All seemed well for Heinrichsen and the countless others producing their little armies. But a flaw existed throughout the Zinnsoldaten world - the painting. With the exception of "special" pieces, the painting and finishing of the miniatures of the time was lousy. The literature, together with surviving pieces (and the ones in my own collection are no exception), shows us that the painters knew nothing, or at best, very little, about uniforms. This is somewhat surprising, especially considering the German penchant for perfection. As it was, the miniature armies took on a charcter all their own as their respective painter(s) finished them pretty much in whatever uniform colors they felt they "should" look like, regardless of whose army they were supposed to represent.

In all fairness to the artisans of the day, and speaking as a figure painter myself, it must be remembered that all the work, from drawing the design, engraving the molds, casting, and painting, was done by hand. It still is today, but, at the time it was all done under early 19th century mass production conditions. That meant dirt floors, poor lighting, no ventilation, open-pit fires, home-made paints and brushes, hot in the summer, freezing in the winter, and no safety concerns (e.g., molten lead was poured into a handheld mold). In addition, as these craftsmen usually worked with pure lead, many suffered long-term health consequences. And all of this for meager recompense.

The monotony of this type of work can only be imagined. It is therefore little wonder that the painters - perhaps frustrated artists at heart - took some "artistic license" when painting their troops. Or, did they really have no idea how a trumpeter of the Saxon Guard Reiter Regiment or an officer of Napoleon's Grenadiers á Cheval should look? Or, it was just a matter of economics - the more you got done, the more you got paid? What is known for sure is that it did not take long for the true miniaturists of the day to remedy the situation.

These fastidious collectors simply removed the original paint and repainted the figures the right way. With a steady hand, careful shading, and highlighting, and viewed from the right angle (the side) a 19th century hobbyist could give a flat figure the illusion of being three-dimensional (if you have never done this, try it. There is no comparison between painting a flat and a "round." Everything that is taken for granted on a round, has to be created on a flat and can drive you nuts - but the results are incredible!). Not missing a trick, the alert German model soldier-makers quickly responded to this trend in consumer-refinishing of their products and started to offer unpainted castings which the hobbyist of the day could finish himself.

By the end of the 19th century, the tin soldier collector could buy flats from Germany or rounds from France, selecting his models based on cost and function (e.g., did he want a toy or a showpiece?). Regardless of the purpose, the fact remains that the French and the Germans had control of the tin soldier market, so everybody bought from them.