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diff --git a/1946.txt b/1946.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fbf12d7 --- /dev/null +++ b/1946.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11317 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of On War, by Carl von Clausewitz + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: On War + +Author: Carl von Clausewitz + +Release Date: February 25, 2006 [EBook #1946] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON WAR *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Keller and David Widger + + + + + +ON WAR + +by General Carl von Clausewitz + + + + +ON WAR GENERAL CARL VON CLAUSEWITZ TRANSLATED BY COLONEL J.J. GRAHAM + +_1874 was 1st edition of this translation. 1909 was the London +reprinting._ + + +NEW AND REVISED EDITION WITH AN INTRODUCTION AND NOTES BY COLONEL F.N. +MAUDE C.B. (LATE R.E.) + + +EIGHTH IMPRESSION IN THREE VOLUMES + +VOLUME I + + + + +INTRODUCTION + +THE Germans interpret their new national colours--black, red, and +white--by the saying, "Durch Nacht und Blut zur licht." ("Through night +and blood to light"), and no work yet written conveys to the thinker a +clearer conception of all that the red streak in their flag stands for +than this deep and philosophical analysis of "War" by Clausewitz. + +It reveals "War," stripped of all accessories, as the exercise of force +for the attainment of a political object, unrestrained by any law save +that of expediency, and thus gives the key to the interpretation +of German political aims, past, present, and future, which is +unconditionally necessary for every student of the modern conditions of +Europe. Step by step, every event since Waterloo follows with logical +consistency from the teachings of Napoleon, formulated for the first +time, some twenty years afterwards, by this remarkable thinker. + +What Darwin accomplished for Biology generally Clausewitz did for the +Life-History of Nations nearly half a century before him, for both have +proved the existence of the same law in each case, viz., "The survival +of the fittest"--the "fittest," as Huxley long since pointed out, not +being necessarily synonymous with the ethically "best." Neither of +these thinkers was concerned with the ethics of the struggle which +each studied so exhaustively, but to both men the phase or condition +presented itself neither as moral nor immoral, any more than are famine, +disease, or other natural phenomena, but as emanating from a force +inherent in all living organisms which can only be mastered by +understanding its nature. It is in that spirit that, one after the +other, all the Nations of the Continent, taught by such drastic lessons +as Koniggraetz and Sedan, have accepted the lesson, with the result +that to-day Europe is an armed camp, and peace is maintained by +the equilibrium of forces, and will continue just as long as this +equilibrium exists, and no longer. + +Whether this state of equilibrium is in itself a good or desirable thing +may be open to argument. I have discussed it at length in my "War and +the World's Life"; but I venture to suggest that to no one would a +renewal of the era of warfare be a change for the better, as far as +existing humanity is concerned. Meanwhile, however, with every year +that elapses the forces at present in equilibrium are changing in +magnitude--the pressure of populations which have to be fed is rising, +and an explosion along the line of least resistance is, sooner or later, +inevitable. + +As I read the teaching of the recent Hague Conference, no responsible +Government on the Continent is anxious to form in themselves that line +of least resistance; they know only too well what War would mean; and +we alone, absolutely unconscious of the trend of the dominant thought +of Europe, are pulling down the dam which may at any moment let in on us +the flood of invasion. + +Now no responsible man in Europe, perhaps least of all in Germany, +thanks us for this voluntary destruction of our defences, for all who +are of any importance would very much rather end their days in peace +than incur the burden of responsibility which War would entail. But +they realise that the gradual dissemination of the principles taught by +Clausewitz has created a condition of molecular tension in the minds of +the Nations they govern analogous to the "critical temperature of water +heated above boiling-point under pressure," which may at any moment +bring about an explosion which they will be powerless to control. + +The case is identical with that of an ordinary steam boiler, delivering +so and so many pounds of steam to its engines as long as the +envelope can contain the pressure; but let a breach in its continuity +arise--relieving the boiling water of all restraint--and in a moment the +whole mass flashes into vapour, developing a power no work of man can +oppose. + +The ultimate consequences of defeat no man can foretell. The only way to +avert them is to ensure victory; and, again following out the principles +of Clausewitz, victory can only be ensured by the creation in peace of +an organisation which will bring every available man, horse, and gun (or +ship and gun, if the war be on the sea) in the shortest possible time, +and with the utmost possible momentum, upon the decisive field of +action--which in turn leads to the final doctrine formulated by Von der +Goltz in excuse for the action of the late President Kruger in 1899: + +"The Statesman who, knowing his instrument to be ready, and seeing War +inevitable, hesitates to strike first is guilty of a crime against his +country." + +It is because this sequence of cause and effect is absolutely unknown to +our Members of Parliament, elected by popular representation, that +all our efforts to ensure a lasting peace by securing efficiency with +economy in our National Defences have been rendered nugatory. + +This estimate of the influence of Clausewitz's sentiments on +contemporary thought in Continental Europe may appear exaggerated to +those who have not familiarised themselves with M. Gustav de Bon's +exposition of the laws governing the formation and conduct of crowds I +do not wish for one minute to be understood as asserting that Clausewitz +has been conscientiously studied and understood in any Army, not even +in the Prussian, but his work has been the ultimate foundation on which +every drill regulation in Europe, except our own, has been reared. It is +this ceaseless repetition of his fundamental ideas to which one-half of +the male population of every Continental Nation has been subjected +for two to three years of their lives, which has tuned their minds to +vibrate in harmony with his precepts, and those who know and appreciate +this fact at its true value have only to strike the necessary chords +in order to evoke a response sufficient to overpower any other ethical +conception which those who have not organised their forces beforehand +can appeal to. + +The recent set-back experienced by the Socialists in Germany is an +illustration of my position. The Socialist leaders of that country +are far behind the responsible Governors in their knowledge of the +management of crowds. The latter had long before (in 1893, in fact) +made their arrangements to prevent the spread of Socialistic propaganda +beyond certain useful limits. As long as the Socialists only threatened +capital they were not seriously interfered with, for the Government +knew quite well that the undisputed sway of the employer was not for the +ultimate good of the State. The standard of comfort must not be pitched +too low if men are to be ready to die for their country. But the moment +the Socialists began to interfere seriously with the discipline of the +Army the word went round, and the Socialists lost heavily at the polls. + +If this power of predetermined reaction to acquired ideas can be +evoked successfully in a matter of internal interest only, in which the +"obvious interest" of the vast majority of the population is so clearly +on the side of the Socialist, it must be evident how enormously greater +it will prove when set in motion against an external enemy, where the +"obvious interest" of the people is, from the very nature of things, as +manifestly on the side of the Government; and the Statesman who failed +to take into account the force of the "resultant thought wave" of a +crowd of some seven million men, all trained to respond to their ruler's +call, would be guilty of treachery as grave as one who failed to strike +when he knew the Army to be ready for immediate action. + +As already pointed out, it is to the spread of Clausewitz's ideas that +the present state of more or less immediate readiness for war of all +European Armies is due, and since the organisation of these forces is +uniform this "more or less" of readiness exists in precise proportion to +the sense of duty which animates the several Armies. Where the spirit of +duty and self-sacrifice is low the troops are unready and inefficient; +where, as in Prussia, these qualities, by the training of a whole +century, have become instinctive, troops really are ready to the last +button, and might be poured down upon any one of her neighbours with +such rapidity that the very first collision must suffice to ensure +ultimate success--a success by no means certain if the enemy, whoever he +may be, is allowed breathing-time in which to set his house in order. + +An example will make this clearer. In 1887 Germany was on the very verge +of War with France and Russia. At that moment her superior efficiency, +the consequence of this inborn sense of duty--surely one of the highest +qualities of humanity--was so great that it is more than probable that +less than six weeks would have sufficed to bring the French to their +knees. Indeed, after the first fortnight it would have been possible +to begin transferring troops from the Rhine to the Niemen; and the same +case may arise again. But if France and Russia had been allowed even +ten days' warning the German plan would have been completely defeated. +France alone might then have claimed all the efforts that Germany could +have put forth to defeat her. + +Yet there are politicians in England so grossly ignorant of the German +reading of the Napoleonic lessons that they expect that Nation to +sacrifice the enormous advantage they have prepared by a whole century +of self-sacrifice and practical patriotism by an appeal to a Court of +Arbitration, and the further delays which must arise by going through +the medieaeval formalities of recalling Ambassadors and exchanging +ultimatums. + +Most of our present-day politicians have made their money in business--a +"form of human competition greatly resembling War," to paraphrase +Clausewitz. Did they, when in the throes of such competition, send +formal notice to their rivals of their plans to get the better of them +in commerce? Did Mr. Carnegie, the arch-priest of Peace at any price, +when he built up the Steel Trust, notify his competitors when and how +he proposed to strike the blows which successively made him master +of millions? Surely the Directors of a Great Nation may consider the +interests of their shareholders--i.e., the people they govern--as +sufficiently serious not to be endangered by the deliberate sacrifice +of the preponderant position of readiness which generations of +self-devotion, patriotism and wise forethought have won for them? + +As regards the strictly military side of this work, though the recent +researches of the French General Staff into the records and documents of +the Napoleonic period have shown conclusively that Clausewitz had never +grasped the essential point of the Great Emperor's strategic method, +yet it is admitted that he has completely fathomed the spirit which gave +life to the form; and notwithstandingthe variations in application which +have resulted from the progress of invention in every field of national +activity (not in the technical improvements in armament alone), this +spirit still remains the essential factor in the whole matter. Indeed, +if anything, modern appliances have intensified its importance, for +though, with equal armaments on both sides, the form of battles must +always remain the same, the facility and certainty of combination which +better methods of communicating orders and intelligence have +conferred upon the Commanders has rendered the control of great masses +immeasurably more certain than it was in the past. + +Men kill each other at greater distances, it is true--but killing is a +constant factor in all battles. The difference between "now and then" +lies in this, that, thanks to the enormous increase in range (the +essential feature in modern armaments), it is possible to concentrate +by surprise, on any chosen spot, a man-killing power fully twentyfold +greater than was conceivable in the days of Waterloo; and whereas in +Napoleon's time this concentration of man-killing power (which in his +hands took the form of the great case-shot attack) depended almost +entirely on the shape and condition of the ground, which might or might +not be favourable, nowadays such concentration of fire-power is almost +independent of the country altogether. + +Thus, at Waterloo, Napoleon was compelled to wait till the ground became +firm enough for his guns to gallop over; nowadays every gun at his +disposal, and five times that number had he possessed them, might have +opened on any point in the British position he had selected, as soon as +it became light enough to see. + +Or, to take a more modern instance, viz., the battle of St. +Privat-Gravelotte, August 18, 1870, where the Germans were able to +concentrate on both wings batteries of two hundred guns and upwards, +it would have been practically impossible, owing to the section of the +slopes of the French position, to carry out the old-fashioned case-shot +attack at all. Nowadays there would be no difficulty in turning on the +fire of two thousand guns on any point of the position, and switching +this fire up and down the line like water from a fire-engine hose, if +the occasion demanded such concentration. + +But these alterations in method make no difference in the truth of the +picture of War which Clausewitz presents, with which every soldier, and +above all every Leader, should be saturated. + +Death, wounds, suffering, and privation remain the same, whatever the +weapons employed, and their reaction on the ultimate nature of man is +the same now as in the struggle a century ago. It is this reaction that +the Great Commander has to understand and prepare himself to control; +and the task becomes ever greater as, fortunately for humanity, the +opportunities for gathering experience become more rare. + +In the end, and with every improvement in science, the result depends +more and more on the character of the Leader and his power of resisting +"the sensuous impressions of the battlefield." Finally, for those who +would fit themselves in advance for such responsibility, I know of no +more inspiring advice than that given by Krishna to Arjuna ages ago, +when the latter trembled before the awful responsibility of launching +his Army against the hosts of the Pandav's: + + This Life within all living things, my Prince, + Hides beyond harm. Scorn thou to suffer, then, + For that which cannot suffer. Do thy part! + Be mindful of thy name, and tremble not. + Nought better can betide a martial soul + Than lawful war. Happy the warrior + To whom comes joy of battle.... + . . . But if thou shunn'st + This honourable field--a Kshittriya-- + If, knowing thy duty and thy task, thou bidd'st + Duty and task go by--that shall be sin! + And those to come shall speak thee infamy + From age to age. But infamy is worse + For men of noble blood to bear than death! + . . . . . . + Therefore arise, thou Son of Kunti! Brace + Thine arm for conflict; nerve thy heart to meet, + As things alike to thee, pleasure or pain, + Profit or ruin, victory or defeat. + So minded, gird thee to the fight, for so + Thou shalt not sin! + +COL. F. N. MAUDE, C.B., late R.E. + + + +CONTENTS + + BOOK I ON THE NATURE OF WAR + + I WHAT IS WAR? page 1 + II END AND MEANS IN WAR 27 + III THE GENIUS FOR WAR 46 + IV OF DANGER IN WAR 71 + V OF BODILY EXERTION IN WAR 73 + VI INFORMATION IN WAR 75 + VII FRICTION IN WAR 77 + VIII CONCLUDING REMARKS 81 + + BOOK II ON THE THEORY OF WAR + I BRANCHES OF THE ART OF WAR 84 + II ON THE THEORY OF WAR 95 + III ART OR SCIENCE OF WAR 119 + IV METHODICISM 122V CRITICISM 130 + VI ON EXAMPLES 156 + + BOOK III OF STRATEGY IN GENERAL + I STRATEGY 165 + II ELEMENTS OF STRATEGY 175 + III MORAL FORCES 177 + IV THE CHIEF MORAL POWERS 179 + V MILITARY VIRTUE OF AN ARMY 180 + VI BOLDNESS 186 + VII PERSEVERANCE 191 + VIII SUPERIORITY OF NUMBERS 192 + IX THE SURPRISE 199 + X STRATAGEM 205 + XI ASSEMBLY OF FORCES IN SPACE 207 + XII ASSEMBLY OF FORCES IN TIME 208 + XIII STRATEGIC RESERVE 217 + XIV ECONOMY OF FORCES 221 + XV GEOMETRICAL ELEMENT 222 + XVI ON THE SUSPENSION OF THE ACT IN WAR page 224 + XVII ON THE CHARACTER OF MODERN WAR 230 + XVIII TENSION AND REST 231 + + BOOK IV THE COMBAT + I INTRODUCTORY 235 + II CHARACTER OF THE MODERN BATTLE 236 + III THE COMBAT IN GENERAL 238 + IV THE COMBAT IN GENERAL (continuation) 243 + V ON THE SIGNIFICATION OF THE COMBAT 253 + VI DURATION OF THE COMBAT 256 + VII DECISION OF THE COMBAT 257 + VIII MUTUAL UNDERSTANDING AS TO A BATTLE 266 + IX THE BATTLE 270 + X EFFECTS OF VICTORY 277 + XI THE USE OF THE BATTLE 284 + XII STRATEGIC MEANS OF UTILISING VICTORY 292 + XIII RETREAT AFTER A LOST BATTLE 305 + XIV NIGHT FIGHTING 308 + + + + +PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION + +IT will naturally excite surprise that a preface by a female hand should +accompany a work on such a subject as the present. For my friends no +explanation of the circumstance is required; but I hope by a simple +relation of the cause to clear myself of the appearance of presumption +in the eyes also of those to whom I am not known. + +The work to which these lines serve as a preface occupied almost +entirely the last twelve years of the life of my inexpressibly beloved +husband, who has unfortunately been torn too soon from myself and his +country. To complete it was his most earnest desire; but it was not his +intention that it should be published during his life; and if I tried to +persuade him to alter that intention, he often answered, half in jest, +but also, perhaps, half in a foreboding of early death: "Thou shalt +publish it." These words (which in those happy days often drew tears +from me, little as I was inclined to attach a serious meaning to them) +make it now, in the opinion of my friends, a duty incumbent on me +to introduce the posthumous works of my beloved husband, with a few +prefatory lines from myself; and although here may be a difference of +opinion on this point, still I am sure there will be no mistake as to +the feeling which has prompted me to overcome the timidity which makes +any such appearance, even in a subordinate part, so difficult for a +woman. + +It will be understood, as a matter of course, that I cannot have the +most remote intention of considering myself as the real editress of a +work which is far above the scope of my capacity: I only stand at its +side as an affectionate companion on its entrance into the world. This +position I may well claim, as a similar one was allowed me during its +formation and progress. Those who are acquainted with our happy married +life, and know how we shared everything with each other--not only +joy and sorrow, but also every occupation, every interest of daily +life--will understand that my beloved husband could not be occupied on +a work of this kind without its being known to me. Therefore, no one can +like me bear testimony to the zeal, to the love with which he laboured +on it, to the hopes which he bound up with it, as well as the manner and +time of its elaboration. His richly gifted mind had from his early youth +longed for light and truth, and, varied as were his talents, still he +had chiefly directed his reflections to the science of war, to which the +duties of his profession called him, and which are of such importance +for the benefit of States. Scharnhorst was the first to lead him into +the right road, and his subsequent appointment in 1810 as Instructor at +the General War School, as well as the honour conferred on him at the +same time of giving military instruction to H.R.H. the Crown Prince, +tended further to give his investigations and studies that direction, +and to lead him to put down in writing whatever conclusions he arrived +at. A paper with which he finished the instruction of H.R.H. the Crown +Prince contains the germ of his subsequent works. But it was in the year +1816, at Coblentz, that he first devoted himself again to scientific +labours, and to collecting the fruits which his rich experience in those +four eventful years had brought to maturity. He wrote down his views, +in the first place, in short essays, only loosely connected with each +other. The following, without date, which has been found amongst his +papers, seems to belong to those early days. + +"In the principles here committed to paper, in my opinion, the chief +things which compose Strategy, as it is called, are touched upon. I +looked upon them only as materials, and had just got to such a length +towards the moulding them into a whole. + +"These materials have been amassed without any regularly preconceived +plan. My view was at first, without regard to system and strict +connection, to put down the results of my reflections upon the most +important points in quite brief, precise, compact propositions. The +manner in which Montesquieu has treated his subject floated before me in +idea. I thought that concise, sententious chapters, which I proposed +at first to call grains, would attract the attention of the intelligent +just as much by that which was to be developed from them, as by that +which they contained in themselves. I had, therefore, before me in idea, +intelligent readers already acquainted with the subject. But my nature, +which always impels me to development and systematising, at last worked +its way out also in this instance. For some time I was able to confine +myself to extracting only the most important results from the essays, +which, to attain clearness and conviction in my own mind, I wrote upon +different subjects, to concentrating in that manner their spirit in +a small compass; but afterwards my peculiarity gained ascendency +completely--I have developed what I could, and thus naturally have +supposed a reader not yet acquainted with the subject. + +"The more I advanced with the work, and the more I yielded to the spirit +of investigation, so much the more I was also led to system; and thus, +then, chapter after chapter has been inserted. + +"My ultimate view has now been to go through the whole once more, to +establish by further explanation much of the earlier treatises, and +perhaps to condense into results many analyses on the later ones, and +thus to make a moderate whole out of it, forming a small octavo volume. +But it was my wish also in this to avoid everything common, everything +that is plain of itself, that has been said a hundred times, and is +generally accepted; for my ambition was to write a book that would not +be forgotten in two or three years, and which any one interested in the +subject would at all events take up more than once." + +In Coblentz, where he was much occupied with duty, he could only give +occasional hours to his private studies. It was not until 1818, after +his appointment as Director of the General Academy of War at Berlin, +that he had the leisure to expand his work, and enrich it from the +history of modern wars. This leisure also reconciled him to his new +avocation, which, in other respects, was not satisfactory to him, as, +according to the existing organisation of the Academy, the scientific +part of the course is not under the Director, but conducted by a Board +of Studies. Free as he was from all petty vanity, from every feeling +of restless, egotistical ambition, still he felt a desire to be really +useful, and not to leave inactive the abilities with which God had +endowed him. In active life he was not in a position in which this +longing could be satisfied, and he had little hope of attaining to +any such position: his whole energies were therefore directed upon the +domain of science, and the benefit which he hoped to lay the foundation +of by his work was the object of his life. That, notwithstanding this, +the resolution not to let the work appear until after his death became +more confirmed is the best proof that no vain, paltry longing for praise +and distinction, no particle of egotistical views, was mixed up with +this noble aspiration for great and lasting usefulness. + +Thus he worked diligently on, until, in the spring of 1830, he was +appointed to the artillery, and his energies were called into activity +in such a different sphere, and to such a high degree, that he was +obliged, for the moment at least, to give up all literary work. He then +put his papers in order, sealed up the separate packets, labelled them, +and took sorrowful leave of this employment which he loved so much. He +was sent to Breslau in August of the same year, as Chief of the Second +Artillery District, but in December recalled to Berlin, and appointed +Chief of the Staff to Field-Marshal Count Gneisenau (for the term of his +command). In March 1831, he accompanied his revered Commander to Posen. +When he returned from there to Breslau in November after the melancholy +event which had taken place, he hoped to resume his work and perhaps +complete it in the course of the winter. The Almighty has willed it +should be otherwise. On the 7th November he returned to Breslau; on the +16th he was no more; and the packets sealed by himself were not opened +until after his death. + +The papers thus left are those now made public in the following volumes, +exactly in the condition in which they were found, without a word +being added or erased. Still, however, there was much to do before +publication, in the way of putting them in order and consulting about +them; and I am deeply indebted to several sincere friends for the +assistance they have afforded me, particularly Major O'Etzel, who kindly +undertook the correction of the Press, as well as the preparation of the +maps to accompany the historical parts of the work. I must also mention +my much-loved brother, who was my support in the hour of my misfortune, +and who has also done much for me in respect of these papers; amongst +other things, by carefully examining and putting them in order, he found +the commencement of the revision which my dear husband wrote in the year +1827, and mentions in the Notice hereafter annexed as a work he had in +view. This revision has been inserted in the place intended for it in +the first book (for it does not go any further). + +There are still many other friends to whom I might offer my thanks for +their advice, for the sympathy and friendship which they have shown me; +but if I do not name them all, they will, I am sure, not have any doubts +of my sincere gratitude. It is all the greater, from my firm conviction +that all they have done was not only on my own account, but for the +friend whom God has thus called away from them so soon. + +If I have been highly blessed as the wife of such a man during one and +twenty years, so am I still, notwithstanding my irreparable loss, by +the treasure of my recollections and of my hopes, by the rich legacy +of sympathy and friendship which I owe the beloved departed, by the +elevating feeling which I experience at seeing his rare worth so +generally and honourably acknowledged. + +The trust confided to me by a Royal Couple is a fresh benefit for +which I have to thank the Almighty, as it opens to me an honourable +occupation, to which Idevote myself. May this occupation be blessed, +and may the dear little Prince who is now entrusted to my care, some +day read this book, and be animated by it to deeds like those of his +glorious ancestors. + + +Written at the Marble Palace, Potsdam, 30th June, 1832. + +MARIE VON CLAUSEWITZ, Born Countess Bruhl, Oberhofmeisterinn to H.R.H. +the Princess William. + + + + +NOTICE + +I LOOK upon the first six books, of which a fair copy has now been made, +as only a mass which is still in a manner without form, and which has +yet to be again revised. In this revision the two kinds of War will be +everywhere kept more distinctly in view, by which all ideas will acquire +a clearer meaning, a more precise direction, and a closer application. +The two kinds of War are, first, those in which the object is the +OVERTHROW OF THE ENEMY, whether it be that we aim at his destruction, +politically, or merely at disarming him and forcing him to conclude +peace on our terms; and next, those in which our object is MERELY TO +MAKE SOME CONQUESTS ON THE FRONTIERS OF HIS COUNTRY, either for the +purpose of retaining them permanently, or of turning them to account +as matter of exchange in the settlement of a peace. Transition from one +kind to the other must certainly continue to exist, but the completely +different nature of the tendencies of the two must everywhere appear, +and must separate from each other things which are incompatible. + +Besides establishing this real difference in Wars, another practically +necessary point of view must at the same time be established, which is, +that WAR IS ONLY A CONTINUATION OF STATE POLICY BY OTHER MEANS. This +point of view being adhered to everywhere, will introduce much more +unity into the consideration of the subject, and things will be more +easily disentangled from each other. Although the chief application of +this point of view does not commence until we get to the eighth book, +still it must be completely developed in the first book, and also lend +assistance throughout the revision of the first six books. Through such +a revision the first six books will get rid of a good deal of dross, +many rents and chasms will be closed up, and much that is of a general +nature will be transformed into distinct conceptions and forms. + +The seventh book--on attack--for the different chapters of which +sketches are already made, is to be considered as a reflection of the +sixth, and must be completed at once, according to the above-mentioned +more distinct points of view, so that it will require no fresh revision, +but rather may serve as a model in the revision of the first six books. + +For the eighth book--on the Plan of a War, that is, of the organisation +of a whole War in general--several chapters are designed, but they are +not at all to be regarded as real materials, they are merely a track, +roughly cleared, as it were, through the mass, in order by that means to +ascertain the points of most importance. They have answered this object, +and I propose, on finishing the seventh book, to proceed at once to the +working out of the eighth, where the two points of view above mentioned +will be chiefly affirmed, by which everything will be simplified, and +at the same time have a spirit breathed into it. I hope in this book to +iron out many creases in the heads of strategists and statesmen, and at +least to show the object of action, and the real point to be considered +in War. + +Now, when I have brought my ideas clearly out by finishing this eighth +book, and have properly established the leading features of War, it will +be easier for me to carry the spirit of these ideas in to the first +six books, and to make these same features show themselves everywhere. +Therefore I shall defer till then the revision of the first six books. + +Should the work be interrupted by my death, then what is found can only +be called a mass of conceptions not brought into form; but as these +are open to endless misconceptions, they will doubtless give rise to a +number of crude criticisms: for in these things, every one thinks, when +he takes up his pen, that whatever comes into his head is worth saying +and printing, and quite as incontrovertible as that twice two make four. +If such a one would take the pains, as I have done, to think over the +subject, for years, and to compare his ideas with military history, he +would certainly be a little more guarded in his criticism. + +Still, notwithstanding this imperfect form, I believe that an impartial +reader thirsting for truth and conviction will rightly appreciate in the +first six books the fruits of several years' reflection and a diligent +study of War, and that, perhaps, he will find in them some leading ideas +which may bring about a revolution in the theory of War. + +Berlin, 10th July, 1827. + + +Besides this notice, amongst the papers left the following unfinished +memorandum was found, which appears of very recent date: + +The manuscript on the conduct of the Grande Guerre, which will be +found after my death, in its present state can only be regarded as a +collection of materials from which it is intended to construct a theory +of War. With the greater part I am not yet satisfied; and the sixth book +is to be looked at as a mere essay: I should have completely remodelled +it, and have tried a different line. + +But the ruling principles which pervade these materials I hold to be +the right ones: they are the result of a very varied reflection, keeping +always in view the reality, and always bearing in mind what I have +learnt by experience and by my intercourse with distinguished soldiers. + +The seventh book is to contain the attack, the subjects of which are +thrown together in a hasty manner: the eighth, the plan for a War, in +which I would have examined War more especially in its political and +human aspects. + +The first chapter of the first book is the only one which I consider as +completed; it will at least serve to show the manner in which I proposed +to treat the subject throughout. + +The theory of the Grande Guerre, or Strategy, as it is called, is beset +with extraordinary difficulties, and we may affirm that very few men +have clear conceptions of the separate subjects, that is, conceptions +carried up to their full logical conclusions. In real action most men +are guided merely by the tact of judgment which hits the object more or +less accurately, according as they possess more or less genius. + +This is the way in which all great Generals have acted, and therein +partly lay their greatness and their genius, that they always hit upon +what was right by this tact. Thus also it will always be in action, and +so far this tact is amply sufficient. But when it is a question, not +of acting oneself, but of convincing others in a consultation, then +all depends on clear conceptions and demonstration of the inherent +relations, and so little progress has been made in this respect that +most deliberations are merely a contention of words, resting on no firm +basis, and ending either in every one retaining his own opinion, or in a +compromise from mutual considerations of respect, a middle course really +without any value.(*) + + (*) Herr Clausewitz evidently had before his mind the + endless consultations at the Headquarters of the Bohemian + Army in the Leipsic Campaign 1813. + +Clear ideas on these matters are therefore not wholly useless; besides, +the human mind has a general tendency to clearness, and always wants to +be consistent with the necessary order of things. + +Owing to the great difficulties attending a philosophical construction +of the Art of War, and the many attempts at it that have failed, most +people have come to the conclusion that such a theory is impossible, +because it concerns things which no standing law can embrace. We should +also join in this opinion and give up any attempt at a theory, were it +not that a great number of propositions make themselves evident without +any difficulty, as, for instance, that the defensive form, with a +negative object, is the stronger form, the attack, with the positive +object, the weaker--that great results carry the little ones with +them--that, therefore, strategic effects may be referred to certain +centres of gravity--that a demonstration is a weaker application of +force than a real attack, that, therefore, there must be some special +reason for resorting to the former--that victory consists not merely +in the conquest on the field of battle, but in the destruction of armed +forces, physically and morally, which can in general only be effected by +a pursuit after the battle is gained--that successes are always greatest +at the point where the victory has been gained, that, therefore, the +change from one line and object to another can only be regarded as +a necessary evil--that a turning movement is only justified by a +superiority of numbers generally or by the advantage of our lines of +communication and retreat over those of the enemy--that flank positions +are only justifiable on similar grounds--that every attack becomes +weaker as it progresses. + + + + +THE INTRODUCTION OF THE AUTHOR + +THAT the conception of the scientific does not consist alone, or +chiefly, in system, and its finished theoretical constructions, requires +nowadays no exposition. System in this treatise is not to be found on +the surface, and instead of a finished building of theory, there are +only materials. + +The scientific form lies here in the endeavour to explore the nature of +military phenomena to show their affinity with the nature of the things +of which they are composed. Nowhere has the philosophical argument been +evaded, but where it runs out into too thin a thread the Author has +preferred to cut it short, and fall back upon the corresponding results +of experience; for in the same way as many plants only bear fruit when +they do not shoot too high, so in the practical arts the theoretical +leaves and flowers must not be made to sprout too far, but kept near to +experience, which is their proper soil. + +Unquestionably it would be a mistake to try to discover from the +chemical ingredients of a grain of corn the form of the ear of corn +which it bears, as we have only to go to the field to see the ears ripe. +Investigation and observation, philosophy and experience, must neither +despise nor exclude one another; they mutually afford each other the +rights of citizenship. Consequently, the propositions of this book, with +their arch of inherent necessity, are supported either by experience or +by the conception of War itself as external points, so that they are not +without abutments.(*) + + (*) That this is not the case in the works of many military + writers especially of those who have aimed at treating of + War itself in a scientific manner, is shown in many + instances, in which by their reasoning, the pro and contra + swallow each other up so effectually that there is no + vestige of the tails even which were left in the case of the + two lions. + +It is, perhaps, not impossible to write a systematic theory of War full +of spirit and substance, but ours hitherto, have been very much the +reverse. To say nothing of their unscientific spirit, in their +striving after coherence and completeness of system, they overflow with +commonplaces, truisms, and twaddle of every kind. If we want a striking +picture of them we have only to read Lichtenberg's extract from a code +of regulations in case of fire. + +If a house takes fire, we must seek, above all things, to protect the +right side of the house standing on the left, and, on the other hand, +the left side of the house on the right; for if we, for example, should +protect the left side of the house on the left, then the right side of +the house lies to the right of the left, and consequently as the fire +lies to the right of this side, and of the right side (for we have +assumed that the house is situated to the left of the fire), therefore +the right side is situated nearer to the fire than the left, and the +right side of the house might catch fire if it was not protected before +it came to the left, which is protected. Consequently, something might +be burnt that is not protected, and that sooner than something else +would be burnt, even if it was not protected; consequently we must let +alone the latter and protect the former. In order to impress the thing +on one's mind, we have only to note if the house is situated to the +right of the fire, then it is the left side, and if the house is to the +left it is the right side. + +In order not to frighten the intelligent reader by such commonplaces, +and to make the little good that there is distasteful by pouring water +upon it, the Author has preferred to give in small ingots of fine metal +his impressions and convictions, the result of many years' reflection +on War, of his intercourse with men of ability, and of much personal +experience. Thus the seemingly weakly bound-together chapters of this +book have arisen, but it is hoped they will not be found wanting in +logical connection. Perhaps soon a greater head may appear, and instead +of these single grains, give the whole in a casting of pure metal +without dross. + + + + +BRIEF MEMOIR OF GENERAL CLAUSEWITZ + +(BY TRANSLATOR) + +THE Author of the work here translated, General Carl Von Clausewitz, was +born at Burg, near Magdeburg, in 1780, and entered the Prussian Army +as Fahnenjunker (i.e., ensign) in 1792. He served in the campaigns of +1793-94 on the Rhine, after which he seems to have devoted some time +to the study of the scientific branches of his profession. In 1801 he +entered the Military School at Berlin, and remained there till +1803. During his residence there he attracted the notice of General +Scharnhorst, then at the head of the establishment; and the patronage of +this distinguished officer had immense influence on his future career, +and we may gather from his writings that he ever afterwards continued +to entertain a high esteem for Scharnhorst. In the campaign of 1806 he +served as Aide-de-camp to Prince Augustus of Prussia; and being wounded +and taken prisoner, he was sent into France until the close of that +war. On his return, he was placed on General Scharnhorst's Staff, and +employed in the work then going on for the reorganisation of the Army. +He was also at this time selected as military instructor to the late +King of Prussia, then Crown Prince. In 1812 Clausewitz, with several +other Prussian officers, having entered the Russian service, his first +appointment was as Aide-de-camp to General Phul. Afterwards, while +serving with Wittgenstein's army, he assisted in negotiating the famous +convention of Tauroggen with York. Of the part he took in that affair he +has left an interesting account in his work on the "Russian Campaign." +It is there stated that, in order to bring the correspondence which had +been carried on with York to a termination in one way or another, the +Author was despatched to York's headquarters with two letters, one was +from General d'Auvray, the Chief of the Staff of Wittgenstein's army, to +General Diebitsch, showing the arrangements made to cut off York's corps +from Macdonald (this was necessary in order to give York a plausible +excuse for seceding from the French); the other was an intercepted +letter from Macdonald to the Duke of Bassano. With regard to the former +of these, the Author says, "it would not have had weight with a man like +York, but for a military justification, if the Prussian Court should +require one as against the French, it was important." + +The second letter was calculated at the least to call up in General +York's mind all the feelings of bitterness which perhaps for some days +past had been diminished by the consciousness of his own behaviour +towards the writer. + +As the Author entered General York's chamber, the latter called out to +him, "Keep off from me; I will have nothing more to do with you; your +d----d Cossacks have let a letter of Macdonald's pass through them, +which brings me an order to march on Piktrepohnen, in order there to +effect our junction. All doubt is now at an end; your troops do not +come up; you are too weak; march I must, and I must excuse myself from +further negotiation, which may cost me my head." The Author said that be +would make no opposition to all this, but begged for a candle, as he +had letters to show the General, and, as the latter seemed still to +hesitate, the Author added, "Your Excellency will not surely place me in +the embarrassment of departing without having executed my commission." +The General ordered candles, and called in Colonel von Roeder, the chief +of his staff, from the ante-chamber. The letters were read. After a +pause of an instant, the General said, "Clausewitz, you are a Prussian, +do you believe that the letter of General d'Auvray is sincere, and that +Wittgenstein's troops will really be at the points he mentioned on the +31st?" The Author replied, "I pledge myself for the sincerity of this +letter upon the knowledge I have of General d'Auvray and the other men +of Wittgenstein's headquarters; whether the dispositions he announces +can be accomplished as he lays down I certainly cannot pledge myself; +for your Excellency knows that in war we must often fall short of the +line we have drawn for ourselves." The General was silent for a few +minutes of earnest reflection; then he held out his hand to the Author, +and said, "You have me. Tell General Diebitsch that we must confer early +to-morrow at the mill of Poschenen, and that I am now firmly determined +to separate myself from the French and their cause." The hour was fixed +for 8 A.M. After this was settled, the General added, "But I will not +do the thing by halves, I will get you Massenbach also." He called in +an officer who was of Massenbach's cavalry, and who had just left them. +Much like Schiller's Wallenstein, he asked, walking up and down the +room the while, "What say your regiments?" The officer broke out with +enthusiasm at the idea of a riddance from the French alliance, and said +that every man of the troops in question felt the same. + +"You young ones may talk; but my older head is shaking on my shoulders," +replied the General.(*) + + (*) "Campaign in Russia in 1812"; translated from the German + of General Von Clausewitz (by Lord Ellesmere). + +After the close of the Russian campaign Clausewitz remained in the +service of that country, but was attached as a Russian staff officer to +Blucher's headquarters till the Armistice in 1813. + +In 1814, he became Chief of the Staff of General Walmoden's Russo-German +Corps, which formed part of the Army of the North under Bernadotte. +His name is frequently mentioned with distinction in that campaign, +particularly in connection with the affair of Goehrde. + +Clausewitz re-entered the Prussian service in 1815, and served as Chief +of the Staff to Thielman's corps, which was engaged with Grouchy at +Wavre, on the 18th of June. + +After the Peace, he was employed in a command on the Rhine. In 1818, he +became Major-General, and Director of the Military School at which he +had been previously educated. + +In 1830, he was appointed Inspector of Artillery at Breslau, but soon +after nominated Chief of the Staff to the Army of Observation, under +Marshal Gneisenau on the Polish frontier. + +The latest notices of his life and services are probably to be found +in the memoirs of General Brandt, who, from being on the staff of +Gneisenau's army, was brought into daily intercourse with Clausewitz +in matters of duty, and also frequently met him at the table of Marshal +Gneisenau, at Posen. + +Amongst other anecdotes, General Brandt relates that, upon one occasion, +the conversation at the Marshal's table turned upon a sermon preached +by a priest, in which some great absurdities were introduced, and a +discussion arose as to whether the Bishop should not be made responsible +for what the priest had said. This led to the topic of theology in +general, when General Brandt, speaking of himself, says, "I expressed an +opinion that theology is only to be regarded as an historical process, +as a MOMENT in the gradual development of the human race. This +brought upon me an attack from all quarters, but more especially +from Clausewitz, who ought to have been on my side, he having been an +adherent and pupil of Kiesewetter's, who had indoctrinated him in the +philosophy of Kant, certainly diluted--I might even say in homoeopathic +doses." This anecdote is only interesting as the mention of Kiesewetter +points to a circumstance in the life of Clausewitz that may have had +an influence in forming those habits of thought which distinguish his +writings. + +"The way," says General Brandt, "in which General Clausewitz judged +of things, drew conclusions from movements and marches, calculated the +times of the marches, and the points where decisions would take +place, was extremely interesting. Fate has unfortunately denied him an +opportunity of showing his talents in high command, but I have a firm +persuasion that as a strategist he would have greatly distinguished +himself. As a leader on the field of battle, on the other hand, he would +not have been so much in his right place, from a manque d'habitude du +commandement, he wanted the art d'enlever les troupes." + +After the Prussian Army of Observation was dissolved, Clausewitz +returned to Breslau, and a few days after his arrival was seized with +cholera, the seeds of which he must have brought with him from the army +on the Polish frontier. His death took place in November 1831. + +His writings are contained in nine volumes, published after his death, +but his fame rests most upon the three volumes forming his treatise on +"War." In the present attempt to render into English this portion of the +works of Clausewitz, the translator is sensible of many deficiencies, +but he hopes at all events to succeed in making this celebrated treatise +better known in England, believing, as he does, that so far as the +work concerns the interests of this country, it has lost none of the +importance it possessed at the time of its first publication. + +J. J. GRAHAM (Col.) + + + + +BOOK I. ON THE NATURE OF WAR + +CHAPTER I. WHAT IS WAR? + +1. INTRODUCTION. + +WE propose to consider first the single elements of our subject, +then each branch or part, and, last of all, the whole, in all its +relations--therefore to advance from the simple to the complex. But +it is necessary for us to commence with a glance at the nature of the +whole, because it is particularly necessary that in the consideration of +any of the parts their relation to the whole should be kept constantly +in view. + +2. DEFINITION. + +We shall not enter into any of the abstruse definitions of War used by +publicists. We shall keep to the element of the thing itself, to a duel. +War is nothing but a duel on an extensive scale. If we would conceive as +a unit the countless number of duels which make up a War, we shall do so +best by supposing to ourselves two wrestlers. Each strives by physical +force to compel the other to submit to his will: each endeavours +to throw his adversary, and thus render him incapable of further +resistance. + +WAR THEREFORE IS AN ACT OF VIOLENCE INTENDED TO COMPEL OUR OPPONENT TO +FULFIL OUR WILL. + +Violence arms itself with the inventions of Art and Science in order +to contend against violence. Self-imposed restrictions, almost +imperceptible and hardly worth mentioning, termed usages of +International Law, accompany it without essentially impairing its power. +Violence, that is to say, physical force (for there is no moral force +without the conception of States and Law), is therefore the MEANS; the +compulsory submission of the enemy to our will is the ultimate object. +In order to attain this object fully, the enemy must be disarmed, and +disarmament becomes therefore the immediate OBJECT of hostilities in +theory. It takes the place of the final object, and puts it aside as +something we can eliminate from our calculations. + +3. UTMOST USE OF FORCE. + +Now, philanthropists may easily imagine there is a skilful method of +disarming and overcoming an enemy without great bloodshed, and that this +is the proper tendency of the Art of War. However plausible this may +appear, still it is an error which must be extirpated; for in such +dangerous things as War, the errors which proceed from a spirit of +benevolence are the worst. As the use of physical power to the utmost +extent by no means excludes the co-operation of the intelligence, it +follows that he who uses force unsparingly, without reference to the +bloodshed involved, must obtain a superiority if his adversary uses +less vigour in its application. The former then dictates the law to the +latter, and both proceed to extremities to which the only limitations +are those imposed by the amount of counter-acting force on each side. + +This is the way in which the matter must be viewed and it is to no +purpose, it is even against one's own interest, to turn away from the +consideration of the real nature of the affair because the horror of its +elements excites repugnance. + +If the Wars of civilised people are less cruel and destructive than +those of savages, the difference arises from the social condition both +of States in themselves and in their relations to each other. Out of +this social condition and its relations War arises, and by it War is +subjected to conditions, is controlled and modified. But these things +do not belong to War itself; they are only given conditions; and to +introduce into the philosophy of War itself a principle of moderation +would be an absurdity. + +Two motives lead men to War: instinctive hostility and hostile +intention. In our definition of War, we have chosen as its +characteristic the latter of these elements, because it is the most +general. It is impossible to conceive the passion of hatred of the +wildest description, bordering on mere instinct, without combining +with it the idea of a hostile intention. On the other hand, hostile +intentions may often exist without being accompanied by any, or at +all events by any extreme, hostility of feeling. Amongst savages views +emanating from the feelings, amongst civilised nations those emanating +from the understanding, have the predominance; but this difference +arises from attendant circumstances, existing institutions, &c., and, +therefore, is not to be found necessarily in all cases, although it +prevails in the majority. In short, even the most civilised nations may +burn with passionate hatred of each other. + +We may see from this what a fallacy it would be to refer the War of +a civilised nation entirely to an intelligent act on the part of the +Government, and to imagine it as continually freeing itself more and +more from all feeling of passion in such a way that at last the physical +masses of combatants would no longer be required; in reality, their mere +relations would suffice--a kind of algebraic action. + +Theory was beginning to drift in this direction until the facts of the +last War(*) taught it better. If War is an ACT of force, it belongs +necessarily also to the feelings. If it does not originate in the +feelings, it REACTS, more or less, upon them, and the extent of this +reaction depends not on the degree of civilisation, but upon the +importance and duration of the interests involved. + + (*) Clausewitz alludes here to the "Wars of Liberation," + 1813,14,15. + +Therefore, if we find civilised nations do not put their prisoners +to death, do not devastate towns and countries, this is because their +intelligence exercises greater influence on their mode of carrying on +War, and has taught them more effectual means of applying force than +these rude acts of mere instinct. The invention of gunpowder, the +constant progress of improvements in the construction of firearms, are +sufficient proofs that the tendency to destroy the adversary which lies +at the bottom of the conception of War is in no way changed or modified +through the progress of civilisation. + +We therefore repeat our proposition, that War is an act of violence +pushed to its utmost bounds; as one side dictates the law to the other, +there arises a sort of reciprocal action, which logically must lead to +an extreme. This is the first reciprocal action, and the first extreme +with which we meet (FIRST RECIPROCAL ACTION). + +4. THE AIM IS TO DISARM THE ENEMY. + +We have already said that the aim of all action in War is to disarm +the enemy, and we shall now show that this, theoretically at least, is +indispensable. + +If our opponent is to be made to comply with our will, we must place him +in a situation which is more oppressive to him than the sacrifice which +we demand; but the disadvantages of this position must naturally not +be of a transitory nature, at least in appearance, otherwise the enemy, +instead of yielding, will hold out, in the prospect of a change for +the better. Every change in this position which is produced by a +continuation of the War should therefore be a change for the worse. The +worst condition in which a belligerent can be placed is that of being +completely disarmed. If, therefore, the enemy is to be reduced to +submission by an act of War, he must either be positively disarmed or +placed in such a position that he is threatened with it. From this it +follows that the disarming or overthrow of the enemy, whichever we call +it, must always be the aim of Warfare. Now War is always the shock of +two hostile bodies in collision, not the action of a living power upon +an inanimate mass, because an absolute state of endurance would not be +making War; therefore, what we have just said as to the aim of action in +War applies to both parties. Here, then, is another case of reciprocal +action. As long as the enemy is not defeated, he may defeat me; then I +shall be no longer my own master; he will dictate the law to me as I +did to him. This is the second reciprocal action, and leads to a second +extreme (SECOND RECIPROCAL ACTION). + +5. UTMOST EXERTION OF POWERS. + +If we desire to defeat the enemy, we must proportion our efforts to his +powers of resistance. This is expressed by the product of two factors +which cannot be separated, namely, the sum of available means and the +strength of the Will. The sum of the available means may be estimated in +a measure, as it depends (although not entirely) upon numbers; but the +strength of volition is more difficult to determine, and can only be +estimated to a certain extent by the strength of the motives. Granted we +have obtained in this way an approximation to the strength of the power +to be contended with, we can then take of our own means, and either +increase them so as to obtain a preponderance, or, in case we have not +the resources to effect this, then do our best by increasing our means +as far as possible. But the adversary does the same; therefore, there is +a new mutual enhancement, which, in pure conception, must create a fresh +effort towards an extreme. This is the third case of reciprocal action, +and a third extreme with which we meet (THIRD RECIPROCAL ACTION). + +6. MODIFICATION IN THE REALITY. + +Thus reasoning in the abstract, the mind cannot stop short of an +extreme, because it has to deal with an extreme, with a conflict of +forces left to themselves, and obeying no other but their own inner +laws. If we should seek to deduce from the pure conception of War an +absolute point for the aim which we shall propose and for the means +which we shall apply, this constant reciprocal action would involve us +in extremes, which would be nothing but a play of ideas produced by an +almost invisible train of logical subtleties. If, adhering closely to +the absolute, we try to avoid all difficulties by a stroke of the pen, +and insist with logical strictness that in every case the extreme must +be the object, and the utmost effort must be exerted in that direction, +such a stroke of the pen would be a mere paper law, not by any means +adapted to the real world. + +Even supposing this extreme tension of forces was an absolute which +could easily be ascertained, still we must admit that the human mind +would hardly submit itself to this kind of logical chimera. There +would be in many cases an unnecessary waste of power, which would be in +opposition to other principles of statecraft; an effort of Will would +be required disproportioned to the proposed object, which therefore it +would be impossible to realise, for the human will does not derive its +impulse from logical subtleties. + +But everything takes a different shape when we pass from abstractions to +reality. In the former, everything must be subject to optimism, and we +must imagine the one side as well as the other striving after perfection +and even attaining it. Will this ever take place in reality? It will if, + +(1) War becomes a completely isolated act, which arises suddenly, and is +in no way connected with the previous history of the combatant States. + +(2) If it is limited to a single solution, or to several simultaneous +solutions. + +(3) If it contains within itself the solution perfect and complete, +free from any reaction upon it, through a calculation beforehand of the +political situation which will follow from it. + +7. WAR IS NEVER AN ISOLATED ACT. + +With regard to the first point, neither of the two opponents is an +abstract person to the other, not even as regards that factor in the sum +of resistance which does not depend on objective things, viz., the Will. +This Will is not an entirely unknown quantity; it indicates what it +will be to-morrow by what it is to-day. War does not spring up quite +suddenly, it does not spread to the full in a moment; each of the two +opponents can, therefore, form an opinion of the other, in a great +measure, from what he is and what he does, instead of judging of him +according to what he, strictly speaking, should be or should do. But, +now, man with his incomplete organisation is always below the line of +absolute perfection, and thus these deficiencies, having an influence on +both sides, become a modifying principle. + +8. WAR DOES NOT CONSIST OF A SINGLE INSTANTANEOUS BLOW. + + +The second point gives rise to the following considerations:-- + +If War ended in a single solution, or a number of simultaneous ones, +then naturally all the preparations for the same would have a tendency +to the extreme, for an omission could not in any way be repaired; the +utmost, then, that the world of reality could furnish as a guide for us +would be the preparations of the enemy, as far as they are known to +us; all the rest would fall into the domain of the abstract. But if +the result is made up from several successive acts, then naturally that +which precedes with all its phases may be taken as a measure for that +which will follow, and in this manner the world of reality again takes +the place of the abstract, and thus modifies the effort towards the +extreme. + +Yet every War would necessarily resolve itself into a single solution, +or a sum of simultaneous results, if all the means required for the +struggle were raised at once, or could be at once raised; for as one +adverse result necessarily diminishes the means, then if all the means +have been applied in the first, a second cannot properly be supposed. +All hostile acts which might follow would belong essentially to the +first, and form, in reality only its duration. + +But we have already seen that even in the preparation for War the real +world steps into the place of mere abstract conception--a material +standard into the place of the hypotheses of an extreme: that therefore +in that way both parties, by the influence of the mutual reaction, +remain below the line of extreme effort, and therefore all forces are +not at once brought forward. + +It lies also in the nature of these forces and their application that +they cannot all be brought into activity at the same time. These forces +are THE ARMIES ACTUALLY ON FOOT, THE COUNTRY, with its superficial +extent and its population, AND THE ALLIES. + +In point of fact, the country, with its superficial area and the +population, besides being the source of all military force, constitutes +in itself an integral part of the efficient quantities in War, providing +either the theatre of war or exercising a considerable influence on the +same. + +Now, it is possible to bring all the movable military forces of +a country into operation at once, but not all fortresses, rivers, +mountains, people, &c.