seriously engaged, the French retired on their bridges, and succeeded in crossing the Wastau, not without sustaining additional losses from the British artillery, which was boldly and skilfully pressed forward as the French left gave way. Broglie made good his retreat into Minden, but not without losing a whole brigade, which was surrounded and had to surrender. The French loss was 7000 men, that of the allies about 2600, of which half fell on the six English regiments, the 12th, 20th, 23rd, 25th, 37th, and 51st, which to this day bear the name of Minden on their colours. But for the English general, the result would have been like that of Friedland, the annihilation or surrender of the whole hostile army, except the few who might succeed in crossing a bridgeless river. Lord George Sackville's military career ended on that day, as well it might: a fortunate accession to property enabled him to enter political life under a new name, but it can hardly be said that the achievements of Lord George Germaine were much more distinguished in the arena of politics than those of his former self on the battle-field.