--in short, not the whole country, unless it is +so small that it may be completely embraced by the first act of the War. +Further, the co-operation of allies does not depend on the Will of the +belligerents; and from the nature of the political relations of states +to each other, this co-operation is frequently not afforded until after +the War has commenced, or it may be increased to restore the balance of +power. + +That this part of the means of resistance, which cannot at once be +brought into activity, in many cases, is a much greater part of the +whole than might at first be supposed, and that it often restores the +balance of power, seriously affected by the great force of the first +decision, will be more fully shown hereafter. Here it is sufficient to +show that a complete concentration of all available means in a moment of +time is contradictory to the nature of War. + +Now this, in itself, furnishes no ground for relaxing our efforts to +accumulate strength to gain the first result, because an unfavourable +issue is always a disadvantage to which no one would purposely expose +himself, and also because the first decision, although not the only one, +still will have the more influence on subsequent events, the greater it +is in itself. + +But the possibility of gaining a later result causes men to take refuge +in that expectation, owing to the repugnance in the human mind to +making excessive efforts; and therefore forces are not concentrated and +measures are not taken for the first decision with that energy which +would otherwise be used. Whatever one belligerent omits from weakness, +becomes to the other a real objective ground for limiting his own +efforts, and thus again, through this reciprocal action, extreme +tendencies are brought down to efforts on a limited scale. + + +9. THE RESULT IN WAR IS NEVER ABSOLUTE. + +Lastly, even the final decision of a whole War is not always to be +regarded as absolute. The conquered State often sees in it only a +passing evil, which may be repaired in after times by means of political +combinations. How much this must modify the degree of tension, and the +vigour of the efforts made, is evident in itself. + + +10. THE PROBABILITIES OF REAL LIFE TAKE THE PLACE OF THE CONCEPTIONS OF +THE EXTREME AND THE ABSOLUTE. + +In this manner, the whole act of War is removed from the rigorous law +of forces exerted to the utmost. If the extreme is no longer to be +apprehended, and no longer to be sought for, it is left to the judgment +to determine the limits for the efforts to be made in place of it, and +this can only be done on the data furnished by the facts of the real +world by the LAWS OF PROBABILITY. Once the belligerents are no longer +mere conceptions, but individual States and Governments, once the War +is no longer an ideal, but a definite substantial procedure, then the +reality will furnish the data to compute the unknown quantities which +are required to be found. + +From the character, the measures, the situation of the adversary, +and the relations with which he is surrounded, each side will draw +conclusions by the law of probability as to the designs of the other, +and act accordingly. + + +11. THE POLITICAL OBJECT NOW REAPPEARS. + +Here the question which we had laid aside forces itself again into +consideration (see No. 2), viz., the political object of the War. The +law of the extreme, the view to disarm the adversary, to overthrow +him, has hitherto to a certain extent usurped the place of this end or +object. Just as this law loses its force, the political must again come +forward. If the whole consideration is a calculation of probability +based on definite persons and relations, then the political object, +being the original motive, must be an essential factor in the product. +The smaller the sacrifice we demand from ours, the smaller, it may be +expected, will be the means of resistance which he will employ; but the +smaller his preparation, the smaller will ours require to be. Further, +the smaller our political object, the less value shall we set upon it, +and the more easily shall we be induced to give it up altogether. + +Thus, therefore, the political object, as the original motive of the +War, will be the standard for determining both the aim of the military +force and also the amount of effort to be made. This it cannot be in +itself, but it is so in relation to both the belligerent States, because +we are concerned with realities, not with mere abstractions. One and +the same political object may produce totally different effects upon +different people, or even upon the same people at different times; +we can, therefore, only admit the political object as the measure, by +considering it in its effects upon those masses which it is to move, and +consequently the nature of those masses also comes into consideration. +It is easy to see that thus the result may be very different according +as these masses are animated with a spirit which will infuse vigour +into the action or otherwise. It is quite possible for such a state +of feeling to exist between two States that a very trifling political +motive for War may produce an effect quite disproportionate--in fact, a +perfect explosion. + +This applies to the efforts which the political object will call forth +in the two States, and to the aim which the military action shall +prescribe for itself. At times it may itself be that aim, as, for +example, the conquest of a province. At other times the political object +itself is not suitable for the aim of military action; then such a one +must be chosen as will be an equivalent for it, and stand in its place +as regards the conclusion of peace. But also, in this, due attention to +the peculiar character of the States concerned is always supposed. There +are circumstances in which the equivalent must be much greater than the +political object, in order to secure the latter. The political object +will be so much the more the standard of aim and effort, and have more +influence in itself, the more the masses are indifferent, the less that +any mutual feeling of hostility prevails in the two States from other +causes, and therefore there are cases where the political object almost +alone will be decisive. + +If the aim of the military action is an equivalent for the political +object, that action will in general diminish as the political object +diminishes, and in a greater degree the more the political object +dominates. Thus it is explained how, without any contradiction in +itself, there may be Wars of all degrees of importance and energy, from +a War of extermination down to the mere use of an army of observation. +This, however, leads to a question of another kind which we have +hereafter to develop and answer. + + +12. A SUSPENSION IN THE ACTION OF WAR UNEXPLAINED BY ANYTHING SAID AS +YET. + +However insignificant the political claims mutually advanced, however +weak the means put forth, however small the aim to which military action +is directed, can this action be suspended even for a moment? This is a +question which penetrates deeply into the nature of the subject. + +Every transaction requires for its accomplishment a certain time which +we call its duration. This may be longer or shorter, according as the +person acting throws more or less despatch into his movements. + +About this more or less we shall not trouble ourselves here. Each person +acts in his own fashion; but the slow person does not protract the thing +because he wishes to spend more time about it, but because by his nature +he requires more time, and if he made more haste would not do the thing +so well. This time, therefore, depends on subjective causes, and belongs +to the length, so called, of the action. + +If we allow now to every action in War this, its length, then we must +assume, at first sight at least, that any expenditure of time beyond +this length, that is, every suspension of hostile action, appears an +absurdity; with respect to this it must not be forgotten that we now +speak not of the progress of one or other of the two opponents, but of +the general progress of the whole action of the War. + + +13. THERE IS ONLY ONE CAUSE WHICH CAN SUSPEND THE ACTION, AND THIS SEEMS +TO BE ONLY POSSIBLE ON ONE SIDE IN ANY CASE. + +If two parties have armed themselves for strife, then a feeling of +animosity must have moved them to it; as long now as they continue +armed, that is, do not come to terms of peace, this feeling must exist; +and it can only be brought to a standstill by either side by one single +motive alone, which is, THAT HE WAITS FOR A MORE FAVOURABLE MOMENT FOR +ACTION. Now, at first sight, it appears that this motive can never exist +except on one side, because it, eo ipso, must be prejudicial to the +other. If the one has an interest in acting, then the other must have an +interest in waiting. + +A complete equilibrium of forces can never produce a suspension of +action, for during this suspension he who has the positive object (that +is, the assailant) must continue progressing; for if we should imagine +an equilibrium in this way, that he who has the positive object, +therefore the strongest motive, can at the same time only command the +lesser means, so that the equation is made up by the product of the +motive and the power, then we must say, if no alteration in this +condition of equilibrium is to be expected, the two parties must make +peace; but if an alteration is to be expected, then it can only be +favourable to one side, and therefore the other has a manifest interest +to act without delay. We see that the conception of an equilibrium +cannot explain a suspension of arms, but that it ends in the question of +the EXPECTATION OF A MORE FAVOURABLE MOMENT. + +Let us suppose, therefore, that one of two States has a positive object, +as, for instance, the conquest of one of the enemy's provinces--which +is to be utilised in the settlement of peace. After this conquest, his +political object is accomplished, the necessity for action ceases, and +for him a pause ensues. If the adversary is also contented with this +solution, he will make peace; if not, he must act. Now, if we suppose +that in four weeks he will be in a better condition to act, then he has +sufficient grounds for putting off the time of action. + +But from that moment the logical course for the enemy appears to be +to act that he may not give the conquered party THE DESIRED time. Of +course, in this mode of reasoning a complete insight into the state of +circumstances on both sides is supposed. + + +14. THUS A CONTINUANCE OF ACTION WILL ENSUE WHICH WILL ADVANCE TOWARDS A +CLIMAX. + +If this unbroken continuity of hostile operations really existed, +the effect would be that everything would again be driven towards the +extreme; for, irrespective of the effect of such incessant activity in +inflaming the feelings, and infusing into the whole a greater degree of +passion, a greater elementary force, there would also follow from this +continuance of action a stricter continuity, a closer connection between +cause and effect, and thus every single action would become of more +importance, and consequently more replete with danger. + +But we know that the course of action in War has seldom or never this +unbroken continuity, and that there have been many Wars in which action +occupied by far the smallest portion of time employed, the whole of the +rest being consumed in inaction. It is impossible that this should +be always an anomaly; suspension of action in War must therefore be +possible, that is no contradiction in itself. We now proceed to show how +this is. + +15. HERE, THEREFORE, THE PRINCIPLE OF POLARITY IS BROUGHT INTO +REQUISITION. + +As we have supposed the interests of one Commander to be always +antagonistic to those of the other, we have assumed a true POLARITY. We +reserve a fuller explanation of this for another chapter, merely making +the following observation on it at present. + +The principle of polarity is only valid when it can be conceived in one +and the same thing, where the positive and its opposite the negative +completely destroy each other. In a battle both sides strive to conquer; +that is true polarity, for the victory of the one side destroys that of +the other. But when we speak of two different things which have a common +relation external to themselves, then it is not the things but their +relations which have the polarity. + + +16. ATTACK AND DEFENCE ARE THINGS DIFFERING IN KIND AND OF UNEQUAL +FORCE. POLARITY IS, THEREFORE, NOT APPLICABLE TO THEM. + +If there was only one form of War, to wit, the attack of the +enemy, therefore no defence; or, in other words, if the attack was +distinguished from the defence merely by the positive motive, which the +one has and the other has not, but the methods of each were precisely +one and the same: then in this sort of fight every advantage gained on +the one side would be a corresponding disadvantage on the other, and +true polarity would exist. + +But action in War is divided into two forms, attack and defence, which, +as we shall hereafter explain more particularly, are very different and +of unequal strength. Polarity therefore lies in that to which both bear +a relation, in the decision, but not in the attack or defence itself. + +If the one Commander wishes the solution put off, the other must wish +to hasten it, but only by the same form of action. If it is A's interest +not to attack his enemy at present, but four weeks hence, then it is +B's interest to be attacked, not four weeks hence, but at the present +moment. This is the direct antagonism of interests, but it by no means +follows that it would be for B's interest to attack A at once. That is +plainly something totally different. + + +17. THE EFFECT OF POLARITY IS OFTEN DESTROYED BY THE SUPERIORITY OF THE +DEFENCE OVER THE ATTACK, AND THUS THE SUSPENSION OF ACTION IN WAR IS +EXPLAINED. + +If the form of defence is stronger than that of offence, as we shall +hereafter show, the question arises, Is the advantage of a deferred +decision as great on the one side as the advantage of the defensive +form on the other? If it is not, then it cannot by its counter-weight +over-balance the latter, and thus influence the progress of the action +of the War. We see, therefore, that the impulsive force existing in the +polarity of interests may be lost in the difference between the strength +of the offensive and the defensive, and thereby become ineffectual. + +If, therefore, that side for which the present is favourable, is too +weak to be able to dispense with the advantage of the defensive, he must +put up with the unfavourable prospects which the future holds out; for +it may still be better to fight a defensive battle in the unpromising +future than to assume the offensive or make peace at present. Now, being +convinced that the superiority of the defensive(*) (rightly understood) +is very great, and much greater than may appear at first sight, we +conceive that the greater number of those periods of inaction which +occur in war are thus explained without involving any contradiction. +The weaker the motives to action are, the more will those motives be +absorbed and neutralised by this difference between attack and defence, +the more frequently, therefore, will action in warfare be stopped, as +indeed experience teaches. + + (*) It must be remembered that all this antedates by some + years the introduction of long-range weapons. + + +18 A SECOND GROUND CONSISTS IN THE IMPERFECT KNOWLEDGE OF CIRCUMSTANCES. + +But there is still another cause which may stop action in War, viz., an +incomplete view of the situation. Each Commander can only fully know his +own position; that of his opponent can only be known to him by reports, +which are uncertain; he may, therefore, form a wrong judgment with +respect to it upon data of this description, and, in consequence of that +error, he may suppose that the power of taking the initiative rests with +his adversary when it lies really with himself. This want of perfect +insight might certainly just as often occasion an untimely action as +untimely inaction, and hence it would in itself no more contribute +to delay than to accelerate action in War. Still, it must always be +regarded as one of the natural causes which may bring action in War to a +standstill without involving a contradiction. But if we reflect how much +more we are inclined and induced to estimate the power of our opponents +too high than too low, because it lies in human nature to do so, we +shall admit that our imperfect insight into facts in general must +contribute very much to delay action in War, and to modify the +application of the principles pending our conduct. + +The possibility of a standstill brings into the action of War a new +modification, inasmuch as it dilutes that action with the element +of time, checks the influence or sense of danger in its course, and +increases the means of reinstating a lost balance of force. The +greater the tension of feelings from which the War springs, the greater +therefore the energy with which it is carried on, so much the shorter +will be the periods of inaction; on the other hand, the weaker the +principle of warlike activity, the longer will be these periods: for +powerful motives increase the force of the will, and this, as we know, +is always a factor in the product of force. + + +19. FREQUENT PERIODS OF INACTION IN WAR REMOVE IT FURTHER FROM THE +ABSOLUTE, AND MAKE IT STILL MORE A CALCULATION OF PROBABILITIES. + +But the slower the action proceeds in War, the more frequent and +longer the periods of inaction, so much the more easily can an error +be repaired; therefore, so much the bolder a General will be in his +calculations, so much the more readily will he keep them below the line +of the absolute, and build everything upon probabilities and conjecture. +Thus, according as the course of the War is more or less slow, more or +less time will be allowed for that which the nature of a concrete +case particularly requires, calculation of probability based on given +circumstances. + + +20. THEREFORE, THE ELEMENT OF CHANCE ONLY IS WANTING TO MAKE OF WAR A +GAME, AND IN THAT ELEMENT IT IS LEAST OF ALL DEFICIENT. + +We see from the foregoing how much the objective nature of War makes +it a calculation of probabilities; now there is only one single element +still wanting to make it a game, and that element it certainly is +not without: it is chance. There is no human affair which stands so +constantly and so generally in close connection with chance as War. +But together with chance, the accidental, and along with it good luck, +occupy a great place in War. + + +21. WAR IS A GAME BOTH OBJECTIVELY AND SUBJECTIVELY. + +If we now take a look at the subjective nature of War, that is to say, +at those conditions under which it is carried on, it will appear to us +still more like a game. Primarily the element in which the operations +of War are carried on is danger; but which of all the moral qualities is +the first in danger? COURAGE. Now certainly courage is quite compatible +with prudent calculation, but still they are things of quite a different +kind, essentially different qualities of the mind; on the other +hand, daring reliance on good fortune, boldness, rashness, are only +expressions of courage, and all these propensities of the mind look for +the fortuitous (or accidental), because it is their element. + +We see, therefore, how, from the commencement, the absolute, the +mathematical as it is called, nowhere finds any sure basis in the +calculations in the Art of War; and that from the outset there is a play +of possibilities, probabilities, good and bad luck, which spreads about +with all the coarse and fine threads of its web, and makes War of all +branches of human activity the most like a gambling game. + + +22. HOW THIS ACCORDS BEST WITH THE HUMAN MIND IN GENERAL. + +Although our intellect always feels itself urged towards clearness and +certainty, still our mind often feels itself attracted by uncertainty. +Instead of threading its way with the understanding along the narrow +path of philosophical investigations and logical conclusions, in order, +almost unconscious of itself, to arrive in spaces where it feels itself +a stranger, and where it seems to part from all well-known objects, it +prefers to remain with the imagination in the realms of chance and luck. +Instead of living yonder on poor necessity, it revels here in the wealth +of possibilities; animated thereby, courage then takes wings to itself, +and daring and danger make the element into which it launches itself as +a fearless swimmer plunges into the stream. + +Shall theory leave it here, and move on, self-satisfied with absolute +conclusions and rules? Then it is of no practical use. Theory must also +take into account the human element; it must accord a place to courage, +to boldness, even to rashness. The Art of War has to deal with living +and with moral forces, the consequence of which is that it can never +attain the absolute and positive. There is therefore everywhere a margin +for the accidental, and just as much in the greatest things as in the +smallest. As there is room for this accidental on the one hand, so on +the other there must be courage and self-reliance in proportion to the +room available. If these qualities are forthcoming in a high degree, +the margin left may likewise be great. Courage and self-reliance are, +therefore, principles quite essential to War; consequently, theory +must only set up such rules as allow ample scope for all degrees and +varieties of these necessary and noblest of military virtues. In daring +there may still be wisdom, and prudence as well, only they are estimated +by a different standard of value. + + +23. WAR IS ALWAYS A SERIOUS MEANS FOR A SERIOUS OBJECT. ITS MORE +PARTICULAR DEFINITION. + +Such is War; such the Commander who conducts it; such the theory which +rules it. But War is no pastime; no mere passion for venturing and +winning; no work of a free enthusiasm: it is a serious means for a +serious object. All that appearance which it wears from the varying hues +of fortune, all that it assimilates into itself of the oscillations of +passion, of courage, of imagination, of enthusiasm, are only particular +properties of this means. + +The War of a community--of whole Nations, and particularly of civilised +Nations--always starts from a political condition, and is called forth +by a political motive. It is, therefore, a political act. Now if it was +a perfect, unrestrained, and absolute expression of force, as we had to +deduct it from its mere conception, then the moment it is called forth +by policy it would step into the place of policy, and as something quite +independent of it would set it aside, and only follow its own laws, just +as a mine at the moment of explosion cannot be guided into any +other direction than that which has been given to it by preparatory +arrangements. This is how the thing has really been viewed hitherto, +whenever a want of harmony between policy and the conduct of a War has +led to theoretical distinctions of the kind. But it is not so, and the +idea is radically false. War in the real world, as we have already seen, +is not an extreme thing which expends itself at one single discharge; it +is the operation of powers which do not develop themselves completely +in the same manner and in the same measure, but which at one time expand +sufficiently to overcome the resistance opposed by inertia or friction, +while at another they are too weak to produce an effect; it is +therefore, in a certain measure, a pulsation of violent force more or +less vehement, consequently making its discharges and exhausting its +powers more or less quickly--in other words, conducting more or less +quickly to the aim, but always lasting long enough to admit of influence +being exerted on it in its course, so as to give it this or +that direction, in short, to be subject to the will of a guiding +intelligence., if we reflect that War has its root in a political +object, then naturally this original motive which called it into +existence should also continue the first and highest consideration in +its conduct. Still, the political object is no despotic lawgiver on +that account; it must accommodate itself to the nature of the means, and +though changes in these means may involve modification in the political +objective, the latter always retains a prior right to consideration. +Policy, therefore, is interwoven with the whole action of War, and must +exercise a continuous influence upon it, as far as the nature of the +forces liberated by it will permit. + + +24. WAR IS A MERE CONTINUATION OF POLICY BY OTHER MEANS. + +We see, therefore, that War is not merely a political act, but also +a real political instrument, a continuation of political commerce, +a carrying out of the same by other means. All beyond this which is +strictly peculiar to War relates merely to the peculiar nature of the +means which it uses. That the tendencies and views of policy shall not +be incompatible with these means, the Art of War in general and the +Commander in each particular case may demand, and this claim is truly +not a trifling one. But however powerfully this may react on political +views in particular cases, still it must always be regarded as only a +modification of them; for the political view is the object, War is the +means, and the means must always include the object in our conception. + + +25. DIVERSITY IN THE NATURE OF WARS. + +The greater and the more powerful the motives of a War, the more it +affects the whole existence of a people. The more violent the excitement +which precedes the War, by so much the nearer will the War approach +to its abstract form, so much the more will it be directed to the +destruction of the enemy, so much the nearer will the military and +political ends coincide, so much the more purely military and less +political the War appears to be; but the weaker the motives and the +tensions, so much the less will the natural direction of the military +element--that is, force--be coincident with the direction which the +political element indicates; so much the more must, therefore, the War +become diverted from its natural direction, the political object diverge +from the aim of an ideal War, and the War appear to become political. + +But, that the reader may not form any false conceptions, we must +here observe that by this natural tendency of War we only mean the +philosophical, the strictly logical, and by no means the tendency of +forces actually engaged in conflict, by which would be supposed to be +included all the emotions and passions of the combatants. No doubt in +some cases these also might be excited to such a degree as to be with +difficulty restrained and confined to the political road; but in most +cases such a contradiction will not arise, because by the existence +of such strenuous exertions a great plan in harmony therewith would +be implied. If the plan is directed only upon a small object, then the +impulses of feeling amongst the masses will be also so weak that these +masses will require to be stimulated rather than repressed. + + +26. THEY MAY ALL BE REGARDED AS POLITICAL ACTS. + +Returning now to the main subject, although it is true that in one +kind of War the political element seems almost to disappear, whilst in +another kind it occupies a very prominent place, we may still affirm +that the one is as political as the other; for if we regard the State +policy as the intelligence of the personified State, then amongst +all the constellations in the political sky whose movements it has +to compute, those must be included which arise when the nature of +its relations imposes the necessity of a great War. It is only if we +understand by policy not a true appreciation of affairs in general, +but the conventional conception of a cautious, subtle, also dishonest +craftiness, averse from violence, that the latter kind of War may belong +more to policy than the first. + + +27. INFLUENCE OF THIS VIEW ON THE RIGHT UNDERSTANDING OF MILITARY +HISTORY, AND ON THE FOUNDATIONS OF THEORY. + +We see, therefore, in the first place, that under all circumstances +War is to be regarded not as an independent thing, but as a political +instrument; and it is only by taking this point of view that we can +avoid finding ourselves in opposition to all military history. This is +the only means of unlocking the great book and making it intelligible. +Secondly, this view shows us how Wars must differ in character according +to the nature of the motives and circumstances from which they proceed. + +Now, the first, the grandest, and most decisive act of judgment which +the Statesman and General exercises is rightly to understand in this +respect the War in which he engages, not to take it for something, or to +wish to make of it something, which by the nature of its relations it +is impossible for it to be. This is, therefore, the first, the most +comprehensive, of all strategical questions. We shall enter into this +more fully in treating of the plan of a War. + +For the present we content ourselves with having brought the subject +up to this point, and having thereby fixed the chief point of view from +which War and its theory are to be studied. + + +28. RESULT FOR THEORY. + +War is, therefore, not only chameleon-like in character, because it +changes its colour in some degree in each particular case, but it is +also, as a whole, in relation to the predominant tendencies which are +in it, a wonderful trinity, composed of the original violence of its +elements, hatred and animosity, which may be looked upon as blind +instinct; of the play of probabilities and chance, which make it a +free activity of the soul; and of the subordinate nature of a political +instrument, by which it belongs purely to the reason. + +The first of these three phases concerns more the people the second, +more the General and his Army; the third, more the Government. The +passions which break forth in War must already have a latent existence +in the peoples. The range which the display of courage and talents +shall get in the realm of probabilities and of chance depends on +the particular characteristics of the General and his Army, but the +political objects belong to the Government alone. + +These three tendencies, which appear like so many different law-givers, +are deeply rooted in the nature of the subject, and at the same time +variable in degree. A theory which would leave any one of them out +of account, or set up any arbitrary relation between them, would +immediately become involved in such a contradiction with the reality, +that it might be regarded as destroyed at once by that alone. + +The problem is, therefore, that theory shall keep itself poised in +a manner between these three tendencies, as between three points of +attraction. + +The way in which alone this difficult problem can be solved we shall +examine in the book on the "Theory of War." In every case the conception +of War, as here defined, will be the first ray of light which shows +us the true foundation of theory, and which first separates the great +masses and allows us to distinguish them from one another. + + + +CHAPTER II. END AND MEANS IN WAR + +HAVING in the foregoing chapter ascertained the complicated and variable +nature of War, we shall now occupy ourselves in examining into the +influence which this nature has upon the end and means in War. + +If we ask, first of all, for the object upon which the whole effort of +War is to be directed, in order that it may suffice for the attainment +of the political object, we shall find that it is just as variable as +are the political object and the particular circumstances of the War. + +If, in the next place, we keep once more to the pure conception of War, +then we must say that the political object properly lies out of its +province, for if War is an act of violence to compel the enemy to fulfil +our will, then in every case all depends on our overthrowing the enemy, +that is, disarming him, and on that alone. This object, developed from +abstract conceptions, but which is also the one aimed at in a great many +cases in reality, we shall, in the first place, examine in this reality. + +In connection with the plan of a campaign we shall hereafter examine +more closely into the meaning of disarming a nation, but here we must +at once draw a distinction between three things, which, as three general +objects, comprise everything else within them. They are the MILITARY +POWER, THE COUNTRY, and THE WILL OF THE ENEMY. + +The military power must be destroyed, that is, reduced to such a state +as not to be able to prosecute the War. This is the sense in which +we wish to be understood hereafter, whenever we use the expression +"destruction of the enemy's military power." + +The country must be conquered, for out of the country a new military +force may be formed. + +But even when both these things are done, still the War, that is, the +hostile feeling and action of hostile agencies, cannot be considered as +at an end as long as the will of the enemy is not subdued also; that is, +its Government and its Allies must be forced into signing a peace, or +the people into submission; for whilst we are in full occupation of the +country, the War may break out afresh, either in the interior or through +assistance given by Allies. No doubt, this may also take place after a +peace, but that shows nothing more than that every War does not carry in +itself the elements for a complete decision and final settlement. + +But even if this is the case, still with the conclusion of peace a +number of sparks are always extinguished which would have smouldered on +quietly, and the excitement of the passions abates, because all those +whose minds are disposed to peace, of which in all nations and under +all circumstances there is always a great number, turn themselves +away completely from the road to resistance. Whatever may take place +subsequently, we must always look upon the object as attained, and the +business of War as ended, by a peace. + +As protection of the country is the primary object for which the +military force exists, therefore the natural order is, that first of all +this force should be destroyed, then the country subdued; and through +the effect of these two results, as well as the position we then hold, +the enemy should be forced to make peace. Generally the destruction of +the enemy's force is done by degrees, and in just the same measure the +conquest of the country follows immediately. The two likewise usually +react upon each other, because the loss of provinces occasions a +diminution of military force. But this order is by no means necessary, +and on that account it also does not always take place. The enemy's +Army, before it is sensibly weakened, may retreat to the opposite side +of the country, or even quite outside of it. In this case, therefore, +the greater part or the whole of the country is conquered. + +But this object of War in the abstract, this final means of attaining +the political object in which all others are combined, the DISARMING THE +ENEMY, is rarely attained in practice and is not a condition necessary +to peace. Therefore it can in no wise be set up in theory as a law. +There are innumerable instances of treaties in which peace has been +settled before either party could be looked upon as disarmed; indeed, +even before the balance of power had undergone any sensible alteration. +Nay, further, if we look at the case in the concrete, then we must say +that in a whole class of cases, the idea of a complete defeat of the +enemy would be a mere imaginative flight, especially when the enemy is +considerably superior. + +The reason why the object deduced from the conception of War is not +adapted in general to real War lies in the difference between the two, +which is discussed in the preceding chapter. If it was as pure theory +gives it, then a War between two States of very unequal military +strength would appear an absurdity; therefore impossible. At most, the +inequality between the physical forces might be such that it could be +balanced by the moral forces, and that would not go far with our present +social condition in Europe. Therefore, if we have seen Wars take place +between States of very unequal power, that has been the case because +there is a wide difference between War in reality and its original +conception. + +There are two considerations which as motives may practically take +the place of inability to continue the contest. The first is the +improbability, the second is the excessive price, of success. + +According to what we have seen in the foregoing chapter, War must always +set itself free from the strict law of logical necessity, and seek aid +from the calculation of probabilities; and as this is so much the more +the case, the more the War has a bias that way, from the circumstances +out of which it has arisen--the smaller its motives are, and the +excitement it has raised--so it is also conceivable how out of this +calculation of probabilities even motives to peace may arise. War does +not, therefore, always require to be fought out until one party is +overthrown; and we may suppose that, when the motives and passions are +slight, a weak probability will suffice to move that side to which it +is unfavourable to give way. Now, were the other side convinced of this +beforehand, it is natural that he would strive for this probability +only, instead of first wasting time and effort in the attempt to achieve +the total destruction of the enemy's Army. + +Still more general in its influence on the resolution to peace is the +consideration of the expenditure of force already made, and further +required. As War is no act of blind passion, but is dominated by the +political object, therefore the value of that object determines the +measure of the sacrifices by which it is to be purchased. This will be +the case, not only as regards extent, but also as regards duration. +As soon, therefore, as the required outlay becomes so great that the +political object is no longer equal in value, the object must be given +up, and peace will be the result. + +We see, therefore, that in Wars where one side cannot completely disarm +the other, the motives to peace on both sides will rise or fall on each +side according to the probability of future success and the required +outlay. If these motives were equally strong on both sides, they would +meet in the centre of their political difference. Where they are strong +on one side, they might be weak on the other. If their amount is only +sufficient, peace will follow, but naturally to the advantage of that +side which has the weakest motive for its conclusion. We purposely pass +over here the difference which the POSITIVE and NEGATIVE character of +the political end must necessarily produce practically; for although +that is, as we shall hereafter show, of the highest importance, still +we are obliged to keep here to a more general point of view, because the +original political views in the course of the War change very much, and +at last may become totally different, JUST BECAUSE THEY ARE DETERMINED +BY RESULTS AND PROBABLE EVENTS. + +Now comes the question how to influence the probability of success. +In the first place, naturally by the same means which we use when +the object is the subjugation of the enemy, by the destruction of his +military force and the conquest of his provinces; but these two means +are not exactly of the same import here as they would be in reference to +that object. If we attack the enemy's Army, it is a very different +thing whether we intend to follow up the first blow with a succession +of others, until the whole force is destroyed, or whether we mean +to content ourselves with a victory to shake the enemy's feeling of +security, to convince him of our superiority, and to instil into him a +feeling of apprehension about the future. If this is our object, we only +go so far in the destruction of his forces as is sufficient. In like +manner, the conquest, of the enemy's provinces is quite a different +measure if the object is not the destruction of the enemy's Army. In the +latter case the destruction of the Army is the real effectual action, +and the taking of the provinces only a consequence of it; to take them +before the Army had been defeated would always be looked upon only as +a necessary evil. On the other hand, if our views are not directed upon +the complete destruction of the enemy's force, and if we are sure that +the enemy does not seek but fears to bring matters to a bloody decision, +the taking possession of a weak or defenceless province is an advantage +in itself, and if this advantage is of sufficient importance to make +the enemy apprehensive about the general result, then it may also be +regarded as a shorter road to peace. + +But now we come upon a peculiar means of influencing the probability +of the result without destroying the enemy's Army, namely, upon the +expeditions which have a direct connection with political views. If +there are any enterprises which are particularly likely to break up the +enemy's alliances or make them inoperative, to gain new alliances for +ourselves, to raise political powers in our own favour, &c. &c., then +it is easy to conceive how much these may increase the probability of +success, and become a shorter way towards our object than the routing of +the enemy's forces. + +The second question is how to act upon the enemy's expenditure in +strength, that is, to raise the price of success. + +The enemy's outlay in strength lies in the WEAR AND TEAR of his forces, +consequently in the DESTRUCTION of them on our part, and in the LOSS of +PROVINCES, consequently the CONQUEST of them by us. + +Here, again, on account of the various significations of these means, so +likewise it will be found that neither of them will be identical in its +signification in all cases if the objects are different. The smallness +in general of this difference must not cause us perplexity, for in +reality the weakest motives, the finest shades of difference, often +decide in favour of this or that method of applying force. Our only +business here is to show that, certain conditions being supposed, +the possibility of attaining our purpose in different ways is no +contradiction, absurdity, nor even error. + +Besides these two means, there are three other peculiar ways of directly +increasing the waste of the enemy's force. The first is INVASION, that +is THE OCCUPATION OF THE ENEMY'S TERRITORY, NOT WITH A VIEW TO KEEPING +IT, but in order to levy contributions upon it, or to devastate it. + +The immediate object here is neither the conquest of the enemy's +territory nor the defeat of his armed force, but merely to DO HIM DAMAGE +IN A GENERAL WAY. The second way is to select for the object of our +enterprises those points at which we can do the enemy most harm. Nothing +is easier to conceive than two different directions in which our force +may be employed, the first of which is to be preferred if our object is +to defeat the enemy's Army, while the other is more advantageous if the +defeat of the enemy is out of the question. According to the usual mode +of speaking, we should say that the first is primarily military, the +other more political. But if we take our view from the highest point, +both are equally military, and neither the one nor the other can be +eligible unless it suits the circumstances of the case. The third, +by far the most important, from the great number of cases which it +embraces, is the WEARING OUT of the enemy. We choose this expression not +only to explain our meaning in few words, but because it represents the +thing exactly, and is not so figurative as may at first appear. The idea +of wearing out in a struggle amounts in practice to A GRADUAL EXHAUSTION +OF THE PHYSICAL POWERS AND OF THE WILL BY THE LONG CONTINUANCE OF +EXERTION. + +Now, if we want to overcome the enemy by the duration of the contest, we +must content ourselves with as small objects as possible, for it is in +the nature of the thing that a great end requires a greater expenditure +of force than a small one; but the smallest object that we can propose +to ourselves is simple passive resistance, that is a combat without any +positive view. In this way, therefore, our means attain their greatest +relative value, and therefore the result is best secured. How far now +can this negative mode of proceeding be carried? Plainly not to absolute +passivity, for mere endurance would not be fighting; and the defensive +is an activity by which so much of the enemy's power must be destroyed +that he must give up his object. That alone is what we aim at in each +single act, and therein consists the negative nature of our object. + +No doubt this negative object in its single act is not so effective +as the positive object in the same direction would be, supposing it +successful; but there is this difference in its favour, that it succeeds +more easily than the positive, and therefore it holds out greater +certainty of success; what is wanting in the efficacy of its single +act must be gained through time, that is, through the duration of the +contest, and therefore this negative intention, which constitutes the +principle of the pure defensive, is also the natural means of overcoming +the enemy by the duration of the combat, that is of wearing him out. + +Here lies the origin of that difference of OFFENSIVE and DEFENSIVE, the +influence of which prevails throughout the whole province of War. We +cannot at present pursue this subject further than to observe that from +this negative intention are to be deduced all the advantages and all the +stronger forms of combat which are on the side of the Defensive, and in +which that philosophical-dynamic law which exists between the +greatness and the certainty of success is realised. We shall resume the +consideration of all this hereafter. + +If then the negative purpose, that is the concentration of all the means +into a state of pure resistance, affords a superiority in the contest, +and if this advantage is sufficient to BALANCE whatever superiority in +numbers the adversary may have, then the mere DURATION of the contest +will suffice gradually to bring the loss of force on the part of the +adversary to a point at which the political object can no longer be an +equivalent, a point at which, therefore, he must give up the contest. +We see then that this class of means, the wearing out of the enemy, +includes the great number of cases in which the weaker resists the +stronger. + +Frederick the Great, during the Seven Years' War, was never strong +enough to overthrow the Austrian monarchy; and if he had tried to do so +after the fashion of Charles the Twelfth, he would inevitably have had +to succumb himself. But after his skilful application of the system +of husbanding his resources had shown the powers allied against him, +through a seven years' struggle, that the actual expenditure of strength +far exceeded what they had at first anticipated, they made peace. + +We see then that there are many ways to one's object in War; that the +complete subjugation of the enemy is not essential in every case; that +the destruction of the enemy's military force, the conquest of the +enemy's provinces, the mere occupation of them, the mere invasion of +them--enterprises which are aimed directly at political objects--lastly, +a passive expectation of the enemy's blow, are all means which, each in +itself, may be used to force the enemy's will according as the peculiar +circumstances of the case lead us to expect more from the one or the +other. We could still add to these a whole category of shorter methods +of gaining the end, which might be called arguments ad hominem. What +branch of human affairs is there in which these sparks of individual +spirit have not made their appearance, surmounting all formal +considerations? And least of all can they fail to appear in War, where +the personal character of the combatants plays such an important part, +both in the cabinet and in the field. We limit ourselves to pointing +this out, as it would be pedantry to attempt to reduce such influences +into classes. Including these, we may say that the number of possible +ways of reaching the object rises to infinity. + +To avoid under-estimating these different short roads to one's +purpose, either estimating them only as rare exceptions, or holding the +difference which they cause in the conduct of War as insignificant, we +must bear in mind the diversity of political objects which may cause +a War--measure at a glance the distance which there is between a death +struggle for political existence and a War which a forced or tottering +alliance makes a matter of disagreeable duty. Between the two +innumerable gradations occur in practice. If we reject one of these +gradations in theory, we might with equal right reject the whole, which +would be tantamount to shutting the real world completely out of sight. + +These are the circumstances in general connected with the aim which we +have to pursue in War; let us now turn to the means. + +There is only one single means, it is the FIGHT. However diversified +this may be in form, however widely it may differ from a rough vent of +hatred and animosity in a hand-to-hand encounter, whatever number of +things may introduce themselves which are not actual fighting, still +it is always implied in the conception of War that all the effects +manifested have their roots in the combat. + +That this must always be so in the greatest diversity and complication +of the reality is proved in a very simple manner. All that takes place +in War takes place through armed forces, but where the forces of +War, i.e., armed men, are applied, there the idea of fighting must of +necessity be at the foundation. + +All, therefore, that relates to forces of War--all that is connected +with their creation, maintenance, and application--belongs to military +activity. + +Creation and maintenance are obviously only the means, whilst +application is the object. + +The contest in War is not a contest of individual against individual, +but an organised whole, consisting of manifold parts; in this great +whole we may distinguish units of two kinds, the one determined by the +subject, the other by the object. In an Army the mass of combatants +ranges itself always into an order of new units, which again form +members of a higher order. The combat of each of these members forms, +therefore, also a more or less distinct unit. Further, the motive of the +fight; therefore its object forms its unit. + +Now, to each of these units which we distinguish in the contest we +attach the name of combat. + +If the idea of combat lies at the foundation of every application of +armed power, then also the application of armed force in general is +nothing more than the determining and arranging a certain number of +combats. + +Every activity in War, therefore, necessarily relates to the combat +either directly or indirectly. The soldier is levied, clothed, armed, +exercised, he sleeps, eats, drinks, and marches, all MERELY TO FIGHT AT +THE RIGHT TIME AND PLACE. + +If, therefore, all the threads of military activity terminate in the +combat, we shall grasp them all when we settle the order of the combats. +Only from this order and its execution proceed the effects, never +directly from the conditions preceding them. Now, in the combat all the +action is directed to the DESTRUCTION of the enemy, or rather of +HIS FIGHTING POWERS, for this lies in the conception of combat. The +destruction of the enemy's fighting power is, therefore, always the +means to attain the object of the combat. + +This object may likewise be the mere destruction of the enemy's armed +force; but that is not by any means necessary, and it may be something +quite different. Whenever, for instance, as we have shown, the defeat of +the enemy is not the only means to attain the political object, whenever +there are other objects which may be pursued as the aim in a War, then +it follows of itself that such other objects may become the object of +particular acts of Warfare, and therefore also the object of combats. + +But even those combats which, as subordinate acts, are in the strict +sense devoted to the destruction of the enemy's fighting force need not +have that destruction itself as their first object. + +If we think of the manifold parts of a great armed force, of the number +of circumstances which come into activity when it is employed, then it +is clear that the combat of such a force must also require a manifold +organisation, a subordinating of parts and formation. There may and must +naturally arise for particular parts a number of objects which are not +themselves the destruction of the enemy's armed force, and which, while +they certainly contribute to increase that destruction, do so only in +an indirect manner. If a battalion is ordered to drive the enemy from +a rising ground, or a bridge, &c., then properly the occupation of any +such locality is the real object, the destruction of the enemy's armed +force which takes place only the means or secondary matter. If the enemy +can be driven away merely by a demonstration, the object is attained all +the same; but this hill or bridge is, in point of fact, only required as +a means of increasing the gross amount of loss inflicted on the enemy's +armed force. It is the case on the field of battle, much more must it +be so on the whole theatre of war, where not only one Army is opposed to +another, but one State, one Nation, one whole country to another. +Here the number of possible relations, and consequently possible +combinations, is much greater, the diversity of measures increased, and +by the gradation of objects, each subordinate to another the first means +employed is further apart from the ultimate object. + +It is therefore for many reasons possible that the object of a combat +is not the destruction of the enemy's force, that is, of the force +immediately opposed to us, but that this only appears as a means. But in +all such cases it is no longer a question of complete destruction, for +the combat is here nothing else but a measure of strength--has in +itself no value except only that of the present result, that is, of its +decision. + +But a measuring of strength may be effected in cases where the opposing +sides are very unequal by a mere comparative estimate. In such cases no +fighting will take place, and the weaker will immediately give way. + +If the object of a combat is not always the destruction of the enemy's +forces therein engaged--and if its object can often be attained as well +without the combat taking place at all, by merely making a resolve +to fight, and by the circumstances to which this resolution gives +rise--then that explains how a whole campaign may be carried on with +great activity without the actual combat playing any notable part in it. + +That this may be so military history proves by a hundred examples. +How many of those cases can be justified, that is, without involving a +contradiction and whether some of the celebrities who rose out of them +would stand criticism, we shall leave undecided, for all we have to do +with the matter is to show the possibility of such a course of events in +War. + +We have only one means in War--the battle; but this means, by the +infinite variety of paths in which it may be applied, leads us into all +the different ways which the multiplicity of objects allows of, so that +we seem to have gained nothing; but that is not the case, for from this +unity of means proceeds a thread which assists the study of the subject, +as it runs through the whole web of military activity and holds it +together. + +But we have considered the destruction of the enemy's force as one of +the objects which maybe pursued in War, and left undecided what relative +importance should be given to it amongst other objects. In certain cases +it will depend on circumstances, and as a general question we have left +its value undetermined. We are once more brought back upon it, and we +shall be able to get an insight into the value which must necessarily be +accorded to it. + +The combat is the single activity in War; in the combat the destruction +of the enemy opposed to us is the means to the end; it is so even when +the combat does not actually take place, because in that case there +lies at the root of the decision the supposition at all events that this +destruction is to be regarded as beyond doubt. It follows, +therefore, that the destruction of the enemy's military force is +the foundation-stone of all action in War, the great support of all +combinations, which rest upon it like the arch on its abutments. All +action, therefore, takes place on the supposition that if the solution +by force of arms which lies at its foundation should be realised, it +will be a favourable one. The decision by arms is, for all operations in +War, great and small, what cash payment is in bill transactions. However +remote from each other these relations, however seldom the realisation +may take place, still it can never entirely fail to occur. + +If the decision by arms lies at the foundation of all combinations, then +it follows that the enemy can defeat each of them by gaining a victory +on the field, not merely in the one on which our combination directly +depends, but also in any other encounter, if it is only important +enough; for every important decision by arms--that is, destruction of +the enemy's forces--reacts upon all preceding it, because, like a liquid +element, they tend to bring themselves to a level. + +Thus, the destruction of the enemy's armed force appears, therefore, +always as the superior and more effectual means, to which all others +must give way. + +It is, however, only when there is a supposed equality in all other +conditions that we can ascribe to the destruction of the enemy's armed +force the greater efficacy. It would, therefore, be a great mistake to +draw the conclusion that a blind dash must always gain the victory over +skill and caution. An unskilful attack would lead to the destruction of +our own and not of the enemy's force, and therefore is not what is here +meant. The superior efficacy belongs not to the MEANS but to the END, +and we are only comparing the effect of one realised purpose with the +other. + +If we speak of the destruction of the enemy's armed force, we must +expressly point out that nothing obliges us to confine this idea to the +mere physical force; on the contrary, the moral is necessarily implied +as well, because both in fact are interwoven with each other, even in +the most minute details, and therefore cannot be separated. But it is +just in connection with the inevitable effect which has been referred +to, of a great act of destruction (a great victory) upon all other +decisions by arms, that this moral element is most fluid, if we may +use that expression, and therefore distributes itself the most easily +through all the parts. + +Against the far superior worth which the destruction of the enemy's +armed force has over all other means stands the expense and risk of this +means, and it is only to avoid these that any other means are taken. +That these must be costly stands to reason, for the waste of our own +military forces must, ceteris paribus, always be greater the more our +aim is directed upon the destruction of the enemy's power. + +The danger lies in this, that the greater efficacy which we seek recoils +on ourselves, and therefore has worse consequences in case we fail of +success. + +Other methods are, therefore, less costly when they succeed, less +dangerous when they fail; but in this is necessarily lodged the +condition that they are only opposed to similar ones, that is, that the +enemy acts on the same principle; for if the enemy should choose the way +of a great decision by arms, OUR MEANS MUST ON THAT ACCOUNT BE CHANGED +AGAINST OUR WILL, IN ORDER TO CORRESPOND WITH HIS. Then all depends on +the issue of the act of destruction; but of course it is evident +that, ceteris paribus, in this act we must be at a disadvantage in all +respects because our views and our means had been directed in part +upon other objects, which is not the case with the enemy. Two different +objects of which one is not part, the other exclude each other, and +therefore a force which may be applicable for the one may not serve for +the other. If, therefore, one of two belligerents is determined to seek +the great decision by arms, then he has a high probability of success, +as soon as he is certain his opponent will not take that way, but +follows a different object; and every one who sets before himself any +such other aim only does so in a reasonable manner, provided he acts on +the supposition that his adversary has as little intention as he has of +resorting to the great decision by arms. + +But what we have here said of another direction of views and forces +relates only to other POSITIVE OBJECTS, which we may propose to +ourselves in War, besides the destruction of the enemy's force, not +by any means to the pure defensive, which may be adopted with a view +thereby to exhaust the enemy's forces. In the pure defensive the +positive object is wanting, and therefore, while on the defensive, our +forces cannot at the same time be directed on other objects; they can +only be employed to defeat the intentions of the enemy. + +We have now to consider the opposite of the destruction of the enemy's +armed force, that is to say, the preservation of our own. These two +efforts always go together, as they mutually act and react on each +other; they are integral parts of one and the same view, and we have +only to ascertain what effect is produced when one or the other has the +predominance. The endeavour to destroy the enemy's force has a positive +object, and leads to positive results, of which the final aim is the +conquest of the enemy. The preservation of our own forces has a negative +object, leads therefore to the defeat of the enemy's intentions, that is +to pure resistance, of which the final aim can be nothing more than to +prolong the duration of the contest, so that the enemy shall exhaust +himself in it. + +The effort with a positive object calls into existence the act of +destruction; the effort with the negative object awaits it. + +How far this state of expectation should and may be carried we shall +enter into more particularly in the theory of attack and defence, at the +origin of which we again find ourselves. Here we shall content ourselves +with saying that the awaiting must be no absolute endurance, and that in +the action bound up with it the destruction of the enemy's armed force +engaged in this conflict may be the aim just as well as anything else. +It would therefore be a great error in the fundamental idea to suppose +that the consequence of the negative course is that we are precluded +from choosing the destruction of the enemy's military force as our +object, and must prefer a bloodless solution. The advantage which the +negative effort gives may certainly lead to that, but only at the +risk of its not being the most advisable method, as that question is +dependent on totally different conditions, resting not with ourselves +but with our opponents. This other bloodless way cannot, therefore, be +looked upon at all as the natural means of satisfying our great anxiety +to spare our forces; on the contrary, when circumstances are not +favourable, it would be the means of completely ruining them. Very many +Generals have fallen into this error, and been ruined by it. The only +necessary effect resulting from the superiority of the negative effort +is the delay of the decision, so that the party acting takes refuge in +that way, as it were, in the expectation of the decisive moment. The +consequence of that is generally THE POSTPONEMENT OF THE ACTION as +much as possible in time, and also in space, in so far as space is +in connection with it. If the moment has arrived in which this can no +longer be done without ruinous disadvantage, then the advantage of +the negative must be considered as exhausted, and then comes forward +unchanged the effort for the destruction of the enemy's force, which was +kept back by a counterpoise, but never discarded. + +We have seen, therefore, in the foregoing reflections, that there +are many ways to the aim, that is, to the attainment of the political +object; but that the only means is the combat, and that consequently +everything is subject to a supreme law: which is the DECISION BY ARMS; +that where this is really demanded by one, it is a redress which cannot +be refused by the other; that, therefore, a belligerent who takes any +other way must make sure that his opponent will not take this means of +redress, or his cause may be lost in that supreme court; hence therefore +the destruction of the enemy's armed force, amongst all the objects +which can be pursued in War, appears always as the one which overrules +all others. + +What may be achieved by combinations of another kind in War we shall +only learn in the sequel, and naturally only by degrees. We content +ourselves here with acknowledging in general their possibility, as +something pointing to the difference between the reality and the +conception, and to the influence of particular circumstances. But we +could not avoid showing at once that the BLOODY SOLUTION OF THE CRISIS, +the effort for the destruction of the enemy's force, is the firstborn +son of War. If when political objects are unimportant, motives weak, the +excitement of forces small, a cautious commander tries in all kinds +of ways, without great crises and bloody solutions, to twist himself +skilfully into a peace through the characteristic weaknesses of his +enemy in the field and in the Cabinet, we have no right to find +fault with him, if the premises on which he acts are well founded and +justified by success; still we must require him to remember that he only +travels on forbidden tracks, where the God of War may surprise him; that +he ought always to keep his eye on the enemy, in order that he may not +have to defend himself with a dress rapier if the enemy takes up a sharp +sword. + +The consequences of the nature of War, how ends and means act in it, how +in the modifications of reality it deviates sometimes more, sometimes +less, from its strict original conception, fluctuating backwards and +forwards, yet always remaining under that strict conception as under a +supreme law: all this we must retain before us, and bear constantly +in mind in the consideration of each of the succeeding subjects, if we +would rightly comprehend their true relations and proper importance, and +not become involved incessantly in the most glaring contradictions with +the reality, and at last with our own selves. + + + +CHAPTER III. THE GENIUS FOR WAR + +EVERY special calling in life, if it is to be followed with success, +requires peculiar qualifications of understanding and soul. Where +these are of a high order, and manifest themselves by extraordinary +achievements, the mind to which they belong is termed GENIUS. + +We know very well that this word is used in many significations which +are very different both in extent and nature, and that with many of +these significations it is a very difficult task to define the essence +of Genius; but as we neither profess to be philosopher nor grammarian, +we must be allowed to keep to the meaning usual in ordinary language, +and to understand by "genius" a very high mental capacity for certain +employments. + +We wish to stop for a moment over this faculty and dignity of the mind, +in order to vindicate its title, and to explain more fully the meaning +of the conception. But we shall not dwell on that (genius) which has +obtained its title through a very great talent, on genius properly so +called, that is a conception which has no defined limits. What we have +to do is to bring under consideration every common tendency of the +powers of the mind and soul towards the business of War, the whole of +which common tendencies we may look upon as the ESSENCE OF MILITARY +GENIUS. We say "common," for just therein consists military genius, +that it is not one single quality bearing upon War, as, for instance, +courage, while other qualities of mind and soul are wanting or have a +direction which is unserviceable for War, but that it is AN HARMONIOUS +ASSOCIATION OF POWERS, in which one or other may predominate, but none +must be in opposition. + +If every combatant required to be more or less endowed with military +genius, then our armies would be very weak; for as it implies a peculiar +bent of the intelligent powers, therefore it can only rarely be found +where the mental powers of a people are called into requisition and +trained in many different ways. The fewer the employments followed by a +Nation, the more that of arms predominates, so much the more prevalent +will military genius also be found. But this merely applies to its +prevalence, by no means to its degree, for that depends on the general +state of intellectual culture in the country. If we look at a wild, +warlike race, then we find a warlike spirit in individuals much more +common than in a civilised people; for in the former almost every +warrior possesses it, whilst in the civilised whole, masses are only +carried away by it from necessity, never by inclination. But amongst +uncivilised people we never find a really great General, and very seldom +what we can properly call a military genius, because that requires +a development of the intelligent powers which cannot be found in an +uncivilised state. That a civilised people may also have a warlike +tendency and development is a matter of course; and the more this is +general, the more frequently also will military spirit be found in +individuals in their armies. Now as this coincides in such case with the +higher degree of civilisation, therefore from such nations have issued +forth the most brilliant military exploits, as the Romans and the French +have exemplified. The greatest names in these and in all other nations +that have been renowned in War belong strictly to epochs of higher +culture. + +From this we may infer how great a share the intelligent powers have +in superior military genius. We shall now look more closely into this +point. + +War is the province of danger, and therefore courage above all things is +the first quality of a warrior. + +Courage is of two kinds: first, physical courage, or courage in presence +of danger to the person; and next, moral courage, or courage before +responsibility, whether it be before the judgment-seat of external +authority, or of the inner power, the conscience. We only speak here of +the first. + +Courage before danger to the person, again, is of two kinds. First, it +may be indifference to danger, whether proceeding from the organism of +the individual, contempt of death, or habit: in any of these cases it is +to be regarded as a permanent condition. + +Secondly, courage may proceed from positive motives, such as personal +pride, patriotism, enthusiasm of any kind. In this case courage is not +so much a normal condition as an impulse. + +We may conceive that the two kinds act differently. The first kind is +more certain, because it has become a second nature, never forsakes the +man; the second often leads him farther. In the first there is more +of firmness, in the second, of boldness. The first leaves the judgment +cooler, the second raises its power at times, but often bewilders it. +The two combined make up the most perfect kind of courage. + +War is the province of physical exertion and suffering. In order not to +be completely overcome by them, a certain strength of body and mind is +required, which, either natural or acquired, produces indifference to +them. With these qualifications, under the guidance of simply a sound +understanding, a man is at once a proper instrument for War; and these +are the qualifications so generally to be met with amongst wild and +half-civilised tribes. If we go further in the demands which War makes +on it, then we find the powers of the understanding predominating. War +is the province of uncertainty: three-fourths of those things upon which +action in War must be calculated, are hidden more or less in the clouds +of great uncertainty. Here, then, above all a fine and penetrating mind +is called for, to search out the truth by the tact of its judgment. + +An average intellect may, at one time, perhaps hit upon this truth by +accident; an extraordinary courage, at another, may compensate for the +want of this tact; but in the majority of cases the average result will +always bring to light the deficient understanding. + +War is the province of chance. In no sphere of human activity is such a +margin to be left for this intruder, because none is so much in constant +contact with him on all sides. He increases the uncertainty of every +circumstance, and deranges the course of events. + +From this uncertainty of all intelligence and suppositions, this +continual interposition of chance, the actor in War constantly finds +things different from his expectations; and this cannot fail to have an +influence on his plans, or at least on the presumptions connected +with these plans. If this influence is so great as to render the +pre-determined plan completely nugatory, then, as a rule, a new one must +be substituted in its place; but at the moment the necessary data are +often wanting for this, because in the course of action circumstances +press for immediate decision, and allow no time to look about for fresh +data, often not enough for mature consideration. + +But it more often happens that the correction of one premise, and the +knowledge of chance events which have arisen, are not sufficient to +overthrow our plans completely, but only suffice to produce hesitation. +Our knowledge of circumstances has increased, but our uncertainty, +instead of having diminished, has only increased. The reason of this is, +that we do not gain all our experience at once, but by degrees; thus our +determinations continue to be assailed incessantly by fresh experience; +and the mind, if we may use the expression, must always be "under arms." + +Now, if it is to get safely through this perpetual conflict with the +unexpected, two qualities are indispensable: in the first place an +intellect which, even in the midst of this intense obscurity, is not +without some traces of inner light, which lead to the truth, and then +the courage to follow this faint light. The first is figuratively +expressed by the French phrase coup d'oeil. The other is resolution. +As the battle is the feature in War to which attention was originally +chiefly directed, and as time and space are important elements in it, +more particularly when cavalry with their rapid decisions were the +chief arm, the idea of rapid and correct decision related in the first +instance to the estimation of these two elements, and to denote the +idea an expression was adopted which actually only points to a correct +judgment by eye. Many teachers of the Art of War then gave this limited +signification as the definition of coup d'oeil. But it is undeniable +that all able decisions formed in the moment of action soon came to be +understood by the expression, as, for instance, the hitting upon the +right point of attack, &c. It is, therefore, not only the physical, but +more frequently the mental eye which is meant in coup d'oeil. Naturally, +the expression, like the thing, is always more in its place in the field +of tactics: still, it must not be wanting in strategy, inasmuch as in it +rapid decisions are often necessary. If we strip this conception of that +which the expression has given it of the over-figurative and restricted, +then it amounts simply to the rapid discovery of a truth which to the +ordinary mind is either not visible at all or only becomes so after long +examination and reflection. + +Resolution is an act of courage in single instances, and if it becomes a +characteristic trait, it is a habit of the mind. But here we do not +mean courage in face of bodily danger, but in face of responsibility, +therefore, to a certain extent against moral danger. This has been +often called courage d'esprit, on the ground that it springs from the +understanding; nevertheless, it is no act of the understanding on +that account; it is an act of feeling. Mere intelligence is still not +courage, for we often see the cleverest people devoid of resolution. The +mind must, therefore, first awaken the feeling of courage, and then be +guided and supported by it, because in momentary emergencies the man is +swayed more by his feelings than his thoughts. + +We have assigned to resolution the office of removing the torments of +doubt, and the dangers of delay, when there are no sufficient motives +for guidance. Through the unscrupulous use of language which is +prevalent, this term is often applied to the mere propensity to daring, +to bravery, boldness, or temerity. But, when there are SUFFICIENT +MOTIVES in the man, let them be objective or subjective, true or false, +we have no right to speak of his resolution; for, when we do so, we put +ourselves in his place, and we throw into the scale doubts which did not +exist with him. + +Here there is no question of anything but of strength and weakness. We +are not pedantic enough to dispute with the use of language about this +little misapplication, our observation is only intended to remove wrong +objections. + +This resolution now, which overcomes the state of doubting, can only be +called forth by the intellect, and, in fact, by a peculiar tendency of +the same. We maintain that the mere union of a superior understanding +and the necessary feelings are not sufficient to make up resolution. +There are persons who possess the keenest perception for the most +difficult problems, who are also not fearful of responsibility, and yet +in cases of difficulty cannot come to a resolution. Their courage and +their sagacity operate independently of each other, do not give each +other a hand, and on that account do not produce resolution as a result. +The forerunner of resolution is an act of the mind making evident +the necessity of venturing, and thus influencing the will. This quite +peculiar direction of the mind, which conquers every other fear in man +by the fear of wavering or doubting, is what makes up resolution +in strong minds; therefore, in our opinion, men who have little +intelligence can never be resolute. They may act without hesitation +under perplexing circumstances, but then they act without reflection. +Now, of course, when a man acts without reflection he cannot be at +variance with himself by doubts, and such a mode of action may now +and then lead to the right point; but we say now as before, it is the +average result which indicates the existence of military genius. Should +our assertion appear extraordinary to any one, because he knows many a +resolute hussar officer who is no deep thinker, we must remind him that +the question here is about a peculiar direction of the mind, and not +about great thinking powers. + +We believe, therefore, that resolution is indebted to a special +direction of the mind for its existence, a direction which belongs to +a strong head rather than to a brilliant one. In corroboration of this +genealogy of resolution we may add that there have been many instances +of men who have shown the greatest resolution in an inferior rank, and +have lost it in a higher position. While, on the one hand, they are +obliged to resolve, on the other they see the dangers of a wrong +decision, and as they are surrounded with things new to them, their +understanding loses its original force, and they become only the more +timid the more they become aware of the danger of the irresolution into +which they have fallen, and the more they have formerly been in the +habit of acting on the spur of the moment. + + +From the coup d'oeil and resolution we are naturally to speak of its +kindred quality, PRESENCE OF MIND, which in a region of the unexpected +like War must act a great part, for it is indeed nothing but a great +conquest over the unexpected. As we admire presence of mind in a +pithy answer to anything said unexpectedly, so we admire it in a ready +expedient on sudden danger. Neither the answer nor the expedient need be +in themselves extraordinary, if they only hit the point; for that which +as the result of mature reflection would be nothing unusual, therefore +insignificant in its impression on us, may as an instantaneous act of +the mind produce a pleasing impression. The expression "presence of +mind" certainly denotes very fitly the readiness and rapidity of the +help rendered by the mind. + +Whether this noble quality of a man is to be ascribed more to the +peculiarity of his mind or to the equanimity of his feelings, depends +on the nature of the case, although neither of the two can be entirely +wanting. A telling repartee bespeaks rather a ready wit, a ready +expedient on sudden danger implies more particularly a well-balanced +mind. + +If we take a general view of the four elements composing the atmosphere +in which War moves, of DANGER, PHYSICAL EFFORT, UNCERTAINTY, and CHANCE, +it is easy to conceive that a great force of mind and understanding is +requisite to be able to make way with safety and success amongst +such opposing elements, a force which, according to the different +modifications arising out of circumstances, we find termed by military +writers and annalists as ENERGY, FIRMNESS, STAUNCHNESS, STRENGTH OF MIND +AND CHARACTER. All these manifestations of the heroic nature might be +regarded as one and the same power of volition, modified according to +circumstances; but nearly related as these things are to each other, +still they are not one and the same, and it is desirable for us to +distinguish here a little more closely at least the action of the powers +of the soul in relation to them. + +In the first place, to make the conception clear, it is essential to +observe that the weight, burden, resistance, or whatever it may be +called, by which that force of the soul in the General is brought to +light, is only in a very small measure the enemy's activity, the enemy's +resistance, the enemy's action directly. The enemy's activity only +affects the General directly in the first place in relation to his +person, without disturbing his action as Commander. If the enemy, +instead of two hours, resists for four, the Commander instead of +two hours is four hours in danger; this is a quantity which plainly +diminishes the higher the rank of the Commander. What is it for one in +the post of Commander-in-Chief? It is nothing. + +Secondly, although the opposition offered by the enemy has a direct +effect on the Commander through the loss of means arising from prolonged +resistance, and the responsibility connected with that loss, and +his force of will is first tested and called forth by these anxious +considerations, still we maintain that this is not the heaviest burden +by far which he has to bear, because he has only himself to settle with. +All the other effects of the enemy's resistance act directly upon the +combatants under his command, and through them react upon him. + +As long as his men full of good courage fight with zeal and spirit, it +is seldom necessary for the Chief to show great energy of purpose in the +pursuit of his object. But as soon as difficulties arise--and that must +always happen when great results are at stake--then things no longer +move on of themselves like a well-oiled machine, the machine itself then +begins to offer resistance, and to overcome this the Commander must have +a great force of will. By this resistance we must not exactly suppose +disobedience and murmurs, although these are frequent enough with +particular individuals; it is the whole feeling of the dissolution of +all physical and moral power, it is the heartrending sight of the bloody +sacrifice which the Commander has to contend with in himself, and +then in all others who directly or indirectly transfer to him their +impressions, feelings, anxieties, and desires. As the forces in one +individual after another become prostrated, and can no longer be excited +and supported by an effort of his own will, the whole inertia of the +mass gradually rests its weight on the Will of the Commander: by the +spark in his breast, by the light of his spirit, the spark of purpose, +the light of hope, must be kindled afresh in others: in so far only +as he is equal to this, he stands above the masses and continues to be +their master; whenever that influence ceases, and his own spirit is +no longer strong enough to revive the spirit of all others, the masses +drawing him down with them sink into the lower region of animal nature, +which shrinks from danger and knows not shame. These are the weights +which the courage and intelligent faculties of the military Commander +have to overcome if he is to make his name illustrious. They increase +with the masses, and therefore, if the forces in question are to +continue equal to the burden, they must rise in proportion to the height +of the station. + +Energy in action expresses the strength of the motive through which the +action is excited, let the motive have its origin in a conviction of +the understanding, or in an impulse. But the latter can hardly ever be +wanting where great force is to show itself. + +Of all the noble feelings which fill the human heart in the exciting +tumult of battle, none, we must admit, are so powerful and constant +as the soul's thirst for honour and renown, which the German language +treats so unfairly and tends to depreciate by the unworthy associations +in the words Ehrgeiz (greed of honour) and Ruhmsucht (hankering after +glory). No doubt it is just in War that the abuse of these proud +aspirations of the soul must bring upon the human race the most shocking +outrages, but by their origin they are certainly to be counted amongst +the noblest feelings which belong to human nature, and in War they are +the vivifying principle which gives the enormous body a spirit. Although +other feelings may be more general in their influence, and many of +them--such as love of country, fanaticism, revenge, enthusiasm of every +kind--may seem to stand higher, the thirst for honour and renown still +remains indispensable. Those other feelings may rouse the great masses +in general, and excite them more powerfully, but they do not give +the Leader a desire to will more than others, which is an essential +requisite in his position if he is to make himself distinguished in it. +They do not, like a thirst for honour, make the military act specially +the property of the Leader, which he strives to turn to the best +account; where he ploughs with toil, sows with care, that he may reap +plentifully. It is through these aspirations we have been speaking of +in Commanders, from the highest to the lowest, this sort of energy, +this spirit of emulation, these incentives, that the action of armies is +chiefly animated and made successful. And now as to that which specially +concerns the head of all, we ask, Has there ever been a great +Commander destitute of the love of honour, or is such a character even +conceivable? + +FIRMNESS denotes the resistance of the will in relation to the force of +a single blow, STAUNCHNESS in relation to a continuance of blows. Close +as is the analogy between the two, and often as the one is used in place +of the other, still there is a notable difference between them which +cannot be mistaken, inasmuch as firmness against a single powerful +impression may have its root in the mere strength of a feeling, but +staunchness must be supported rather by the understanding, for the +greater the duration of an action the more systematic deliberation is +connected with it, and from this staunchness partly derives its power. + +If we now turn to STRENGTH OF MIND OR SOUL, then the first question is, +What are we to understand thereby? + +Plainly it is not vehement expressions of feeling, nor easily excited +passions, for that would be contrary to all the usage of language, +but the power of listening to reason in the midst of the most intense +excitement, in the storm of the most violent passions. Should this power +depend on strength of understanding alone? We doubt it. The fact that +there are men of the greatest intellect who cannot command themselves +certainly proves nothing to the contrary, for we might say that it +perhaps requires an understanding of a powerful rather than of a +comprehensive nature; but we believe we shall be nearer the truth if +we assume that the power of submitting oneself to the control of the +understanding, even in moments of the most violent excitement of the +feelings, that power which we call SELF-COMMAND, has its root in the +heart itself. It is, in point of fact, another feeling, which in strong +minds balances the excited passions without destroying them; and it is +only through this equilibrium that the mastery of the understanding is +secured. This counterpoise is nothing but a sense of the dignity of man, +that noblest pride, that deeply-seated desire of the soul always to act +as a being endued with understanding and reason. We may therefore say +that a strong mind is one which does not lose its balance even under the +most violent excitement. + +If we cast a glance at the variety to be observed in the human character +in respect to feeling, we find, first, some people who have very little +excitability, who are called phlegmatic or indolent. + +Secondly, some very excitable, but whose feelings still never overstep +certain limits, and who are therefore known as men full of feeling, but +sober-minded. + +Thirdly, those who are very easily roused, whose feelings blaze up +quickly and violently like gunpowder, but do not last. + +Fourthly, and lastly, those who cannot be moved by slight causes, and +who generally are not to be roused suddenly, but only gradually; but +whose feelings become very powerful and are much more lasting. These are +men with strong passions, lying deep and latent. + +This difference of character lies probably close on the confines of +the physical powers which move the human organism, and belongs to that +amphibious organisation which we call the nervous system, which appears +to be partly material, partly spiritual. With our weak philosophy, we +shall not proceed further in this mysterious field. But it is important +for us to spend a moment over the effects which these different natures +have on, action in War, and to see how far a great strength of mind is +to be expected from them. + +Indolent men cannot easily be thrown out of their equanimity, but we +cannot certainly say there is strength of mind where there is a want of +all manifestation of power. + +At the same time, it is not to be denied that such men have a certain +peculiar aptitude for War, on account of their constant equanimity. +They often want the positive motive to action, impulse, and consequently +activity, but they are not apt to throw things into disorder. + +The peculiarity of the second class is that they are easily excited +to act on trifling grounds, but in great matters they are easily +overwhelmed. Men of this kind show great activity in helping an +unfortunate individual, but by the distress of a whole Nation they are +only inclined to despond, not roused to action. + +Such people are not deficient in either activity or equanimity in +War; but they will never accomplish anything great unless a great +intellectual force furnishes the motive, and it is very seldom that a +strong, independent mind is combined with such a character. + +Excitable, inflammable feelings are in themselves little suited for +practical life, and therefore they are not very fit for War. They have +certainly the advantage of strong impulses, but that cannot long sustain +them. At the same time, if the excitability in such men takes the +direction of courage, or a sense of honour, they may often be very +useful in inferior positions in War, because the action in War over +which commanders in inferior positions have control is generally of +shorter duration. Here one courageous resolution, one effervescence +of the forces of the soul, will often suffice. A brave attack, a +soul-stirring hurrah, is the work of a few moments, whilst a brave +contest on the battle-field is the work of a day, and a campaign the +work of a year. + +Owing to the rapid movement of their feelings, it is doubly difficult +for men of this description to preserve equilibrium of the mind; +therefore they frequently lose head, and that is the worst phase in +their nature as respects the conduct of War. But it would be contrary to +experience to maintain that very excitable spirits can never preserve +a steady equilibrium--that is to say, that they cannot do so even under +the strongest excitement. Why should they not have the sentiment of +self-respect, for, as a rule, they are men of a noble nature? This +feeling is seldom wanting in them, but it has not time to produce an +effect. After an outburst they suffer most from a feeling of inward +humiliation. If through education, self-observance, and experience of +life, they have learned, sooner or later, the means of being on their +guard, so that at the moment of powerful excitement they are conscious +betimes of the counteracting force within their own breasts, then even +such men may have great strength of mind. + +Lastly, those who are difficult to move, but on that account susceptible +of very deep feelings, men who stand in the same relation to the +preceding as red heat to a flame, are the best adapted by means of +their Titanic strength to roll away the enormous masses by which we may +figuratively represent the difficulties which beset command in War. The +effect of their feelings is like the movement of a great body, slower, +but more irresistible. + +Although such men are not so likely to be suddenly surprised by their +feelings and carried away so as to be afterwards ashamed of themselves, +like the preceding, still it would be contrary to experience to believe +that they can never lose their equanimity, or be overcome by blind +passion; on the contrary, this must always happen whenever the noble +pride of self-control is wanting, or as often as it has not sufficient +weight. We see examples of this most frequently in men of noble minds +belonging to savage nations, where the low degree of mental cultivation +favours always the dominance of the passions. But even amongst the most +civilised classes in civilised States, life is full of examples of this +kind--of men carried away by the violence of their passions, like the +poacher of old chained to the stag in the forest. + +We therefore say once more a strong mind is not one that is merely +susceptible of strong excitement, but one which can maintain its +serenity under the most powerful excitement, so that, in spite of the +storm in the breast, the perception and judgment can act with perfect +freedom, like the needle of the compass in the storm-tossed ship. + +By the term STRENGTH OF CHARACTER, or simply CHARACTER, is denoted +tenacity of conviction, let it be the result of our own or of +others' views, and whether they are principles, opinions, momentary +inspirations, or any kind of emanations of the understanding; but +this kind of firmness certainly cannot manifest itself if the views +themselves are subject to frequent change. This frequent change need +not be the consequence of external influences; it may proceed from +the continuous activity of our own mind, in which case it indicates a +characteristic unsteadiness of mind. Evidently we should not say of +a man who changes his views every moment, however much the motives of +change may originate with himself, that he has character. Only those +men, therefore, can be said to have this quality whose conviction is +very constant, either because it is deeply rooted and clear in itself, +little liable to alteration, or because, as in the case of indolent men, +there is a want of mental activity, and therefore a want of motives to +change; or lastly, because an explicit act of the will, derived from an +imperative maxim of the understanding, refuses any change of opinion up +to a certain point. + +Now in War, owing to the many and powerful impressions to which the mind +is exposed, and in the uncertainty of all knowledge and of all science, +more things occur to distract a man from the road he has entered upon, +to make him doubt himself and others, than in any other human activity. + +The harrowing sight of danger and suffering easily leads to the feelings +gaining ascendency over the conviction of the understanding; and in the +twilight which surrounds everything a deep clear view is so difficult +that a change of opinion is more conceivable and more pardonable. It is, +at all times, only conjecture or guesses at truth which we have to act +upon. This is why differences of opinion are nowhere so great as in War, +and the stream of impressions acting counter to one's own convictions +never ceases to flow. Even the greatest impassibility of mind is hardly +proof against them, because the impressions are powerful in their +nature, and always act at the same time upon the feelings. + +When the discernment is clear and deep, none but general principles and +views of action from a high standpoint can be the result; and on +these principles the opinion in each particular case immediately under +consideration lies, as it were, at anchor. But to keep to these results +of bygone reflection, in opposition to the stream of opinions and +phenomena which the present brings with it, is just the difficulty. +Between the particular case and the principle there is often a +wide space which cannot always be traversed on a visible chain of +conclusions, and where a certain faith in self is necessary and a +certain amount of scepticism is serviceable. Here often nothing else +will help us but an imperative maxim which, independent of reflection, +at once controls it: that maxim is, in all doubtful cases to adhere to +the first opinion, and not to give it up until a clear conviction +forces us to do so. We must firmly believe in the superior authority of +well-tried maxims, and under the dazzling influence of momentary events +not forget that their value is of an inferior stamp. By this preference +which in doubtful cases we give to first convictions, by adherence to +the same our actions acquire that stability and consistency which make +up what is called character. + +It is easy to see how essential a well-balanced mind is to strength of +character; therefore men of strong minds generally have a great deal of +character. + +Force of character leads us to a spurious variety of it--OBSTINACY. + +It is often very difficult in concrete cases to say where the one ends +and the other begins; on the other hand, it does not seem difficult to +determine the difference in idea. + +Obstinacy is no fault of the understanding; we use the term as denoting +a resistance against our better judgment, and it would be inconsistent +to charge that to the understanding, as the understanding is the +power of judgment. Obstinacy is A FAULT OF THE FEELINGS or heart. This +inflexibility of will, this impatience of contradiction, have their +origin only in a particular kind of egotism, which sets above every +other pleasure that of governing both self and others by its own +mind alone. We should call it a kind of vanity, were it not decidedly +something better. Vanity is satisfied with mere show, but obstinacy +rests upon the enjoyment of the thing. + +We say, therefore, force of character degenerates into obstinacy +whenever the resistance to opposing judgments proceeds not from better +convictions or a reliance upon a trustworthy maxim, but from a feeling +of opposition. If this definition, as we have already admitted, is of +little assistance practically, still it will prevent obstinacy from +being considered merely force of character intensified, whilst it is +something essentially different--something which certainly lies close +to it and is cognate to it, but is at the same time so little an +intensification of it that there are very obstinate men who from want of +understanding have very little force of character. + +Having in these high attributes of a great military Commander made +ourselves acquainted with those qualities in which heart and head +co-operate, we now come to a speciality of military activity which +perhaps may be looked upon as the most marked if it is not the most +important, and which only makes a demand on the power of the mind +without regard to the forces of feelings. It is the connection which +exists between War and country or ground. + +This connection is, in the first place, a permanent condition of War, +for it is impossible to imagine our organised Armies effecting any +operation otherwise than in some given space; it is, secondly, of the +most decisive importance, because it modifies, at times completely +alters, the action of all forces; thirdly, while on the one hand it +often concerns the most minute features of locality, on the other it may +apply to immense tracts of country. + +In this manner a great peculiarity is given to the effect of this +connection of War with country and ground. If we think of other +occupations of man which have a relation to these objects, on +horticulture, agriculture, on building houses and hydraulic works, on +mining, on the chase, and forestry, they are all confined within very +limited spaces which may be soon explored with sufficient exactness. +But the Commander in War must commit the business he has in hand to a +corresponding space which his eye cannot survey, which the keenest zeal +cannot always explore, and with which, owing to the constant changes +taking place, he can also seldom become properly acquainted. Certainly +the enemy generally is in the same situation; still, in the first place, +the difficulty, although common to both, is not the less a difficulty, +and he who by talent and practice overcomes it will have a great +advantage on his side; secondly, this equality of the difficulty on both +sides is merely an abstract supposition which is rarely realised in the +particular case, as one of the two opponents (the defensive) usually +knows much more of the locality than his adversary. + +This very peculiar difficulty must be overcome by a natural mental gift +of a special kind which is known by the--too restricted--term of +Orisinn sense of locality. It is the power of quickly forming a correct +geometrical idea of any portion of country, and consequently of being +able to find one's place in it exactly at any time. This is plainly +an act of the imagination. The perception no doubt is formed partly by +means of the physical eye, partly by the mind, which fills up what is +wanting with ideas derived from knowledge and experience, and out of the +fragments visible to the physical eye forms a whole; but that this whole +should present itself vividly to the reason, should become a picture, a +mentally drawn map, that this picture should be fixed, that the details +should never again separate themselves--all that can only be effected +by the mental faculty which we call imagination. If some great poet +or painter should feel hurt that we require from his goddess such an +office; if he shrugs his shoulders at the notion that a sharp gamekeeper +must necessarily excel in imagination, we readily grant that we only +speak here of imagination in a limited sense, of its service in a really +menial capacity. But, however slight this service, still it must be +the work of that natural gift, for if that gift is wanting, it would +be difficult to imagine things plainly in all the completeness of the +visible. That a good memory is a great assistance we freely allow, but +whether memory is to be considered as an independent faculty of the mind +in this case, or whether it is just that power of imagination which here +fixes these things better on the memory, we leave undecided, as in many +respects it seems difficult upon the whole to conceive these two mental +powers apart from each other. + +That practice and mental acuteness have much to do with it is not to +be denied. Puysegur, the celebrated Quartermaster-General of the famous +Luxemburg, used to say that he had very little confidence in himself +in this respect at first, because if he had to fetch the parole from a +distance he always lost his way. + +It is natural that scope for the exercise of this talent should increase +along with rank. If the hussar and rifleman in command of a patrol must +know well all the highways and byways, and if for that a few marks, a +few limited powers of observation, are sufficient, the Chief of an Army +must make himself familiar with the general geographical features of a +province and of a country; must always have vividly before his eyes +the direction of the roads, rivers, and hills, without at the same time +being able to dispense with the narrower "sense of locality" Orisinn. +No doubt, information of various kinds as to objects in general, maps, +books, memoirs, and for details the assistance of his Staff, are a great +help to him; but it is nevertheless certain that if he has himself a +talent for forming an ideal picture of a country quickly and distinctly, +it lends to his action an easier and firmer step, saves him from a +certain mental helplessness, and makes him less dependent on others. + +If this talent then is to be ascribed to imagination, it is also almost +the only service which military activity requires from that erratic +goddess, whose influence is more hurtful than useful in other respects. + +We think we have now passed in review those manifestations of the powers +of mind and soul which military activity requires from human nature. +Everywhere intellect appears as an essential co-operative force; and +thus we can understand how the work of War, although so plain and simple +in its effects, can never be conducted with distinguished success by +people without distinguished powers of the understanding. + +When we have reached this view, then we need no longer look upon such a +natural idea as the turning an enemy's position, which has been done a +thousand times, and a hundred other similar conceptions, as the result +of a great effort of genius. + +Certainly one is accustomed to regard the plain honest soldier as the +very opposite of the man of reflection, full of inventions and ideas, or +of the brilliant spirit shining in the ornaments of refined education of +every kind. This antithesis is also by no means devoid of truth; but it +does not show that the efficiency of the soldier consists only in his +courage, and that there is no particular energy and capacity of the +brain required in addition to make a man merely what is called a true +soldier. We must again repeat that there is nothing more common than to +hear of men losing their energy on being raised to a higher position, +to which they do not feel themselves equal; but we must also remind our +readers that we are speaking of pre-eminent services, of such as give +renown in the branch of activity to which they belong. Each grade of +command in War therefore forms its own stratum of requisite capacity of +fame and honour. + +An immense space lies between a General--that is, one at the head of a +whole War, or of a theatre of War--and his Second in Command, for the +simple reason that the latter is in more immediate subordination to a +superior authority and supervision, consequently is restricted to a more +limited sphere of independent thought. This is why common opinion sees +no room for the exercise of high talent except in high places, and looks +upon an ordinary capacity as sufficient for all beneath: this is why +people are rather inclined to look upon a subordinate General grown grey +in the service, and in whom constant discharge of routine duties has +produced a decided poverty of mind, as a man of failing intellect, and, +with all respect for his bravery, to laugh at his simplicity. It is +not our object to gain for these brave men a better lot--that would +contribute nothing to their efficiency, and little to their happiness; +we only wish to represent things as they are, and to expose the error +of believing that a mere bravo without intellect can make himself +distinguished in War. + +As we consider distinguished talents requisite for those who are to +attain distinction, even in inferior positions, it naturally follows +that we think highly of those who fill with renown the place of Second +in Command of an Army; and their seeming simplicity of character +as compared with a polyhistor, with ready men of business, or with +councillors of state, must not lead us astray as to the superior nature +of their intellectual activity. It happens sometimes that men import +the fame gained in an inferior position into a higher one, without in +reality deserving it in the new position; and then if they are not much +employed, and therefore not much exposed to the risk of showing their +weak points, the judgment does not distinguish very exactly what degree +of fame is really due to them; and thus such men are often the occasion +of too low an estimate being formed of the characteristics required to +shine in certain situations. + +For each station, from the lowest upwards, to render distinguished +services in War, there must be a particular genius. But the title of +genius, history and the judgment of posterity only confer, in +general, on those minds which have shone in the highest rank, that of +Commanders-in-Chief. The reason is that here, in point of fact, the +demand on the reasoning and intellectual powers generally is much +greater. + +To conduct a whole War, or its great acts, which we call campaigns, to +a successful termination, there must be an intimate knowledge of State +policy in its higher relations. The conduct of the War and the policy +of the State here coincide, and the General becomes at the same time the +Statesman. + +We do not give Charles XII. the name of a great genius, because he could +not make the power of his sword subservient to a higher judgment and +philosophy--could not attain by it to a glorious object. We do not give +that title to Henry IV. (of France), because he did not live long +enough to set at rest the relations of different States by his military +activity, and to occupy himself in that higher field where noble +feelings and a chivalrous disposition have less to do in mastering the +enemy than in overcoming internal dissension. + +In order that the reader may appreciate all that must be comprehended +and judged of correctly at a glance by a General, we refer to the first +chapter. We say the General becomes a Statesman, but he must not cease +to be the General. He takes into view all the relations of the State on +the one hand; on the other, he must know exactly what he can do with the +means at his disposal. + +As the diversity, and undefined limits, of all the circumstances bring a +great number of factors into consideration in War, as the most of these +factors can only be estimated according to probability, therefore, if +the Chief of an Army does not bring to bear upon them a mind with an +intuitive perception of the truth, a confusion of ideas and views must +take place, in the midst of which the judgment will become bewildered. +In this sense, Buonaparte was right when he said that many of the +questions which come before a General for decision would make problems +for a mathematical calculation not unworthy of the powers of Newton or +Euler. + +What is here required from the higher powers of the mind is a sense of +unity, and a judgment raised to such a compass as to give the mind an +extraordinary faculty of vision which in its range allays and sets aside +a thousand dim notions which an ordinary understanding could only bring +to light with great effort, and over which it would exhaust itself. But +this higher activity of the mind, this glance of genius, would still not +become matter of history if the qualities of temperament and character +of which we have treated did not give it their support. + +Truth alone is but a weak motive of action with men, and hence there is +always a great difference between knowing and action, between science +and art. The man receives the strongest impulse to action through the +feelings, and the most powerful succour, if we may use the expression, +through those faculties of heart and mind which we have considered under +the terms of resolution, firmness, perseverance, and force of character. + +If, however, this elevated condition of heart and mind in the General +did not manifest itself in the general effects resulting from it, and +could only be accepted on trust and faith, then it would rarely become +matter of history. + +All that becomes known of the course of events in War is usually very +simple, and has a great sameness in appearance; no one on the mere +relation of such events perceives the difficulties connected with them +which had to be overcome. It is only now and again, in the memoirs of +Generals or of those in their confidence, or by reason of some special +historical inquiry directed to a particular circumstance, that a portion +of the many threads composing the whole web is brought to light. The +reflections, mental doubts, and conflicts which precede the execution +of great acts are purposely concealed because they affect political +interests, or the recollection of them is accidentally lost because they +have been looked upon as mere scaffolding which had to be removed on the +completion of the building. + +If, now, in conclusion, without venturing upon a closer definition of +the higher powers of the soul, we should admit a distinction in +the intelligent faculties themselves according to the common ideas +established by language, and ask ourselves what kind of mind comes +closest to military genius, then a look at the subject as well as at +experience will tell us that searching rather than inventive minds, +comprehensive minds rather than such as have a special bent, cool rather +than fiery heads, are those to which in time of War we should prefer to +trust the welfare of our women and children, the honour and the safety +of our fatherland. + + + +CHAPTER IV. OF DANGER IN WAR + +USUALLY before we have learnt what danger really is, we form an idea +of it which is rather attractive than repulsive. In the intoxication of +enthusiasm, to fall upon the enemy at the charge--who cares then about +bullets and men falling? To throw oneself, blinded by excitement for a +moment, against cold death, uncertain whether we or another shall escape +him, and all this close to the golden gate of victory, close to the rich +fruit which ambition thirsts for--can this be difficult? It will not be +difficult, and still less will it appear so. But such moments, which, +however, are not the work of a single pulse-beat, as is supposed, but +rather like doctors' draughts, must be taken diluted and spoilt by +mixture with time--such moments, we say, are but few. + +Let us accompany the novice to the battle-field. As we approach, the +thunder of the cannon becoming plainer and plainer is soon followed by +the howling of shot, which attracts the attention of the inexperienced. +Balls begin to strike the ground close to us, before and behind. We +hasten to the hill where stands the General and his numerous Staff. Here +the close striking of the cannon balls and the bursting of shells is so +frequent that the seriousness of life makes itself visible through the +youthful picture of imagination. Suddenly some one known to us +falls--a shell strikes amongst the crowd and causes some involuntary +movements--we begin to feel that we are no longer perfectly at ease and +collected; even the bravest is at least to some degree confused. Now, a +step farther into the battle which is raging before us like a scene in +a theatre, we get to the nearest General of Division; here ball follows +ball, and the noise of our own guns increases the confusion. From the +General of Division to the Brigadier. He, a man of acknowledged bravery, +keeps carefully behind a rising ground, a house, or a tree--a sure sign +of increasing danger. Grape rattles on the roofs of the houses and +in the fields; cannon balls howl over us, and plough the air in all +directions, and soon there is a frequent whistling of musket balls. A +step farther towards the troops, to that sturdy infantry which for +hours has maintained its firmness under this heavy fire; here the air +is filled with the hissing of balls which announce their proximity by a +short sharp noise as they pass within an inch of the ear, the head, or +the breast. + +To add to all this, compassion strikes the beating heart with pity at +the sight of the maimed and fallen. The young soldier cannot reach any +of these different strata of danger without feeling that the light of +reason does not move here in the same medium, that it is not refracted +in the same manner as in speculative contemplation. Indeed, he must be a +very extraordinary man who, under these impressions for the first time, +does not lose the power of making any instantaneous decisions. It is +true that habit soon blunts such impressions; in half in hour we begin +to be more or less indifferent to all that is going on around us: but +an ordinary character never attains to complete coolness and the +natural elasticity of mind; and so we perceive that here again ordinary +qualities will not suffice--a thing which gains truth, the wider the +sphere of activity which is to be filled. Enthusiastic, stoical, natural +bravery, great ambition, or also long familiarity with danger--much of +all this there must be if all the effects produced in this resistant +medium are not to fall far short of that which in the student's chamber +may appear only the ordinary standard. + +Danger in War belongs to its friction; a correct idea of its influence +is necessary for truth of perception, and therefore it is brought under +notice here. + + + +CHAPTER V. OF BODILY EXERTION IN WAR + +IF no one were allowed to pass an opinion on the events of War, except +at a moment when he is benumbed by frost, sinking from heat and thirst, +or dying with hunger and fatigue, we should certainly have fewer +judgments correct *objectively; but they would be so, SUBJECTIVELY, +at least; that is, they would contain in themselves the exact relation +between the person giving the judgment and the object. We can perceive +this by observing how modestly subdued, even spiritless and desponding, +is the opinion passed upon the results of untoward events by those +who have been eye-witnesses, but especially if they have been parties +concerned. This is, according to our view, a criterion of the influence +which bodily fatigue exercises, and of the allowance to be made for it +in matters of opinion. + +Amongst the many things in War for which no tariff can be fixed, bodily +effort may be specially reckoned. Provided there is no waste, it is +a coefficient of all the forces, and no one can tell exactly to what +extent it may be carried. But what is remarkable is, that just as only +a strong arm enables the archer to stretch the bowstring to the utmost +extent, so also in War it is only by means of a great directing spirit +that we can expect the full power latent in the troops to be developed. +For it is one thing if an Army, in consequence of great misfortunes, +surrounded with danger, falls all to pieces like a wall that has been +thrown down, and can only find safety in the utmost exertion of its +bodily strength; it is another thing entirely when a victorious Army, +drawn on by proud feelings only, is conducted at the will of its Chief. +The same effort which in the one case might at most excite our pity +must in the other call forth our admiration, because it is much more +difficult to sustain. + +By this comes to light for the inexperienced eye one of those things +which put fetters in the dark, as it were, on the action of the mind, +and wear out in secret the powers of the soul. + +Although here the question is strictly only respecting the extreme +effort required by a Commander from his Army, by a leader from his +followers, therefore of the spirit to demand it and of the art of +getting it, still the personal physical exertion of Generals and of the +Chief Commander must not be overlooked. Having brought the analysis of +War conscientiously up to this point, we could not but take account also +of the weight of this small remaining residue. + +We have spoken here of bodily effort, chiefly because, like danger, +it belongs to the fundamental causes of friction, and because its +indefinite quantity makes it like an elastic body, the friction of which +is well known to be difficult to calculate. + +To check the abuse of these considerations, of such a survey of things +which aggravate the difficulties of War, nature has given our judgment a +guide in our sensibilities, just as an individual cannot with advantage +refer to his personal deficiencies if he is insulted and ill-treated, +but may well do so if he has successfully repelled the affront, or has +fully revenged it, so no Commander or Army will lessen the impression +of a disgraceful defeat by depicting the danger, the distress, the +exertions, things which would immensely enhance the glory of a victory. +Thus our feeling, which after all is only a higher kind of judgment, +forbids us to do what seems an act of justice to which our judgment +would be inclined. + + + +CHAPTER VI. INFORMATION IN WAR + +By the word "information" we denote all the knowledge which we have of +the enemy and his country; therefore, in fact, the foundation of all our +ideas and actions. Let us just consider the nature of this foundation, +its want of trustworthiness, its changefulness, and we shall soon feel +what a dangerous edifice War is, how easily it may fall to pieces and +bury us in its ruins. For although it is a maxim in all books that +we should trust only certain information, that we must be always +suspicious, that is only a miserable book comfort, belonging to that +description of knowledge in which writers of systems and compendiums +take refuge for want of anything better to say. + +Great part of the information obtained in War is contradictory, a still +greater part is false, and by far the greatest part is of a doubtful +character. What is required of an officer is a certain power of +discrimination, which only knowledge of men and things and good judgment +can give. The law of probability must be his guide. This is not a +trifling difficulty even in respect of the first plans, which can +be formed in the chamber outside the real sphere of War, but it is +enormously increased when in the thick of War itself one report follows +hard upon the heels of another; it is then fortunate if these reports in +contradicting each other show a certain balance of probability, and thus +themselves call forth a scrutiny. It is much worse for the inexperienced +when accident does not render him this service, but one report supports +another, confirms it, magnifies it, finishes off the picture with fresh +touches of colour, until necessity in urgent haste forces from us a +resolution which will soon be discovered to be folly, all those reports +having been lies, exaggerations, errors, &c. &c. In a few words, most +reports are false, and the timidity of men acts as a multiplier of lies +and untruths. As a general rule, every one is more inclined to lend +credence to the bad than the good. Every one is inclined to magnify the +bad in some measure, and although the alarms which are thus propagated +like the waves of the sea subside into themselves, still, like them, +without any apparent cause they rise again. Firm in reliance on his own +better convictions, the Chief must stand like a rock against which the +sea breaks its fury in vain. The role is not easy; he who is not by +nature of a buoyant disposition, or trained by experience in War, and +matured in judgment, may let it be his rule to do violence to his own +natural conviction by inclining from the side of fear to that of +hope; only by that means will he be able to preserve his balance. This +difficulty of seeing things correctly, which is one of the greatest +sources of friction in War, makes things appear quite different from +what was expected. The impression of the senses is stronger than the +force of the ideas resulting from methodical reflection, and this goes +so far that no important undertaking was ever yet carried out without +the Commander having to subdue new doubts in himself at the time of +commencing the execution of his work. Ordinary men who follow the +suggestions of others become, therefore, generally undecided on the +spot; they think that they have found circumstances different from what +they had expected, and this view gains strength by their again yielding +to the suggestions of others. But even the man who has made his own +plans, when he comes to see things with his own eyes will often think +he has done wrong. Firm reliance on self must make him proof against +the seeming pressure of the moment; his first conviction will in the end +prove true, when the foreground scenery which fate has pushed on to +the stage of War, with its accompaniments of terrific objects, is drawn +aside and the horizon extended. This is one of the great chasms which +separate CONCEPTION from EXECUTION. + + + +CHAPTER VII. FRICTION IN WAR + +As long as we have no personal knowledge of War, we cannot conceive +where those difficulties lie of which so much is said, and what that +genius and those extraordinary mental powers required in a General +have really to do. All appears so simple, all the requisite branches of +knowledge appear so plain, all the combinations so unimportant, that in +comparison with them the easiest problem in higher mathematics impresses +us with a certain scientific dignity. But if we have seen War, all +becomes intelligible; and still, after all, it is extremely difficult +to describe what it is which brings about this change, to specify this +invisible and completely efficient factor. + +Everything is very simple in War, but the simplest thing is difficult. +These difficulties accumulate and produce a friction which no man can +imagine exactly who has not seen War, Suppose now a traveller, who +towards evening expects to accomplish the two stages at the end of +his day's journey, four or five leagues, with post-horses, on the high +road--it is nothing. He arrives now at the last station but one, finds +no horses, or very bad ones; then a hilly country, bad roads; it is +a dark night, and he is glad when, after a great deal of trouble, he +reaches the next station, and finds there some miserable accommodation. +So in War, through the influence of an infinity of petty circumstances, +which cannot properly be described on paper, things disappoint us, and +we fall short of the mark. A powerful iron will overcomes this friction; +it crushes the obstacles, but certainly the machine along with them. +We shall often meet with this result. Like an obelisk towards which the +principal streets of a town converge, the strong will of a proud spirit +stands prominent and commanding in the middle of the Art of War. + +Friction is the only conception which in a general way corresponds +to that which distinguishes real War from War on paper. The military +machine, the Army and all belonging to it, is in fact simple, and +appears on this account easy to manage. But let us reflect that no part +of it is in one piece, that it is composed entirely of individuals, each +of which keeps up its own friction in all directions. Theoretically all +sounds very well: the commander of a battalion is responsible for the +execution of the order given; and as the battalion by its discipline +is glued together into one piece, and the chief must be a man of +acknowledged zeal, the beam turns on an iron pin with little friction. +But it is not so in reality, and all that is exaggerated and false in +such a conception manifests itself at once in War. The battalion always +remains composed of a number of men, of whom, if chance so wills, the +most insignificant is able to occasion delay and even irregularity. The +danger which War brings with it, the bodily exertions which it requires, +augment this evil so much that they may be regarded as the greatest +causes of it. + +This enormous friction, which is not concentrated, as in mechanics, at +a few points, is therefore everywhere brought into contact with chance, +and thus incidents take place upon which it was impossible to calculate, +their chief origin being chance. As an instance of one such chance: the +weather. Here the fog prevents the enemy from being discovered in time, +a battery from firing at the right moment, a report from reaching the +General; there the rain prevents a battalion from arriving at the right +time, because instead of for three it had to march perhaps eight hours; +the cavalry from charging effectively because it is stuck fast in heavy +ground. + +These are only a few incidents of detail by way of elucidation, that +the reader may be able to follow the author, for whole volumes might be +written on these difficulties. To avoid this, and still to give a clear +conception of the host of small difficulties to be contended with in +War, we might go on heaping up illustrations, if we were not afraid of +being tiresome. But those who have already comprehended us will permit +us to add a few more. + +Activity in War is movement in a resistant medium. Just as a man +immersed in water is unable to perform with ease and regularity the most +natural and simplest movement, that of walking, so in War, with ordinary +powers, one cannot keep even the line of mediocrity. This is the reason +that the correct theorist is like a swimming master, who teaches on +dry land movements which are required in the water, which must appear +grotesque and ludicrous to those who forget about the water. This is +also why theorists, who have never plunged in themselves, or who cannot +deduce any generalities from their experience, are unpractical and even +absurd, because they only teach what every one knows--how to walk. + +Further, every War is rich in particular facts, while at the same time +each is an unexplored sea, full of rocks which the General may have a +suspicion of, but which he has never seen with his eye, and round which, +moreover, he must steer in the night. If a contrary wind also springs +up, that is, if any great accidental event declares itself adverse to +him, then the most consummate skill, presence of mind, and energy are +required, whilst to those who only look on from a distance all seems to +proceed with the utmost ease. The knowledge of this friction is a chief +part of that so often talked of, experience in War, which is required +in a good General. Certainly he is not the best General in whose mind it +assumes the greatest dimensions, who is the most over-awed by it (this +includes that class of over-anxious Generals, of whom there are so many +amongst the experienced); but a General must be aware of it that he may +overcome it, where that is possible, and that he may not expect a degree +of precision in results which is impossible on account of this very +friction. Besides, it can never be learnt theoretically; and if it +could, there would still be wanting that experience of judgment which +is called tact, and which is always more necessary in a field full of +innumerable small and diversified objects than in great and decisive +cases, when one's own judgment may be aided by consultation with others. +Just as the man of the world, through tact of judgment which has become +habit, speaks, acts, and moves only as suits the occasion, so the +officer experienced in War will always, in great and small matters, at +every pulsation of War as we may say, decide and determine suitably to +the occasion. Through this experience and practice the idea comes to his +mind of itself that so and so will not suit. And thus he will not easily +place himself in a position by which he is compromised, which, if +it often occurs in War, shakes all the foundations of confidence and +becomes extremely dangerous. + +It is therefore this friction, or what is so termed here, which makes +that which appears easy in War difficult in reality. As we proceed, we +shall often meet with this subject again, and it will hereafter become +plain that besides experience and a strong will, there are still many +other rare qualities of the mind required to make a man a consummate +General. + + + +CHAPTER VIII. CONCLUDING REMARKS, BOOK I + +THOSE things which as elements meet together in the atmosphere of War +and make it a resistant medium for every activity we have designated +under the terms danger, bodily effort (exertion), information, and +friction. In their impedient effects they may therefore be comprehended +again in the collective notion of a general friction. Now is there, +then, no kind of oil which is capable of diminishing this friction? Only +one, and that one is not always available at the will of the Commander +or his Army. It is the habituation of an Army to War. + +Habit gives strength to the body in great exertion, to the mind in great +danger, to the judgment against first impressions. By it a valuable +circumspection is generally gained throughout every rank, from the +hussar and rifleman up to the General of Division, which facilitates the +work of the Chief Commander. + +As the human eye in a dark room dilates its pupil, draws in the little +light that there is, partially distinguishes objects by degrees, and +at last knows them quite well, so it is in War with the experienced +soldier, whilst the novice is only met by pitch dark night. + +Habituation to War no General can give his Army at once, and the camps +of manoeuvre (peace exercises) furnish but a weak substitute for it, +weak in comparison with real experience in War, but not weak in relation +to other Armies in which the training is limited to mere mechanical +exercises of routine. So to regulate the exercises in peace time as +to include some of these causes of friction, that the judgment, +circumspection, even resolution of the separate leaders may be brought +into exercise, is of much greater consequence than those believe who do +not know the thing by experience. It is of immense importance that the +soldier, high or low, whatever rank he has, should not have to encounter +in War those things which, when seen for the first time, set him in +astonishment and perplexity; if he has only met with them one single +time before, even by that he is half acquainted with them. This relates +even to bodily fatigues. They should be practised less to accustom the +body to them than the mind. In War the young soldier is very apt to +regard unusual fatigues as the consequence of faults, mistakes, and +embarrassment in the conduct of the whole, and to become distressed +and despondent as a consequence. This would not happen if he had been +prepared for this beforehand by exercises in peace. + +Another less comprehensive but still very important means of gaining +habituation to War in time of peace is to invite into the service +officers of foreign armies who have had experience in War. Peace seldom +reigns over all Europe, and never in all quarters of the world. A State +which has been long at peace should, therefore, always seek to procure +some officers who have done good service at the different scenes of +Warfare, or to send there some of its own, that they may get a lesson in +War. + +However small the number of officers of this description may appear in +proportion to the mass, still their influence is very sensibly +felt.(*) Their experience, the bent of their genius, the stamp of their +character, influence their subordinates and comrades; and besides that, +if they cannot be placed in positions of superior command, they may +always be regarded as men acquainted with the country, who may be +questioned on many special occasions. + + (*) The War of 1870 furnishes a marked illustration. Von + Moltke and von Goeben, not to mention many others, had both + seen service in this manner, the former in Turkey and Syria, + the latter in Spain--EDITOR. + + + + + +BOOK II. ON THE THEORY OF WAR + +CHAPTER I. BRANCHES OF THE ART OF WAR + +WAR in its literal meaning is fighting, for fighting alone is the +efficient principle in the manifold activity which in a wide sense +is called War. But fighting is a trial of strength of the moral and +physical forces by means of the latter. That the moral cannot be omitted +is evident of itself, for the condition of the mind has always the most +decisive influence on the forces employed in War. + +The necessity of fighting very soon led men to special inventions to +turn the advantage in it in their own favour: in consequence of these +the mode of fighting has undergone great alterations; but in whatever +way it is conducted its conception remains unaltered, and fighting is +that which constitutes War. + +The inventions have been from the first weapons and equipments for the +individual combatants. These have to be provided and the use of them +learnt before the War begins. They are made suitable to the nature of +the fighting, consequently are ruled by it; but plainly the activity +engaged in these appliances is a different thing from the fight itself; +it is only the preparation for the combat, not the conduct of the +same. That arming and equipping are not essential to the conception of +fighting is plain, because mere wrestling is also fighting. + +Fighting has determined everything appertaining to arms and equipment, +and these in turn modify the mode of fighting; there is, therefore, a +reciprocity of action between the two. + +Nevertheless, the fight itself remains still an entirely special +activity, more particularly because it moves in an entirely special +element, namely, in the element of danger. + +If, then, there is anywhere a necessity for drawing a line between +two different activities, it is here; and in order to see clearly the +importance of this idea, we need only just to call to mind how often +eminent personal fitness in one field has turned out nothing but the +most useless pedantry in the other. + +It is also in no way difficult to separate in idea the one activity from +the other, if we look at the combatant forces fully armed and equipped +as a given means, the profitable use of which requires nothing more than +a knowledge of their general results. + +The Art of War is therefore, in its proper sense, the art of making use +of the given means in fighting, and we cannot give it a better name than +the "Conduct of War." On the other hand, in a wider sense all activities +which have their existence on account of War, therefore the whole +creation of troops, that is levying them, arming, equipping, and +exercising them, belong to the Art of War. + +To make a sound theory it is most essential to separate these two +activities, for it is easy to see that if every act of War is to begin +with the preparation of military forces, and to presuppose forces so +organised as a primary condition for conducting War, that theory will +only be applicable in the few cases to which the force available happens +to be exactly suited. If, on the other hand, we wish to have a theory +which shall suit most cases, and will not be wholly useless in any case, +it must be founded on those means which are in most general use, and in +respect to these only on the actual results springing from them. + +The conduct of War is, therefore, the formation and conduct of the +fighting. If this fighting was a single act, there would be no necessity +for any further subdivision, but the fight is composed of a greater +or less number of single acts, complete in themselves, which we call +combats, as we have shown in the first chapter of the first book, and +which form new units. From this arises the totally different activities, +that of the FORMATION and CONDUCT of these single combats in themselves, +and the COMBINATION of them with one another, with a view to the +ultimate object of the War. The first is called TACTICS, the other +STRATEGY. + +This division into tactics and strategy is now in almost general use, +and every one knows tolerably well under which head to place any +single fact, without knowing very distinctly the grounds on which the +classification is founded. But when such divisions are blindly adhered +to in practice, they must have some deep root. We have searched for this +root, and we might say that it is just the usage of the majority which +has brought us to it. On the other hand, we look upon the arbitrary, +unnatural definitions of these conceptions sought to be established by +some writers as not in accordance with the general usage of the terms. + +According to our classification, therefore, tactics IS THE THEORY OF THE +USE OF MILITARY FORCES IN COMBAT. Strategy IS THE THEORY OF THE USE OF +COMBATS FOR THE OBJECT OF THE WAR. + +The way in which the conception of a single, or independent combat, is +more closely determined, the conditions to which this unit is attached, +we shall only be able to explain clearly when we consider the combat; we +must content ourselves for the present with saying that in relation +to space, therefore in combats taking place at the same time, the unit +reaches just as far as PERSONAL COMMAND reaches; but in regard to time, +and therefore in relation to combats which follow each other in close +succession, it reaches to the moment when the crisis which takes place +in every combat is entirely passed. + +That doubtful cases may occur, cases, for instance, in which several +combats may perhaps be regarded also as a single one, will not overthrow +the ground of distinction we have adopted, for the same is the case with +all grounds of distinction of real things which are differentiated by a +gradually diminishing scale. There may, therefore, certainly be acts of +activity in War which, without any alteration in the point of view, +may just as well be counted strategic as tactical; for example, very +extended positions resembling a chain of posts, the preparations for the +passage of a river at several points, &c. + +Our classification reaches and covers only the USE OF THE MILITARY +FORCE. But now there are in War a number of activities which are +subservient to it, and still are quite different from it; sometimes +closely allied, sometimes less near in their affinity. All these +activities relate to the MAINTENANCE OF THE MILITARY FORCE. In the same +way as its creation and training precede its use, so its maintenance is +always a necessary condition. But, strictly viewed, all activities thus +connected with it are always to be regarded only as preparations for +fighting; they are certainly nothing more than activities which are very +close to the action, so that they run through the hostile act alternate +in importance with the use of the forces. We have therefore a right to +exclude them as well as the other preparatory activities from the Art of +War in its restricted sense, from the conduct of War properly so called; +and we are obliged to do so if we would comply with the first principle +of all theory, the elimination of all heterogeneous elements. Who would +include in the real "conduct of War" the whole litany of subsistence and +administration, because it is admitted to stand in constant reciprocal +action with the use of the troops, but is something essentially +different from it? + +We have said, in the third chapter of our first book, that as the fight +or combat is the only directly effective activity, therefore the threads +of all others, as they end in it, are included in it. By this we meant +to say that to all others an object was thereby appointed which, in +accordance with the laws peculiar to themselves, they must seek to +attain. Here we must go a little closer into this subject. + +The subjects which constitute the activities outside of the combat are +of various kinds. + +The one part belongs, in one respect, to the combat itself, is identical +with it, whilst it serves in another respect for the maintenance of the +military force. The other part belongs purely to the subsistence, and +has only, in consequence of the reciprocal action, a limited influence +on the combats by its results. The subjects which in one respect belong +to the fighting itself are MARCHES, CAMPS, and CANTONMENTS, for they +suppose so many different situations of troops, and where troops are +supposed there the idea of the combat must always be present. + +The other subjects, which only belong to the maintenance, are +SUBSISTENCE, CARE OF THE SICK, the SUPPLY AND REPAIR OF ARMS AND +EQUIPMENT. + +Marches are quite identical with the use of the troops. The act of +marching in the combat, generally called manoeuvring, certainly does +not necessarily include the use of weapons, but it is so completely +and necessarily combined with it that it forms an integral part of that +which we call a combat. But the march outside the combat is nothing but +the execution of a strategic measure. By the strategic plan is settled +WHEN, WHERE, and WITH WHAT FORCES a battle is to be delivered--and to +carry that into execution the march is the only means. + +The march outside of the combat is therefore an instrument of strategy, +but not on that account exclusively a subject of strategy, for as the +armed force which executes it may be involved in a possible combat at +any moment, therefore its execution stands also under tactical as +well as strategic rules. If we prescribe to a column its route on a +particular side of a river or of a branch of a mountain, then that is +a strategic measure, for it contains the intention of fighting on that +particular side of the hill or river in preference to the other, in case +a combat should be necessary during the march. + +But if a column, instead of following the road through a valley, marches +along the parallel ridge of heights, or for the convenience of +marching divides itself into several columns, then these are tactical +arrangements, for they relate to the manner in which we shall use the +troops in the anticipated combat. + +The particular order of march is in constant relation with readiness for +combat, is therefore tactical in its nature, for it is nothing more than +the first or preliminary disposition for the battle which may possibly +take place. + +As the march is the instrument by which strategy apportions its active +elements, the combats, but these last often only appear by their results +and not in the details of their real course, it could not fail to +happen that in theory the instrument has often been substituted for the +efficient principle. Thus we hear of a decisive skilful march, allusion +being thereby made to those combat-combinations to which these marches +led. This substitution of ideas is too natural and conciseness of +expression too desirable to call for alteration, but still it is only a +condensed chain of ideas in regard to which we must never omit to bear +in mind the full meaning, if we would avoid falling into error. + +We fall into an error of this description if we attribute to strategical +combinations a power independent of tactical results. We read of marches +and manoeuvres combined, the object attained, and at the same time not +a word about combat, from which the conclusion is drawn that there +are means in War of conquering an enemy without fighting. The prolific +nature of this error we cannot show until hereafter. + +But although a march can be regarded absolutely as an integral part of +the combat, still there are in it certain relations which do not belong +to the combat, and therefore are neither tactical nor strategic. To +these belong all arrangements which concern only the accommodation +of the troops, the construction of bridges, roads, &c. These are only +conditions; under many circumstances they are in very close connection, +and may almost identify themselves with the troops, as in building +a bridge in presence of the enemy; but in themselves they are always +activities, the theory of which does not form part of the theory of the +conduct of War. + +Camps, by which we mean every disposition of troops in concentrated, +therefore in battle order, in contradistinction to cantonments or +quarters, are a state of rest, therefore of restoration; but they are +at the same time also the strategic appointment of a battle on the spot, +chosen; and by the manner in which they are taken up they contain the +fundamental lines of the battle, a condition from which every defensive +battle starts; they are therefore essential parts of both strategy and +tactics. + +Cantonments take the place of camps for the better refreshment of the +troops. They are therefore, like camps, strategic subjects as regards +position and extent; tactical subjects as regards internal organisation, +with a view to readiness to fight. + +The occupation of camps and cantonments no doubt usually combines with +the recuperation of the troops another object also, for example, the +covering a district of country, the holding a position; but it can very +well be only the first. We remind our readers that strategy may follow +a great diversity of objects, for everything which appears an advantage +may be the object of a combat, and the preservation of the instrument +with which War is made must necessarily very often become the object of +its partial combinations. + +If, therefore, in such a case strategy ministers only to the maintenance +of the troops, we are not on that account out of the field of strategy, +for we are still engaged with the use of the military force, because +every disposition of that force upon any point Whatever of the theatre +of War is such a use. + +But if the maintenance of the troops in camp or quarters calls forth +activities which are no employment of the armed force, such as the +construction of huts, pitching of tents, subsistence and sanitary +services in camps or quarters, then such belong neither to strategy nor +tactics. + +Even entrenchments, the site and preparation of which are plainly part +of the order of battle, therefore tactical subjects, do not belong to +the theory of the conduct of War so far as respects the execution of +their construction the knowledge and skill required for such work being, +in point of fact, qualities inherent in the nature of an organised Army; +the theory of the combat takes them for granted. + +Amongst the subjects which belong to the mere keeping up of an armed +force, because none of the parts are identified with the combat, the +victualling of the troops themselves comes first, as it must be done +almost daily and for each individual. Thus it is that it completely +permeates military action in the parts constituting strategy--we say +parts constituting strategy, because during a battle the subsistence of +troops will rarely have any influence in modifying the plan, although +the thing is conceivable enough. The care for the subsistence of the +troops comes therefore into reciprocal action chiefly with strategy, and +there is nothing more common than for the leading strategic features of +a campaign and War to be traced out in connection with a view to this +supply. But however frequent and however important these views of +supply may be, the subsistence of the troops always remains a completely +different activity from the use of the troops, and the former has only +an influence on the latter by its results. + +The other branches of administrative activity which we have mentioned +stand much farther apart from the use of the troops. The care of sick +and wounded, highly important as it is for the good of an Army, directly +affects it only in a small portion of the individuals composing it, and +therefore has only a weak and indirect influence upon the use of the +rest. The completing and replacing articles of arms and equipment, +except so far as by the organism of the forces it constitutes a +continuous activity inherent in them--takes place only periodically, and +therefore seldom affects strategic plans. + +We must, however, here guard ourselves against a mistake. In certain +cases these subjects may be really of decisive importance. The distance +of hospitals and depots of munitions may very easily be imagined as the +sole cause of very important strategic decisions. We do not wish either +to contest that point or to throw it into the shade. But we are at +present occupied not with the particular facts of a concrete case, +but with abstract theory; and our assertion therefore is that such an +influence is too rare to give the theory of sanitary measures and the +supply of munitions and arms an importance in theory of the conduct +of War such as to make it worth while to include in the theory of the +conduct of War the consideration of the different ways and systems +which the above theories may furnish, in the same way as is certainly +necessary in regard to victualling troops. + +If we have clearly understood the results of our reflections, then +the activities belonging to War divide themselves into two principal +classes, into such as are only "preparations for War" and into the "War +itself." This division must therefore also be made in theory. + +The knowledge and applications of skill in the preparations for War are +engaged in the creation, discipline, and maintenance of all the military +forces; what general names should be given to them we do not enter into, +but we see that artillery, fortification, elementary tactics, as they +are called, the whole organisation and administration of the various +armed forces, and all such things are included. But the theory of War +itself occupies itself with the use of these prepared means for the +object of the war. It needs of the first only the results, that is, the +knowledge of the principal properties of the means taken in hand for +use. This we call "The Art of War" in a limited sense, or "Theory of the +Conduct of War," or "Theory of the Employment of Armed Forces," all of +them denoting for us the same thing. + +The present theory will therefore treat the combat as the real contest, +marches, camps, and cantonments as circumstances which are more or less +identical with it. The subsistence of the troops will only come into +consideration like OTHER GIVEN CIRCUMSTANCES in respect of its results, +not as an activity belonging to the combat. + +The Art of War thus viewed in its limited sense divides itself again +into tactics and strategy. The former occupies itself with the form of +the separate combat, the latter with its use. Both connect themselves +with the circumstances of marches, camps, cantonments only through the +combat, and these circumstances are tactical or strategic according as +they relate to the form or to the signification of the battle. + +No doubt there will be many readers who will consider superfluous this +careful separation of two things lying so close together as tactics and +strategy, because it has no direct effect on the conduct itself of War. +We admit, certainly that it would be pedantry to look for direct effects +on the field of battle from a theoretical distinction. + +But the first business of every theory is to clear up conceptions and +ideas which have been jumbled together, and, we may say, entangled and +confused; and only when a right understanding is established, as to +names and conceptions, can we hope to progress with clearness and +facility, and be certain that author and reader will always see things +from the same point of view. Tactics and strategy are two activities +mutually permeating each other in time and space, at the same time +essentially different activities, the inner laws and mutual relations of +which cannot be intelligible at all to the mind until a clear conception +of the nature of each activity is established. + +He to whom all this is nothing, must either repudiate all theoretical +consideration, OR HIS UNDERSTANDING HAS NOT AS YET BEEN PAINED by the +confused and perplexing ideas resting on no fixed point of view, +leading to no satisfactory result, sometimes dull, sometimes fantastic, +sometimes floating in vague generalities, which we are often obliged to +hear and read on the conduct of War, owing to the spirit of scientific +investigation having hitherto been little directed to these subjects. + + + +CHAPTER II. ON THE THEORY OF WAR + +1. THE FIRST CONCEPTION OF THE "ART OF WAR" WAS MERELY THE PREPARATION +OF THE ARMED FORCES. + +FORMERLY by the term "Art of War," or "Science of War," nothing was +understood but the totality of those branches of knowledge and those +appliances of skill occupied with material things. The pattern +and preparation and the mode of using arms, the construction of +fortifications and entrenchments, the organism of an army and the +mechanism of its movements, were the subject; these branches of knowledge +and skill above referred to, and the end and aim of them all was the +establishment of an armed force fit for use in War. All this concerned +merely things belonging to the material world and a one-sided activity +only, and it was in fact nothing but an activity advancing by gradations +from the lower occupations to a finer kind of mechanical art. The +relation of all this to War itself was very much the same as the +relation of the art of the sword cutler to the art of using the sword. +The employment in the moment of danger and in a state of constant +reciprocal action of the particular energies of mind and spirit in the +direction proposed to them was not yet even mooted. + + +2. TRUE WAR FIRST APPEARS IN THE ART OF SIEGES. + +In the art of sieges we first perceive a certain degree of guidance of +the combat, something of the action of the intellectual faculties upon +the material forces placed under their control, but generally only so +far that it very soon embodied itself again in new material forms, such +as approaches, trenches, counter-approaches, batteries, &c., and every +step which this action of the higher faculties took was marked by some +such result; it was only the thread that was required on which to string +these material inventions in order. As the intellect can hardly manifest +itself in this kind of War, except in such things, so therefore nearly +all that was necessary was done in that way. + + +3. THEN TACTICS TRIED TO FIND ITS WAY IN THE SAME DIRECTION. + +Afterwards tactics attempted to give to the mechanism of its joints the +character of a general disposition, built upon the peculiar properties +of the instrument, which character leads indeed to the battle-field, but +instead of leading to the free activity of mind, leads to an Army made +like an automaton by its rigid formations and orders of battle, +which, movable only by the word of command, is intended to unwind its +activities like a piece of clockwork. + + +4. THE REAL CONDUCT OF WAR ONLY MADE ITS APPEARANCE INCIDENTALLY AND +INCOGNITO. + +The conduct of War properly so called, that is, a use of the prepared +means adapted to the most special requirements, was not considered as +any suitable subject for theory, but one which should be left to +natural talents alone. By degrees, as War passed from the hand-to-hand +encounters of the middle ages into a more regular and systematic form, +stray reflections on this point also forced themselves into men's minds, +but they mostly appeared only incidentally in memoirs and narratives, +and in a certain measure incognito. + + +5. REFLECTIONS ON MILITARY EVENTS BROUGHT ABOUT THE WANT OF A THEORY. + +As contemplation on War continually increased, and its history every day +assumed more of a critical character, the urgent want appeared of the +support of fixed maxims and rules, in order that in the controversies +naturally arising about military events the war of opinions might +be brought to some one point. This whirl of opinions, which neither +revolved on any central pivot nor according to any appreciable laws, +could not but be very distasteful to people's minds. + + +6. ENDEAVOURS TO ESTABLISH A POSITIVE THEORY. + +There arose, therefore, an endeavour to establish maxims, rules, +and even systems for the conduct of War. By this the attainment of +a positive object was proposed, without taking into view the endless +difficulties which the conduct of War presents in that respect. +The conduct of War, as we have shown, has no definite limits in any +direction, while every system has the circumscribing nature of a +synthesis, from which results an irreconcileable opposition between such +a theory and practice. + + +7. LIMITATION TO MATERIAL OBJECTS. + +Writers on theory felt the difficulty of the subject soon enough, and +thought themselves entitled to get rid of it by directing their maxims +and systems only upon material things and a one-sided activity. Their +aim was to reach results, as in the science for the preparation for +War, entirely certain and positive, and therefore only to take into +consideration that which could be made matter of calculation. + + +8. SUPERIORITY OF NUMBERS. + +The superiority in numbers being a material condition, it was chosen +from amongst all the factors required to produce victory, because it +could be brought under mathematical laws through combinations of time +and space. It was thought possible to leave out of sight all other +circumstances, by supposing them to be equal on each side, and therefore +to neutralise one another. This would have been very well if it had been +done to gain a preliminary knowledge of this one factor, according to +its relations, but to make it a rule for ever to consider superiority +of numbers as the sole law; to see the whole secret of the Art of War in +the formula, IN A CERTAIN TIME, AT A CERTAIN POINT, TO BRING UP SUPERIOR +MASSES--was a restriction overruled by the force of realities. + + +9. VICTUALLING OF TROOPS. + +By one theoretical school an attempt was made to systematise another +material element also, by making the subsistence of troops, according to +a previously established organism of the Army, the supreme legislator +in the higher conduct of War. In this way certainly they arrived at +definite figures, but at figures which rested on a number of arbitrary +calculations, and which therefore could not stand the test of practical +application. + + +10. BASE. + +An ingenious author tried to concentrate in a single conception, that of +a BASE, a whole host of objects amongst which sundry relations even with +immaterial forces found their way in as well. The list comprised the +subsistence of the troops, the keeping them complete in numbers and +equipment, the security of communications with the home country, lastly, +the security of retreat in case it became necessary; and, first of +all, he proposed to substitute this conception of a base for all these +things; then for the base itself to substitute its own length (extent); +and, last of all, to substitute the angle formed by the army with this +base: all this was done to obtain a pure geometrical result utterly +useless. This last is, in fact, unavoidable, if we reflect that none of +these substitutions could be made without violating truth and leaving +out some of the things contained in the original conception. The idea +of a base is a real necessity for strategy, and to have conceived it +is meritorious; but to make such a use of it as we have depicted is +completely inadmissible, and could not but lead to partial conclusions +which have forced these theorists into a direction opposed to common +sense, namely, to a belief in the decisive effect of the enveloping form +of attack. + + +11. INTERIOR LINES. + +As a reaction against this false direction, another geometrical +principle, that of the so-called interior lines, was then elevated to +the throne. Although this principle rests on a sound foundation, on the +truth that the combat is the only effectual means in War, still it is, +just on account of its purely geometrical nature, nothing but another +case of one-sided theory which can never gain ascendency in the real +world. + + +12. ALL THESE ATTEMPTS ARE OPEN TO OBJECTION. + +All these attempts at theory are only to be considered in their +analytical part as progress in the province of truth, but in their +synthetical part, in their precepts and rules, they are quite +unserviceable. + +They strive after determinate quantities, whilst in War all is +undetermined, and the calculation has always to be made with varying +quantities. + +They direct the attention only upon material forces, while the whole +military action is penetrated throughout by intelligent forces and their +effects. + +They only pay regard to activity on one side, whilst War is a constant +state of reciprocal action, the effects of which are mutual. + +13. AS A RULE THEY EXCLUDE GENIUS. + +All that was not attainable by such miserable philosophy, the offspring +of partial views, lay outside the precincts of science--and was the +field of genius, which RAISES ITSELF ABOVE RULES. + +Pity the warrior who is contented to crawl about in this beggardom +of rules, which are too bad for genius, over which it can set itself +superior, over which it can perchance make merry! What genius does must +be the best of all rules, and theory cannot do better than to show how +and why it is so. + +Pity the theory which sets itself in opposition to the mind! It cannot +repair this contradiction by any humility, and the humbler it is so much +the sooner will ridicule and contempt drive it out of real life. + + +14. THE DIFFICULTY OF THEORY AS SOON AS MORAL QUANTITIES COME INTO +CONSIDERATION. + +Every theory becomes infinitely more difficult from the moment that it +touches on the province of moral quantities. Architecture and painting +know quite well what they are about as long as they have only to do with +matter; there is no dispute about mechanical or optical construction. +But as soon as the moral activities begin their work, as soon as moral +impressions and feelings are produced, the whole set of rules dissolves +into vague ideas. + +The science of medicine is chiefly engaged with bodily phenomena only; +its business is with the animal organism, which, liable to perpetual +change, is never exactly the same for two moments. This makes its +practice very difficult, and places the judgment of the physician above +his science; but how much more difficult is the case if a moral effect +is added, and how much higher must we place the physician of the mind? + +15. THE MORAL QUANTITIES MUST NOT BE EXCLUDED IN WAR. + +But now the activity in War is never directed solely against matter; it +is always at the same time directed against the intelligent force which +gives life to this matter, and to separate the two from each other is +impossible. + +But the intelligent forces are only visible to the inner eye, and this +is different in each person, and often different in the same person at +different times. + +As danger is the general element in which everything moves in War, it +is also chiefly by courage, the feeling of one's own power, that the +judgment is differently influenced. It is to a certain extent the +crystalline lens through which all appearances pass before reaching the +understanding. + +And yet we cannot doubt that these things acquire a certain objective +value simply through experience. + +Every one knows the moral effect of a surprise, of an attack in flank or +rear. Every one thinks less of the enemy's courage as soon as he turns +his back, and ventures much more in pursuit than when pursued. Every +one judges of the enemy's General by his reputed talents, by his age +and experience, and shapes his course accordingly. Every one casts a +scrutinising glance at the spirit and feeling of his own and the enemy's +troops. All these and similar effects in the province of the moral +nature of man have established themselves by experience, are perpetually +recurring, and therefore warrant our reckoning them as real quantities +of their kind. What could we do with any theory which should leave them +out of consideration? + +Certainly experience is an indispensable title for these truths. With +psychological and philosophical sophistries no theory, no General, +should meddle. + +16. PRINCIPAL DIFFICULTY OF A THEORY FOR THE CONDUCT OF WAR. + +In order to comprehend clearly the difficulty of the proposition which +is contained in a theory for the conduct of War, and thence to deduce +the necessary characteristics of such a theory, we must take a closer +view of the chief particulars which make up the nature of activity in +War. + + +17. FIRST SPECIALITY.--MORAL FORCES AND THEIR EFFECTS. (HOSTILE +FEELING.) + +The first of these specialities consists in the moral forces and +effects. + +The combat is, in its origin, the expression of HOSTILE FEELING, but in +our great combats, which we call Wars, the hostile feeling frequently +resolves itself into merely a hostile VIEW, and there is usually no +innate hostile feeling residing in individual against individual. +Nevertheless, the combat never passes off without such feelings being +brought into activity. National hatred, which is seldom wanting in our +Wars, is a substitute for personal hostility in the breast of individual +opposed to individual. But where this also is wanting, and at first +no animosity of feeling subsists, a hostile feeling is kindled by the +combat itself; for an act of violence which any one commits upon us by +order of his superior, will excite in us a desire to retaliate and be +revenged on him, sooner than on the superior power at whose command the +act was done. This is human, or animal if we will; still it is so. We +are very apt to regard the combat in theory as an abstract trial of +strength, without any participation on the part of the feelings, and +that is one of the thousand errors which theorists deliberately commit, +because they do not see its consequences. + +Besides that excitation of feelings naturally arising from the combat +itself, there are others also which do not essentially belong to it, but +which, on account of their relationship, easily unite with it--ambition, +love of power, enthusiasm of every kind, &c. &c. + + +18. THE IMPRESSIONS OF DANGER. (COURAGE.) + +Finally, the combat begets the element of danger, in which all the +activities of War must live and move, like the bird in the air or +the fish in the water. But the influences of danger all pass into the +feelings, either directly--that is, instinctively--or through the medium +of the understanding. The effect in the first case would be a desire to +escape from the danger, and, if that cannot be done, fright and anxiety. +If this effect does not take place, then it is COURAGE, which is a +counterpoise to that instinct. Courage is, however, by no means an act +of the understanding, but likewise a feeling, like fear; the latter +looks to the physical preservation, courage to the moral preservation. +Courage, then, is a nobler instinct. But because it is so, it will not +allow itself to be used as a lifeless instrument, which produces its +effects exactly according to prescribed measure. Courage is therefore +no mere counterpoise to danger in order to neutralise the latter in its +effects, but a peculiar power in itself. + + +19. EXTENT OF THE INFLUENCE OF DANGER. + +But to estimate exactly the influence of danger upon the principal +actors in War, we must not limit its sphere to the physical danger of +the moment. It dominates over the actor, not only by threatening him, +but also by threatening all entrusted to him, not only at the moment in +which it is actually present, but also through the imagination at all +other moments, which have a connection with the present; lastly, not +only directly by itself, but also indirectly by the responsibility which +makes it bear with tenfold weight on the mind of the chief actor. Who +could advise, or resolve upon a great battle, without feeling his mind +more or less wrought up, or perplexed by, the danger and responsibility +which such a great act of decision carries in itself? We may say that +action in War, in so far as it is real action, not a mere condition, is +never out of the sphere of danger. + + +20. OTHER POWERS OF FEELING. + +If we look upon these affections which are excited by hostility and +danger as peculiarly belonging to War, we do not, therefore, exclude +from it all others accompanying man in his life's journey. They will +also find room here frequently enough. Certainly we may say that many +a petty action of the passions is silenced in this serious business of +life; but that holds good only in respect to those acting in a lower +sphere, who, hurried on from one state of danger and exertion to +another, lose sight of the rest of the things of life, BECOME UNUSED +TO DECEIT, because it is of no avail with death, and so attain to +that soldierly simplicity of character which has always been the best +representative of the military profession. In higher regions it is +otherwise, for the higher a man's rank, the more he must look around +him; then arise interests on every side, and a manifold activity of +the passions of good and bad. Envy and generosity, pride and humility, +fierceness and tenderness, all may appear as active powers in this great +drama. + + +21. PECULIARITY OF MIND. + +The peculiar characteristics of mind in the chief actor have, as well as +those of the feelings, a high importance. From an imaginative, flighty, +inexperienced head, and from a calm, sagacious understanding, different +things are to be expected. + + +22. FROM THE DIVERSITY IN MENTAL INDIVIDUALITIES ARISES THE DIVERSITY OF +WAYS LEADING TO THE END. + +It is this great diversity in mental individuality, the influence of +which is to be supposed as chiefly felt in the higher ranks, because it +increases as we progress upwards, which chiefly produces the diversity +of ways leading to the end noticed by us in the first book, and which +gives, to the play of probabilities and chance, such an unequal share in +determining the course of events. + + +23. SECOND PECULIARITY.--LIVING REACTION. + +The second peculiarity in War is the living reaction, and the reciprocal +action resulting therefrom. We do not here speak of the difficulty of +estimating that reaction, for that is included in the difficulty before +mentioned, of treating the moral powers as quantities; but of this, that +reciprocal action, by its nature, opposes anything like a regular +plan. The effect which any measure produces upon the enemy is the most +distinct of all the data which action affords; but every theory must +keep to classes (or groups) of phenomena, and can never take up the +really individual case in itself: that must everywhere be left to +judgment and talent. It is therefore natural that in a business such as +War, which in its plan--built upon general circumstances--is so often +thwarted by unexpected and singular accidents, more must generally be +left to talent; and less use can be made of a THEORETICAL GUIDE than in +any other. + + +24. THIRD PECULIARITY.--UNCERTAINTY OF ALL DATA. + +Lastly, the great uncertainty of all data in War is a peculiar +difficulty, because all action must, to a certain extent, be planned in +a mere twilight, which in addition not unfrequently--like the effect +of a fog or moonshine--gives to things exaggerated dimensions and an +unnatural appearance. + +What this feeble light leaves indistinct to the sight talent must +discover, or must be left to chance. It is therefore again talent, or +the favour of fortune, on which reliance must be placed, for want of +objective knowledge. + + +25. POSITIVE THEORY IS IMPOSSIBLE. + +With materials of this kind we can only say to ourselves that it is a +sheer impossibility to construct for the Art of War a theory which, like +a scaffolding, shall ensure to the chief actor an external support on +all sides. In all those cases in which he is thrown upon his talent +he would find himself away from this scaffolding of theory and in +opposition to it, and, however many-sided it might be framed, the same +result would ensue of which we spoke when we said that talent and genius +act beyond the law, and theory is in opposition to reality. + + +26. MEANS LEFT BY WHICH A THEORY IS POSSIBLE (THE DIFFICULTIES ARE NOT +EVERYWHERE EQUALLY GREAT). + +Two means present themselves of getting out of this difficulty. In +the first place, what we have said of the nature of military action in +general does not apply in the same manner to the action of every +one, whatever may be his standing. In the lower ranks the spirit of +self-sacrifice is called more into request, but the difficulties which +the understanding and judgment meet with are infinitely less. The field +of occurrences is more confined. Ends and means are fewer in number. +Data more distinct; mostly also contained in the actually visible. But +the higher we ascend the more the difficulties increase, until in the +Commander-in-Chief they reach their climax, so that with him almost +everything must be left to genius. + +Further, according to a division of the subject in AGREEMENT WITH ITS +NATURE, the difficulties are not everywhere the same, but diminish the +more results manifest themselves in the material world, and increase the +more they pass into the moral, and become motives which influence the +will. Therefore it is easier to determine, by theoretical rules, the +order and conduct of a battle, than the use to be made of the battle +itself. Yonder physical weapons clash with each other, and although mind +is not wanting therein, matter must have its rights. But in the effects +to be produced by battles when the material results become motives, we +have only to do with the moral nature. In a word, it is easier to make a +theory for TACTICS than for STRATEGY. + + +27. THEORY MUST BE OF THE NATURE OF OBSERVATIONS NOT OF DOCTRINE. + +The second opening for the possibility of a theory lies in the point of +view that it does not necessarily require to be a DIRECTION for action. +As a general rule, whenever an ACTIVITY is for the most part occupied +with the same objects over and over again, with the same ends and means, +although there may be trifling alterations and a corresponding number of +varieties of combination, such things are capable of becoming a subject +of study for the reasoning faculties. But such study is just the most +essential part of every THEORY, and has a peculiar title to that name. +It is an analytical investigation of the subject that leads to an exact +knowledge; and if brought to bear on the results of experience, which in +our case would be military history, to a thorough familiarity with it. +The nearer theory attains the latter object, so much the more it passes +over from the objective form of knowledge into the subjective one of +skill in action; and so much the more, therefore, it will prove itself +effective when circumstances allow of no other decision but that of +personal talents; it will show its effects in that talent itself. If +theory investigates the subjects which constitute War; if it separates +more distinctly that which at first sight seems amalgamated; if it +explains fully the properties of the means; if it shows their probable +effects; if it makes evident the nature of objects; if it brings to +bear all over the field of War the light of essentially critical +investigation--then it has fulfilled the chief duties of its province. +It becomes then a guide to him who wishes to make himself acquainted +with War from books; it lights up the whole road for him, facilitates +his progress, educates his judgment, and shields him from error. + +If a man of expertness spends half his life in the endeavour to clear up +an obscure subject thoroughly, he will probably know more about it than +a person who seeks to master it in a short time. Theory is instituted +that each person in succession may not have to go through the same +labour of clearing the ground and toiling through his subject, but may +find the thing in order, and light admitted on it. It should educate +the mind of the future leader in War, or rather guide him in his +self-instruction, but not accompany him to the field of battle; just +as a sensible tutor forms and enlightens the opening mind of a youth +without, therefore, keeping him in leading strings all through his life. + +If maxims and rules result of themselves from the considerations which +theory institutes, if the truth accretes itself into that form of +crystal, then theory will not oppose this natural law of the mind; it +will rather, if the arch ends in such a keystone, bring it prominently +out; but so does this, only in order to satisfy the philosophical law +of reason, in order to show distinctly the point to which the lines all +converge, not in order to form out of it an algebraical formula for use +upon the battle-field; for even these maxims and rules serve more to +determine in the reflecting mind the leading outline of its habitual +movements than as landmarks indicating to it the way in the act of +execution. + + +28. BY THIS POINT OF VIEW THEORY BECOMES POSSIBLE, AND CEASES TO BE IN +CONTRADICTION TO PRACTICE. + +Taking this point of view, there is a possibility afforded of a +satisfactory, that is, of a useful, theory of the conduct of War, never +coming into opposition with the reality, and it will only depend on +rational treatment to bring it so far into harmony with action that +between theory and practice there shall no longer be that absurd +difference which an unreasonable theory, in defiance of common sense, +has often produced, but which, just as often, narrow-mindedness and +ignorance have used as a pretext for giving way to their natural +incapacity. + + +29. THEORY THEREFORE CONSIDERS THE NATURE OF ENDS AND MEANS--ENDS AND +MEANS IN TACTICS. + +Theory has therefore to consider the nature of the means and ends. + +In tactics the means are the disciplined armed forces which are to carry +on the contest. The object is victory. The precise definition of this +conception can be better explained hereafter in the consideration of +the combat. Here we content ourselves by denoting the retirement of the +enemy from the field of battle as the sign of victory. By means of this +victory strategy gains the object for which it appointed the combat, +and which constitutes its special signification. This signification has +certainly some influence on the nature of the victory. A victory which +is intended to weaken the enemy's armed forces is a different thing from +one which is designed only to put us in possession of a position. The +signification of a combat may therefore have a sensible influence on the +preparation and conduct of it, consequently will be also a subject of +consideration in tactics. + + +30. CIRCUMSTANCES WHICH ALWAYS ATTEND THE APPLICATION OF THE MEANS. + +As there are certain circumstances which attend the combat throughout, +and have more or less influence upon its result, therefore these must be +taken into consideration in the application of the armed forces. + +These circumstances are the locality of the combat (ground), the time of +day, and the weather. + + +31. LOCALITY. + +The locality, which we prefer leaving for solution, under the head of +"Country and Ground," might, strictly speaking, be without any influence +at all if the combat took place on a completely level and uncultivated +plain. + +In a country of steppes such a case may occur, but in the cultivated +countries of Europe it is almost an imaginary idea. Therefore a +combat between civilised nations, in which country and ground have no +influence, is hardly conceivable. + + +32. TIME OF DAY. + +The time of day influences the combat by the difference between day and +night; but the influence naturally extends further than merely to the +limits of these divisions, as every combat has a certain duration, and +great battles last for several hours. In the preparations for a great +battle, it makes an essential difference whether it begins in the +morning or the evening. At the same time, certainly many battles may be +fought in which the question of the time of day is quite immaterial, and +in the generality of cases its influence is only trifling. + + +33. WEATHER. + +Still more rarely has the weather any decisive influence, and it is +mostly only by fogs that it plays a part. + + +34. END AND MEANS IN STRATEGY. + +Strategy has in the first instance only the victory, that is, the +tactical result, as a means to its object, and ultimately those things +which lead directly to peace. The application of its means to this +object is at the same time attended by circumstances which have an +influence thereon more or less. + +35. CIRCUMSTANCES WHICH ATTEND THE APPLICATION OF THE MEANS OF STRATEGY. + +These circumstances are country and ground, the former including the +territory and inhabitants of the whole theatre of war; next the time +of the day, and the time of the year as well; lastly, the weather, +particularly any unusual state of the same, severe frost, &c. + + +36. THESE FORM NEW MEANS. + +By bringing these things into combination with the results of a +combat, strategy gives this result--and therefore the combat--a special +signification, places before it a particular object. But when +this object is not that which leads directly to peace, therefore a +subordinate one, it is only to be looked upon as a means; and therefore +in strategy we may look upon the results of combats or victories, in all +their different significations, as means. The conquest of a position +is such a result of a combat applied to ground. But not only are the +different combats with special objects to be considered as means, but +also every higher aim which we may have in view in the combination of +battles directed on a common object is to be regarded as a means. A +winter campaign is a combination of this kind applied to the season. + +There remain, therefore, as objects, only those things which may be +supposed as leading DIRECTLY to peace, Theory investigates all these +ends and means according to the nature of their effects and their mutual +relations. + + +37. STRATEGY DEDUCES ONLY FROM EXPERIENCE THE ENDS AND MEANS TO BE +EXAMINED. + +The first question is, How does strategy arrive at a complete list of +these things? If there is to be a philosophical inquiry leading to an +absolute result, it would become entangled in all those difficulties +which the logical necessity of the conduct of War and its theory +exclude. It therefore turns to experience, and directs its attention on +those combinations which military history can furnish. In this manner, +no doubt, nothing more than a limited theory can be obtained, which +only suits circumstances such as are presented in history. But this +incompleteness is unavoidable, because in any case theory must either +have deduced from, or have compared with, history what it advances with +respect to things. Besides, this incompleteness in every case is more +theoretical than real. + +One great advantage of this method is that theory cannot lose itself in +abstruse disquisitions, subtleties, and chimeras, but must always remain +practical. + + +38. HOW FAR THE ANALYSIS OF THE MEANS SHOULD BE CARRIED. + +Another question is, How far should theory go in its analysis of the +means? Evidently only so far as the elements in a separate form present +themselves for consideration in practice. The range and effect of +different weapons is very important to tactics; their construction, +although these effects result from it, is a matter of indifference; +for the conduct of War is not making powder and cannon out of a given +quantity of charcoal, sulphur, and saltpetre, of copper and tin: the +given quantities for the conduct of War are arms in a finished state and +their effects. Strategy makes use of maps without troubling itself about +triangulations; it does not inquire how the country is subdivided into +departments and provinces, and how the people are educated and governed, +in order to attain the best military results; but it takes things as it +finds them in the community of European States, and observes where very +different conditions have a notable influence on War. + + +39. GREAT SIMPLIFICATION OF THE KNOWLEDGE REQUIRED. + +That in this manner the number of subjects for theory is much +simplified, and the knowledge requisite for the conduct of War much +reduced, is easy to perceive. The very great mass of knowledge and +appliances of skill which minister to the action of War in general, and +which are necessary before an army fully equipped can take the field, +unite in a few great results before they are able to reach, in actual +War, the final goal of their activity; just as the streams of a country +unite themselves in rivers before they fall into the sea. Only those +activities emptying themselves directly into the sea of War have to be +studied by him who is to conduct its operations. + + +40. THIS EXPLAINS THE RAPID GROWTH OF GREAT GENERALS, AND WHY A GENERAL +IS NOT A MAN OF LEARNING. + +This result of our considerations is in fact so necessary, any other +would have made us distrustful of their accuracy. Only thus is explained +how so often men have made their appearance with great success in War, +and indeed in the higher ranks even in supreme Command, whose pursuits +had been previously of a totally different nature; indeed how, as a +rule, the most distinguished Generals have never risen from the very +learned or really erudite class of officers, but have been mostly men +who, from the circumstances of their position, could not have attained +to any great amount of knowledge. On that account those who have +considered it necessary or even beneficial to commence the education +of a future General by instruction in all details have always been +ridiculed as absurd pedants. It would be easy to show the injurious +tendency of such a course, because the human mind is trained by the +knowledge imparted to it and the direction given to its ideas. Only what +is great can make it great; the little can only make it little, if the +mind itself does not reject it as something repugnant. + + +41. FORMER CONTRADICTIONS. + +Because this simplicity of knowledge requisite in War was not attended +to, but that knowledge was always jumbled up with the whole impedimenta +of subordinate sciences and arts, therefore the palpable opposition to +the events of real life which resulted could not be solved otherwise +than by ascribing it all to genius, which requires no theory and for +which no theory could be prescribed. + + +42. ON THIS ACCOUNT ALL USE OF KNOWLEDGE WAS DENIED, AND EVERYTHING +ASCRIBED TO NATURAL TALENTS. + +People with whom common sense had the upper hand felt sensible of the +immense distance remaining to be filled up between a genius of the +highest order and a learned pedant; and they became in a manner +free-thinkers, rejected all belief in theory, and affirmed the conduct +of War to be a natural function of man, which he performs more or less +well according as he has brought with him into the world more or less +talent in that direction. It cannot be denied that these were nearer to +the truth than those who placed a value on false knowledge: at the +same time it may easily be seen that such a view is itself but an +exaggeration. No activity of the human understanding is possible without +a certain stock of ideas; but these are, for the greater part at least, +not innate but acquired, and constitute his knowledge. The only question +therefore is, of what kind should these ideas be; and we think we have +answered it if we say that they should be directed on those things which +man has directly to deal with in War. + + +43. THE KNOWLEDGE MUST BE MADE SUITABLE TO THE POSITION. + +Inside this field itself of military activity, the knowledge required +must be different according to the station of the Commander. It will +be directed on smaller and more circumscribed objects if he holds an +inferior, upon greater and more comprehensive ones if he holds a higher +situation. There are Field Marshals who would not have shone at the head +of a cavalry regiment, and vice versa. + + +44. THE KNOWLEDGE IN WAR IS VERY SIMPLE, BUT NOT, AT THE SAME TIME, VERY +EASY. + +But although the knowledge in War is simple, that is to say directed to +so few subjects, and taking up those only in their final results, the +art of execution is not, on that account, easy. Of the difficulties to +which activity in War is subject generally, we have already spoken in +the first book; we here omit those things which can only be overcome by +courage, and maintain also that the activity of mind, is only simple, +and easy in inferior stations, but increases in difficulty with increase +of rank, and in the highest position, in that of Commander-in-Chief, +is to be reckoned among the most difficult which there is for the human +mind. + + +45. OF THE NATURE OF THIS KNOWLEDGE. + +The Commander of an Army neither requires to be a learned explorer +of history nor a publicist, but he must be well versed in the higher +affairs of State; he must know, and be able to judge correctly of +traditional tendencies, interests at stake, the immediate questions at +issue, and the characters of leading persons; he need not be a close +observer of men, a sharp dissector of human character, but he must +know the character, the feelings, the habits, the peculiar faults and +inclinations of those whom he is to command. He need not understand +anything about the make of a carriage, or the harness of a battery +horse, but he must know how to calculate exactly the march of a column, +under different circumstances, according to the time it requires. These +are matters the knowledge of which cannot be forced out by an apparatus +of scientific formula and machinery: they are only to be gained by the +exercise of an accurate judgment in the observation of things and of +men, aided by a special talent for the apprehension of both. + +The necessary knowledge for a high position in military action is +therefore distinguished by this, that by observation, therefore by study +and reflection, it is only to be attained through a special talent +which as an intellectual instinct understands how to extract from the +phenomena of life only the essence or spirit, as bees do the honey from +the flowers; and that it is also to be gained by experience of life as +well as by study and reflection. Life will never bring forth a Newton or +an Euler by its rich teachings, but it may bring forth great calculators +in War, such as Conde' or Frederick. + +It is therefore not necessary that, in order to vindicate the +intellectual dignity of military activity, we should resort to untruth +and silly pedantry. There never has been a great and distinguished +Commander of contracted mind, but very numerous are the instances of men +who, after serving with the greatest distinction in inferior positions, +remained below mediocrity in the highest, from insufficiency of +intellectual capacity. That even amongst those holding the post of +Commander-in-Chief there may be a difference according to the degree of +their plenitude of power is a matter of course. + + +46. SCIENCE MUST BECOME ART. + +Now we have yet to consider one condition which is more necessary for +the knowledge of the conduct of War than for any other, which is, that +it must pass completely into the mind and almost completely cease to be +something objective. In almost all other arts and occupations of life +the active agent can make use of truths which he has only learnt once, +and in the spirit and sense of which he no longer lives, and which he +extracts from dusty books. Even truths which he has in hand and uses +daily may continue something external to himself, If the architect takes +up a pen to settle the strength of a pier by a complicated calculation, +the truth found as a result is no emanation from his own mind. He had +first to find the data with labour, and then to submit these to an +operation of the mind, the rule for which he did not discover, the +necessity of which he is perhaps at the moment only partly conscious of, +but which he applies, for the most part, as if by mechanical dexterity. +But it is never so in War. The moral reaction, the ever-changeful form +of things, makes it necessary for the chief actor to carry in himself +the whole mental apparatus of his knowledge, that anywhere and at every +pulse-beat he may be capable of giving the requisite decision from +himself. Knowledge must, by this complete assimilation with his own +mind and life, be converted into real power. This is the reason +why everything seems so easy with men distinguished in War, and why +everything is ascribed to natural talent. We say natural talent, in +order thereby to distinguish it from that which is formed and matured by +observation and study. + +We think that by these reflections we have explained the problem of a +theory of the conduct of War; and pointed out the way to its solution. + +Of the two fields into which we have divided the conduct of War, tactics +and strategy, the theory of the latter contains unquestionably, as +before observed, the greatest difficulties, because the first is almost +limited to a circumscribed field of objects, but the latter, in the +direction of objects leading directly to peace, opens to itself +an unlimited field of possibilities. Since for the most part the +Commander-in-Chief has only to keep these objects steadily in view, +therefore the part of strategy in which he moves is also that which is +particularly subject to this difficulty. + +Theory, therefore, especially where it comprehends the highest services, +will stop much sooner in strategy than in tactics at the simple +consideration of things, and content itself to assist the Commander to +that insight into things which, blended with his whole thought, makes +his course easier and surer, never forces him into opposition with +himself in order to obey an objective truth. + + + +CHAPTER III. ART OR SCIENCE OF WAR + +1.--USAGE STILL UNSETTLED + +(POWER AND KNOWLEDGE. SCIENCE WHEN MERE KNOWING; ART, WHEN DOING, IS THE +OBJECT.) + +THE choice between these terms seems to be still unsettled, and no one +seems to know rightly on what grounds it should be decided, and yet +the thing is simple. We have already said elsewhere that "knowing" is +something different from "doing." The two are so different that they +should not easily be mistaken the one for the other. The "doing" cannot +properly stand in any book, and therefore also Art should never be +the title of a book. But because we have once accustomed ourselves to +combine in conception, under the name of theory of Art, or simply +Art, the branches of knowledge (which may be separately pure sciences) +necessary for the practice of an Art, therefore it is consistent to +continue this ground of distinction, and to call everything Art when the +object is to carry out the "doing" (being able), as for example, Art of +building; Science, when merely knowledge is the object; as Science of +mathematics, of astronomy. That in every Art certain complete sciences +may be included is intelligible of itself, and should not perplex us. +But still it is worth observing that there is also no science without a +mixture of Art. In mathematics, for instance, the use of figures and +of algebra is an Art, but that is only one amongst many instances. The +reason is, that however plain and palpable the difference is between +knowledge and power in the composite results of human knowledge, yet it +is difficult to trace out their line of separation in man himself. + +2. DIFFICULTY OF SEPARATING PERCEPTION FROM JUDGMENT. + +(ART OF WAR.) + +All thinking is indeed Art. Where the logician draws the line, where the +premises stop which are the result of cognition--where judgment begins, +there Art begins. But more than this even the perception of the mind is +judgment again, and consequently Art; and at last, even the perception +by the senses as well. In a word, if it is impossible to imagine a human +being possessing merely the faculty of cognition, devoid of judgment or +the reverse, so also Art and Science can never be completely separated +from each other. The more these subtle elements of light embody +themselves in the outward forms of the world, so much the more separate +appear their domains; and now once more, where the object is creation +and production, there is the province of Art; where the object is +investigation and knowledge Science holds sway.--After all this it +results of itself that it is more fitting to say Art of War than Science +of War. + +So much for this, because we cannot do without these conceptions. But +now we come forward with the assertion that War is neither an Art nor a +Science in the real signification, and that it is just the setting out +from that starting-point of ideas which has led to a wrong direction +being taken, which has caused War to be put on a par with other arts and +sciences, and has led to a number of erroneous analogies. + +This has indeed been felt before now, and on that it was maintained that +War is a handicraft; but there was more lost than gained by that, for +a handicraft is only an inferior art, and as such is also subject to +definite and rigid laws. In reality the Art of War did go on for some +time in the spirit of a handicraft--we allude to the times of the +Condottieri--but then it received that direction, not from intrinsic but +from external causes; and military history shows how little it was at +that time in accordance with the nature of the thing. + + +3. WAR IS PART OF THE INTERCOURSE OF THE HUMAN RACE. + +We say therefore War belongs not to the province of Arts and Sciences, +but to the province of social life. It is a conflict of great interests +which is settled by bloodshed, and only in that is it different from +others. It would be better, instead of comparing it with any Art, to +liken it to business competition, which is also a conflict of human +interests and activities; and it is still more like State policy, which +again, on its part, may be looked upon as a kind of business competition +on a great scale. Besides, State policy is the womb in which War is +developed, in which its outlines lie hidden in a rudimentary state, like +the qualities of living creatures in their germs.(*) + + (*) The analogy has become much closer since Clausewitz's + time. Now that the first business of the State is regarded + as the development of facilities for trade, War between + great nations is only a question of time. No Hague + Conferences can avert it--EDITOR. + + +4. DIFFERENCE. + +The essential difference consists in this, that War is no activity of +the will, which exerts itself upon inanimate matter like the mechanical +Arts; or upon a living but still passive and yielding subject, like +the human mind and the human feelings in the ideal Arts, but against +a living and reacting force. How little the categories of Arts and +Sciences are applicable to such an activity strikes us at once; and we +can understand at the same time how that constant seeking and striving +after laws like those which may be developed out of the dead material +world could not but lead to constant errors. And yet it is just the +mechanical Arts that some people would imitate in the Art of War. The +imitation of the ideal Arts was quite out of the question, because these +themselves dispense too much with laws and rules, and those hitherto +tried, always acknowledged as insufficient and one-sided, are +perpetually undermined and washed away by the current of opinions, +feelings, and customs. + +Whether such a conflict of the living, as takes place and is settled +in War, is subject to general laws, and whether these are capable of +indicating a useful line of action, will be partly investigated in this +book; but so much is evident in itself, that this, like every other +subject which does not surpass our powers of understanding, may be +lighted up, and be made more or less plain in its inner relations by an +inquiring mind, and that alone is sufficient to realise the idea of a +THEORY. + + + +CHAPTER IV. METHODICISM + +IN order to explain ourselves clearly as to the conception of method, +and method of action, which play such an important part in War, we +must be allowed to cast a hasty glance at the logical hierarchy through +which, as through regularly constituted official functionaries, the +world of action is governed. + +LAW, in the widest sense strictly applying to perception as well as +action, has plainly something subjective and arbitrary in its literal +meaning, and expresses just that on which we and those things external +to us are dependent. As a subject of cognition, LAW is the relation of +things and their effects to one another; as a subject of the will, it is +a motive of action, and is then equivalent to COMMAND or PROHIBITION. + +PRINCIPLE is likewise such a law for action, except that it has not +the formal definite meaning, but is only the spirit and sense of law +in order to leave the judgment more freedom of application when the +diversity of the real world cannot be laid hold of under the definite +form of a law. As the judgment must of itself suggest the cases in which +the principle is not applicable, the latter therefore becomes in that +way a real aid or guiding star for the person acting. + +Principle is OBJECTIVE when it is the result of objective truth, and +consequently of equal value for all men; it is SUBJECTIVE, and then +generally called MAXIM if there are subjective relations in it, and if +it therefore has a certain value only for the person himself who makes +it. + +RULE is frequently taken in the sense of LAW, and then means the same +as Principle, for we say "no rule without exceptions," but we do not +say "no law without exceptions," a sign that with RULE we retain to +ourselves more freedom of application. + +In another meaning RULE is the means used of discerning a recondite +truth in a particular sign lying close at hand, in order to attach to +this particular sign the law of action directed upon the whole truth. Of +this kind are all the rules of games of play, all abridged processes in +mathematics, &c. + +DIRECTIONS and INSTRUCTIONS are determinations of action which have +an influence upon a number of minor circumstances too numerous and +unimportant for general laws. + +Lastly, METHOD, MODE OF ACTING, is an always recurring proceeding +selected out of several possible ones; and METHODICISM (METHODISMUS) is +that which is determined by methods instead of by general principles or +particular prescriptions. By this the cases which are placed under such +methods must necessarily be supposed alike in their essential parts. +As they cannot all be this, then the point is that at least as many as +possible should be; in other words, that Method should be calculated +on the most probable cases. Methodicism is therefore not founded on +determined particular premises, but on the average probability of cases +one with another; and its ultimate tendency is to set up an average +truth, the constant and uniform, application of which soon acquires +something of the nature of a mechanical appliance, which in the end does +that which is right almost unwittingly. + +The conception of law in relation to perception is not necessary for the +conduct of War, because the complex phenomena of War are not so regular, +and the regular are not so complex, that we should gain anything more by +this conception than by the simple truth. And where a simple conception +and language is sufficient, to resort to the complex becomes affected +and pedantic. The conception of law in relation to action cannot be used +in the theory of the conduct of War, because owing to the variableness +and diversity of the phenomena there is in it no determination of such a +general nature as to deserve the name of law. + +But principles, rules, prescriptions, and methods are conceptions +indispensable to a theory of the conduct of War, in so far as that +theory leads to positive doctrines, because in doctrines the truth can +only crystallise itself in such forms. + +As tactics is the branch of the conduct of War in which theory can +attain the nearest to positive doctrine, therefore these conceptions +will appear in it most frequently. + +Not to use cavalry against unbroken infantry except in some case of +special emergency, only to use firearms within effective range in +the combat, to spare the forces as much as possible for the final +struggle--these are tactical principles. None of them can be applied +absolutely in every case, but they must always be present to the mind of +the Chief, in order that the benefit of the truth contained in them may +not be lost in cases where that truth can be of advantage. + +If from the unusual cooking by an enemy's camp his movement is inferred, +if the intentional exposure of troops in a combat indicates a false +attack, then this way of discerning the truth is called rule, because +from a single visible circumstance that conclusion is drawn which +corresponds with the same. + +If it is a rule to attack the enemy with renewed vigour, as soon as he +begins to limber up his artillery in the combat, then on this particular +fact depends a course of action which is aimed at the general situation +of the enemy as inferred from the above fact, namely, that he is about +to give up the fight, that he is commencing to draw off his troops, and +is neither capable of making a serious stand while thus drawing off nor +of making his retreat gradually in good order. + +REGULATIONS and METHODS bring preparatory theories into the conduct of +War, in so far as disciplined troops are inoculated with them as active +principles. The whole body of instructions for formations, drill, and +field service are regulations and methods: in the drill instructions +the first predominate, in the field service instructions the latter. +To these things the real conduct of War attaches itself; it takes them +over, therefore, as given modes of proceeding, and as such they must +appear in the theory of the conduct of War. + +But for those activities retaining freedom in the employment of these +forces there cannot be regulations, that is, definite instructions, +because they would do away with freedom of action. Methods, on the other +hand, as a general way of executing duties as they arise, calculated, as +we have said, on an average of probability, or as a dominating influence +of principles and rules carried through to application, may certainly +appear in the theory of the conduct of War, provided only they are +not represented as something different from what they are, not as the +absolute and necessary modes of action (systems), but as the best of +general forms which may be used as shorter ways in place of a particular +disposition for the occasion, at discretion. + +But the frequent application of methods will be seen to be most +essential and unavoidable in the conduct of War, if we reflect how much +action proceeds on mere conjecture, or in complete uncertainty, +because one side is prevented from learning all the circumstances which +influence the dispositions of the other, or because, even if these +circumstances which influence the decisions of the one were really +known, there is not, owing to their extent and the dispositions they +would entail, sufficient time for the other to carry out all necessary +counteracting measures--that therefore measures in War must always +be calculated on a certain number of possibilities; if we reflect how +numberless are the trifling things belonging to any single event, and +which therefore should be taken into account along with it, and that +therefore there is no other means to suppose the one counteracted by +the other, and to base our arrangements only upon what is of a general +nature and probable; if we reflect lastly that, owing to the increasing +number of officers as we descend the scale of rank, less must be left +to the true discernment and ripe judgment of individuals the lower the +sphere of action, and that when we reach those ranks where we can look +for no other notions but those which the regulations of the service and +experience afford, we must help them with the methodic forms bordering +on those regulations. This will serve both as a support to their +judgment and a barrier against those extravagant and erroneous views +which are so especially to be dreaded in a sphere where experience is so +costly. + +Besides this absolute need of method in action, we must also acknowledge +that it has a positive advantage, which is that, through the constant +repetition of a formal exercise, a readiness, precision, and firmness +is attained in the movement of troops which diminishes the natural +friction, and makes the machine move easier. + +Method will therefore be the more generally used, become the more +indispensable, the farther down the scale of rank the position of the +active agent; and on the other hand, its use will diminish upwards, +until in the highest position it quite disappears. For this reason it is +more in its place in tactics than in strategy. + +War in its highest aspects consists not of an infinite number of little +events, the diversities in which compensate each other, and which +therefore by a better or worse method are better or worse governed, but +of separate great decisive events which must be dealt with separately. +It is not like a field of stalks, which, without any regard to the +particular form of each stalk, will be mowed better or worse, according +as the mowing instrument is good or bad, but rather as a group of large +trees, to which the axe must be laid with judgment, according to the +particular form and inclination of each separate trunk. + +How high up in military activity the admissibility of method in action +reaches naturally determines itself, not according to actual rank, but +according to things; and it affects the highest positions in a less +degree, only because these positions have the most comprehensive +subjects of activity. A constant order of battle, a constant formation +of advance guards and outposts, are methods by which a General ties +not only his subordinates' hands, but also his own in certain cases. +Certainly they may have been devised by himself, and may be applied +by him according to circumstances, but they may also be a subject of +theory, in so far as they are based on the general properties of troops +and weapons. On the other hand, any method by which definite plans +for wars or campaigns are to be given out all ready made as if from a +machine are absolutely worthless. + +As long as there exists no theory which can be sustained, that is, no +enlightened treatise on the conduct of War, method in action cannot but +encroach beyond its proper limits in high places, for men employed +in these spheres of activity have not always had the opportunity of +educating themselves, through study and through contact with the higher +interests. In the impracticable and inconsistent disquisitions of +theorists and critics they cannot find their way, their sound common +sense rejects them, and as they bring with them no knowledge but that +derived from experience, therefore in those cases which admit of, and +require, a free individual treatment they readily make use of the means +which experience gives them--that is, an imitation of the particular +methods practised by great Generals, by which a method of action then +arises of itself. If we see Frederick the Great's Generals always making +their appearance in the so-called oblique order of battle, the Generals +of the French Revolution always using turning movements with a long, +extended line of battle, and Buonaparte's lieutenants rushing to the +attack with the bloody energy of concentrated masses, then we recognise +in the recurrence of the mode of proceeding evidently an adopted +method, and see therefore that method of action can reach up to regions +bordering on the highest. Should an improved theory facilitate the study +of the conduct of War, form the mind and judgment of men who are rising +to the highest commands, then also method in action will no longer reach +so far, and so much of it as is to be considered indispensable will then +at least be formed from theory itself, and not take place out of mere +imitation. However pre-eminently a great Commander does things, there +is always something subjective in the way he does them; and if he has +a certain manner, a large share of his individuality is contained in it +which does not always accord with the individuality of the person who +copies his manner. + +At the same time, it would neither be possible nor right to banish +subjective methodicism or manner completely from the conduct of War: it +is rather to be regarded as a manifestation of that influence which the +general character of a War has upon its separate events, and to which +satisfaction can only be done in that way if theory is not able to +foresee this general character and include it in its considerations. +What is more natural than that the War of the French Revolution had its +own way of doing things? and what theory could ever have included that +peculiar method? The evil is only that such a manner originating in +a special case easily outlives itself, because it continues whilst +circumstances imperceptibly change. This is what theory should prevent +by lucid and rational criticism. When in the year 1806 the Prussian +Generals, Prince Louis at Saalfeld, Tauentzien on the Dornberg near +Jena, Grawert before and Ruechel behind Kappellendorf, all threw +themselves into the open jaws of destruction in the oblique order of +Frederick the Great, and managed to ruin Hohenlohe's Army in a way that +no Army was ever ruined, even on the field of battle, all this was done +through a manner which had outlived its day, together with the most +downright stupidity to which methodicism ever led. + + + +CHAPTER V. CRITICISM + +THE influence of theoretical principles upon real life is produced +more through criticism than through doctrine, for as criticism is an +application of abstract truth to real events, therefore it not only +brings truth of this description nearer to life, but also accustoms the +understanding more to such truths by the constant repetition of their +application. We therefore think it necessary to fix the point of view +for criticism next to that for theory. + +From the simple narration of an historical occurrence which places +events in chronological order, or at most only touches on their more +immediate causes, we separate the CRITICAL. + +In this CRITICAL three different operations of the mind may be observed. + +First, the historical investigation and determining of doubtful facts. +This is properly historical research, and has nothing in common with +theory. + +Secondly, the tracing of effects to causes. This is the REAL CRITICAL +INQUIRY; it is indispensable to theory, for everything which in theory +is to be established, supported, or even merely explained, by experience +can only be settled in this way. + +Thirdly, the testing of the means employed. This is criticism, properly +speaking, in which praise and censure is contained. This is where theory +helps history, or rather, the teaching to be derived from it. + +In these two last strictly critical parts of historical study, all +depends on tracing things to their primary elements, that is to say, +up to undoubted truths, and not, as is so often done, resting half-way, +that is, on some arbitrary assumption or supposition. + +As respects the tracing of effect to cause, that is often attended with +the insuperable difficulty that the real causes are not known. In none +of the relations of life does this so frequently happen as in War, where +events are seldom fully known, and still less motives, as the latter +have been, perhaps purposely, concealed by the chief actor, or have been +of such a transient and accidental character that they have been lost +for history. For this reason critical narration must generally proceed +hand in hand with historical investigation, and still such a want of +connection between cause and effect will often present itself, that it +does not seem justifiable to consider effects as the necessary results +of known causes. Here, therefore must occur, that is, historical results +which cannot be made use of for teaching. All that theory can demand is +that the investigation should be rigidly conducted up to that point, and +there leave off without drawing conclusions. A real evil springs up only +if the known is made perforce to suffice as an explanation of effects, +and thus a false importance is ascribed to it. + +Besides this difficulty, critical inquiry also meets with another great +and intrinsic one, which is that the progress of events in War seldom +proceeds from one simple cause, but from several in common, and that +it therefore is not sufficient to follow up a series of events to +their origin in a candid and impartial spirit, but that it is then also +necessary to apportion to each contributing cause its due weight. This +leads, therefore, to a closer investigation of their nature, and thus a +critical investigation may lead into what is the proper field of theory. + +The critical CONSIDERATION, that is, the testing of the means, leads to +the question, Which are the effects peculiar to the means applied, +and whether these effects were comprehended in the plans of the person +directing? + +The effects peculiar to the means lead to the investigation of their +nature, and thus again into the field of theory. + +We have already seen that in criticism all depends upon attaining +to positive truth; therefore, that we must not stop at arbitrary +propositions which are not allowed by others, and to which other perhaps +equally arbitrary assertions may again be opposed, so that there is no +end to pros and cons; the whole is without result, and therefore without +instruction. + +We have seen that both the search for causes and the examination +of means lead into the field of theory; that is, into the field of +universal truth, which does not proceed solely from the case immediately +under examination. If there is a theory which can be used, then the +critical consideration will appeal to the proofs there afforded, and the +examination may there stop. But where no such theoretical truth is to be +found, the inquiry must be pushed up to the original elements. If this +necessity occurs often, it must lead the historian (according to a +common expression) into a labyrinth of details. He then has his hands +full, and it is impossible for him to stop to give the requisite +attention everywhere; the consequence is, that in order to set bounds to +his investigation, he adopts some arbitrary assumptions which, if they +do not appear so to him, do so to others, as they are not evident in +themselves or capable of proof. + +A sound theory is therefore an essential foundation for criticism, and +it is impossible for it, without the assistance of a sensible theory, +to attain to that point at which it commences chiefly to be instructive, +that is, where it becomes demonstration, both convincing and sans +re'plique. + +But it would be a visionary hope to believe in the possibility of a +theory applicable to every abstract truth, leaving nothing for criticism +to do but to place the case under its appropriate law: it would be +ridiculous pedantry to lay down as a rule for criticism that it must +always halt and turn round on reaching the boundaries of sacred theory. +The same spirit of analytical inquiry which is the origin of theory must +also guide the critic in his work; and it can and must therefore happen +that he strays beyond the boundaries of the province of theory and +elucidates those points with which he is more particularly concerned. It +is more likely, on the contrary, that criticism would completely fail +in its object if it degenerated into a mechanical application of theory. +All positive results of theoretical inquiry, all principles, rules, and +methods, are the more wanting in generality and positive truth the more +they become positive doctrine. They exist to offer themselves for use as +required, and it must always be left for judgment to decide whether +they are suitable or not. Such results of theory must never be used in +criticism as rules or norms for a standard, but in the same way as the +person acting should use them, that is, merely as aids to judgment. If +it is an acknowledged principle in tactics that in the usual order of +battle cavalry should be placed behind infantry, not in line with it, +still it would be folly on this account to condemn every deviation from +this principle. Criticism must investigate the grounds of the deviation, +and it is only in case these are insufficient that it has a right to +appeal to principles laid down in theory. If it is further established +in theory that a divided attack diminishes the probability of success, +still it would be just as unreasonable, whenever there is a divided +attack and an unsuccessful issue, to regard the latter as the result of +the former, without further investigation into the connection between +the two, as where a divided attack is successful to infer from it the +fallacy of that theoretical principle. The spirit of investigation which +belongs to criticism cannot allow either. Criticism therefore supports +itself chiefly on the results of the analytical investigation of theory; +what has been made out and determined by theory does not require to be +demonstrated over again by criticism, and it is so determined by theory +that criticism may find it ready demonstrated. + +This office of criticism, of examining the effect produced by certain +causes, and whether a means applied has answered its object, will be +easy enough if cause and effect, means and end, are all near together. + +If an Army is surprised, and therefore cannot make a regular and +intelligent use of its powers and resources, then the effect of the +surprise is not doubtful.--If theory has determined that in a battle +the convergent form of attack is calculated to produce greater but +less certain results, then the question is whether he who employs that +convergent form had in view chiefly that greatness of result as his +object; if so, the proper means were chosen. But if by this form he +intended to make the result more certain, and that expectation was +founded not on some exceptional circumstances (in this case), but on the +general nature of the convergent form, as has happened a hundred times, +then he mistook the nature of the means and committed an error. + +Here the work of military investigation and criticism is easy, and it +will always be so when confined to the immediate effects and objects. +This can be done quite at option, if we abstract the connection of the +parts with the whole, and only look at things in that relation. + +But in War, as generally in the world, there is a connection between +everything which belongs to a whole; and therefore, however small a +cause may be in itself, its effects reach to the end of the act of +warfare, and modify or influence the final result in some degree, let +that degree be ever so small. In the same manner every means must be +felt up to the ultimate object. + +We can therefore trace the effects of a cause as long as events are +worth noticing, and in the same way we must not stop at the testing of a +means for the immediate object, but test also this object as a means to +a higher one, and thus ascend the series of facts in succession, until +we come to one so absolutely necessary in its nature as to require no +examination or proof. In many cases, particularly in what concerns great +and decisive measures, the investigation must be carried to the final +aim, to that which leads immediately to peace. + +It is evident that in thus ascending, at every new station which we +reach a new point of view for the judgment is attained, so that the same +means which appeared advisable at one station, when looked at from the +next above it may have to be rejected. + +The search for the causes of events and the comparison of means with +ends must always go hand in hand in the critical review of an act, for +the investigation of causes leads us first to the discovery of those +things which are worth examining. + +This following of the clue up and down is attended with considerable +difficulty, for the farther from an event the cause lies which we are +looking for, the greater must be the number of other causes which must +at the same time be kept in view and allowed for in reference to the +share which they have in the course of events, and then eliminated, +because the higher the importance of a fact the greater will be the +number of separate forces and circumstances by which it is conditioned. +If we have unravelled the causes of a battle being lost, we have +certainly also ascertained a part of the causes of the consequences +which this defeat has upon the whole War, but only a part, because the +effects of other causes, more or less according to circumstances, will +flow into the final result. + +The same multiplicity of circumstances is presented also in the +examination of the means the higher our point of view, for the higher +the object is situated, the greater must be the number of means employed +to reach it. The ultimate object of the War is the object aimed at by +all the Armies simultaneously, and it is therefore necessary that the +consideration should embrace all that each has done or could have done. + +It is obvious that this may sometimes lead to a wide field of inquiry, +in which it is easy to wander and lose the way, and in which this +difficulty prevails--that a number of assumptions or suppositions must +be made about a variety of things which do not actually appear, but +which in all probability did take place, and therefore cannot possibly +be left out of consideration. + +When Buonaparte, in 1797,(*) at the head of the Army of Italy, advanced +from the Tagliamento against the Archduke Charles, he did so with a view +to force that General to a decisive action before the reinforcements +expected from the Rhine had reached him. If we look, only at the +immediate object, the means were well chosen and justified by the +result, for the Archduke was so inferior in numbers that he only made a +show of resistance on the Tagliamento, and when he saw his adversary so +strong and resolute, yielded ground, and left open the passages, of +the Norican Alps. Now to what use could Buonaparte turn this fortunate +event? To penetrate into the heart of the Austrian empire itself, to +facilitate the advance of the Rhine Armies under Moreau and Hoche, and +open communication with them? This was the view taken by Buonaparte, +and from this point of view he was right. But now, if criticism places +itself at a higher point of view--namely, that of the French Directory, +which body could see and know that the Armies on the Rhine could not +commence the campaign for six weeks, then the advance of Buonaparte over +the Norican Alps can only be regarded as an extremely hazardous +measure; for if the Austrians had drawn largely on their Rhine Armies +to reinforce their Army in Styria, so as to enable the Archduke to fall +upon the Army of Italy, not only would that Army have been routed, but +the whole campaign lost. This consideration, which attracted the serious +attention of Buonaparte at Villach, no doubt induced him to sign the +armistice of Leoben with so much readiness. + + (*) Compare Hinterlassene Werke, 2nd edition, vol. iv. p. + 276 et seq. + +If criticism takes a still higher position, and if it knows that the +Austrians had no reserves between the Army of the Archduke Charles and +Vienna, then we see that Vienna became threatened by the advance of the +Army of Italy. + +Supposing that Buonaparte knew that the capital was thus uncovered, and +knew that he still retained the same superiority in numbers over the +Archduke as he had in Styria, then his advance against the heart of the +Austrian States was no longer without purpose, and its value depended on +the value which the Austrians might place on preserving their capital. +If that was so great that, rather than lose it, they would accept the +conditions of peace which Buonaparte was ready to offer them, it became +an object of the first importance to threaten Vienna. If Buonaparte +had any reason to know this, then criticism may stop there, but if this +point was only problematical, then criticism must take a still higher +position, and ask what would have followed if the Austrians had resolved +to abandon Vienna and retire farther into the vast dominions still left +to them. But it is easy to see that this question cannot be answered +without bringing into the consideration the probable movements of the +Rhine Armies on both sides. Through the decided superiority of numbers +on the side of the French--130,000 to 80,000--there could be little +doubt of the result; but then next arises the question, What use would +the Directory make of a victory; whether they would follow up their +success to the opposite frontiers of the Austrian monarchy, therefore +to the complete breaking up or overthrow of that power, or whether they +would be satisfied with the conquest of a considerable portion to +serve as a security for peace? The probable result in each case must +be estimated, in order to come to a conclusion as to the probable +determination of the Directory. Supposing the result of these +considerations to be that the French forces were much too weak for the +complete subjugation of the Austrian monarchy, so that the attempt might +completely reverse the respective positions of the contending Armies, +and that even the conquest and occupation of a considerable district of +country would place the French Army in strategic relations to which they +were not equal, then that result must naturally influence the estimate +of the position of the Army of Italy, and compel it to lower its +expectations. And this, it was no doubt which influenced Buonaparte, +although fully aware of the helpless condition of the Archduke, still to +sign the peace of Campo Formio, which imposed no greater sacrifices on +the Austrians than the loss of provinces which, even if the campaign +took the most favourable turn for them, they could not have reconquered. +But the French could not have reckoned on even the moderate treaty +of Campo Formio, and therefore it could not have been their object +in making their bold advance if two considerations had not presented +themselves to their view, the first of which consisted in the question, +what degree of value the Austrians would attach to each of the +above-mentioned results; whether, notwithstanding the probability of a +satisfactory result in either of these cases, would it be worth while to +make the sacrifices inseparable from a continuance of the War, when +they could be spared those sacrifices by a peace on terms not too +humiliating? The second consideration is the question whether the +Austrian Government, instead of seriously weighing the possible results +of a resistance pushed to extremities, would not prove completely +disheartened by the impression of their present reverses. + +The consideration which forms the subject of the first is no idle piece +of subtle argument, but a consideration of such decidedly practical +importance that it comes up whenever the plan of pushing War to the +utmost extremity is mooted, and by its weight in most cases restrains +the execution of such plans. + +The second consideration is of equal importance, for we do not make War +with an abstraction but with a reality, which we must always keep +in view, and we may be sure that it was not overlooked by the bold +Buonaparte--that is, that he was keenly alive to the terror which the +appearance of his sword inspired. It was reliance on that which led him +to Moscow. There it led him into a scrape. The terror of him had been +weakened by the gigantic struggles in which he had been engaged; in the +year 1797 it was still fresh, and the secret of a resistance pushed +to extremities had not been discovered; nevertheless even in 1797 his +boldness might have led to a negative result if, as already said, he had +not with a sort of presentiment avoided it by signing the moderate peace +of Campo Formio. + +We must now bring these considerations to a close--they will suffice +to show the wide sphere, the diversity and embarrassing nature of the +subjects embraced in a critical examination carried to the fullest +extent, that is, to those measures of a great and decisive class which +must necessarily be included. It follows from them that besides a +theoretical acquaintance with the subject, natural talent must also have +a great influence on the value of critical examinations, for it +rests chiefly with the latter to throw the requisite light on the +interrelations of things, and to distinguish from amongst the endless +connections of events those which are really essential. + +But talent is also called into requisition in another way. Critical +examination is not merely the appreciation of those means which have +been actually employed, but also of all possible means, which therefore +must be suggested in the first place--that is, must be discovered; and +the use of any particular means is not fairly open to censure until +a better is pointed out. Now, however small the number of possible +combinations may be in most cases, still it must be admitted that to +point out those which have not been used is not a mere analysis of +actual things, but a spontaneous creation which cannot be prescribed, +and depends on the fertility of genius. + +We are far from seeing a field for great genius in a case which admits +only of the application of a few simple combinations, and we think it +exceedingly ridiculous to hold up, as is often done, the turning of a +position as an invention showing the highest genius; still nevertheless +this creative self-activity on the part of the critic is necessary, +and it is one of the points which essentially determine the value of +critical examination. + +When Buonaparte on 30th July, 1796,(*) determined to raise the siege +of Mantua, in order to march with his whole force against the enemy, +advancing in separate columns to the relief of the place, and to beat +them in detail, this appeared the surest way to the attainment of +brilliant victories. These victories actually followed, and were +afterwards again repeated on a still more brilliant scale on the attempt +to relieve the fortress being again renewed. We hear only one opinion on +these achievements, that of unmixed admiration. + + (*) Compare Hinterlassene Werke, 2nd edition, vol. iv. p. + 107 et seq. + +At the same time, Buonaparte could not have adopted this course on +the 30th July without quite giving up the idea of the siege of Mantua, +because it was impossible to save the siege train, and it could not be +replaced by another in this campaign. In fact, the siege was converted +into a blockade, and the town, which if the siege had continued +must have very shortly fallen, held out for six months in spite of +Buonaparte's victories in the open field. + +Criticism has generally regarded this as an evil that was unavoidable, +because critics have not been able to suggest any better course. +Resistance to a relieving Army within lines of circumvallation had +fallen into such disrepute and contempt that it appears to have entirely +escaped consideration as a means. And yet in the reign of Louis XIV. +that measure was so often used with success that we can only attribute +to the force of fashion the fact that a hundred years later it +never occurred to any one even to propose such a measure. If the +practicability of such a plan had ever been entertained for a moment, +a closer consideration of circumstances would have shown that 40,000 of +the best infantry in the world under Buonaparte, behind strong lines of +circumvallation round Mantua, had so little to fear from the 50,000 men +coming to the relief under Wurmser, that it was very unlikely that any +attempt even would be made upon their lines. We shall not seek here to +establish this point, but we believe enough has been said to show +that this means was one which had a right to a share of consideration. +Whether Buonaparte himself ever thought of such a plan we leave +undecided; neither in his memoirs nor in other sources is there any +trace to be found of his having done so; in no critical works has it +been touched upon, the measure being one which the mind had lost sight +of. The merit of resuscitating the idea of this means is not great, for +it suggests itself at once to any one who breaks loose from the trammels +of fashion. Still it is necessary that it should suggest itself for +us to bring it into consideration and compare it with the means which +Buonaparte employed. Whatever may be the result of the comparison, it is +one which should not be omitted by criticism. + +When Buonaparte, in February, 1814,(*) after gaining the battles at +Etoges, Champ-Aubert, and Montmirail, left Bluecher's Army, and turning +upon Schwartzenberg, beat his troops at Montereau and Mormant, every +one was filled with admiration, because Buonaparte, by thus throwing his +concentrated force first upon one opponent, then upon another, made a +brilliant use of the mistakes which his adversaries had committed +in dividing their forces. If these brilliant strokes in different +directions failed to save him, it was generally considered to be no +fault of his, at least. No one has yet asked the question, What +would have been the result if, instead of turning from Bluecher upon +Schwartzenberg, he had tried another blow at Bluecher, and pursued him +to the Rhine? We are convinced that it would have completely changed +the course of the campaign, and that the Army of the Allies, instead of +marching to Paris, would have retired behind the Rhine. We do not ask +others to share our conviction, but no one who understands the thing +will doubt, at the mere mention of this alternative course, that it is +one which should not be overlooked in criticism. + + (*) Compare Hinterlassene Werks, 2nd edition. vol. vii. p. + 193 et seq. + +In this case the means of comparison lie much more on the surface +than in the foregoing, but they have been equally overlooked, because +one-sided views have prevailed, and there has been no freedom of +judgment. + +From the necessity of pointing out a better means which might have +been used in place of those which are condemned has arisen the form of +criticism almost exclusively in use, which contents itself with pointing +out the better means without demonstrating in what the superiority +consists. The consequence is that some are not convinced, that others +start up and do the same thing, and that thus discussion arises which +is without any fixed basis for the argument. Military literature abounds +with matter of this sort. + +The demonstration we require is always necessary when the superiority +of the means propounded is not so evident as to leave no room for doubt, +and it consists in the examination of each of the means on its own +merits, and then of its comparison with the object desired. When once +the thing is traced back to a simple truth, controversy must cease, or +at all events a new result is obtained, whilst by the other plan the +pros and cons go on for ever consuming each other. + +Should we, for example, not rest content with assertion in the case +before mentioned, and wish to prove that the persistent pursuit +of Bluecher would have been more advantageous than the turning on +Schwartzenberg, we should support the arguments on the following simple +truths: + +1. In general it is more advantageous to continue our blows in one +and the same direction, because there is a loss of time in striking in +different directions; and at a point where the moral power is already +shaken by considerable losses there is the more reason to expect fresh +successes, therefore in that way no part of the preponderance already +gained is left idle. + +2. Because Bluecher, although weaker than Schwartzenberg, was, on +account of his enterprising spirit, the more important adversary; in +him, therefore, lay the centre of attraction which drew the others along +in the same direction. + +3. Because the losses which Bluecher had sustained almost amounted to a +defeat, which gave Buonaparte such a preponderance over him as to +make his retreat to the Rhine almost certain, and at the same time no +reserves of any consequence awaited him there. + +4. Because there was no other result which would be so terrific in its +aspects, would appear to the imagination in such gigantic proportions, +an immense advantage in dealing with a Staff so weak and irresolute as +that of Schwartzenberg notoriously was at this time. What had +happened to the Crown Prince of Wartemberg at Montereau, and to Count +Wittgenstein at Mormant, Prince Schwartzenberg must have known well +enough; but all the untoward events on Bluecher's distant and separate +line from the Marne to the Rhine would only reach him by the avalanche +of rumour. The desperate movements which Buonaparte made upon Vitry at +the end of March, to see what the Allies would do if he threatened to +turn them strategically, were evidently done on the principle of working +on their fears; but it was done under far different circumstances, in +consequence of his defeat at Laon and Arcis, and because Bluecher, with +100,000 men, was then in communication with Schwartzenberg. + +There are people, no doubt, who will not be convinced on these +arguments, but at all events they cannot retort by saying, that "whilst +Buonaparte threatened Schwartzenberg's base by advancing to the Rhine, +Schwartzenberg at the same time threatened Buonaparte's communications +with Paris," because we have shown by the reasons above given that +Schwartzenberg would never have thought of marching on Paris. + +With respect to the example quoted by us from the campaign of 1796, we +should say: Buonaparte looked upon the plan he adopted as the surest +means of beating the Austrians; but admitting that it was so, still the +object to be attained was only an empty victory, which could have hardly +any sensible influence on the fall of Mantua. The way which we should +have chosen would, in our opinion, have been much more certain to +prevent the relief of Mantua; but even if we place ourselves in the +position of the French General and assume that it was not so, and look +upon the certainty of success to have been less, the question then +amounts to a choice between a more certain but less useful, and +therefore less important, victory on the one hand, and a somewhat less +probable but far more decisive and important victory, on the other +hand. Presented in this form, boldness must have declared for the second +solution, which is the reverse of what took place, when the thing +was only superficially viewed. Buonaparte certainly was anything but +deficient in boldness, and we may be sure that he did not see the whole +case and its consequences as fully and clearly as we can at the present +time. + +Naturally the critic, in treating of the means, must often appeal to +military history, as experience is of more value in the Art of War +than all philosophical truth. But this exemplification from history +is subject to certain conditions, of which we shall treat in a special +chapter and unfortunately these conditions are so seldom regarded that +reference to history generally only serves to increase the confusion of +ideas. + +We have still a most important subject to consider, which is, How far +criticism in passing judgments on particular events is permitted, or in +duty bound, to make use of its wider view of things, and therefore also +of that which is shown by results; or when and where it should leave out +of sight these things in order to place itself, as far as possible, in +the exact position of the chief actor? + +If criticism dispenses praise or censure, it should seek to place itself +as nearly as possible at the same point of view as the person acting, +that is to say, to collect all he knew and all the motives on which he +acted, and, on the other hand, to leave out of the consideration all +that the person acting could not or did not know, and above all, the +result. But this is only an object to aim at, which can never be reached +because the state of circumstances from which an event proceeded can +never be placed before the eye of the critic exactly as it lay before +the eye of the person acting. A number of inferior circumstances, which +must have influenced the result, are completely lost to sight, and many +a subjective motive has never come to light. + +The latter can only be learnt from the memoirs of the chief actor, or +from his intimate friends; and in such things of this kind are often +treated of in a very desultory manner, or purposely misrepresented. +Criticism must, therefore, always forego much which was present in the +minds of those whose acts are criticised. + +On the other hand, it is much more difficult to leave out of sight that +which criticism knows in excess. This is only easy as regards accidental +circumstances, that is, circumstances which have been mixed up, but are +in no way necessarily related. But it is very difficult, and, in fact, +can never be completely done with regard to things really essential. + +Let us take first, the result. If it has not proceeded from accidental +circumstances, it is almost impossible that the knowledge of it should +not have an effect on the judgment passed on events which have preceded +it, for we see these things in the light of this result, and it is to +a certain extent by it that we first become acquainted with them and +appreciate them. Military history, with all its events, is a source of +instruction for criticism itself, and it is only natural that criticism +should throw that light on things which it has itself obtained from the +consideration of the whole. If therefore it might wish in some cases to +leave the result out of the consideration, it would be impossible to do +so completely. + +But it is not only in relation to the result, that is, with what takes +place at the last, that this embarrassment arises; the same occurs in +relation to preceding events, therefore with the data which furnished +the motives to action. Criticism has before it, in most cases, more +information on this point than the principal in the transaction. Now +it may seem easy to dismiss from the consideration everything of +this nature, but it is not so easy as we may think. The knowledge +of preceding and concurrent events is founded not only on certain +information, but on a number of conjectures and suppositions; indeed, +there is hardly any of the information respecting things not purely +accidental which has not been preceded by suppositions or conjectures +destined to take the place of certain information in case such should +never be supplied. Now is it conceivable that criticism in after +times, which has before it as facts all the preceding and concurrent +circumstances, should not allow itself to be thereby influenced when it +asks itself the question, What portion of the circumstances, which at +the moment of action were unknown, would it have held to be probable? We +maintain that in this case, as in the case of the results, and for the +same reason, it is impossible to disregard all these things completely. + +If therefore the critic wishes to bestow praise or blame upon any single +act, he can only succeed to a certain degree in placing himself in the +position of the person whose act he has under review. In many cases +he can do so sufficiently near for any practical purpose, but in +many instances it is the very reverse, and this fact should never be +overlooked. + +But it is neither necessary nor desirable that criticism should +completely identify itself with the person acting. In War, as in all +matters of skill, there is a certain natural aptitude required which +is called talent. This may be great or small. In the first case it may +easily be superior to that of the critic, for what critic can pretend to +the skill of a Frederick or a Buonaparte? Therefore, if criticism is not +to abstain altogether from offering an opinion where eminent talent is +concerned, it must be allowed to make use of the advantage which its +enlarged horizon affords. Criticism must not, therefore, treat the +solution of a problem by a great General like a sum in arithmetic; it +is only through the results and through the exact coincidences of events +that it can recognise with admiration how much is due to the exercise +of genius, and that it first learns the essential combination which the +glance of that genius devised. + +But for every, even the smallest, act of genius it is necessary that +criticism should take a higher point of view, so that, having at command +many objective grounds of decision, it may be as little subjective as +possible, and that the critic may not take the limited scope of his own +mind as a standard. + +This elevated position of criticism, its praise and blame pronounced +with a full knowledge of all the circumstances, has in itself nothing +which hurts our feelings; it only does so if the critic pushes himself +forward, and speaks in a tone as if all the wisdom which he has obtained +by an exhaustive examination of the event under consideration were +really his own talent. Palpable as is this deception, it is one which +people may easily fall into through vanity, and one which is naturally +distasteful to others. It very often happens that although the critic +has no such arrogant pretensions, they are imputed to him by the +reader because he has not expressly disclaimed them, and then follows +immediately a charge of a want of the power of critical judgment. + +If therefore a critic points out an error made by a Frederick or a +Buonaparte, that does not mean that he who makes the criticism would not +have committed the same error; he may even be ready to grant that had +he been in the place of these great Generals he might have made much +greater mistakes; he merely sees this error from the chain of events, +and he thinks that it should not have escaped the sagacity of the +General. + +This is, therefore, an opinion formed through the connection of events, +and therefore through the RESULT. But there is another quite different +effect of the result itself upon the judgment, that is if it is used +quite alone as an example for or against the soundness of a measure. +This may be called JUDGMENT ACCORDING TO THE RESULT. Such a judgment +appears at first sight inadmissible, and yet it is not. + +When Buonaparte marched to Moscow in 1812, all depended upon whether the +taking of the capital, and the events which preceded the capture, would +force the Emperor Alexander to make peace, as he had been compelled to +do after the battle of Friedland in 1807, and the Emperor Francis in +1805 and 1809 after Austerlitz and Wagram; for if Buonaparte did not +obtain a peace at Moscow, there was no alternative but to return--that +is, there was nothing for him but a strategic defeat. We shall leave out +of the question what he did to get to Moscow, and whether in his advance +he did not miss many opportunities of bringing the Emperor Alexander +to peace; we shall also exclude all consideration of the disastrous +circumstances which attended his retreat, and which perhaps had their +origin in the general conduct of the campaign. Still the question +remains the same, for however much more brilliant the course of the +campaign up to Moscow might have been, still there was always an +uncertainty whether the Emperor Alexander would be intimidated into +making peace; and then, even if a retreat did not contain in itself the +seeds of such disasters as did in fact occur, still it could never be +anything else than a great strategic defeat. If the Emperor Alexander +agreed to a peace which was disadvantageous to him, the campaign of 1812 +would have ranked with those of Austerlitz, Friedland, and Wagram. +But these campaigns also, if they had not led to peace, would in all +probability have ended in similar catastrophes. Whatever, therefore, +of genius, skill, and energy the Conqueror of the World applied to the +task, this last question addressed to fate(*) remained always the same. +Shall we then discard the campaigns of 1805, 1807, 1809, and say on +account of the campaign of 1812 that they were acts of imprudence; +that the results were against the nature of things, and that in 1812 +strategic justice at last found vent for itself in opposition to blind +chance? That would be an unwarrantable conclusion, a most arbitrary +judgment, a case only half proved, because no human, eye can trace the +thread of the necessary connection of events up to the determination of +the conquered Princes. + + (*) "Frage an der Schicksal,"a familiar quotation from + Schiller.--TR. + +Still less can we say the campaign of 1812 merited the same success +as the others, and that the reason why it turned out otherwise lies in +something unnatural, for we cannot regard the firmness of Alexander as +something unpredictable. + +What can be more natural than to say that in the years 1805, 1807, 1809, +Buonaparte judged his opponents correctly, and that in 1812 he erred +in that point? On the former occasions, therefore, he was right, in the +latter wrong, and in both cases we judge by the RESULT. + +All action in War, as we have already said, is directed on probable, +not on certain, results. Whatever is wanting in certainty must always be +left to fate, or chance, call it which you will. We may demand that what +is so left should be as little as possible, but only in relation to the +particular case--that is, as little as is possible in this one case, but +not that the case in which the least is left to chance is always to +be preferred. That would be an enormous error, as follows from all our +theoretical views. There are cases in which the greatest daring is the +greatest wisdom. + +Now in everything which is left to chance by the chief actor, his +personal merit, and therefore his responsibility as well, seems to be +completely set aside; nevertheless we cannot suppress an inward +feeling of satisfaction whenever expectation realises itself, and if it +disappoints us our mind is dissatisfied; and more than this of right and +wrong should not be meant by the judgment which we form from the mere +result, or rather that we find there. + +Nevertheless, it cannot be denied that the satisfaction which our mind +experiences at success, the pain caused by failure, proceed from a sort +of mysterious feeling; we suppose between that success ascribed to good +fortune and the genius of the chief a fine connecting thread, invisible +to the mind's eye, and the supposition gives pleasure. What tends to +confirm this idea is that our sympathy increases, becomes more decided, +if the successes and defeats of the principal actor are often repeated. +Thus it becomes intelligible how good luck in War assumes a much nobler +nature than good luck at play. In general, when a fortunate warrior does +not otherwise lessen our interest in his behalf, we have a pleasure in +accompanying him in his career. + +Criticism, therefore, after having weighed all that comes within the +sphere of human reason and conviction, will let the result speak for +that part where the deep mysterious relations are not disclosed in +any visible form, and will protect this silent sentence of a higher +authority from the noise of crude opinions on the one hand, while on +the other it prevents the gross abuse which might be made of this last +tribunal. + +This verdict of the result must therefore always bring forth that which +human sagacity cannot discover; and it will be chiefly as regards +the intellectual powers and operations that it will be called into +requisition, partly because they can be estimated with the least +certainty, partly because their close connection with the will is +favourable to their exercising over it an important influence. When +fear or bravery precipitates the decision, there is nothing objective +intervening between them for our consideration, and consequently nothing +by which sagacity and calculation might have met the probable result. + +We must now be allowed to make a few observations on the instrument of +criticism, that is, the language which it uses, because that is to +a certain extent connected with the action in War; for the critical +examination is nothing more than the deliberation which should precede +action in War. We therefore think it very essential that the language +used in criticism should have the same character as that which +deliberation in War must have, for otherwise it would cease to be +practical, and criticism could gain no admittance in actual life. + +We have said in our observations on the theory of the conduct of War +that it should educate the mind of the Commander for War, or that its +teaching should guide his education; also that it is not intended to +furnish him with positive doctrines and systems which he can use like +mental appliances. But if the construction of scientific formulae is +never required, or even allowable, in War to aid the decision on the +case presented, if truth does not appear there in a systematic shape, +if it is not found in an indirect way, but directly by the natural +perception of the mind, then it must be the same also in a critical +review. + +It is true as we have seen that, wherever complete demonstration of the +nature of things would be too tedious, criticism must support itself on +those truths which theory has established on the point. But, just as in +War the actor obeys these theoretical truths rather because his mind is +imbued with them than because he regards them as objective inflexible +laws, so criticism must also make use of them, not as an external law +or an algebraic formula, of which fresh proof is not required each time +they are applied, but it must always throw a light on this proof itself, +leaving only to theory the more minute and circumstantial proof. Thus it +avoids a mysterious, unintelligible phraseology, and makes its progress +in plain language, that is, with a clear and always visible chain of +ideas. + +Certainly this cannot always be completely attained, but it must +always be the aim in critical expositions. Such expositions must use +complicated forms of science as sparingly as possible, and never resort +to the construction of scientific aids as of a truth apparatus of its +own, but always be guided by the natural and unbiassed impressions of +the mind. + +But this pious endeavour, if we may use the expression, has +unfortunately seldom hitherto presided over critical examinations: the +most of them have rather been emanations of a species of vanity--a wish +to make a display of ideas. + +The first evil which we constantly stumble upon is a lame, totally +inadmissible application of certain one-sided systems as of a formal +code of laws. But it is never difficult to show the one-sidedness of +such systems, and this only requires to be done once to throw discredit +for ever on critical judgments which are based on them. We have here +to deal with a definite subject, and as the number of possible systems +after all can be but small, therefore also they are themselves the +lesser evil. + +Much greater is the evil which lies in the pompous retinue of technical +terms--scientific expressions and metaphors, which these systems carry +in their train, and which like a rabble-like the baggage of an Army +broken away from its Chief--hang about in all directions. Any critic who +has not adopted a system, either because he has not found one to please +him, or because he has not yet been able to make himself master of one, +will at least occasionally make use of a piece of one, as one would use +a ruler, to show the blunders committed by a General. The most of them +are incapable of reasoning without using as a help here and there some +shreds of scientific military theory. The smallest of these fragments, +consisting in mere scientific words and metaphors, are often nothing +more than ornamental flourishes of critical narration. Now it is in the +nature of things that all technical and scientific expressions which +belong to a system lose their propriety, if they ever had any, as +soon as they are distorted, and used as general axioms, or as small +crystalline talismans, which have more power of demonstration than +simple speech. + +Thus it has come to pass that our theoretical and critical books, +instead of being straightforward, intelligible dissertations, in which +the author always knows at least what he says and the reader what he +reads, are brimful of these technical terms, which form dark points of +interference where author and reader part company. But frequently they +are something worse, being nothing but hollow shells without any kernel. +The author himself has no clear perception of what he means, contents +himself with vague ideas, which if expressed in plain language would be +unsatisfactory even to himself. + +A third fault in criticism is the MISUSE of HISTORICAL EXAMPLES, and a +display of great reading or learning. What the history of the Art of +War is we have already said, and we shall further explain our views on +examples and on military history in general in special chapters. One +fact merely touched upon in a very cursory manner may be used to support +the most opposite views, and three or four such facts of the most +heterogeneous description, brought together out of the most distant +lands and remote times and heaped up, generally distract and bewilder +the judgment and understanding without demonstrating anything; for when +exposed to the light they turn out to be only trumpery rubbish, made use +of to show off the author's learning. + +But what can be gained for practical life by such obscure, partly false, +confused arbitrary conceptions? So little is gained that theory on +account of them has always been a true antithesis of practice, and +frequently a subject of ridicule to those whose soldierly qualities in +the field are above question. + +But it is impossible that this could have been the case, if theory +in simple language, and by natural treatment of those things which +constitute the Art of making War, had merely sought to establish just so +much as admits of being established; if, avoiding all false pretensions +and irrelevant display of scientific forms and historical parallels, it +had kept close to the subject, and gone hand in hand with those who must +conduct affairs in the field by their own natural genius. + + + +CHAPTER VI. ON EXAMPLES + +EXAMPLES from history make everything clear, and furnish the best +description of proof in the empirical sciences. This applies with more +force to the Art of War than to any other. General Scharnhorst, whose +handbook is the best ever written on actual War, pronounces historical +examples to be of the first importance, and makes an admirable use of +them himself. Had he survived the War in which he fell,(*) the fourth +part of his revised treatise on artillery would have given a still +greater proof of the observing and enlightened spirit in which he sifted +matters of experience. + +But such use of historical examples is rarely made by theoretical +writers; the way in which they more commonly make use of them is rather +calculated to leave the mind unsatisfied, as well as to offend the +understanding. We therefore think it important to bring specially into +view the use and abuse of historical examples. + + (*) General Scharnhorst died in 1813, of a wound received in + the battle of Bautzen or Grosz Gorchen--EDITOR. + +Unquestionably the branches of knowledge which lie at the foundation of +the Art of War come under the denomination of empirical sciences; for +although they are derived in a great measure from the nature of things, +still we can only learn this very nature itself for the most part from +experience; and besides that, the practical application is modified by +so many circumstances that the effects can never be completely learnt +from the mere nature of the means. + +The effects of gunpowder, that great agent in our military activity, +were only learnt by experience, and up to this hour experiments are +continually in progress in order to investigate them more fully. That an +iron ball to which powder has given a velocity of 1000 feet in a +second, smashes every living thing which it touches in its course is +intelligible in itself; experience is not required to tell us that; but +in producing this effect how many hundred circumstances are concerned, +some of which can only be learnt by experience! And the physical is not +the only effect which we have to study, it is the moral which we are in +search of, and that can only be ascertained by experience; and there is +no other way of learning and appreciating it but by experience. In the +middle ages, when firearms were first invented, their effect, owing to +their rude make, was materially but trifling compared to what it now is, +but their effect morally was much greater. One must have witnessed the +firmness of one of those masses taught and led by Buonaparte, under the +heaviest and most unintermittent cannonade, in order to understand what +troops, hardened by long practice in the field of danger, can do, +when by a career of victory they have reached the noble principle of +demanding from themselves their utmost efforts. In pure conception no +one would believe it. On the other hand, it is well known that there are +troops in the service of European Powers at the present moment who would +easily be dispersed by a few cannon shots. + +But no empirical science, consequently also no theory of the Art of War, +can always corroborate its truths by historical proof; it would also be, +in some measure, difficult to support experience by single facts. If +any means is once found efficacious in War, it is repeated; one nation +copies another, the thing becomes the fashion, and in this manner it +comes into use, supported by experience, and takes its place in theory, +which contents itself with appealing to experience in general in order +to show its origin, but not as a verification of its truth. + +But it is quite otherwise if experience is to be used in order to +overthrow some means in use, to confirm what is doubtful, or introduce +something new; then particular examples from history must be quoted as +proofs. + +Now, if we consider closely the use of historical proofs, four points of +view readily present themselves for the purpose. + +First, they may be used merely as an EXPLANATION of an idea. In every +abstract consideration it is very easy to be misunderstood, or not to +be intelligible at all: when an author is afraid of this, an +exemplification from history serves to throw the light which is wanted +on his idea, and to ensure his being intelligible to his reader. + +Secondly, it may serve as an APPLICATION of an idea, because by means of +an example there is an opportunity of showing the action of those minor +circumstances which cannot all be comprehended and explained in any +general expression of an idea; for in that consists, indeed, the +difference between theory and experience. Both these cases belong to +examples properly speaking, the two following belong to historical +proofs. + +Thirdly, a historical fact may be referred to particularly, in order to +support what one has advanced. This is in all cases sufficient, if we +have ONLY to prove the POSSIBILITY of a fact or effect. + +Lastly, in the fourth place, from the circumstantial detail of a +historical event, and by collecting together several of them, we may +deduce some theory, which therefore has its true PROOF in this testimony +itself. + +For the first of these purposes all that is generally required is a +cursory notice of the case, as it is only used partially. Historical +correctness is a secondary consideration; a case invented might also +serve the purpose as well, only historical ones are always to be +preferred, because they bring the idea which they illustrate nearer to +practical life. + +The second use supposes a more circumstantial relation of events, but +historical authenticity is again of secondary importance, and in respect +to this point the same is to be said as in the first case. + +For the third purpose the mere quotation of an undoubted fact is +generally sufficient. If it is asserted that fortified positions may +fulfil their object under certain conditions, it is only necessary to +mention the position of Bunzelwitz(*) in support of the assertion. + + (*) Frederick the Great's celebrated entrenched camp in + 1761. + +But if, through the narrative of a case in history, an abstract truth +is to be demonstrated, then everything in the case bearing on the +demonstration must be analysed in the most searching and complete +manner; it must, to a certain extent, develop itself carefully before +the eyes of the reader. The less effectually this is done the weaker +will be the proof, and the more necessary it will be to supply the +demonstrative proof which is wanting in the single case by a number of +cases, because we have a right to suppose that the more minute details +which we are unable to give neutralise each other in their effects in a +certain number of cases. + +If we want to show by example derived from experience that cavalry +are better placed behind than in a line with infantry; that it is very +hazardous without a decided preponderance of numbers to attempt an +enveloping movement, with widely separated columns, either on a field +of battle or in the theatre of war--that is, either tactically or +strategically--then in the first of these cases it would not be +sufficient to specify some lost battles in which the cavalry was on the +flanks and some gained in which the cavalry was in rear of the infantry; +and in the tatter of these cases it is not sufficient to refer to the +battles of Rivoli and Wagram, to the attack of the Austrians on the +theatre of war in Italy, in 1796, or of the French upon the German +theatre of war in the same year. The way in which these orders of battle +or plans of attack essentially contributed to disastrous issues in those +particular cases must be shown by closely tracing out circumstances and +occurrences. Then it will appear how far such forms or measures are to +be condemned, a point which it is very necessary to show, for a total +condemnation would be inconsistent with truth. + +It has been already said that when a circumstantial detail of facts is +impossible, the demonstrative power which is deficient may to a certain +extent be supplied by the number of cases quoted; but this is a very +dangerous method of getting out of the difficulty, and one which has +been much abused. Instead of one well-explained example, three or four +are just touched upon, and thus a show is made of strong evidence. But +there are matters where a whole dozen of cases brought forward would +prove nothing, if, for instance, they are facts of frequent occurrence, +and therefore a dozen other cases with an opposite result might just as +easily be brought forward. If any one will instance a dozen lost battles +in which the side beaten attacked in separate converging columns, we +can instance a dozen that have been gained in which the same order was +adopted. It is evident that in this way no result is to be obtained. + +Upon carefully considering these different points, it will be seen how +easily examples may be misapplied. + +An occurrence which, instead of being carefully analysed in all its +parts, is superficially noticed, is like an object seen at a great +distance, presenting the same appearance on each side, and in which the +details of its parts cannot be distinguished. Such examples have, in +reality, served to support the most contradictory opinions. To some +Daun's campaigns are models of prudence and skill. To others, they are +nothing but examples of timidity and want of resolution. Buonaparte's +passage across the Noric Alps in 1797 may be made to appear the noblest +resolution, but also as an act of sheer temerity. His strategic defeat +in 1812 may be represented as the consequence either of an excess, or of +a deficiency, of energy. All these opinions have been broached, and +it is easy to see that they might very well arise, because each person +takes a different view of the connection of events. At the same time +these antagonistic opinions cannot be reconciled with each other, and +therefore one of the two must be wrong. + +Much as we are obliged to the worthy Feuquieres for the numerous +examples introduced in his memoirs--partly because a number of +historical incidents have thus been preserved which might otherwise +have been lost, and partly because he was one of the first to bring +theoretical, that is, abstract, ideas into connection with the practical +in war, in so far that the cases brought forward may be regarded as +intended to exemplify and confirm what is theoretically asserted--yet, +in the opinion of an impartial reader, he will hardly be allowed to have +attained the object he proposed to himself, that of proving theoretical +principles by historical examples. For although he sometimes relates +occurrences with great minuteness, still he falls short very often of +showing that the deductions drawn necessarily proceed from the inner +relations of these events. + +Another evil which comes from the superficial notice of historical +events, is that some readers are either wholly ignorant of the events, +or cannot call them to remembrance sufficiently to be able to grasp +the author's meaning, so that there is no alternative between either +accepting blindly what is said, or remaining unconvinced. + +It is extremely difficult to put together or unfold historical events +before the eyes of a reader in such a way as is necessary, in order +to be able to use them as proofs; for the writer very often wants the +means, and can neither afford the time nor the requisite space; but +we maintain that, when the object is to establish a new or doubtful +opinion, one single example, thoroughly analysed, is far more +instructive than ten which are superficially treated. The great mischief +of these superficial representations is not that the writer puts his +story forward as a proof when it has only a false title, but that he +has not made himself properly acquainted with the subject, and that from +this sort of slovenly, shallow treatment of history, a hundred false +views and attempts at the construction of theories arise, which would +never have made their appearance if the writer had looked upon it as his +duty to deduce from the strict connection of events everything new which +he brought to market, and sought to prove from history. + +When we are convinced of these difficulties in the use of historical +examples, and at the same time of the necessity (of making use of such +examples), then we shall also come to the conclusion that the latest +military history is naturally the best field from which to draw them, +inasmuch as it alone is sufficiently authentic and detailed. + +In ancient times, circumstances connected with War, as well as the +method of carrying it on, were different; therefore its events are +of less use to us either theoretically or practically; in addition to +which, military history, like every other, naturally loses in the course +of time a number of small traits and lineaments originally to be seen, +loses in colour and life, like a worn-out or darkened picture; so that +perhaps at last only the large masses and leading features remain, which +thus acquire undue proportions. + +If we look at the present state of warfare, we should say that the Wars +since that of the Austrian succession are almost the only ones which, +at least as far as armament, have still a considerable similarity to +the present, and which, notwithstanding the many important changes which +have taken place both great and small, are still capable of affording +much instruction. It is quite otherwise with the War of the Spanish +succession, as the use of fire-arms had not then so far advanced towards +perfection, and cavalry still continued the most important arm. The +farther we go back, the less useful becomes military history, as it gets +so much the more meagre and barren of detail. The most useless of all is +that of the old world. + +But this uselessness is not altogether absolute, it relates only to +those subjects which depend on a knowledge of minute details, or on +those things in which the method of conducting war has changed. Although +we know very little about the tactics in the battles between the Swiss +and the Austrians, the Burgundians and French, still we find in them +unmistakable evidence that they were the first in which the superiority +of a good infantry over the best cavalry was, displayed. A general +glance at the time of the Condottieri teaches us how the whole method +of conducting War is dependent on the instrument used; for at no period +have the forces used in War had so much the characteristics of a special +instrument, and been a class so totally distinct from the rest of the +national community. The memorable way in which the Romans in the second +Punic War attacked the Carthaginan possessions in Spain and Africa, +while Hannibal still maintained himself in Italy, is a most instructive +subject to study, as the general relations of the States and Armies +concerned in this indirect act of defence are sufficiently well known. + +But the more things descend into particulars and deviate in character +from the most general relations, the less we can look for examples and +lessons of experience from very remote periods, for we have neither the +means of judging properly of corresponding events, nor can we apply them +to our completely different method of War. + +Unfortunately, however, it has always been the fashion with historical +writers to talk about ancient times. We shall not say how far vanity +and charlatanism may have had a share in this, but in general we fail +to discover any honest intention and earnest endeavour to instruct +and convince, and we can therefore only look upon such quotations and +references as embellishments to fill up gaps and hide defects. + +It would be an immense service to teach the Art of War entirely by +historical examples, as Feuquieres proposed to do; but it would be full +work for the whole life of a man, if we reflect that he who undertakes +it must first qualify himself for the task by a long personal experience +in actual War. + +Whoever, stirred by ambition, undertakes such a task, let him prepare +himself for his pious undertaking as for a long pilgrimage; let him give +up his time, spare no sacrifice, fear no temporal rank or power, and +rise above all feelings of personal vanity, of false shame, in order, +according to the French code, to speak THE TRUTH, THE WHOLE TRUTH, AND +NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. + + + + + +BOOK III. OF STRATEGY IN GENERAL + +CHAPTER I. STRATEGY + +IN the second chapter of the second book, Strategy has been defined as +"the employment of the battle as the means towards the attainment of the +object of the War." Properly speaking it has to do with nothing but the +battle, but its theory must include in this consideration the instrument +of this real activity--the armed force--in itself and in its principal +relations, for the battle is fought by it, and shows its effects upon +it in turn. It must be well acquainted with the battle itself as far as +relates to its possible results, and those mental and moral powers which +are the most important in the use of the same. + +Strategy is the employment of the battle to gain the end of the War; it +must therefore give an aim to the whole military action, which must be +in accordance with the object of the War; in other words, Strategy forms +the plan of the War, and to this end it links together the series of +acts which are to lead to the final decision, that, is to say, it makes +the plans for the separate campaigns and regulates the combats to be +fought in each. As these are all things which to a great extent can only +be determined on conjectures some of which turn out incorrect, while a +number of other arrangements pertaining to details cannot be made at +all beforehand, it follows, as a matter of course, that Strategy must go +with the Army to the field in order to arrange particulars on the spot, +and to make the modifications in the general plan, which incessantly +become necessary in War. Strategy can therefore never take its hand from +the work for a moment. + +That this, however, has not always been the view taken is evident from +the former custom of keeping Strategy in the cabinet and not with the +Army, a thing only allowable if the cabinet is so near to the Army that +it can be taken for the chief head-quarters of the Army. + +Theory will therefore attend on Strategy in the determination of its +plans, or, as we may more properly say, it will throw a light on things +in themselves, and on their relations to each other, and bring out +prominently the little that there is of principle or rule. + +If we recall to mind from the first chapter how many things of +the highest importance War touches upon, we may conceive that a +consideration of all requires a rare grasp of mind. + +A Prince or General who knows exactly how to organise his War according +to his object and means, who does neither too little nor too much, gives +by that the greatest proof of his genius. But the effects of this talent +are exhibited not so much by the invention of new modes of action, which +might strike the eye immediately, as in the successful final result of +the whole. It is the exact fulfilment of silent suppositions, it is the +noiseless harmony of the whole action which we should admire, and which +only makes itself known in the total result. Inquirer who, tracing back +from the final result, does not perceive the signs of that harmony is +one who is apt to seek for genius where it is not, and where it cannot +be found. + +The means and forms which Strategy uses are in fact so extremely +simple, so well known by their constant repetition, that it only appears +ridiculous to sound common sense when it hears critics so frequently +speaking of them with high-flown emphasis. Turning a flank, which has +been done a thousand times, is regarded here as a proof of the most +brilliant genius, there as a proof of the most profound penetration, +indeed even of the most comprehensive knowledge. Can there be in the +book-world more absurd productions?(*) + + (*) This paragraph refers to the works of Lloyd, Buelow, + indeed to all the eighteenth-century writers, from whose + influence we in England are not even yet free.--ED. + +It is still more ridiculous if, in addition to this, we reflect that the +same critic, in accordance with prevalent opinion, excludes all moral +forces from theory, and will not allow it to be concerned with +anything but the material forces, so that all must be confined to a few +mathematical relations of equilibrium and preponderance, of time and +space, and a few lines and angles. If it were nothing more than this, +then out of such a miserable business there would not be a scientific +problem for even a schoolboy. + +But let us admit: there is no question here about scientific formulas +and problems; the relations of material things are all very simple; the +right comprehension of the moral forces which come into play is more +difficult. Still, even in respect to them, it is only in the highest +branches of Strategy that moral complications and a great diversity of +quantities and relations are to be looked for, only at that point where +Strategy borders on political science, or rather where the two become +one, and there, as we have before observed, they have more influence +on the "how much" and "how little" is to be done than on the form of +execution. Where the latter is the principal question, as in the single +acts both great and small in War, the moral quantities are already +reduced to a very small number. + +Thus, then, in Strategy everything is very simple, but not on that +account very easy. Once it is determined from the relations of the State +what should and may be done by War, then the way to it is easy to find; +but to follow that way straightforward, to carry out the plan without +being obliged to deviate from it a thousand times by a thousand varying +influences, requires, besides great strength of character, great +clearness and steadiness of mind, and out of a thousand men who are +remarkable, some for mind, others for penetration, others again for +boldness or strength of will, perhaps not one will combine in himself +all those qualities which are required to raise a man above mediocrity +in the career of a general. + +It may sound strange, but for all who know War in this respect it is a +fact beyond doubt, that much more strength of will is required to make +an important decision in Strategy than in tactics. In the latter we are +hurried on with the moment; a Commander feels himself borne along in +a strong current, against which he durst not contend without the most +destructive consequences, he suppresses the rising fears, and boldly +ventures further. In Strategy, where all goes on at a slower rate, there +is more room allowed for our own apprehensions and those of others, +for objections and remonstrances, consequently also for unseasonable +regrets; and as we do not see things in Strategy as we do at least +half of them in tactics, with the living eye, but everything must be +conjectured and assumed, the convictions produced are less powerful. The +consequence is that most Generals, when they should act, remain stuck +fast in bewildering doubts. + +Now let us cast a glance at history--upon Frederick the Great's campaign +of 1760, celebrated for its fine marches and manoeuvres: a perfect +masterpiece of Strategic skill as critics tell us. Is there really +anything to drive us out of our wits with admiration in the King's first +trying to turn Daun's right flank, then his left, then again his right, +&c.? Are we to see profound wisdom in this? No, that we cannot, if we +are to decide naturally and without affectation. What we rather admire +above all is the sagacity of the King in this respect, that while +pursuing a great object with very limited means, he undertook nothing +beyond his powers, and JUST ENOUGH to gain his object. This sagacity of +the General is visible not only in this campaign, but throughout all the +three Wars of the Great King! + +To bring Silesia into the safe harbour of a well-guaranteed peace was +his object. + +At the head of a small State, which was like other States in most +things, and only ahead of them in some branches of administration; he +could not be an Alexander, and, as Charles XII, he would only, like him, +have broken his head. We find, therefore, in the whole of his conduct +of War, a controlled power, always well balanced, and never wanting in +energy, which in the most critical moments rises to astonishing deeds, +and the next moment oscillates quietly on again in subordination to the +play of the most subtle political influences. Neither vanity, thirst for +glory, nor vengeance could make him deviate from his course, and this +course alone it is which brought him to a fortunate termination of the +contest. + +These few words do but scant justice to this phase of the genius of the +great General; the eyes must be fixed carefully on the extraordinary +issue of the struggle, and the causes which brought about that issue +must be traced out, in order thoroughly to understand that nothing but +the King's penetrating eye brought him safely out of all his dangers. + +This is one feature in this great Commander which we admire in the +campaign of 1760--and in all others, but in this especially--because in +none did he keep the balance even against such a superior hostile force, +with such a small sacrifice. + +Another feature relates to the difficulty of execution. Marches to turn +a flank, right or left, are easily combined; the idea of keeping a small +force always well concentrated to be able to meet the enemy on equal +terms at any point, to multiply a force by rapid movement, is as easily +conceived as expressed; the mere contrivance in these points, therefore, +cannot excite our admiration, and with respect to such simple things, +there is nothing further than to admit that they are simple. + +But let a General try to do these things like Frederick the Great. Long +afterwards authors, who were eyewitnesses, have spoken of the danger, +indeed of the imprudence, of the King's camps, and doubtless, at the +time he pitched them, the danger appeared three times as great as +afterwards. + +It was the same with his marches, under the eyes, nay, often under the +cannon of the enemy's Army; these camps were taken up, these marches +made, not from want of prudence, but because in Daun's system, in his +mode of drawing up his Army, in the responsibility which pressed upon +him, and in his character, Frederick found that security which +justified his camps and marches. But it required the King's boldness, +determination, and strength of will to see things in this light, and +not to be led astray and intimidated by the danger of which thirty years +after people still wrote and spoke. Few Generals in this situation would +have believed these simple strategic means to be practicable. + +Again, another difficulty in execution lay in this, that the King's Army +in this campaign was constantly in motion. Twice it marched by wretched +cross-roads, from the Elbe into Silesia, in rear of Daun and pursued by +Lascy (beginning of July, beginning of August). It required to be always +ready for battle, and its marches had to be organised with a degree of +skill which necessarily called forth a proportionate amount of exertion. +Although attended and delayed by thousands of waggons, still its +subsistence was extremely difficult. In Silesia, for eight days before +the battle of Leignitz, it had constantly to march, defiling alternately +right and left in front of the enemy:--this costs great fatigue, and +entails great privations. + +Is it to be supposed that all this could have been done without +producing great friction in the machine? Can the mind of a Commander +elaborate such movements with the same ease as the hand of a land +surveyor uses the astrolabe? Does not the sight of the sufferings of +their hungry, thirsty comrades pierce the hearts of the Commander and +his Generals a thousand times? Must not the murmurs and doubts which +these cause reach his ear? Has an ordinary man the courage to demand +such sacrifices, and would not such efforts most certainly demoralise +the Army, break up the bands of discipline, and, in short, undermine its +military virtue, if firm reliance on the greatness and infallibility of +the Commander did not compensate for all? Here, therefore, it is that +we should pay respect; it is these miracles of execution which we should +admire. But it is impossible to realise all this in its full force +without a foretaste of it by experience. He who only knows War from +books or the drill-ground cannot realise the whole effect of this +counterpoise in action; WE BEG HIM, THEREFORE, TO ACCEPT FROM US ON +FAITH AND TRUST ALL THAT HE IS UNABLE TO SUPPLY FROM ANY PERSONAL +EXPERIENCES OF HIS OWN. + +This illustration is intended to give more clearness to the course of +our ideas, and in closing this chapter we will only briefly observe that +in our exposition of Strategy we shall describe those separate subjects +which appear to us the most important, whether of a moral or material +nature; then proceed from the simple to the complex, and conclude with +the inner connection of the whole act of War, in other words, with the +plan for a War or campaign. + + +OBSERVATION. + +In an earlier manuscript of the second book are the following passages +endorsed by the author himself to be used for the first Chapter of the +second Book: the projected revision of that chapter not having been +made, the passages referred to are introduced here in full. + + +By the mere assemblage of armed forces at a particular point, a +battle there becomes possible, but does not always take place. Is that +possibility now to be regarded as a reality and therefore an effective +thing? Certainly, it is so by its results, and these effects, whatever +they may be, can never fail. + + +1. POSSIBLE COMBATS ARE ON ACCOUNT OF THEIR RESULTS TO BE LOOKED UPON AS +REAL ONES. + +If a detachment is sent away to cut off the retreat of a flying enemy, +and the enemy surrenders in consequence without further resistance, +still it is through the combat which is offered to him by this +detachment sent after him that he is brought to his decision. + +If a part of our Army occupies an enemy's province which was undefended, +and thus deprives the enemy of very considerable means of keeping up +the strength of his Army, it is entirely through the battle which our +detached body gives the enemy to expect, in case he seeks to recover the +lost province, that we remain in possession of the same. + +In both cases, therefore, the mere possibility of a battle has produced +results, and is therefore to be classed amongst actual events. Suppose +that in these cases the enemy has opposed our troops with others +superior in force, and thus forced ours to give up their object without +a combat, then certainly our plan has failed, but the battle which we +offered at (either of) those points has not on that account been without +effect, for it attracted the enemy's forces to that point. And in case +our whole undertaking has done us harm, it cannot be said that these +positions, these possible battles, have been attended with no results; +their effects, then, are similar to those of a lost battle. + +In this manner we see that the destruction of the enemy's military +forces, the overthrow of the enemy's power, is only to be done through +the effect of a battle, whether it be that it actually takes place, or +that it is merely offered, and not accepted. + + +2. TWOFOLD OBJECT OF THE COMBAT. + +But these effects are of two kinds, direct and indirect they are of the +latter, if other things intrude themselves and become the object of the +combat--things which cannot be regarded as the destruction of enemy's +force, but only leading up to it, certainly by a circuitous road, but +with so much the greater effect. The possession of provinces, towns, +fortresses, roads, bridges, magazines, &c., may be the IMMEDIATE object +of a battle, but never the ultimate one. Things of this description +can never be, looked upon otherwise than as means of gaining greater +superiority, so as at last to offer battle to the enemy in such a way +that it will be impossible for him to accept it. Therefore all these +things must only be regarded as intermediate links, steps, as it were, +leading up to the effectual principle, but never as that principle +itself. + +3. EXAMPLE. + +In 1814, by the capture of Buonaparte's capital the object of the War +was attained. The political divisions which had their roots in Paris +came into active operation, and an enormous split left the power of the +Emperor to collapse of itself. Nevertheless the point of view from which +we must look at all this is, that through these causes the forces and +defensive means of Buonaparte were suddenly very much diminished, +the superiority of the Allies, therefore, just in the same measure +increased, and any further resistance then became IMPOSSIBLE. It was +this impossibility which produced the peace with France. If we suppose +the forces of the Allies at that moment diminished to a like extent +through external causes;--if the superiority vanishes, then at the same +time vanishes also all the effect and importance of the taking of Paris. + +We have gone through this chain of argument in order to show that this +is the natural and only true view of the thing from which it derives +its importance. It leads always back to the question, What at any given +moment of the War or campaign will be the probable result of the great +or small combats which the two sides might offer to each other? In the +consideration of a plan for a campaign, this question only is decisive +as to the measures which are to be taken all through from the very +commencement. + + +4. WHEN THIS VIEW IS NOT TAKEN, THEN A FALSE VALUE IS GIVEN TO OTHER +THINGS. + +If we do not accustom ourselves to look upon War, and the single +campaigns in a War, as a chain which is all composed of battles strung +together, one of which always brings on another; if we adopt the idea +that the taking of a certain geographical point, the occupation of an +undefended province, is in itself anything; then we are very likely to +regard it as an acquisition which we may retain; and if we look at +it so, and not as a term in the whole series of events, we do not ask +ourselves whether this possession may not lead to greater disadvantages +hereafter. How often we find this mistake recurring in military history. + +We might say that, just as in commerce the merchant cannot set apart and +place in security gains from one single transaction by itself, so in +War a single advantage cannot be separated from the result of the whole. +Just as the former must always operate with the whole bulk of his means, +just so in War, only the sum total will decide on the advantage or +disadvantage of each item. + +If the mind's eye is always directed upon the series of combats, so far +as they can be seen beforehand, then it is always looking in the right +direction, and thereby the motion of the force acquires that rapidity, +that is to say, willing and doing acquire that energy which is suitable +to the matter, and which is not to be thwarted or turned aside by +extraneous influences.(*) + + (*) The whole of this chapter is directed against the + theories of the Austrian Staff in 1814. It may be taken as + the foundation of the modern teaching of the Prussian + General Staff. See especially von Kammer.--ED. + + + +CHAPTER II. ELEMENTS OF STRATEGY + +THE causes which condition the use of the combat in Strategy may be +easily divided into elements of different kinds, such as the moral, +physical, mathematical, geographical and statistical elements. + +The first class includes all that can be called forth by moral qualities +and effects; to the second belong the whole mass of the military force, +its organisation, the proportion of the three arms, &c. &c.; to the +third, the angle of the lines of operation, the concentric and eccentric +movements in as far as their geometrical nature has any value in +the calculation; to the fourth, the influences of country, such as +commanding points, hills, rivers, woods, roads, &c. &c.; lastly, to the +fifth, all the means of supply. The separation of these things once for +all in the mind does good in giving clearness and helping us to estimate +at once, at a higher or lower value, the different classes as we pass +onwards. For, in considering them separately, many lose of themselves +their borrowed importance; one feels, for instance, quite plainly that +the value of a base of operations, even if we look at nothing in it but +its relative position to the line of operations, depends much less in +that simple form on the geometrical element of the angle which they +form with one another, than on the nature of the roads and the country +through which they pass. + +But to treat upon Strategy according to these elements would be the +most unfortunate idea that could be conceived, for these elements are +generally manifold, and intimately connected with each other in every +single operation of War. We should lose ourselves in the most soulless +analysis, and as if in a horrid dream, we should be for ever trying in +vain to build up an arch to connect this base of abstractions with facts +belonging to the real world. Heaven preserve every theorist from such an +undertaking! We shall keep to the world of things in their totality, and +not pursue our analysis further than is necessary from time to time to +give distinctness to the idea which we wish to impart, and which +has come to us, not by a speculative investigation, but through the +impression made by the realities of War in their entirety. + + +CHAPTER III. MORAL FORCES + +WE must return again to this subject, which is touched upon in the third +chapter of the second book, because the moral forces are amongst the +most important subjects in War. They form the spirit which permeates the +whole being of War. These forces fasten themselves soonest and with the +greatest affinity on to the Will which puts in motion and guides the +whole mass of powers, uniting with it as it were in one stream, because +this is a moral force itself. Unfortunately they will escape from all +book-analysis, for they will neither be brought into numbers nor into +classes, and require to be both seen and felt. + +The spirit and other moral qualities which animate an Army, a General, +or Governments, public opinion in provinces in which a War is raging, +the moral effect of a victory or of a defeat, are things which in +themselves vary very much in their nature, and which also, according +as they stand with regard to our object and our relations, may have an +influence in different ways. + +Although little or nothing can be said about these things in books, +still they belong to the theory of the Art of War, as much as everything +else which constitutes War. For I must here once more repeat that it is +a miserable philosophy if, according to the old plan, we establish rules +and principles wholly regardless of all moral forces, and then, as soon +as these forces make their appearance, we begin to count exceptions +which we thereby establish as it were theoretically, that is, make into +rules; or if we resort to an appeal to genius, which is above all rules, +thus giving out by implication, not only that rules were only made for +fools, but also that they themselves are no better than folly. + +Even if the theory of the Art of War does no more in reality than recall +these things to remembrance, showing the necessity of allowing to +the moral forces their full value, and of always taking them into +consideration, by so doing it extends its borders over the region of +immaterial forces, and by establishing that point of view, condemns +beforehand every one who would endeavour to justify himself before its +judgment seat by the mere physical relations of forces. + +Further out of regard to all other so-called rules, theory cannot +banish the moral forces beyond its frontier, because the effects of the +physical forces and the moral are completely fused, and are not to +be decomposed like a metal alloy by a chemical process. In every rule +relating to the physical forces, theory must present to the mind at the +same time the share which the moral powers will have in it, if it +would not be led to categorical propositions, at one time too timid +and contracted, at another too dogmatical and wide. Even the most +matter-of-fact theories have, without knowing it, strayed over into this +moral kingdom; for, as an example, the effects of a victory cannot +in any way be explained without taking into consideration the moral +impressions. And therefore the most of the subjects which we shall go +through in this book are composed half of physical, half of moral causes +and effects, and we might say the physical are almost no more than +the wooden handle, whilst the moral are the noble metal, the real +bright-polished weapon. + +The value of the moral powers, and their frequently incredible +influence, are best exemplified by history, and this is the most +generous and the purest nourishment which the mind of the General can +extract from it.--At the same time it is to be observed, that it is +less demonstrations, critical examinations, and learned treatises, than +sentiments, general impressions, and single flashing sparks of truth, +which yield the seeds of knowledge that are to fertilise the mind. + +We might go through the most important moral phenomena in War, and with +all the care of a diligent professor try what we could impart about +each, either good or bad. But as in such a method one slides too much +into the commonplace and trite, whilst real mind quickly makes its +escape in analysis, the end is that one gets imperceptibly to the +relation of things which everybody knows. We prefer, therefore, to +remain here more than usually incomplete and rhapsodical, content to +have drawn attention to the importance of the subject in a general way, +and to have pointed out the spirit in which the views given in this book +have been conceived. + + + +CHAPTER IV. THE CHIEF MORAL POWERS + +THESE are The Talents of the Commander; The Military Virtue of the Army; +Its National feeling. Which of these is the most important no one can +tell in a general way, for it is very difficult to say anything in +general of their strength, and still more difficult to compare the +strength of one with that of another. The best plan is not to undervalue +any of them, a fault which human judgment is prone to, sometimes on one +side, sometimes on another, in its whimsical oscillations. It is better +to satisfy ourselves of the undeniable efficacy of these three things by +sufficient evidence from history. + +It is true, however, that in modern times the Armies of European states +have arrived very much at a par as regards discipline and fitness +for service, and that the conduct of War has--as philosophers would +say--naturally developed itself, thereby become a method, common as +it were to all Armies, so that even from Commanders there is nothing +further to be expected in the way of application of special means +of Art, in the limited sense (such as Frederick the Second's oblique +order). Hence it cannot be denied that, as matters now stand, greater +scope is afforded for the influence of National spirit and habituation +of an army to War. A long peace may again alter all this.(*) + + (*) Written shortly after the Great Napoleonic campaigns. + +The national spirit of an Army (enthusiasm, fanatical zeal, faith, +opinion) displays itself most in mountain warfare, where every one down +to the common soldier is left to himself. On this account, a mountainous +country is the best campaigning ground for popular levies. + +Expertness of an Army through training, and that well-tempered courage +which holds the ranks together as if they had been cast in a mould, show +their superiority in an open country. + +The talent of a General has most room to display itself in a closely +intersected, undulating country. In mountains he has too little command +over the separate parts, and the direction of all is beyond his powers; +in open plains it is simple and does not exceed those powers. + +According to these undeniable elective affinities, plans should be +regulated. + + +CHAPTER V. MILITARY VIRTUE OF AN ARMY + +THIS is distinguished from mere bravery, and still more from enthusiasm +for the business of War. The first is certainly a necessary constituent +part of it, but in the same way as bravery, which is a natural gift in +some men, may arise in a soldier as a part of an Army from habit and +custom, so with him it must also have a different direction from +that which it has with others. It must lose that impulse to unbridled +activity and exercise of force which is its characteristic in the +individual, and submit itself to demands of a higher kind, to obedience, +order, rule, and method. Enthusiasm for the profession gives life and +greater fire to the military virtue of an Army, but does not necessarily +constitute a part of it. + +War is a special business, and however general its relations may be, and +even if all the male population of a country, capable of bearing arms, +exercise this calling, still it always continues to be different and +separate from the other pursuits which occupy the life of man.--To be +imbued with a sense of the spirit and nature of this business, to make +use of, to rouse, to assimilate into the system the powers which should +be active in it, to penetrate completely into the nature of the +business with the understanding, through exercise to gain confidence and +expertness in it, to be completely given up to it, to pass out of the +man into the part which it is assigned to us to play in War, that is the +military virtue of an Army in the individual. + +However much pains may be taken to combine the soldier and the citizen +in one and the same individual, whatever may be done to nationalise +Wars, and however much we may imagine times have changed since the days +of the old Condottieri, never will it be possible to do away with the +individuality of the business; and if that cannot be done, then those +who belong to it, as long as they belong to it, will always look upon +themselves as a kind of guild, in the regulations, laws and customs in +which the "Spirit of War" by preference finds its expression. And so it +is in fact. Even with the most decided inclination to look at War from +the highest point of view, it would be very wrong to look down upon this +corporate spirit (e'sprit de corps) which may and should exist more +or less in every Army. This corporate spirit forms the bond of union +between the natural forces which are active in that which we have called +military virtue. The crystals of military virtue have a greater affinity +for the spirit of a corporate body than for anything else. + +An Army which preserves its usual formations under the heaviest fire, +which is never shaken by imaginary fears, and in the face of real danger +disputes the ground inch by inch, which, proud in the feeling of its +victories, never loses its sense of obedience, its respect for and +confidence in its leaders, even under the depressing effects of defeat; +an Army with all its physical powers, inured to privations and fatigue +by exercise, like the muscles of an athlete; an Army which looks upon +all its toils as the means to victory, not as a curse which hovers over +its standards, and which is always reminded of its duties and virtues by +the short catechism of one idea, namely the HONOUR OF ITS ARMS;--Such an +Army is imbued with the true military spirit. + +Soldiers may fight bravely like the Vende'ans, and do great things like +the Swiss, the Americans, or Spaniards, without displaying this military +virtue. A Commander may also be successful at the head of standing +Armies, like Eugene and Marlborough, without enjoying the benefit of its +assistance; we must not, therefore, say that a successful War without +it cannot be imagined; and we draw especial attention to that point, +in order the more to individualise the conception which is here brought +forward, that the idea may not dissolve into a generalisation and that +it may not be thought that military virtue is in the end everything. It +is not so. Military virtue in an Army is a definite moral power which +may be supposed wanting, and the influence of which may therefore be +estimated--like any instrument the power of which may be calculated. + +Having thus characterised it, we proceed to consider what can be +predicated of its influence, and what are the means of gaining its +assistance. + +Military virtue is for the parts, what the genius of the Commander is +for the whole. The General can only guide the whole, not each separate +part, and where he cannot guide the part, there military virtue must +be its leader. A General is chosen by the reputation of his superior +talents, the chief leaders of large masses after careful probation; but +this probation diminishes as we descend the scale of rank, and in just +the same measure we may reckon less and less upon individual talents; +but what is wanting in this respect military virtue should supply. The +natural qualities of a warlike people play just this part: BRAVERY, +APTITUDE, POWERS OF ENDURANCE and ENTHUSIASM. + +These properties may therefore supply the place of military virtue, and +vice versa, from which the following may be deduced: + +1. Military virtue is a quality of standing Armies only, but they +require it the most. In national risings its place is supplied by +natural qualities, which develop themselves there more rapidly. + +2. Standing Armies opposed to standing Armies, can more easily dispense +with it, than a standing Army opposed to a national insurrection, for in +that case, the troops are more scattered, and the divisions left more +to themselves. But where an Army can be kept concentrated, the genius of +the General takes a greater place, and supplies what is wanting in the +spirit of the Army. Therefore generally military virtue becomes more +necessary the more the theatre of operations and other circumstances +make the War complicated, and cause the forces to be scattered. + +From these truths the only lesson to be derived is this, that if an Army +is deficient in this quality, every endeavour should be made to simplify +the operations of the War as much as possible, or to introduce double +efficiency in the organisation of the Army in some other respect, and +not to expect from the mere name of a standing Army, that which only the +veritable thing itself can give. + +The military virtue of an Army is, therefore, one of the most important +moral powers in War, and where it is wanting, we either see its +place supplied by one of the others, such as the great superiority +of generalship or popular enthusiasm, or we find the results not +commensurate with the exertions made.--How much that is great, this +spirit, this sterling worth of an army, this refining of ore into +the polished metal, has already done, we see in the history of the +Macedonians under Alexander, the Roman legions under Cesar, the Spanish +infantry under Alexander Farnese, the Swedes under Gustavus Adolphus +and Charles XII, the Prussians under Frederick the Great, and the French +under Buonaparte. We must purposely shut our eyes against all historical +proof, if we do not admit, that the astonishing successes of these +Generals and their greatness in situations of extreme difficulty, were +only possible with Armies possessing this virtue. + +This spirit can only be generated from two sources, and only by these +two conjointly; the first is a succession of campaigns and great +victories; the other is, an activity of the Army carried sometimes to +the highest pitch. Only by these, does the soldier learn to know his +powers. The more a General is in the habit of demanding from his troops, +the surer he will be that his demands will be answered. The soldier is +as proud of overcoming toil, as he is of surmounting danger. Therefore +it is only in the soil of incessant activity and exertion that the germ +will thrive, but also only in the sunshine of victory. Once it becomes a +STRONG TREE, it will stand against the fiercest storms of misfortune and +defeat, and even against the indolent inactivity of peace, at least +for a time. It can therefore only be created in War, and under great +Generals, but no doubt it may last at least for several generations, +even under Generals of moderate capacity, and through considerable +periods of peace. + +With this generous and noble spirit of union in a line of veteran +troops, covered with scars and thoroughly inured to War, we must not +compare the self-esteem and vanity of a standing Army,(*) held together +merely by the glue of service-regulations and a drill book; a certain +plodding earnestness and strict discipline may keep up military virtue +for a long time, but can never create it; these things therefore have a +certain value, but must not be over-rated. Order, smartness, good will, +also a certain degree of pride and high feeling, are qualities of an +Army formed in time of peace which are to be prized, but cannot stand +alone. The whole retains the whole, and as with glass too quickly +cooled, a single crack breaks the whole mass. Above all, the highest +spirit in the world changes only too easily at the first check into +depression, and one might say into a kind of rhodomontade of alarm, the +French sauve que peut.--Such an Army can only achieve something through +its leader, never by itself. It must be led with double caution, until +by degrees, in victory and hardships, the strength grows into the full +armour. Beware then of confusing the SPIRIT of an Army with its temper. + + (*) Clausewitz is, of course, thinking of the long-service + standing armies of his own youth. Not of the short-service + standing armies of to-day (EDITOR). + + + +CHAPTER VI. BOLDNESS + +THE place and part which boldness takes in the dynamic system of powers, +where it stands opposed to Foresight and prudence, has been stated in +the chapter on the certainty of the result in order thereby to show, +that theory has no right to restrict it by virtue of its legislative +power. + +But this noble impulse, with which the human soul raises itself above +the most formidable dangers, is to be regarded as an active principle +peculiarly belonging to War. In fact, in what branch of human activity +should boldness have a right of citizenship if not in War? + +From the transport-driver and the drummer up to the General, it is the +noblest of virtues, the true steel which gives the weapon its edge and +brilliancy. + +Let us admit in fact it has in War even its own prerogatives. Over and +above the result of the calculation of space, time, and quantity, we +must allow a certain percentage which boldness derives from the weakness +of others, whenever it gains the mastery. It is therefore, virtually, a +creative power. This is not difficult to demonstrate philosophically. As +often as boldness encounters hesitation, the probability of the result +is of necessity in its favour, because the very state of hesitation +implies a loss of equilibrium already. It is only when it encounters +cautious foresight--which we may say is just as bold, at all events just +as strong and powerful as itself--that it is at a disadvantage; such +cases, however, rarely occur. Out of the whole multitude of prudent men +in the world, the great majority are so from timidity. + +Amongst large masses, boldness is a force, the special cultivation of +which can never be to the detriment of other forces, because the great +mass is bound to a higher will by the frame-work and joints of the order +of battle and of the service, and therefore is guided by an intelligent +power which is extraneous. Boldness is therefore here only like a spring +held down until its action is required. + +The higher the rank the more necessary it is that boldness should +be accompanied by a reflective mind, that it may not be a mere blind +outburst of passion to no purpose; for with increase of rank it +becomes always less a matter of self-sacrifice and more a matter of the +preservation of others, and the good of the whole. Where regulations +of the service, as a kind of second nature, prescribe for the masses, +reflection must be the guide of the General, and in his case individual +boldness in action may easily become a fault. Still, at the same time, +it is a fine failing, and must not be looked at in the same light as any +other. Happy the Army in which an untimely boldness frequently manifests +itself; it is an exuberant growth which shows a rich soil. Even +foolhardiness, that is boldness without an object, is not to be +despised; in point of fact it is the same energy of feeling, only +exercised as a kind of passion without any co-operation of the +intelligent faculties. It is only when it strikes at the root of +obedience, when it treats with contempt the orders of superior +authority, that it must be repressed as a dangerous evil, not on its own +account but on account of the act of disobedience, for there is nothing +in War which is of GREATER IMPORTANCE THAN OBEDIENCE. + +The reader will readily agree with us that, supposing an equal degree of +discernment to be forthcoming in a certain number of cases, a thousand +times as many of them will end in disaster through over-anxiety as +through boldness. + +One would suppose it natural that the interposition of a reasonable +object should stimulate boldness, and therefore lessen its intrinsic +merit, and yet the reverse is the case in reality. + +The intervention of lucid thought or the general supremacy of mind +deprives the emotional forces of a great part of their power. On that +account BOLDNESS BECOMES OF RARER OCCURRENCE THE HIGHER WE ASCEND THE +SCALE OF RANK, for whether the discernment and the understanding do or +do not increase with these ranks still the Commanders, in their several +stations as they rise, are pressed upon more and more severely by +objective things, by relations and claims from without, so that they +become the more perplexed the lower the degree of their individual +intelligence. This so far as regards War is the chief foundation of the +truth of the French proverb:-- + +"Tel brille au second qui s' e'clipse an premier." + + +Almost all the Generals who are represented in history as merely having +attained to mediocrity, and as wanting in decision when in supreme +command, are men celebrated in their antecedent career for their +boldness and decision.(*) + + (*) Beaulieu, Benedek, Bazaine, Buller, Melas, Mack. &c. &c. + +In those motives to bold action which arise from the pressure of +necessity we must make a distinction. Necessity has its degrees of +intensity. If it lies near at hand, if the person acting is in the +pursuit of his object driven into great dangers in order to escape +others equally great, then we can only admire his resolution, +which still has also its value. If a young man to show his skill in +horsemanship leaps across a deep cleft, then he is bold; if he makes +the same leap pursued by a troop of head-chopping Janissaries he is only +resolute. But the farther off the necessity from the point of action, +the greater the number of relations intervening which the mind has to +traverse; in order to realise them, by so much the less does necessity +take from boldness in action. If Frederick the Great, in the year 1756, +saw that War was inevitable, and that he could only escape destruction +by being beforehand with his enemies, it became necessary for him to +commence the War himself, but at the same time it was certainly very +bold: for few men in his position would have made up their minds to do +so. + +Although Strategy is only the province of Generals-in-Chief or +Commanders in the higher positions, still boldness in all the other +branches of an Army is as little a matter of indifference to it as their +other military virtues. With an Army belonging to a bold race, and in +which the spirit of boldness has been always nourished, very different +things may be undertaken than with one in which this virtue, is unknown; +for that reason we have considered it in connection with an Army. But +our subject is specially the boldness of the General, and yet we have +not much to say about it after having described this military virtue in +a general way to the best of our ability. + +The higher we rise in a position of command, the more of the mind, +understanding, and penetration predominate in activity, the more +therefore is boldness, which is a property of the feelings, kept in +subjection, and for that reason we find it so rarely in the highest +positions, but then, so much the more should it be admired. Boldness, +directed by an overruling intelligence, is the stamp of the hero: this +boldness does not consist in venturing directly against the nature of +things, in a downright contempt of the laws of probability, but, if +a choice is once made, in the rigorous adherence to that higher +calculation which genius, the tact of judgment, has gone over with the +speed of lightning. The more boldness lends wings to the mind and the +discernment, so much the farther they will reach in their flight, so +much the more comprehensive will be the view, the more exact the result, +but certainly always only in the sense that with greater objects greater +dangers are connected. The ordinary man, not to speak of the weak +and irresolute, arrives at an exact result so far as such is possible +without ocular demonstration, at most after diligent reflection in his +chamber, at a distance from danger and responsibility. Let danger and +responsibility draw close round him in every direction, then he loses +the power of comprehensive vision, and if he retains this in any measure +by the influence of others, still he will lose his power of DECISION, +because in that point no one can help him. + +We think then that it is impossible to imagine a distinguished General +without boldness, that is to say, that no man can become one who is not +born with this power of the soul, and we therefore look upon it as +the first requisite for such a career. How much of this inborn power, +developed and moderated through education and the circumstances of +life, is left when the man has attained a high position, is the second +question. The greater this power still is, the stronger will genius +be on the wing, the higher will be its flight. The risks become always +greater, but the purpose grows with them. Whether its lines proceed out +of and get their direction from a distant necessity, or whether they +converge to the keystone of a building which ambition has planned, +whether Frederick or Alexander acts, is much the same as regards the +critical view. If the one excites the imagination more because it is +bolder, the other pleases the understanding most, because it has in it +more absolute necessity. + +We have still to advert to one very important circumstance. + +The spirit of boldness can exist in an Army, either because it is in the +people, or because it has been generated in a successful War conducted +by able Generals. In the latter case it must of course be dispensed with +at the commencement. + +Now in our days there is hardly any other means of educating the spirit +of a people in this respect, except by War, and that too under bold +Generals. By it alone can that effeminacy of feeling be counteracted, +that propensity to seek for the enjoyment of comfort, which cause +degeneracy in a people rising in prosperity and immersed in an extremely +busy commerce. + +A Nation can hope to have a strong position in the political world only +if its character and practice in actual War mutually support each other +in constant reciprocal action. + + + +CHAPTER VII. PERSEVERANCE + +THE reader expects to hear of angles and lines, and finds, instead of +these citizens of the scientific world, only people out of common life, +such as he meets with every day in the street. And yet the author cannot +make up his mind to become a hair's breadth more mathematical than the +subject seems to him to require, and he is not alarmed at the surprise +which the reader may show. + +In War more than anywhere else in the world things happen differently to +what we had expected, and look differently when near, to what they +did at a distance. With what serenity the architect can watch his work +gradually rising and growing into his plan. The doctor although much +more at the mercy of mysterious agencies and chances than the architect, +still knows enough of the forms and effects of his means. In War, on +the other hand, the Commander of an immense whole finds himself in a +constant whirlpool of false and true information, of mistakes +committed through fear, through negligence, through precipitation, +of contraventions of his authority, either from mistaken or correct +motives, from ill will, true or false sense of duty, indolence or +exhaustion, of accidents which no mortal could have foreseen. In short, +he is the victim of a hundred thousand impressions, of which the most +have an intimidating, the fewest an encouraging tendency. By long +experience in War, the tact is acquired of readily appreciating the +value of these incidents; high courage and stability of character stand +proof against them, as the rock resists the beating of the waves. He who +would yield to these impressions would never carry out an undertaking, +and on that account PERSEVERANCE in the proposed object, as long as +there is no decided reason against it, is a most necessary counterpoise. +Further, there is hardly any celebrated enterprise in War which was not +achieved by endless exertion, pains, and privations; and as here the +weakness of the physical and moral man is ever disposed to yield, only +an immense force of will, which manifests itself in perseverance admired +by present and future generations, can conduct to our goal. + + + +CHAPTER VIII. SUPERIORITY OF NUMBERS + +THIS is in tactics, as well as in Strategy, the most general principle +of victory, and shall be examined by us first in its generality, for +which we may be permitted the following exposition: + +Strategy fixes the point where, the time when, and the numerical force +with which the battle is to be fought. By this triple determination it +has therefore a very essential influence on the issue of the combat. If +tactics has fought the battle, if the result is over, let it be victory +or defeat, Strategy makes such use of it as can be made in accordance +with the great object of the War. This object is naturally often a very +distant one, seldom does it lie quite close at hand. A series of other +objects subordinate themselves to it as means. These objects, which +are at the same time means to a higher purpose, may be practically of +various kinds; even the ultimate aim of the whole War may be a different +one in every case. We shall make ourselves acquainted with these things +according as we come to know the separate objects which they come, in +contact with; and it is not our intention here to embrace the whole +subject by a complete enumeration of them, even if that were possible. +We therefore let the employment of the battle stand over for the +present. + +Even those things through which Strategy has an influence on the issue +of the combat, inasmuch as it establishes the same, to a certain extent +decrees them, are not so simple that they can be embraced in one single +view. For as Strategy appoints time, place and force, it can do so in +practice in many ways, each of which influences in a different manner +the result of the combat as well as its consequences. Therefore we shall +only get acquainted with this also by degrees, that is, through the +subjects which more closely determine the application. + +If we strip the combat of all modifications which it may undergo +according to its immediate purpose and the circumstances from which it +proceeds, lastly if we set aside the valour of the troops, because that +is a given quantity, then there remains only the bare conception of the +combat, that is a combat without form, in which we distinguish nothing +but the number of the combatants. + +This number will therefore determine victory. Now from the number +of things above deducted to get to this point, it is shown that the +superiority in numbers in a battle is only one of the factors +employed to produce victory that therefore so far from having with the +superiority in number obtained all, or even only the principal thing, we +have perhaps got very little by it, according as the other circumstances +which co-operate happen to vary. + +But this superiority has degrees, it may be imagined as twofold, +threefold or fourfold, and every one sees, that by increasing in this +way, it must (at last) overpower everything else. + +In such an aspect we grant, that the superiority in numbers is the most +important factor in the result of a combat, only it must be sufficiently +great to be a counterpoise to all the other co-operating circumstances. +The direct result of this is, that the greatest possible number of +troops should be brought into action at the decisive point. + +Whether the troops thus brought are sufficient or not, we have then done +in this respect all that our means allowed. This is the first principle +in Strategy, therefore in general as now stated, it is just as well +suited for Greeks and Persians, or for Englishmen and Mahrattas, as +for French and Germans. But we shall take a glance at our relations in +Europe, as respects War, in order to arrive at some more definite idea +on this subject. + +Here we find Armies much more alike in equipment, organisation, and +practical skill of every kind. There only remains a difference in the +military virtue of Armies, and in the talent of Generals which may +fluctuate with time from side to side. If we go through the military +history of modern Europe, we find no example of a Marathon. + +Frederick the Great beat 80,000 Austrians at Leuthen with about 30,000 +men, and at Rosbach with 25,000 some 50,000 allies; these are however +the only instances of victories gained against an enemy double, or more +than double in numbers. Charles XII, in the battle of Narva, we cannot +well quote, for the Russians were at that time hardly to be regarded as +Europeans, also the principal circumstances, even of the battle, are +too little known. Buonaparte had at Dresden 120,000 against 220,000, +therefore not the double. At Kollin, Frederick the Great did not +succeed, with 30,000 against 50,000 Austrians, neither did Buonaparte +in the desperate battle of Leipsic, where he was 160,000 strong, against +280,000. + +From this we may infer, that it is very difficult in the present state +of Europe, for the most talented General to gain a victory over an enemy +double his strength. Now if we see double numbers prove such a weight +in the scale against the greatest Generals, we may be sure, that +in ordinary cases, in small as well as great combats, an important +superiority of numbers, but which need not be over two to one, will +be sufficient to ensure the victory, however disadvantageous other +circumstances may be. Certainly, we may imagine a defile which even +tenfold would not suffice to force, but in such a case it can be no +question of a battle at all. + +We think, therefore, that under our conditions, as well as in all +similar ones, the superiority at the decisive point is a matter of +capital importance, and that this subject, in the generality of cases, +is decidedly the most important of all. The strength at the decisive +point depends on the absolute strength of the Army, and on skill in +making use of it. + +The first rule is therefore to enter the field with an Army as strong +as possible. This sounds very like a commonplace, but still it is really +not so. + +In order to show that for a long time the strength of forces was by no +means regarded as a chief point, we need only observe, that in most, +and even in the most detailed histories of the Wars in the eighteenth +century, the strength of the Armies is either not given at all, or +only incidentally, and in no case is any special value laid upon it. +Tempelhof in his history of the Seven Years' War is the earliest writer +who gives it regularly, but at the same time he does it only very +superficially. + +Even Massenbach, in his manifold critical observations on the Prussian +campaigns of 1793-94 in the Vosges, talks a great deal about hills and +valleys, roads and footpaths, but does not say a syllable about mutual +strength. + +Another proof lies in a wonderful notion which haunted the heads of many +critical historians, according to which there was a certain size of an +Army which was the best, a normal strength, beyond which the forces in +excess were burdensome rather than serviceable.(*) + + (*) Tempelhof and Montalembert are the first we recollect as + examples--the first in a passage of his first part, page + 148; the other in his correspondence relative to the plan of + operations of the Russians in 1759. + +Lastly, there are a number of instances to be found, in which all the +available forces were not really brought into the battle,(*) or into the +War, because the superiority of numbers was not considered to have that +importance which in the nature of things belongs to it. + +(*) The Prussians at Jena, 1806. Wellington at Waterloo. + + +If we are thoroughly penetrated with the conviction that with a +considerable superiority of numbers everything possible is to be +effected, then it cannot fail that this clear conviction reacts on the +preparations for the War, so as to make us appear in the field with +as many troops as possible, and either to give us ourselves the +superiority, or at least to guard against the enemy obtaining it. So +much for what concerns the absolute force with which the War is to be +conducted. + +The measure of this absolute force is determined by the Government; and +although with this determination the real action of War commences, and +it forms an essential part of the Strategy of the War, still in most +cases the General who is to command these forces in the War must regard +their absolute strength as a given quantity, whether it be that he has +had no voice in fixing it, or that circumstances prevented a sufficient +expansion being given to it. + +There remains nothing, therefore, where an absolute superiority is not +attainable, but to produce a relative one at the decisive point, by +making skilful use of what we have. + +The calculation of space and time appears as the most essential thing to +this end--and this has caused that subject to be regarded as one which +embraces nearly the whole art of using military forces. Indeed, some +have gone so far as to ascribe to great strategists and tacticians a +mental organ peculiarly adapted to this point. + +But the calculation of time and space, although it lies universally at +the foundation of Strategy, and is to a certain extent its daily bread, +is still neither the most difficult, nor the most decisive one. + +If we take an unprejudiced glance at military history, we shall find +that the instances in which mistakes in such a calculation have proved +the cause of serious losses are very rare, at least in Strategy. But if +the conception of a skilful combination of time and space is fully to +account for every instance of a resolute and active Commander beating +several separate opponents with one and the same army (Frederick +the Great, Buonaparte), then we perplex ourselves unnecessarily with +conventional language. For the sake of clearness and the profitable use +of conceptions, it is necessary that things should always be called by +their right names. + +The right appreciation of their opponents (Daun, Schwartzenberg), the +audacity to leave for a short space of time a small force only before +them, energy in forced marches, boldness in sudden attacks, the +intensified activity which great souls acquire in the moment of danger, +these are the grounds of such victories; and what have these to do with +the ability to make an exact calculation of two such simple things as +time and space? + +But even this ricochetting play of forces, "when the victories at +Rosbach and Montmirail give the impulse to victories at Leuthen and +Montereau," to which great Generals on the defensive have often trusted, +is still, if we would be clear and exact, only a rare occurrence in +history. + +Much more frequently the relative superiority--that is, the skilful +assemblage of superior forces at the decisive point--has its foundation +in the right appreciation of those points, in the judicious direction +which by that means has been given to the forces from the very first, +and in the resolution required to sacrifice the unimportant to the +advantage of the important--that is, to keep the forces concentrated in +an overpowering mass. In this, Frederick the Great and Buonaparte are +particularly characteristic. + +We think we have now allotted to the superiority in numbers the +importance which belongs to it; it is to be regarded as the fundamental +idea, always to be aimed at before all and as far as possible. + +But to regard it on this account as a necessary condition of victory +would be a complete misconception of our exposition; in the conclusion +to be drawn from it there lies nothing more than the value which should +attach to numerical strength in the combat. If that strength is made as +great as possible, then the maxim is satisfied; a review of the total +relations must then decide whether or not the combat is to be avoided +for want of sufficient force.(*) + + (*) Owing to our freedom from invasion, and to the condition + which arise in our Colonial Wars, we have not yet, in + England, arrived at a correct appreciation of the value of + superior numbers in War, and still adhere to the idea of an + Army just "big enough," which Clausewitz has so unsparingly + ridiculed. (EDITOR.) + + + +CHAPTER IX. THE SURPRISE + +FROM the subject of the foregoing chapter, the general endeavour to +attain a relative superiority, there follows another endeavour which +must consequently be just as general in its nature: this is the +SURPRISE of the enemy. It lies more or less at the foundation of all +undertakings, for without it the preponderance at the decisive point is +not properly conceivable. + +The surprise is, therefore, not only the means to the attainment of +numerical superiority; but it is also to be regarded as a substantive +principle in itself, on account of its moral effect. When it is +successful in a high degree, confusion and broken courage in the enemy's +ranks are the consequences; and of the degree to which these multiply +a success, there are examples enough, great and small. We are not now +speaking of the particular surprise which belongs to the attack, but of +the endeavour by measures generally, and especially by the distribution +of forces, to surprise the enemy, which can be imagined just as well in +the defensive, and which in the tactical defence particularly is a chief +point. + +We say, surprise lies at the foundation of all undertakings without +exception, only in very different degrees according to the nature of the +undertaking and other circumstances. + +This difference, indeed, originates in the properties or peculiarities +of the Army and its Commander, in those even of the Government. + +Secrecy and rapidity are the two factors in this product and these +suppose in the Government and the Commander-in-Chief great energy, and +on the part of the Army a high sense of military duty. With effeminacy +and loose principles it is in vain to calculate upon a surprise. But so +general, indeed so indispensable, as is this endeavour, and true as it +is that it is never wholly unproductive of effect, still it is not +the less true that it seldom succeeds to a REMARKABLE degree, and this +follows from the nature of the idea itself. We should form an erroneous +conception if we believed that by this means chiefly there is much to be +attained in War. In idea it promises a great deal; in the execution it +generally sticks fast by the friction of the whole machine. + +In tactics the surprise is much more at home, for the very natural +reason that all times and spaces are on a smaller scale. It will, +therefore, in Strategy be the more feasible in proportion as the +measures lie nearer to the province of tactics, and more difficult the +higher up they lie towards the province of policy. + +The preparations for a War usually occupy several months; the assembly +of an Army at its principal positions requires generally the formation +of depots and magazines, and long marches, the object of which can be +guessed soon enough. + +It therefore rarely happens that one State surprises another by a +War, or by the direction which it gives the mass of its forces. In the +seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, when War turned very much upon +sieges, it was a frequent aim, and quite a peculiar and important +chapter in the Art of War, to invest a strong place unexpectedly, but +even that only rarely succeeded.(*) + + (*) Railways, steamships, and telegraphs have, however, + enormously modified the relative importance and + practicability of surprise. (EDITOR.) + +On the other hand, with things which can be done in a day or two, a +surprise is much more conceivable, and, therefore, also it is often not +difficult thus to gain a march upon the enemy, and thereby a position, a +point of country, a road, &c. But it is evident that what surprise gains +in this way in easy execution, it loses in the efficacy, as the greater +the efficacy the greater always the difficulty of execution. Whoever +thinks that with such surprises on a small scale, he may connect great +results--as, for example, the gain of a battle, the capture of an +important magazine--believes in something which it is certainly very +possible to imagine, but for which there is no warrant in history; for +there are upon the whole very few instances where anything great has +resulted from such surprises; from which we may justly conclude that +inherent difficulties lie in the way of their success. + +Certainly, whoever would consult history on such points must not depend +on sundry battle steeds of historical critics, on their wise dicta and +self-complacent terminology, but look at facts with his own eyes. There +is, for instance, a certain day in the campaign in Silesia, 1761, which, +in this respect, has attained a kind of notoriety. It is the 22nd July, +on which Frederick the Great gained on Laudon the march to Nossen, near +Neisse, by which, as is said, the junction of the Austrian and Russian +armies in Upper Silesia became impossible, and, therefore, a period of +four weeks was gained by the King. Whoever reads over this occurrence +carefully in the principal histories,(*) and considers it impartially, +will, in the march of the 22nd July, never find this importance; and +generally in the whole of the fashionable logic on this subject, he will +see nothing but contradictions; but in the proceedings of Laudon, in +this renowned period of manoeuvres, much that is unaccountable. How +could one, with a thirst for truth, and clear conviction, accept such +historical evidence? + + (*) Tempelhof, The Veteran, Frederick the Great. Compare + also (Clausewitz) "Hinterlassene Werke," vol. x., p. 158. + +When we promise ourselves great effects in a campaign from the principle +of surprising, we think upon great activity, rapid resolutions, and +forced marches, as the means of producing them; but that these things, +even when forthcoming in a very high degree, will not always produce the +desired effect, we see in examples given by Generals, who may be allowed +to have had the greatest talent in the use of these means, Frederick the +Great and Buonaparte. The first when he left Dresden so suddenly in +July 1760, and falling upon Lascy, then turned against Dresden, gained +nothing by the whole of that intermezzo, but rather placed his affairs +in a condition notably worse, as the fortress Glatz fell in the +meantime. + +In 1813, Buonaparte turned suddenly from Dresden twice against Bluecher, +to say nothing of his incursion into Bohemia from Upper Lusatia, and +both times without in the least attaining his object. They were blows in +the air which only cost him time and force, and might have placed him in +a dangerous position in Dresden. + +Therefore, even in this field, a surprise does not necessarily meet with +great success through the mere activity, energy, and resolution of the +Commander; it must be favoured by other circumstances. But we by +no means deny that there can be success; we only connect with it a +necessity of favourable circumstances, which, certainly do not occur +very frequently, and which the Commander can seldom bring about himself. + +Just those two Generals afford each a striking illustration of this. We +take first Buonaparte in his famous enterprise against Bluecher's +Army in February 1814, when it was separated from the Grand Army, and +descending the Marne. It would not be easy to find a two days' march to +surprise the enemy productive of greater results than this; Bluecher's +Army, extended over a distance of three days' march, was beaten in +detail, and suffered a loss nearly equal to that of defeat in a great +battle. This was completely the effect of a surprise, for if Bluecher +had thought of such a near possibility of an attack from Buonaparte(*) +he would have organised his march quite differently. To this mistake of +Bluecher's the result is to be attributed. Buonaparte did not know all +these circumstances, and so there was a piece of good fortune that mixed +itself up in his favour. + + (*) Bluecher believed his march to be covered by Pahlen's + Cossacks, but these had been withdrawn without warning to + him by the Grand Army Headquarters under Schwartzenberg. + +It is the same with the battle of Liegnitz, 1760. Frederick the Great +gained this fine victory through altering during the night a position +which he had just before taken up. Laudon was through this completely +surprised, and lost 70 pieces of artillery and 10,000 men. Although +Frederick the Great had at this time adopted the principle of moving +backwards and forwards in order to make a battle impossible, or at least +to disconcert the enemy's plans, still the alteration of position on the +night of the 14-15 was not made exactly with that intention, but as the +King himself says, because the position of the 14th did not please +him. Here, therefore, also chance was hard at work; without this happy +conjunction of the attack and the change of position in the night, and +the difficult nature of the country, the result would not have been the +same. + +Also in the higher and highest province of Strategy there are some +instances of surprises fruitful in results. We shall only cite the +brilliant marches of the Great Elector against the Swedes from Franconia +to Pomerania and from the Mark (Brandenburg) to the Pregel in 1757, and +the celebrated passage of the Alps by Buonaparte, 1800. In the latter +case an Army gave up its whole theatre of war by a capitulation, and in +1757 another Army was very near giving up its theatre of war and itself +as well. Lastly, as an instance of a War wholly unexpected, we may +bring forward the invasion of Silesia by Frederick the Great. Great and +powerful are here the results everywhere, but such events are not common +in history if we do not confuse with them cases in which a State, for +want of activity and energy (Saxony 1756, and Russia, 1812), has not +completed its preparations in time. + +Now there still remains an observation which concerns the essence of the +thing. A surprise can only be effected by that party which gives the law +to the other; and he who is in the right gives the law. If we surprise +the adversary by a wrong measure, then instead of reaping good results, +we may have to bear a sound blow in return; in any case the adversary +need not trouble himself much about our surprise, he has in our mistake +the means of turning off the evil. As the offensive includes in itself +much more positive action than the defensive, so the surprise is +certainly more in its place with the assailant, but by no means +invariably, as we shall hereafter see. Mutual surprises by the offensive +and defensive may therefore meet, and then that one will have the +advantage who has hit the nail on the head the best. + +So should it be, but practical life does not keep to this line so +exactly, and that for a very simple reason. The moral effects which +attend a surprise often convert the worst case into a good one for +the side they favour, and do not allow the other to make any regular +determination. We have here in view more than anywhere else not only the +chief Commander, but each single one, because a surprise has the effect +in particular of greatly loosening unity, so that the individuality of +each separate leader easily comes to light. + +Much depends here on the general relation in which the two parties stand +to each other. If the one side through a general moral superiority can +intimidate and outdo the other, then he can make use of the surprise +with more success, and even reap good fruit where properly he should +come to ruin. + + + +CHAPTER X. STRATAGEM + +STRATAGEM implies a concealed intention, and therefore is opposed to +straightforward dealing, in the same way as wit is the opposite +of direct proof. It has therefore nothing in common with means of +persuasion, of self-interest, of force, but a great deal to do with +deceit, because that likewise conceals its object. It is itself a deceit +as well when it is done, but still it differs from what is commonly +called deceit, in this respect that there is no direct breach of word. +The deceiver by stratagem leaves it to the person himself whom he is +deceiving to commit the errors of understanding which at last, flowing +into ONE result, suddenly change the nature of things in his eyes. +We may therefore say, as nit is a sleight of hand with ideas and +conceptions, so stratagem is a sleight of hand with actions. + +At first sight it appears as if Strategy had not improperly derived its +name from stratagem; and that, with all the real and apparent changes +which the whole character of War has undergone since the time of the +Greeks, this term still points to its real nature. + +If we leave to tactics the actual delivery of the blow, the battle +itself, and look upon Strategy as the art of using this means with +skill, then besides the forces of the character, such as burning +ambition which always presses like a spring, a strong will which hardly +bends &c. &c., there seems no subjective quality so suited to guide +and inspire strategic activity as stratagem. The general tendency +to surprise, treated of in the foregoing chapter, points to this +conclusion, for there is a degree of stratagem, be it ever so small, +which lies at the foundation of every attempt to surprise. + +But however much we feel a desire to see the actors in War outdo each +other in hidden activity, readiness, and stratagem, still we must admit +that these qualities show themselves but little in history, and have +rarely been able to work their way to the surface from amongst the mass +of relations and circumstances. + +The explanation of this is obvious, and it is almost identical with the +subject matter of the preceding chapter. + +Strategy knows no other activity than the regulating of combat with the +measures which relate to it. It has no concern, like ordinary life, with +transactions which consist merely of words--that is, in expressions, +declarations, &c. But these, which are very inexpensive, are chiefly the +means with which the wily one takes in those he practises upon. + +That which there is like it in War, plans and orders given merely as +make-believers, false reports sent on purpose to the enemy--is usually +of so little effect in the strategic field that it is only resorted +to in particular cases which offer of themselves, therefore cannot be +regarded as spontaneous action which emanates from the leader. + +But such measures as carrying out the arrangements for a battle, so far +as to impose upon the enemy, require a considerable expenditure of time +and power; of course, the greater the impression to be made, the greater +the expenditure in these respects. And as this is usually not given for +the purpose, very few demonstrations, so-called, in Strategy, effect the +object for which they are designed. In fact, it is dangerous to detach +large forces for any length of time merely for a trick, because there +is always the risk of its being done in vain, and then these forces are +wanted at the decisive point. + +The chief actor in War is always thoroughly sensible of this sober +truth, and therefore he has no desire to play at tricks of agility. The +bitter earnestness of necessity presses so fully into direct action that +there is no room for that game. In a word, the pieces on the strategical +chess-board want that mobility which is the element of stratagem and +subtility. + +The conclusion which we draw, is that a correct and penetrating eye is +a more necessary and more useful quality for a General than craftiness, +although that also does no harm if it does not exist at the expense of +necessary qualities of the heart, which is only too often the case. + +But the weaker the forces become which are under the command of +Strategy, so much the more they become adapted for stratagem, so that +to the quite feeble and little, for whom no prudence, no sagacity is +any longer sufficient at the point where all art seems to forsake +him, stratagem offers itself as a last resource. The more helpless his +situation, the more everything presses towards one single, desperate +blow, the more readily stratagem comes to the aid of his boldness. Let +loose from all further calculations, freed from all concern for the +future, boldness and stratagem intensify each other, and thus collect at +one point an infinitesimal glimmering of hope into a single ray, which +may likewise serve to kindle a flame. + + + +CHAPTER XI. ASSEMBLY OF FORCES IN SPACE + +THE best Strategy is ALWAYS TO BE VERY STRONG, first generally then at +the decisive point. Therefore, apart from the energy which creates the +Army, a work which is not always done by the General, there is no more +imperative and no simpler law for Strategy than to KEEP THE FORCES +CONCENTRATED.--No portion is to be separated from the main body unless +called away by some urgent necessity. On this maxim we stand firm, and +look upon it as a guide to be depended upon. What are the reasonable +grounds on which a detachment of forces may be made we shall learn by +degrees. Then we shall also see that this principle cannot have the same +general effects in every War, but that these are different according to +the means and end. + +It seems incredible, and yet it has happened a hundred times, that +troops have been divided and separated merely through a mysterious +feeling of conventional manner, without any clear perception of the +reason. + +If the concentration of the whole force is acknowledged as the norm, and +every division and separation as an exception which must be justified, +then not only will that folly be completely avoided, but also many an +erroneous ground for separating troops will be barred admission. + + + +CHAPTER XII. ASSEMBLY OF FORCES IN TIME + +WE have here to deal with a conception which in real life diffuses many +kinds of illusory light. A clear definition and development of the idea +is therefore necessary, and we hope to be allowed a short analysis. + +War is the shock of two opposing forces in collision with each other, +from which it follows as a matter of course that the stronger not only +destroys the other, but carries it forward with it in its movement. This +fundamentally admits of no successive action of powers, but makes the +simultaneous application of all forces intended for the shock appear as +a primordial law of War. + +So it is in reality, but only so far as the struggle resembles also in +practice a mechanical shock, but when it consists in a lasting, mutual +action of destructive forces, then we can certainly imagine a successive +action of forces. This is the case in tactics, principally because +firearms form the basis of all tactics, but also for other reasons as +well. If in a fire combat 1000 men are opposed to 500, then the gross +loss is calculated from the amount of the enemy's force and our own; +1000 men fire twice as many shots as 500, but more shots will take +effect on the 1000 than on the 500 because it is assumed that they stand +in closer order than the other. If we were to suppose the number of hits +to be double, then the losses on each side would be equal. From the 500 +there would be for example 200 disabled, and out of the body of 1000 +likewise the same; now if the 500 had kept another body of equal number +quite out of fire, then both sides would have 800 effective men; but +of these, on the one side there would be 500 men quite fresh, fully +supplied with ammunition, and in their full vigour; on the other +side only 800 all alike shaken in their order, in want of sufficient +ammunition and weakened in physical force. The assumption that the 1000 +men merely on account of their greater number would lose twice as +many as 500 would have lost in their place, is certainly not correct; +therefore the greater loss which the side suffers that has placed the +half of its force in reserve, must be regarded as a disadvantage in that +original formation; further it must be admitted, that in the generality +of cases the 1000 men would have the advantage at the first commencement +of being able to drive their opponent out of his position and force +him to a retrograde movement; now, whether these two advantages are a +counterpoise to the disadvantage of finding ourselves with 800 men to +a certain extent disorganised by the combat, opposed to an enemy who is +not materially weaker in numbers and who has 500 quite fresh troops, is +one that cannot be decided by pursuing an analysis further, we must here +rely upon experience, and there will scarcely be an officer experienced +in War who will not in the generality of cases assign the advantage to +that side which has the fresh troops. + +In this way it becomes evident how the employment of too many forces in +combat may be disadvantageous; for whatever advantages the superiority +may give in the first moment, we may have to pay dearly for in the next. + +But this danger only endures as long as the disorder, the state of +confusion and weakness lasts, in a word, up to the crisis which every +combat brings with it even for the conqueror. Within the duration of +this relaxed state of exhaustion, the appearance of a proportionate +number of fresh troops is decisive. + +But when this disordering effect of victory stops, and therefore only +the moral superiority remains which every victory gives, then it is no +longer possible for fresh troops to restore the combat, they would +only be carried along in the general movement; a beaten Army cannot be +brought back to victory a day after by means of a strong reserve. Here +we find ourselves at the source of a highly material difference between +tactics and strategy. + +The tactical results, the results within the four corners of the battle, +and before its close, lie for the most part within the limits of that +period of disorder and weakness. But the strategic result, that is to +say, the result of the total combat, of the victories realised, let them +be small or great, lies completely (beyond) outside of that period. +It is only when the results of partial combats have bound themselves +together into an independent whole, that the strategic result appears, +but then, the state of crisis is over, the forces have resumed their +original form, and are now only weakened to the extent of those actually +destroyed (placed hors de combat). + +The consequence of this difference is, that tactics can make a continued +use of forces, Strategy only a simultaneous one.(*) + + (*) See chaps. xiii., and xiv., Book III and chap. xxix. + Book V.--TR. + +If I cannot, in tactics, decide all by the first success, if I have to +fear the next moment, it follows of itself that I employ only so much of +my force for the success of the first moment as appears sufficient for +that object, and keep the rest beyond the reach of fire or conflict of +any kind, in order to be able to oppose fresh troops to fresh, or with +such to overcome those that are exhausted. But it is not so in Strategy. +Partly, as we have just shown, it has not so much reason to fear a +reaction after a success realised, because with that success the crisis +stops; partly all the forces strategically employed are not necessarily +weakened. Only so much of them as have been tactically in conflict with +the enemy's force, that is, engaged in partial combat, are weakened by +it; consequently, only so much as was unavoidably necessary, but by no +means all which was strategically in conflict with the enemy, unless +tactics has expended them unnecessarily. Corps which, on account of the +general superiority in numbers, have either been little or not at all +engaged, whose presence alone has assisted in the result, are after +the decision the same as they were before, and for new enterprises as +efficient as if they had been entirely inactive. How greatly such corps +which thus constitute our excess may contribute to the total success is +evident in itself; indeed, it is not difficult to see how they may +even diminish considerably the loss of the forces engaged in tactical, +conflict on our side. + +If, therefore, in Strategy the loss does not increase with the number of +the troops employed, but is often diminished by it, and if, as a natural +consequence, the decision in our favor is, by that means, the more +certain, then it follows naturally that in Strategy we can never +employ too many forces, and consequently also that they must be applied +simultaneously to the immediate purpose. + +But we must vindicate this proposition upon another ground. We have +hitherto only spoken of the combat itself; it is the real activity in +War, but men, time, and space, which appear as the elements of this +activity, must, at the same time, be kept in view, and the results of +their influence brought into consideration also. + +Fatigue, exertion, and privation constitute in War a special principle +of destruction, not essentially belonging to contest, but more or less +inseparably bound up with it, and certainly one which especially belongs +to Strategy. They no doubt exist in tactics as well, and perhaps there +in the highest degree; but as the duration of the tactical acts is +shorter, therefore the small effects of exertion and privation on them +can come but little into consideration. But in Strategy on the other +hand, where time and space, are on a larger scale, their influence is +not only always very considerable, but often quite decisive. It is not +at all uncommon for a victorious Army to lose many more by sickness than +on the field of battle. + +If, therefore, we look at this sphere of destruction in Strategy in +the same manner as we have considered that of fire and close combat in +tactics, then we may well imagine that everything which comes within +its vortex will, at the end of the campaign or of any other strategic +period, be reduced to a state of weakness, which makes the arrival of a +fresh force decisive. We might therefore conclude that there is a motive +in the one case as well as the other to strive for the first success +with as few forces as possible, in order to keep up this fresh force for +the last. + +In order to estimate exactly this conclusion, which, in many cases +in practice, will have a great appearance of truth, we must direct our +attention to the separate ideas which it contains. In the first place, +we must not confuse the notion of reinforcement with that of fresh +unused troops. There are few campaigns at the end of which an increase +of force is not earnestly desired by the conqueror as well as the +conquered, and indeed should appear decisive; but that is not the point +here, for that increase of force could not be necessary if the force +had been so much larger at the first. But it would be contrary to all +experience to suppose that an Army coming fresh into the field is to +be esteemed higher in point of moral value than an Army already in the +field, just as a tactical reserve is more to be esteemed than a body +of troops which has been already severely handled in the fight. Just as +much as an unfortunate campaign lowers the courage and moral powers of +an Army, a successful one raises these elements in their value. In the +generality of cases, therefore, these influences are compensated, and +then there remains over and above as clear gain the habituation to War. +We should besides look more here to successful than to unsuccessful +campaigns, because when the greater probability of the latter may be +seen beforehand, without doubt forces are wanted, and, therefore, the +reserving a portion for future use is out of the question. + +This point being settled, then the question is, Do the losses which a +force sustains through fatigues and privations increase in proportion to +the size of the force, as is the case in a combat? And to that we answer +"No." + +The fatigues of War result in a great measure from the dangers with +which every moment of the act of War is more or less impregnated. To +encounter these dangers at all points, to proceed onwards with security +in the execution of one's plans, gives employment to a multitude of +agencies which make up the tactical and strategic service of the Army. +This service is more difficult the weaker an Army is, and easier as its +numerical superiority over that of the enemy increases. Who can doubt +this? A campaign against a much weaker enemy will therefore cost smaller +efforts than against one just as strong or stronger. + +So much for the fatigues. It is somewhat different with the privations; +they consist chiefly of two things, the want of food, and the want of +shelter for the troops, either in quarters or in suitable camps. Both +these wants will no doubt be greater in proportion as the number of men +on one spot is greater. But does not the superiority in force afford +also the best means of spreading out and finding more room, and +therefore more means of subsistence and shelter? + +If Buonaparte, in his invasion of Russia in 1812, concentrated his Army +in great masses upon one single road in a manner never heard of before, +and thus caused privations equally unparalleled, we must ascribe it to +his maxim THAT IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO BE TOO STRONG AT THE DECISIVE POINT. +Whether in this instance he did not strain the principle too far is a +question which would be out of place here; but it is certain that, if +he had made a point of avoiding the distress which was by that means +brought about, he had only to advance on a greater breadth of front. +Room was not wanted for the purpose in Russia, and in very few cases +can it be wanted. Therefore, from this no ground can be deduced to prove +that the simultaneous employment of very superior forces must produce +greater weakening. But now, supposing that in spite of the general +relief afforded by setting apart a portion of the Army, wind and weather +and the toils of War had produced a diminution even on the part which +as a spare force had been reserved for later use, still we must take a +comprehensive general view of the whole, and therefore ask, Will this +diminution of force suffice to counterbalance the gain in forces, which +we, through our superiority in numbers, may be able to make in more ways +than one? + +But there still remains a most important point to be noticed. In a +partial combat, the force required to obtain a great result can be +approximately estimated without much difficulty, and, consequently, we +can form an idea of what is superfluous. In Strategy this may be said +to be impossible, because the strategic result has no such well-defined +object and no such circumscribed limits as the tactical. Thus what can +be looked upon in tactics as an excess of power, must be regarded in +Strategy as a means to give expansion to success, if opportunity offers +for it; with the magnitude of the success the gain in force increases at +the same time, and in this way the superiority of numbers may soon +reach a point which the most careful economy of forces could never have +attained. + +By means of his enormous numerical superiority, Buonaparte was enabled +to reach Moscow in 1812, and to take that central capital. Had he by +means of this superiority succeeded in completely defeating the Russian +Army, he would, in all probability, have concluded a peace in Moscow +which in any other way was much less attainable. This example is used to +explain the idea, not to prove it, which would require a circumstantial +demonstration, for which this is not the place.(*) + + (*) Compare Book VII., second edition, p. 56. + +All these reflections bear merely upon the idea of a successive +employment of forces, and not upon the conception of a reserve properly +so called, which they, no doubt, come in contact with throughout, but +which, as we shall see in the following chapter, is connected with some +other considerations. + +What we desire to establish here is, that if in tactics the military +force through the mere duration of actual employment suffers a +diminution of power, if time, therefore, appears as a factor in the +result, this is not the case in Strategy in a material degree. The +destructive effects which are also produced upon the forces in Strategy +by time, are partly diminished through their mass, partly made good in +other ways, and, therefore, in Strategy it cannot be an object to make +time an ally on its own account by bringing troops successively into +action. + +We say on "its own account," for the influence which time, on account of +other circumstances which it brings about but which are different +from itself can have, indeed must necessarily have, for one of the +two parties, is quite another thing, is anything but indifferent or +unimportant, and will be the subject of consideration hereafter. + +The rule which we have been seeking to set forth is, therefore, that all +forces which are available and destined for a strategic object should be +SIMULTANEOUSLY applied to it; and this application will be so much the +more complete the more everything is compressed into one act and into +one movement. + +But still there is in Strategy a renewal of effort and a persistent +action which, as a chief means towards the ultimate success, is more +particularly not to be overlooked, it is the CONTINUAL DEVELOPMENT OF +NEW FORCES. This is also the subject of another chapter, and we only +refer to it here in order to prevent the reader from having something in +view of which we have not been speaking. + +We now turn to a subject very closely connected with our present +considerations, which must be settled before full light can be thrown on +the whole, we mean the STRATEGIC RESERVE. + + + +CHAPTER XIII. STRATEGIC RESERVE + +A RESERVE has two objects which are very distinct from each other, +namely, first, the prolongation and renewal of the combat, and secondly, +for use in case of unforeseen events. The first object implies the +utility of a successive application of forces, and on that account +cannot occur in Strategy. Cases in which a corps is sent to succour a +point which is supposed to be about to fall are plainly to be placed +in the category of the second object, as the resistance which has to +be offered here could not have been sufficiently foreseen. But a corps +which is destined expressly to prolong the combat, and with that object +in view is placed in rear, would be only a corps placed out of reach +of fire, but under the command and at the disposition of the General +Commanding in the action, and accordingly would be a tactical and not a +strategic reserve. + +But the necessity for a force ready for unforeseen events may also +take place in Strategy, and consequently there may also be a strategic +reserve, but only where unforeseen events are imaginable. In tactics, +where the enemy's measures are generally first ascertained by direct +sight, and where they may be concealed by every wood, every fold of +undulating ground, we must naturally always be alive, more or less, +to the possibility of unforeseen events, in order to strengthen, +subsequently, those points which appear too weak, and, in fact, to +modify generally the disposition of our troops, so as to make it +correspond better to that of the enemy. + +Such cases must also happen in Strategy, because the strategic act is +directly linked to the tactical. In Strategy also many a measure is +first adopted in consequence of what is actually seen, or in consequence +of uncertain reports arriving from day to day, or even from hour +to hour, and lastly, from the actual results of the combats it is, +therefore, an essential condition of strategic command that, according +to the degree of uncertainty, forces must be kept in reserve against +future contingencies. + +In the defensive generally, but particularly in the defence of certain +obstacles of ground, like rivers, hills, &c., such contingencies, as is +well known, happen constantly. + +But this uncertainty diminishes in proportion as the strategic activity +has less of the tactical character, and ceases almost altogether in +those regions where it borders on politics. + +The direction in which the enemy leads his columns to the combat can +be perceived by actual sight only; where he intends to pass a river is +learnt from a few preparations which are made shortly before; the line +by which he proposes to invade our country is usually announced by all +the newspapers before a pistol shot has been fired. The greater the +nature of the measure the less it will take the enemy by surprise. Time +and space are so considerable, the circumstances out of which the action +proceeds so public and little susceptible of alteration, that the coming +event is either made known in good time, or can be discovered with +reasonable certainty. + +On the other hand the use of a reserve in this province of Strategy, +even if one were available, will always be less efficacious the more the +measure has a tendency towards being one of a general nature. + +We have seen that the decision of a partial combat is nothing in itself, +but that all partial combats only find their complete solution in the +decision of the total combat. + +But even this decision of the total combat has only a relative meaning +of many different gradations, according as the force over which the +victory has been gained forms a more or less great and important part of +the whole. The lost battle of a corps may be repaired by the victory +of the Army. Even the lost battle of an Army may not only be +counterbalanced by the gain of a more important one, but converted into +a fortunate event (the two days of Kulm, August 29 and 30, 1813(*)). +No one can doubt this; but it is just as clear that the weight of each +victory (the successful issue of each total combat) is so much the more +substantial the more important the part conquered, and that therefore +the possibility of repairing the loss by subsequent events diminishes in +the same proportion. In another place we shall have to examine this more +in detail; it suffices for the present to have drawn attention to the +indubitable existence of this progression. + + (*) Refers to the destruction of Vandamme's column, which + had been sent unsupported to intercept the retreat of the + Austrians and Prussians from Dresden--but was forgotten by + Napoleon.--EDITOR. + +If we now add lastly to these two considerations the third, which is, +that if the persistent use of forces in tactics always shifts the great +result to the end of the whole act, law of the simultaneous use of the +forces in Strategy, on the contrary, lets the principal result (which +need not be the final one) take place almost always at the commencement +of the great (or whole) act, then in these three results we have grounds +sufficient to find strategic reserves always more superfluous, always +more useless, always more dangerous, the more general their destination. + +The point where the idea of a strategic reserve begins to become +inconsistent is not difficult to determine: it lies in the SUPREME +DECISION. Employment must be given to all the forces within the space of +the supreme decision, and every reserve (active force available) which +is only intended for use after that decision is opposed to common sense. + +If, therefore, tactics has in its reserves the means of not only meeting +unforeseen dispositions on the part of the enemy, but also of repairing +that which never can be foreseen, the result of the combat, should that +be unfortunate; Strategy on the other hand must, at least as far as +relates to the capital result, renounce the use of these means. As A +rule, it can only repair the losses sustained at one point by advantages +gained at another, in a few cases by moving troops from one point to +another; the idea of preparing for such reverses by placing forces in +reserve beforehand, can never be entertained in Strategy. + +We have pointed out as an absurdity the idea of a strategic reserve +which is not to co-operate in the capital result, and as it is so beyond +a doubt, we should not have been led into such an analysis as we have +made in these two chapters, were it not that, in the disguise of +other ideas, it looks like something better, and frequently makes its +appearance. One person sees in it the acme of strategic sagacity and +foresight; another rejects it, and with it the idea of any reserve, +consequently even of a tactical one. This confusion of ideas is +transferred to real life, and if we would see a memorable instance of +it we have only to call to mind that Prussia in 1806 left a reserve +of 20,000 men cantoned in the Mark, under Prince Eugene of Wurtemberg, +which could not possibly reach the Saale in time to be of any use, and +that another force Of 25,000 men belonging to this power remained +in East and South Prussia, destined only to be put on a war-footing +afterwards as a reserve. + +After these examples we cannot be accused of having been fighting with +windmills. + + + +CHAPTER XIV. ECONOMY OF FORCES + +THE road of reason, as we have said, seldom allows itself to be reduced +to a mathematical line by principles and opinions. There remains always +a certain margin. But it is the same in all the practical arts of life. +For the lines of beauty there are no abscissae and ordinates; circles +and ellipses are not described by means of their algebraical formulae. +The actor in War therefore soon finds he must trust himself to the +delicate tact of judgment which, founded on natural quickness of +perception, and educated by reflection, almost unconsciously seizes upon +the right; he soon finds that at one time he must simplify the law (by +reducing it) to some prominent characteristic points which form his +rules; that at another the adopted method must become the staff on which +he leans. + +As one of these simplified characteristic points as a mental appliance, +we look upon the principle of watching continually over the co-operation +of all forces, or in other words, of keeping constantly in view that +no part of them should ever be idle. Whoever has forces where the enemy +does not give them sufficient employment, whoever has part of his forces +on the march--that is, allows them to lie dead--while the enemy's are +fighting, he is a bad manager of his forces. In this sense there is +a waste of forces, which is even worse than their employment to no +purpose. If there must be action, then the first point is that all parts +act, because the most purposeless activity still keeps employed and +destroys a portion of the enemy's force, whilst troops completely +inactive are for the moment quite neutralised. Unmistakably this idea is +bound up with the principles contained in the last three chapters, it +is the same truth, but seen from a somewhat more comprehensive point of +view and condensed into a single conception. + + + +CHAPTER XV. GEOMETRICAL ELEMENT + +THE length to which the geometrical element or form in the disposition +of military force in War can become a predominant principle, we see in +the art of fortification, where geometry looks after the great and +the little. Also in tactics it plays a great part. It is the basis of +elementary tactics, or of the theory of moving troops; but in field +fortification, as well as in the theory of positions, and of their +attack, its angles and lines rule like law givers who have to decide the +contest. Many things here were at one time misapplied, and others were +mere fribbles; still, however, in the tactics of the present day, in +which in every combat the aim is to surround the enemy, the geometrical +element has attained anew a great importance in a very simple, but +constantly recurring application. Nevertheless, in tactics, where all is +more movable, where the moral forces, individual traits, and chance are +more influential than in a war of sieges, the geometrical element can +never attain to the same degree of supremacy as in the latter. But less +still is its influence in Strategy; certainly here, also, form in the +disposition of troops, the shape of countries and states is of +great importance; but the geometrical element is not decisive, as in +fortification, and not nearly so important as in tactics.--The manner +in which this influence exhibits itself, can only be shown by degrees at +those places where it makes its appearance, and deserves notice. Here we +wish more to direct attention to the difference which there is between +tactics and Strategy in relation to it. + +In tactics time and space quickly dwindle to their absolute minimum. +If a body of troops is attacked in flank and rear by the enemy, it soon +gets to a point where retreat no longer remains; such a position is +very close to an absolute impossibility of continuing the fight; it must +therefore extricate itself from it, or avoid getting into it. This gives +to all combinations aiming at this from the first commencement a great +efficiency, which chiefly consists in the disquietude which it causes +the enemy as to consequences. This is why the geometrical disposition of +the forces is such an important factor in the tactical product. + +In Strategy this is only faintly reflected, on account of the greater +space and time. We do not fire from one theatre of war upon another; and +often weeks and months must pass before a strategic movement designed to +surround the enemy can be executed. Further, the distances are so great +that the probability of hitting the right point at last, even with the +best arrangements, is but small. + +In Strategy therefore the scope for such combinations, that is for those +resting on the geometrical element, is much smaller, and for the same +reason the effect of an advantage once actually gained at any point +is much greater. Such advantage has time to bring all its effects to +maturity before it is disturbed, or quite neutralised therein, by any +counteracting apprehensions. We therefore do not hesitate to regard as +an established truth, that in Strategy more depends on the number and +the magnitude of the victorious combats, than on the form of the great +lines by which they are connected. + +A view just the reverse has been a favourite theme of modern theory, +because a greater importance was supposed to be thus given to Strategy, +and, as the higher functions of the mind were seen in Strategy, it was +thought by that means to ennoble War, and, as it was said--through a new +substitution of ideas--to make it more scientific. We hold it to be +one of the principal uses of a complete theory openly to expose such +vagaries, and as the geometrical element is the fundamental idea from +which theory usually proceeds, therefore we have expressly brought out +this point in strong relief. + + + +CHAPTER XVI. ON THE SUSPENSION OF THE ACT IN WARFARE + +IF one considers War as an act of mutual destruction, we must of +necessity imagine both parties as making some progress; but at the same +time, as regards the existing moment, we must almost as necessarily +suppose the one party in a state of expectation, and only the other +actually advancing, for circumstances can never be actually the same on +both sides, or continue so. In time a change must ensue, from which it +follows that the present moment is more favourable to one side than the +other. Now if we suppose that both commanders have a full knowledge of +this circumstance, then the one has a motive for action, which at the +same time is a motive for the other to wait; therefore, according to +this it cannot be for the interest of both at the same time to advance, +nor can waiting be for the interest of both at the same time. This +opposition of interest as regards the object is not deduced here from +the principle of general polarity, and therefore is not in opposition to +the argument in the fifth chapter of the second book; it depends on +the fact that here in reality the same thing is at once an incentive +or motive to both commanders, namely the probability of improving or +impairing their position by future action. + +But even if we suppose the possibility of a perfect equality of +circumstances in this respect, or if we take into account that through +imperfect knowledge of their mutual position such an equality may appear +to the two Commanders to subsist, still the difference of political +objects does away with this possibility of suspension. One of the +parties must of necessity be assumed politically to be the aggressor, +because no War could take place from defensive intentions on both +sides. But the aggressor has the positive object, the defender merely a +negative one. To the first then belongs the positive action, for it is +only by that means that he can attain the positive object; therefore, +in cases where both parties are in precisely similar circumstances, the +aggressor is called upon to act by virtue of his positive object. + +Therefore, from this point of view, a suspension in the act of Warfare, +strictly speaking, is in contradiction with the nature of the thing; +because two Armies, being two incompatible elements, should destroy one +another unremittingly, just as fire and water can never put themselves +in equilibrium, but act and react upon one another, until one quite +disappears. What would be said of two wrestlers who remained clasped +round each other for hours without making a movement. Action in War, +therefore, like that of a clock which is wound up, should go on running +down in regular motion.--But wild as is the nature of War it still wears +the chains of human weakness, and the contradiction we see here, viz., +that man seeks and creates dangers which he fears at the same time will +astonish no one. + +If we cast a glance at military history in general, we find so much the +opposite of an incessant advance towards the aim, that STANDING STILL +and DOING NOTHING is quite plainly the NORMAL CONDITION of an Army in +the midst of War, ACTING, the EXCEPTION. This must almost raise a doubt +as to the correctness of our conception. But if military history +leads to this conclusion when viewed in the mass the latest series of +campaigns redeems our position. The War of the French Revolution shows +too plainly its reality, and only proves too clearly its necessity. In +these operations, and especially in the campaigns of Buonaparte, the +conduct of War attained to that unlimited degree of energy which we have +represented as the natural law of the element. This degree is therefore +possible, and if it is possible then it is necessary. + +How could any one in fact justify in the eyes of reason the expenditure +of forces in War, if acting was not the object? The baker only heats +his oven if he has bread to put into it; the horse is only yoked to the +carriage if we mean to drive; why then make the enormous effort of a War +if we look for nothing else by it but like efforts on the part of the +enemy? + +So much in justification of the general principle; now as to its +modifications, as far as they lie in the nature of the thing and are +independent of special cases. + +There are three causes to be noticed here, which appear as innate +counterpoises and prevent the over-rapid or uncontrollable movement of +the wheel-work. + +The first, which produces a constant tendency to delay, and is thereby +a retarding principle, is the natural timidity and want of resolution +in the human mind, a kind of inertia in the moral world, but which is +produced not by attractive, but by repellent forces, that is to say, by +dread of danger and responsibility. + +In the burning element of War, ordinary natures appear to become +heavier; the impulsion given must therefore be stronger and more +frequently repeated if the motion is to be a continuous one. The +mere idea of the object for which arms have been taken up is seldom +sufficient to overcome this resistant force, and if a warlike +enterprising spirit is not at the head, who feels himself in War in his +natural element, as much as a fish in the ocean, or if there is not the +pressure from above of some great responsibility, then standing still +will be the order of the day, and progress will be the exception. + +The second cause is the imperfection of human perception and judgment, +which is greater in War than anywhere, because a person hardly knows +exactly his own position from one moment to another, and can only +conjecture on slight grounds that of the enemy, which is purposely +concealed; this often gives rise to the case of both parties looking +upon one and the same object as advantageous for them, while in reality +the interest of one must preponderate; thus then each may think he acts +wisely by waiting another moment, as we have already said in the fifth +chapter of the second book. + +The third cause which catches hold, like a ratchet wheel in machinery, +from time to time producing a complete standstill, is the greater +strength of the defensive form. A may feel too weak to attack B, from +which it does not follow that B is strong enough for an attack on A. The +addition of strength, which the defensive gives is not merely lost +by assuming the offensive, but also passes to the enemy just as, +figuratively expressed, the difference of a + b and a - b is equal to +2b. Therefore it may so happen that both parties, at one and the same +time, not only feel themselves too weak to attack, but also are so in +reality. + +Thus even in the midst of the act of War itself, anxious sagacity and +the apprehension of too great danger find vantage ground, by means of +which they can exert their power, and tame the elementary impetuosity of +War. + +However, at the same time these causes without an exaggeration of their +effect, would hardly explain the long states of inactivity which took +place in military operations, in former times, in Wars undertaken about +interests of no great importance, and in which inactivity consumed +nine-tenths of the time that the troops remained under arms. This +feature in these Wars, is to be traced principally to the influence +which the demands of the one party, and the condition, and feeling of +the other, exercised over the conduct of the operations, as has been +already observed in the chapter on the essence and object of War. + +These things may obtain such a preponderating influence as to make of +War a half-and-half affair. A War is often nothing more than an armed +neutrality, or a menacing attitude to support negotiations or an attempt +to gain some small advantage by small exertions, and then to wait the +tide of circumstances, or a disagreeable treaty obligation, which is +fulfilled in the most niggardly way possible. + +In all these cases in which the impulse given by interest is slight, +and the principle of hostility feeble, in which there is no desire to +do much, and also not much to dread from the enemy; in short, where no +powerful motives press and drive, cabinets will not risk much in the +game; hence this tame mode of carrying on War, in which the hostile +spirit of real War is laid in irons. + +The more War becomes in this manner devitalised so much the more its +theory becomes destitute of the necessary firm pivots and buttresses for +its reasoning; the necessary is constantly diminishing, the accidental +constantly increasing. + +Nevertheless in this kind of Warfare, there is also a certain +shrewdness, indeed, its action is perhaps more diversified, and more +extensive than in the other. Hazard played with realeaux of gold seems +changed into a game of commerce with groschen. And on this field, where +the conduct of War spins out the time with a number of small flourishes, +with skirmishes at outposts, half in earnest half in jest, with long +dispositions which end in nothing with positions and marches, which +afterwards are designated as skilful only because their infinitesimally +small causes are lost, and common sense can make nothing of them, here +on this very field many theorists find the real Art of War at home: in +these feints, parades, half and quarter thrusts of former Wars, they +find the aim of all theory, the supremacy of mind over matter, and +modern Wars appear to them mere savage fisticuffs, from which nothing +is to be learnt, and which must be regarded as mere retrograde steps +towards barbarism. This opinion is as frivolous as the objects to which +it relates. Where great forces and great passions are wanting, it is +certainly easier for a practised dexterity to show its game; but is +then the command of great forces, not in itself a higher exercise of the +intelligent faculties? Is then that kind of conventional sword-exercise +not comprised in and belonging to the other mode of conducting War? Does +it not bear the same relation to it as the motions upon a ship to the +motion of the ship itself? Truly it can take place only under the tacit +condition that the adversary does no better. And can we tell, how long +he may choose to respect those conditions? Has not then the French +Revolution fallen upon us in the midst of the fancied security of our +old system of War, and driven us from Chalons to Moscow? And did not +Frederick the Great in like manner surprise the Austrians reposing in +their ancient habits of War, and make their monarchy tremble? Woe to +the cabinet which, with a shilly-shally policy, and a routine-ridden +military system, meets with an adversary who, like the rude element, +knows no other law than that of his intrinsic force. Every deficiency +in energy and exertion is then a weight in the scales in favour of the +enemy; it is not so easy then to change from the fencing posture into +that of an athlete, and a slight blow is often sufficient to knock down +the whole. + +The result of all the causes now adduced is, that the hostile action +of a campaign does not progress by a continuous, but by an intermittent +movement, and that, therefore, between the separate bloody acts, +there is a period of watching, during which both parties fall into the +defensive, and also that usually a higher object causes the principle of +aggression to predominate on one side, and thus leaves it in general in +an advancing position, by which then its proceedings become modified in +some degree. + + + +CHAPTER XVII. ON THE CHARACTER OF MODERN WAR + +THE attention which must be paid to the character of War as it is now +made, has a great influence upon all plans, especially on strategic +ones. + +Since all methods formerly usual were upset by Buonaparte's luck and +boldness, and first-rate Powers almost wiped out at a blow; since the +Spaniards by their stubborn resistance have shown what the general +arming of a nation and insurgent measures on a great scale can effect, +in spite of weakness and porousness of individual parts; since Russia, +by the campaign of 1812 has taught us, first, that an Empire of great +dimensions is not to be conquered (which might have been easily known +before), secondly, that the probability of final success does not in all +cases diminish in the same measure as battles, capitals, and provinces +are lost (which was formerly an incontrovertible principle with all +diplomatists, and therefore made them always ready to enter at once into +some bad temporary peace), but that a nation is often strongest in +the heart of its country, if the enemy's offensive power has exhausted +itself, and with what enormous force the defensive then springs over +to the offensive; further, since Prussia (1813) has shown that sudden +efforts may add to an Army sixfold by means of the militia, and +that this militia is just as fit for service abroad as in its own +country;--since all these events have shown what an enormous factor the +heart and sentiments of a Nation may be in the product of its political +and military strength, in fine, since governments have found out all +these additional aids, it is not to be expected that they will let them +lie idle in future Wars, whether it be that danger threatens their own +existence, or that restless ambition drives them on. + +That a War which is waged with the whole weight of the national power +on each side must be organised differently in principle to those where +everything is calculated according to the relations of standing Armies +to each other, it is easy to perceive. Standing Armies once resembled +fleets, the land force the sea force in their relations to the remainder +of the State, and from that the Art of War on shore had in it something +of naval tactics, which it has now quite lost. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. TENSION AND REST + +The Dynamic Law of War + +WE have seen in the sixteenth chapter of this book, how, in most +campaigns, much more time used to be spent in standing still and +inaction than in activity. + +Now, although, as observed in the preceding chapter we see quite a +different character in the present form of War, still it is certain that +real action will always be interrupted more or less by long pauses; and +this leads to the necessity of our examining more closely the nature of +these two phases of War. + +If there is a suspension of action in War, that is, if neither party +wills something positive, there is rest, and consequently equilibrium, +but certainly an equilibrium in the largest signification, in which not +only the moral and physical war-forces, but all relations and interests, +come into calculation. As soon as ever one of the two parties proposes +to himself a new positive object, and commences active steps towards it, +even if it is only by preparations, and as soon as the adversary opposes +this, there is a tension of powers; this lasts until the decision takes +place--that is, until one party either gives up his object or the other +has conceded it to him. + +This decision--the foundation of which lies always in the +combat--combinations which are made on each side--is followed by a +movement in one or other direction. + +When this movement has exhausted itself, either in the difficulties +which had to be mastered, in overcoming its own internal friction, or +through new resistant forces prepared by the acts of the enemy, then +either a state of rest takes place or a new tension with a decision, and +then a new movement, in most cases in the opposite direction. + +This speculative distinction between equilibrium, tension, and motion is +more essential for practical action than may at first sight appear. + +In a state of rest and of equilibrium a varied kind of activity may +prevail on one side that results from opportunity, and does not aim at +a great alteration. Such an activity may contain important combats--even +pitched battles--but yet it is still of quite a different nature, and on +that account generally different in its effects. + +If a state of tension exists, the effects of the decision are always +greater partly because a greater force of will and a greater pressure of +circumstances manifest themselves therein; partly because everything has +been prepared and arranged for a great movement. The decision in such +cases resembles the effect of a mine well closed and tamped, whilst an +event in itself perhaps just as great, in a state of rest, is more or +less like a mass of powder puffed away in the open air. + +At the same time, as a matter of course, the state of tension must +be imagined in different degrees of intensity, and it may therefore +approach gradually by many steps towards the state of rest, so that at +the last there is a very slight difference between them. + +Now the real use which we derive from these reflections is the +conclusion that every measure which is taken during a state of tension +is more important and more prolific in results than the same measure +could be in a state of equilibrium, and that this importance increases +immensely in the highest degrees of tension. + +The cannonade of Valmy, September 20, 1792, decided more than the battle +of Hochkirch, October 14, 1758. + +In a tract of country which the enemy abandons to us because he cannot +defend it, we can settle ourselves differently from what we should do if +the retreat of the enemy was only made with the view to a decision under +more favourable circumstances. Again, a strategic attack in course of +execution, a faulty position, a single false march, may be decisive in +its consequence; whilst in a state of equilibrium such errors must be +of a very glaring kind, even to excite the activity of the enemy in a +general way. + +Most bygone Wars, as we have already said, consisted, so far as regards +the greater part of the time, in this state of equilibrium, or at least +in such short tensions with long intervals between them, and weak in +their effects, that the events to which they gave rise were seldom great +successes, often they were theatrical exhibitions, got up in honour of a +royal birthday (Hochkirch), often a mere satisfying of the honour of the +arms (Kunersdorf), or the personal vanity of the commander (Freiberg). + +That a Commander should thoroughly understand these states, that he +should have the tact to act in the spirit of them, we hold to be a great +requisite, and we have had experience in the campaign of 1806 how far +it is sometimes wanting. In that tremendous tension, when everything +pressed on towards a supreme decision, and that alone with all its +consequences should have occupied the whole soul of the Commander, +measures were proposed and even partly carried out (such as the +reconnaissance towards Franconia), which at the most might have given a +kind of gentle play of oscillation within a state of equilibrium. Over +these blundering schemes and views, absorbing the activity of the Army, +the really necessary means, which could alone save, were lost sight of. + +But this speculative distinction which we have made is also necessary +for our further progress in the construction of our theory, because all +that we have to say on the relation of attack and defence, and on the +completion of this double-sided act, concerns the state of the crisis in +which the forces are placed during the tension and motion, and +because all the activity which can take place during the condition of +equilibrium can only be regarded and treated as a corollary; for +that crisis is the real War and this state of equilibrium only its +reflection. + + + + + +BOOK IV THE COMBAT + +CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY + +HAVING in the foregoing book examined the subjects which may be regarded +as the efficient elements of War, we shall now turn our attention to the +combat as the real activity in Warfare, which, by its physical and moral +effects, embraces sometimes more simply, sometimes in a more complex +manner, the object of the whole campaign. In this activity and in its +effects these elements must therefore, reappear. + +The formation of the combat is tactical in its nature; we only glance +at it here in a general way in order to get acquainted with it in its +aspect as a whole. In practice the minor or more immediate objects give +every combat a characteristic form; these minor objects we shall not +discuss until hereafter. But these peculiarities are in comparison to +the general characteristics of a combat mostly only insignificant, so +that most combats are very like one another, and, therefore, in order to +avoid repeating that which is general at every stage, we are compelled +to look into it here, before taking up the subject of its more special +application. + +In the first place, therefore, we shall give in the next chapter, in +a few words, the characteristics of the modern battle in its tactical +course, because that lies at the foundation of our conceptions of what +the battle really is. + + + +CHAPTER II. CHARACTER OF THE MODERN BATTLE + +ACCORDING to the notion we have formed of tactics and strategy, it +follows, as a matter of course, that if the nature of the former is +changed, that change must have an influence on the latter. If tactical +facts in one case are entirely different from those in another, then +the strategic, must be so also, if they are to continue consistent and +reasonable. It is therefore important to characterise a general action +in its modern form before we advance with the study of its employment in +strategy. + +What do we do now usually in a great battle? We place ourselves quietly +in great masses arranged contiguous to and behind one another. We deploy +relatively only a small portion of the whole, and let it wring itself +out in a fire-combat which lasts for several hours, only interrupted now +and again, and removed hither and thither by separate small shocks +from charges with the bayonet and cavalry attacks. When this line has +gradually exhausted part of its warlike ardour in this manner and there +remains nothing more than the cinders, it is withdrawn(*) and replaced +by another. + + (*) The relief of the fighting line played a great part in + the battles of the Smooth-Bore era; it was necessitated by + the fouling of the muskets, physical fatigue of the men and + consumption of ammunition, and was recognised as both + necessary and advisable by Napoleon himself.--EDITOR. + +In this manner the battle on a modified principle burns slowly away +like wet powder, and if the veil of night commands it to stop, because +neither party can any longer see, and neither chooses to run the risk of +blind chance, then an account is taken by each side respectively of the +masses remaining, which can be called still effective, that is, which +have not yet quite collapsed like extinct volcanoes; account is taken of +the ground gained or lost, and of how stands the security of the rear; +these results with the special impressions as to bravery and cowardice, +ability and stupidity, which are thought to have been observed +in ourselves and in the enemy are collected into one single total +impression, out of which there springs the resolution to quit the field +or to renew the combat on the morrow. + +This description, which is not intended as a finished picture of +a modern battle, but only to give its general tone, suits for the +offensive and defensive, and the special traits which are given, by +the object proposed, the country, &c. &c., may be introduced into it, +without materially altering the conception. + +But modern battles are not so by accident; they are so because +the parties find themselves nearly on a level as regards military +organisation and the knowledge of the Art of War, and because the +warlike element inflamed by great national interests has broken through +artificial limits and now flows in its natural channel. Under these two +conditions, battles will always preserve this character. + +This general idea of the modern battle will be useful to us in the +sequel in more places than one, if we want to estimate the value of the +particular co-efficients of strength, country, &c. &c. It is only for +general, great, and decisive combats, and such as come near to them that +this description stands good; inferior ones have changed their character +also in the same direction but less than great ones. The proof of this +belongs to tactics; we shall, however, have an opportunity hereafter of +making this subject plainer by giving a few particulars. + + + +CHAPTER III. THE COMBAT IN GENERAL + +THE Combat is the real warlike activity, everything else is only its +auxiliary; let us therefore take an attentive look at its nature. + +Combat means fighting, and in this the destruction or conquest of the +enemy is the object, and the enemy, in the particular combat, is the +armed force which stands opposed to us. + +This is the simple idea; we shall return to it, but before we can do +that we must insert a series of others. + +If we suppose the State and its military force as a unit, then the most +natural idea is to imagine the War also as one great combat, and in the +simple relations of savage nations it is also not much otherwise. But +our Wars are made up of a number of great and small simultaneous or +consecutive combats, and this severance of the activity into so many +separate actions is owing to the great multiplicity of the relations out +of which War arises with us. + +In point of fact, the ultimate object of our Wars, the political one, is +not always quite a simple one; and even were it so, still the action is +bound up with such a number of conditions and considerations to be taken +into account, that the object can no longer be attained by one single +great act but only through a number of greater or smaller acts which are +bound up into a whole; each of these separate acts is therefore a part +of a whole, and has consequently a special object by which it is bound +to this whole. + +We have already said that every strategic act can be referred to the +idea of a combat, because it is an employment of the military force, +and at the root of that there always lies the idea of fighting. We may +therefore reduce every military activity in the province of Strategy +to the unit of single combats, and occupy ourselves with the object +of these only; we shall get acquainted with these special objects by +degrees as we come to speak of the causes which produce them; here we +content ourselves with saying that every combat, great or small, has its +own peculiar object in subordination to the main object. If this is +the case then, the destruction and conquest of the enemy is only to be +regarded as the means of gaining this object; as it unquestionably is. + +But this result is true only in its form, and important only on account +of the connection which the ideas have between themselves, and we have +only sought it out to get rid of it at once. + +What is overcoming the enemy? Invariably the destruction of his military +force, whether it be by death, or wounds, or any means; whether it be +completely or only to such a degree that he can no longer continue +the contest; therefore as long as we set aside all special objects of +combats, we may look upon the complete or partial destruction of the +enemy as the only object of all combats. + +Now we maintain that in the majority of cases, and especially in great +battles, the special object by which the battle is individualised +and bound up with the great whole is only a weak modification of that +general object, or an ancillary object bound up with it, important +enough to individualise the battle, but always insignificant in +comparison with that general object; so that if that ancillary object +alone should be obtained, only an unimportant part of the purpose of the +combat is fulfilled. If this assertion is correct, then we see that the +idea, according to which the destruction of the enemy's force is only +the means, and something else always the object, can only be true +in form, but, that it would lead to false conclusions if we did not +recollect that this destruction of the enemy's force is comprised in +that object, and that this object is only a weak modification of it. +Forgetfulness of this led to completely false views before the Wars of +the last period, and created tendencies as well as fragments of +systems, in which theory thought it raised itself so much the more above +handicraft, the less it supposed itself to stand in need of the use of +the real instrument, that is the destruction of the enemy's force. + +Certainly such a system could not have arisen unless supported by other +false suppositions, and unless in place of the destruction of the enemy, +other things had been substituted to which an efficacy was ascribed +which did not rightly belong to them. We shall attack these falsehoods +whenever occasion requires, but we could not treat of the combat without +claiming for it the real importance and value which belong to it, and +giving warning against the errors to which merely formal truth might +lead. + +But now how shall we manage to show that in most cases, and in those of +most importance, the destruction of the enemy's Army is the chief thing? +How shall we manage to combat that extremely subtle idea, which supposes +it possible, through the use of a special artificial form, to effect +by a small direct destruction of the enemy's forces a much greater +destruction indirectly, or by means of small but extremely well-directed +blows to produce such paralysation of the enemy's forces, such a command +over the enemy's will, that this mode of proceeding is to be viewed as a +great shortening of the road? Undoubtedly a victory at one point may +be of more value than at another. Undoubtedly there is a scientific +arrangement of battles amongst themselves, even in Strategy, which is in +fact nothing but the Art of thus arranging them. To deny that is not +our intention, but we assert that the direct destruction of the enemy's +forces is everywhere predominant; we contend here for the overruling +importance of this destructive principle and nothing else. + +We must, however, call to mind that we are now engaged with Strategy, +not with tactics, therefore we do not speak of the means which the +former may have of destroying at a small expense a large body of the +enemy's forces, but under direct destruction we understand the tactical +results, and that, therefore, our assertion is that only great tactical +results can lead to great strategical ones, or, as we have already +once before more distinctly expressed it, THE TACTICAL SUCCESSES are of +paramount importance in the conduct of War. + +The proof of this assertion seems to us simple enough, it lies in the +time which every complicated (artificial) combination requires. The +question whether a simple attack, or one more carefully prepared, +i.e., more artificial, will produce greater effects, may undoubtedly +be decided in favour of the latter as long as the enemy is assumed to +remain quite passive. But every carefully combined attack requires time +for its preparation, and if a counter-stroke by the enemy intervenes, +our whole design may be upset. Now if the enemy should decide upon some +simple attack, which can be executed in a shorter time, then he gains +the initiative, and destroys the effect of the great plan. Therefore, +together with the expediency of a complicated attack we must consider +all the dangers which we run during its preparation, and should only +adopt it if there is no reason to fear that the enemy will disconcert +our scheme. Whenever this is the case we must ourselves choose the +simpler, i.e., quicker way, and lower our views in this sense as far as +the character, the relations of the enemy, and other circumstances may +render necessary. If we quit the weak impressions of abstract ideas and +descend to the region of practical life, then it is evident that a bold, +courageous, resolute enemy will not let us have time for wide-reaching +skilful combinations, and it is just against such a one we should +require skill the most. By this it appears to us that the advantage +of simple and direct results over those that are complicated is +conclusively shown. + +Our opinion is not on that account that the simple blow is the best, but +that we must not lift the arm too far for the time given to strike, and +that this condition will always lead more to direct conflict the more +warlike our opponent is. Therefore, far from making it our aim to +gain upon the enemy by complicated plans, we must rather seek to be +beforehand with him by greater simplicity in our designs. + +If we seek for the lowest foundation-stones of these converse +propositions we find that in the one it is ability, in the other, +courage. Now, there is something very attractive in the notion that a +moderate degree of courage joined to great ability will produce greater +effects than moderate ability with great courage. But unless we suppose +these elements in a disproportionate relation, not logical, we have no +right to assign to ability this advantage over courage in a field which +is called danger, and which must be regarded as the true domain of +courage. + +After this abstract view we shall only add that experience, very far +from leading to a different conclusion, is rather the sole cause which +has impelled us in this direction, and given rise to such reflections. + +Whoever reads history with a mind free from prejudice cannot fail to +arrive at a conviction that of all military virtues, energy in the +conduct of operations has always contributed the most to the glory and +success of arms. + +How we make good our principle of regarding the destruction of the +enemy's force as the principal object, not only in the War as a whole +but also in each separate combat, and how that principle suits all the +forms and conditions necessarily demanded by the relations out of which +War springs, the sequel will show. For the present all that we desire is +to uphold its general importance, and with this result we return again +to the combat. + + + +CHAPTER IV. THE COMBAT IN GENERAL (CONTINUATION) + +IN the last chapter we showed the destruction of the enemy as the +true object of the combat, and we have sought to prove by a special +consideration of the point, that this is true in the majority of cases, +and in respect to the most important battles, because the destruction of +the enemy's Army is always the preponderating object in War. The other +objects which may be mixed up with this destruction of the enemy's +force, and may have more or less influence, we shall describe generally +in the next chapter, and become better acquainted with by degrees +afterwards; here we divest the combat of them entirely, and look upon +the destruction of the enemy as the complete and sufficient object of +any combat. + +What are we now to understand by destruction of the enemy's Army? A +diminution of it relatively greater than that on our own side. If we +have a great superiority in numbers over the enemy, then naturally the +same absolute amount of loss on both sides is for us a smaller one than +for him, and consequently may be regarded in itself as an advantage. As +we are here considering the combat as divested of all (other) objects, +we must also exclude from our consideration the case in which the combat +is used only indirectly for a greater destruction of the enemy's force; +consequently also, only that direct gain which has been made in the +mutual process of destruction, is to be regarded as the object, for this +is an absolute gain, which runs through the whole campaign, and at the +end of it will always appear as pure profit. But every other kind of +victory over our opponent will either have its motive in other objects, +which we have completely excluded here, or it will only yield a +temporary relative advantage. An example will make this plain. + +If by a skilful disposition we have reduced our opponent to such a +dilemma, that he cannot continue the combat without danger, and after +some resistance he retires, then we may say, that we have conquered +him at that point; but if in this victory we have expended just as many +forces as the enemy, then in closing the account of the campaign, there +is no gain remaining from this victory, if such a result can be called +a victory. Therefore the overcoming the enemy, that is, placing him in +such a position that he must give up the fight, counts for nothing in +itself, and for that reason cannot come under the definition of object. +There remains, therefore, as we have said, nothing over except the +direct gain which we have made in the process of destruction; but to +this belong not only the losses which have taken place in the course of +the combat, but also those which, after the withdrawal of the conquered +part, take place as direct consequences of the same. + +Now it is known by experience, that the losses in physical forces in the +course of a battle seldom present a great difference between victor and +vanquished respectively, often none at all, sometimes even one bearing +an inverse relation to the result, and that the most decisive losses +on the side of the vanquished only commence with the retreat, that is, +those which the conqueror does not share with him. The weak remains of +battalions already in disorder are cut down by cavalry, exhausted men +strew the ground, disabled guns and broken caissons are abandoned, +others in the bad state of the roads cannot be removed quickly enough, +and are captured by the enemy's troops, during the night numbers lose +their way, and fall defenceless into the enemy's hands, and thus the +victory mostly gains bodily substance after it is already decided. Here +would be a paradox, if it did not solve itself in the following manner. + +The loss in physical force is not the only one which the two sides +suffer in the course of the combat; the moral forces also are shaken, +broken, and go to ruin. It is not only the loss in men, horses and guns, +but in order, courage, confidence, cohesion and plan, which come into +consideration when it is a question whether the fight can be still +continued or not. It is principally the moral forces which decide here, +and in all cases in which the conqueror has lost as heavily as the +conquered, it is these alone. + +The comparative relation of the physical losses is difficult to estimate +in a battle, but not so the relation of the moral ones. Two things +principally make it known. The one is the loss of the ground on which +the fight has taken place, the other the superiority of the enemy's. The +more our reserves have diminished as compared with those of the enemy, +the more force we have used to maintain the equilibrium; in this at +once, an evident proof of the moral superiority of the enemy is given +which seldom fails to stir up in the soul of the Commander a certain +bitterness of feeling, and a sort of contempt for his own troops. +But the principal thing is, that men who have been engaged for a long +continuance of time are more or less like burnt-out cinders; their +ammunition is consumed; they have melted away to a certain extent; +physical and moral energies are exhausted, perhaps their courage is +broken as well. Such a force, irrespective of the diminution in its +number, if viewed as an organic whole, is very different from what it +was before the combat; and thus it is that the loss of moral force +may be measured by the reserves that have been used as if it were on a +foot-rule. + +Lost ground and want of fresh reserves, are, therefore, usually the +principal causes which determine a retreat; but at the same time we by +no means exclude or desire to throw in the shade other reasons, which +may lie in the interdependence of parts of the Army, in the general +plan, &c. + +Every combat is therefore the bloody and destructive measuring of the +strength of forces, physical and moral; whoever at the close has the +greatest amount of both left is the conqueror. + +In the combat the loss of moral force is the chief cause of the +decision; after that is given, this loss continues to increase until it +reaches its culminating-point at the close of the whole act. This then +is the opportunity the victor should seize to reap his harvest by the +utmost possible restrictions of his enemy's forces, the real object of +engaging in the combat. On the beaten side, the loss of all order and +control often makes the prolongation of resistance by individual units, +by the further punishment they are certain to suffer, more injurious +than useful to the whole. The spirit of the mass is broken; the original +excitement about losing or winning, through which danger was forgotten, +is spent, and to the majority danger now appears no longer an appeal to +their courage, but rather the endurance of a cruel punishment. Thus the +instrument in the first moment of the enemy's victory is weakened and +blunted, and therefore no longer fit to repay danger by danger. + +This period, however, passes; the moral forces of the conquered will +recover by degrees, order will be restored, courage will revive, and in +the majority of cases there remains only a small part of the superiority +obtained, often none at all. In some cases, even, although rarely, the +spirit of revenge and intensified hostility may bring about an opposite +result. On the other hand, whatever is gained in killed, wounded, +prisoners, and guns captured can never disappear from the account. + +The losses in a battle consist more in killed and wounded; those +after the battle, more in artillery taken and prisoners. The first the +conqueror shares with the conquered, more or less, but the second not; +and for that reason they usually only take place on one side of the +conflict, at least, they are considerably in excess on one side. + +Artillery and prisoners are therefore at all times regarded as the +true trophies of victory, as well as its measure, because through these +things its extent is declared beyond a doubt. Even the degree of moral +superiority may be better judged of by them than by any other relation, +especially if the number of killed and wounded is compared therewith; +and here arises a new power increasing the moral effects. + +We have said that the moral forces, beaten to the ground in the +battle and in the immediately succeeding movements, recover themselves +gradually, and often bear no traces of injury; this is the case with +small divisions of the whole, less frequently with large divisions; it +may, however, also be the case with the main Army, but seldom or never +in the State or Government to which the Army belongs. These estimate the +situation more impartially, and from a more elevated point of view, +and recognise in the number of trophies taken by the enemy, and their +relation to the number of killed and wounded, only too easily and well, +the measure of their own weakness and inefficiency. + +In point of fact, the lost balance of moral power must not be treated +lightly because it has no absolute value, and because it does not of +necessity appear in all cases in the amount of the results at the +final close; it may become of such excessive weight as to bring down +everything with an irresistible force. On that account it may often +become a great aim of the operations of which we shall speak elsewhere. +Here we have still to examine some of its fundamental relations. + +The moral effect of a victory increases, not merely in proportion to +the extent of the forces engaged, but in a progressive ratio--that is +to say, not only in extent, but also in its intensity. In a beaten +detachment order is easily restored. As a single frozen limb is easily +revived by the rest of the body, so the courage of a defeated detachment +is easily raised again by the courage of the rest of the Army as soon +as it rejoins it. If, therefore, the effects of a small victory are not +completely done away with, still they are partly lost to the enemy. This +is not the case if the Army itself sustains a great defeat; then one +with the other fall together. A great fire attains quite a different +heat from several small ones. + +Another relation which determines the moral value of a victory is the +numerical relation of the forces which have been in conflict with each +other. To beat many with few is not only a double success, but shows +also a greater, especially a more general superiority, which the +conquered must always be fearful of encountering again. At the same time +this influence is in reality hardly observable in such a case. In the +moment of real action, the notions of the actual strength of the +enemy are generally so uncertain, the estimate of our own commonly so +incorrect, that the party superior in numbers either does not admit the +disproportion, or is very far from admitting the full truth, owing to +which, he evades almost entirely the moral disadvantages which would +spring from it. It is only hereafter in history that the truth, long +suppressed through ignorance, vanity, or a wise discretion, makes its +appearance, and then it certainly casts a lustre on the Army and its +Leader, but it can then do nothing more by its moral influence for +events long past. + +If prisoners and captured guns are those things by which the victory +principally gains substance, its true crystallisations, then the plan of +the battle should have those things specially in view; the destruction +of the enemy by death and wounds appears here merely as a means to an +end. + +How far this may influence the dispositions in the battle is not an +affair of Strategy, but the decision to fight the battle is in intimate +connection with it, as is shown by the direction given to our forces, +and their general grouping, whether we threaten the enemy's flank or +rear, or he threatens ours. On this point, the number of prisoners and +captured guns depends very much, and it is a point which, in many cases, +tactics alone cannot satisfy, particularly if the strategic relations +are too much in opposition to it. + +The risk of having to fight on two sides, and the still more dangerous +position of having no line of retreat left open, paralyse the movements +and the power of resistance; further, in case of defeat, they +increase the loss, often raising it to its extreme point, that is, to +destruction. Therefore, the rear being endangered makes defeat more +probable, and, at the same time, more decisive. + +From this arises, in the whole conduct of the War, especially in great +and small combats, a perfect instinct to secure our own line of retreat +and to seize that of the enemy; this follows from the conception of +victory, which, as we have seen, is something beyond mere slaughter. + +In this effort we see, therefore, the first immediate purpose in the +combat, and one which is quite universal. No combat is imaginable in +which this effort, either in its double or single form, does not go hand +in hand with the plain and simple stroke of force. Even the smallest +troop will not throw itself upon its enemy without thinking of its line +of retreat, and, in most cases, it will have an eye upon that of the +enemy also. + +We should have to digress to show how often this instinct is prevented +from going the direct road, how often it must yield to the difficulties +arising from more important considerations: we shall, therefore, rest +contented with affirming it to be a general natural law of the combat. + +It is, therefore, active; presses everywhere with its natural weight, +and so becomes the pivot on which almost all tactical and strategic +manoeuvres turn. + +If we now take a look at the conception of victory as a whole, we find +in it three elements:-- + +1. The greater loss of the enemy in physical power. + +2. In moral power. + +3. His open avowal of this by the relinquishment of his intentions. + +The returns made up on each side of losses in killed and wounded, are +never exact, seldom truthful, and in most cases, full of intentional +misrepresentations. Even the statement of the number of trophies +is seldom to be quite depended on; consequently, when it is not +considerable it may also cast a doubt even on the reality of the +victory. Of the loss in moral forces there is no reliable measure, +except in the trophies: therefore, in many cases, the giving up the +contest is the only real evidence of the victory. It is, therefore, to +be regarded as a confession of inferiority--as the lowering of the +flag, by which, in this particular instance, right and superiority are +conceded to the enemy, and this degree of humiliation and disgrace, +which, however, must be distinguished from all the other moral +consequences of the loss of equilibrium, is an essential part of the +victory. It is this part alone which acts upon the public opinion +outside the Army, upon the people and the Government in both belligerent +States, and upon all others in any way concerned. + +But renouncement of the general object is not quite identical with +quitting the field of battle, even when the battle has been very +obstinate and long kept up; no one says of advanced posts, when they +retire after an obstinate combat, that they have given up their object; +even in combats aimed at the destruction of the enemy's Army, the +retreat from the battlefield is not always to be regarded as a +relinquishment of this aim, as for instance, in retreats planned +beforehand, in which the ground is disputed foot by foot; all this +belongs to that part of our subject where we shall speak of the separate +object of the combat; here we only wish to draw attention to the fact +that in most cases the giving up of the object is very difficult to +distinguish from the retirement from the battlefield, and that the +impression produced by the latter, both in and out of the Army, is not +to be treated lightly. + +For Generals and Armies whose reputation is not made, this is in itself +one of the difficulties in many operations, justified by circumstances +when a succession of combats, each ending in retreat, may appear as +a succession of defeats, without being so in reality, and when that +appearance may exercise a very depressing influence. It is impossible +for the retreating General by making known his real intentions to +prevent the moral effect spreading to the public and his troops, for +to do that with effect he must disclose his plans completely, which +of course would run counter to his principal interests to too great a +degree. + +In order to draw attention to the special importance of this conception +of victory we shall only refer to the battle of Soor,(*) the trophies +from which were not important (a few thousand prisoners and twenty +guns), and where Frederick proclaimed his victory by remaining for five +days after on the field of battle, although his retreat into Silesia had +been previously determined on, and was a measure natural to his whole +situation. According to his own account, he thought he would hasten a +peace by the moral effect of his victory. Now although a couple of +other successes were likewise required, namely, the battle at Katholisch +Hennersdorf, in Lusatia, and the battle of Kesseldorf, before this peace +took place, still we cannot say that the moral effect of the battle of +Soor was nil. + + (*) Soor, or Sohr, Sept. 30, 1745; Hennersdorf, Nov. 23, + 1745; Kealteldorf, Dec. 15, 1745, all in the Second Silesian + War. + +If it is chiefly the moral force which is shaken by defeat, and if the +number of trophies reaped by the enemy mounts up to an unusual height, +then the lost combat becomes a rout, but this is not the necessary +consequence of every victory. A rout only sets in when the moral force +of the defeated is very severely shaken then there often ensues a +complete incapability of further resistance, and the whole action +consists of giving way, that is of flight. + +Jena and Belle Alliance were routs, but not so Borodino. + +Although without pedantry we can here give no single line of separation, +because the difference between the things is one of degrees, yet still +the retention of the conception is essential as a central point to give +clearness to our theoretical ideas and it is a want in our terminology +that for a victory over the enemy tantamount to a rout, and a conquest +of the enemy only tantamount to a simple victory, there is only one and +the same word to use. + + + +CHAPTER V. ON THE SIGNIFICATION OF THE COMBAT + +HAVING in the preceding chapter examined the combat in its absolute +form, as the miniature picture of the whole War, we now turn to the +relations which it bears to the other parts of the great whole. First we +inquire what is more precisely the signification of a combat. + +As War is nothing else but a mutual process of destruction, then the +most natural answer in conception, and perhaps also in reality, appears +to be that all the powers of each party unite in one great volume and +all results in one great shock of these masses. There is certainly much +truth in this idea, and it seems to be very advisable that we should +adhere to it and should on that account look upon small combats at first +only as necessary loss, like the shavings from a carpenter's plane. +Still, however, the thing cannot be settled so easily. + +That a multiplication of combats should arise from a fractioning of +forces is a matter of course, and the more immediate objects of separate +combats will therefore come before us in the subject of a fractioning +of forces; but these objects, and together with them, the whole mass of +combats may in a general way be brought under certain classes, and the +knowledge of these classes will contribute to make our observations more +intelligible. + +Destruction of the enemy's military forces is in reality the object of +all combats; but other objects may be joined thereto, and these other +objects may be at the same time predominant; we must therefore draw a +distinction between those in which the destruction of the enemy's forces +is the principal object, and those in which it is more the means. The +destruction of the enemy's force, the possession of a place or the +possession of some object may be the general motive for a combat, and +it may be either one of these alone or several together, in which case +however usually one is the principal motive. Now the two principal forms +of War, the offensive and defensive, of which we shall shortly speak, do +not modify the first of these motives, but they certainly do modify +the other two, and therefore if we arrange them in a scheme they would +appear thus:-- + + OFFENSIVE. DEFENSIVE. + 1. Destruction of enemy's force 1. Destruction of enemy's force. + 2. Conquest of a place. 2. Defence of a place. + 3. Conquest of some object. 3. Defence of some object. + +These motives, however, do not seem to embrace completely the whole +of the subject, if we recollect that there are reconnaissances and +demonstrations, in which plainly none of these three points is the +object of the combat. In reality we must, therefore, on this account be +allowed a fourth class. Strictly speaking, in reconnaissances in which +we wish the enemy to show himself, in alarms by which we wish to wear +him out, in demonstrations by which we wish to prevent his leaving some +point or to draw him off to another, the objects are all such as can +only be attained indirectly and UNDER THE PRETEXT OF ONE OF THE THREE +OBJECTS SPECIFIED IN THE TABLE, usually of the second; for the enemy +whose aim is to reconnoitre must draw up his force as if he really +intended to attack and defeat us, or drive us off, &c. &c. But this +pretended object is not the real one, and our present question is only +as to the latter; therefore, we must to the above three objects of the +offensive further add a fourth, which is to lead the enemy to make a +false conclusion. That offensive means are conceivable in connection +with this object, lies in the nature of the thing. + +On the other hand we must observe that the defence of a place may be of +two kinds, either absolute, if as a general question the point is not to +be given up, or relative if it is only required for a certain time. The +latter happens perpetually in the combats of advanced posts and rear +guards. + +That the nature of these different intentions of a combat must have an +essential influence on the dispositions which are its preliminaries, is +a thing clear in itself. We act differently if our object is merely to +drive an enemy's post out of its place from what we should if our object +was to beat him completely; differently, if we mean to defend a place +to the last extremity from what we should do if our design is only +to detain the enemy for a certain time. In the first case we trouble +ourselves little about the line of retreat, in the latter it is the +principal point, &c. + +But these reflections belong properly to tactics, and are only +introduced here by way of example for the sake of greater clearness. +What Strategy has to say on the different objects of the combat will +appear in the chapters which touch upon these objects. Here we have only +a few general observations to make, first, that the importance of the +object decreases nearly in the order as they stand above, therefore, +that the first of these objects must always predominate in the great +battle; lastly, that the two last in a defensive battle are in reality +such as yield no fruit, they are, that is to say, purely negative, +and can, therefore, only be serviceable, indirectly, by facilitating +something else which is positive. IT IS, THEREFORE, A BAD SIGN OF THE +STRATEGIC SITUATION IF BATTLES OF THIS KIND BECOME TOO FREQUENT. + + + +CHAPTER VI. DURATION OF THE COMBAT + +IF we consider the combat no longer in itself but in relation to the +other forces of War, then its duration acquires a special importance. + +This duration is to be regarded to a certain extent as a second +subordinate success. For the conqueror the combat can never be finished +too quickly, for the vanquished it can never last too long. A speedy +victory indicates a higher power of victory, a tardy decision is, on the +side of the defeated, some compensation for the loss. + +This is in general true, but it acquires a practical importance in its +application to those combats, the object of which is a relative defence. + +Here the whole success often lies in the mere duration. This is the +reason why we have included it amongst the strategic elements. + +The duration of a combat is necessarily bound up with its essential +relations. These relations are, absolute magnitude of force, relation +of force and of the different arms mutually, and nature of the country. +Twenty thousand men do not wear themselves out upon one another as +quickly as two thousand: we cannot resist an enemy double or three times +our strength as long as one of the same strength; a cavalry combat is +decided sooner than an infantry combat; and a combat between infantry +only, quicker than if there is artillery(*) as well; in hills and +forests we cannot advance as quickly as on a level country; all this is +clear enough. + + (*) The increase in the relative range of artillery and the + introduction of shrapnel has altogether modified this + conclusion. + +From this it follows, therefore, that strength, relation of the three +arms, and position, must be considered if the combat is to fulfil an +object by its duration; but to set up this rule was of less importance +to us in our present considerations than to connect with it at once the +chief results which experience gives us on the subject. + +Even the resistance of an ordinary Division of 8000 to 10,000 men of +all arms even opposed to an enemy considerably superior in numbers, +will last several hours, if the advantages of country are not too +preponderating, and if the enemy is only a little, or not at all, +superior in numbers, the combat will last half a day. A Corps of three +or four Divisions will prolong it to double the time; an Army of 80,000 +or 100,000 to three or four times. Therefore the masses may be left to +themselves for that length of time, and no separate combat takes place +if within that time other forces can be brought up, whose co-operation +mingles then at once into one stream with the results of the combat +which has taken place. + +These calculations are the result of experience; but it is important to +us at the same time to characterise more particularly the moment of the +decision, and consequently the termination. + + + +CHAPTER VII. DECISION OF THE COMBAT + +No battle is decided in a single moment, although in every battle there +arise moments of crisis, on which the result depends. The loss of a +battle is, therefore, a gradual falling of the scale. But there is in +every combat a point of time (*) + + (*) Under the then existing conditions of armament + understood. This point is of supreme importance, as + practically the whole conduct of a great battle depends on a + correct solution of this question--viz., How long can a + given command prolong its resistance? If this is incorrectly + answered in practice--the whole manoeuvre depending on it + may collapse--e.g., Kouroupatkin at Liao-Yang, September + 1904. + +when it may be regarded as decided, in such a way that the renewal of +the fight would be a new battle, not a continuation of the old one. To +have a clear notion on this point of time, is very important, in +order to be able to decide whether, with the prompt assistance of +reinforcements, the combat can again be resumed with advantage. + +Often in combats which are beyond restoration new forces are sacrificed +in vain; often through neglect the decision has not been seized when it +might easily have been secured. Here are two examples, which could not +be more to the point: + +When the Prince of Hohenlohe, in 1806, at Jena,(*) with 35,000 men +opposed to from 60,000 to 70,000, under Buonaparte, had accepted battle, +and lost it--but lost it in such a way that the 35,000 might be regarded +as dissolved--General Ruchel undertook to renew the fight with about +12,000; the consequence was that in a moment his force was scattered in +like manner. + + (*) October 14, 1806. + +On the other hand, on the same day at Auerstadt, the Prussians +maintained a combat with 25,000, against Davoust, who had 28,000, until +mid-day, without success, it is true, but still without the force being +reduced to a state of dissolution without even greater loss than the +enemy, who was very deficient in cavalry;--but they neglected to use the +reserve of 18,000, under General Kalkreuth, to restore the battle which, +under these circumstances, it would have been impossible to lose. + +Each combat is a whole in which the partial combats combine themselves +into one total result. In this total result lies the decision of the +combat. This success need not be exactly a victory such as we have +denoted in the sixth chapter, for often the preparations for that have +not been made, often there is no opportunity if the enemy gives way too +soon, and in most cases the decision, even when the resistance has been +obstinate, takes place before such a degree of success is attained as +would completely satisfy the idea of a victory. + +We therefore ask, Which is commonly the moment of the decision, that +is to say, that moment when a fresh, effective, of course not +disproportionate, force, can no longer turn a disadvantageous battle? + +If we pass over false attacks, which in accordance with their nature are +properly without decision, then, + +1. If the possession of a movable object was the object of the combat, +the loss of the same is always the decision. + +2. If the possession of ground was the object of the combat, then the +decision generally lies in its loss. Still not always, only if this +ground is of peculiar strength, ground which is easy to pass over, +however important it may be in other respects, can be re-taken without +much danger. + +3. But in all other cases, when these two circumstances have not already +decided the combat, therefore, particularly in case the destruction of +the enemy's force is the principal object, the decision is reached at +that moment when the conqueror ceases to feel himself in a state of +disintegration, that is, of unserviceableness to a certain extent, when +therefore, there is no further advantage in using the successive efforts +spoken of in the twelfth chapter of the third book. On this ground we +have given the strategic unity of the battle its place here. + +A battle, therefore, in which the assailant has not lost his condition +of order and perfect efficiency at all, or, at least, only in a small +part of his force, whilst the opposing forces are, more or less, +disorganised throughout, is also not to be retrieved; and just as little +if the enemy has recovered his efficiency. + +The smaller, therefore, that part of a force is which has really been +engaged, the greater that portion which as reserve has contributed to +the result only by its presence. So much the less will any new force of +the enemy wrest again the victory from our hands, and that Commander who +carries out to the furthest with his Army the principle of conducting +the combat with the greatest economy of forces, and making the most of +the moral effect of strong reserves, goes the surest way to victory. +We must allow that the French, in modern times, especially when led by +Buonaparte, have shown a thorough mastery in this. + +Further, the moment when the crisis-stage of the combat ceases with +the conqueror, and his original state of order is restored, takes place +sooner the smaller the unit he controls. A picket of cavalry pursuing an +enemy at full gallop will in a few minutes resume its proper order, and +the crisis ceases. A whole regiment of cavalry requires a longer time. +It lasts still longer with infantry, if extended in single lines of +skirmishers, and longer again with Divisions of all arms, when it +happens by chance that one part has taken one direction and another part +another direction, and the combat has therefore caused a loss of the +order of formation, which usually becomes still worse from no part +knowing exactly where the other is. Thus, therefore, the point of time +when the conqueror has collected the instruments he has been using, and +which are mixed up and partly out of order, the moment when he has in +some measure rearranged them and put them in their proper places, and +thus brought the battle-workshop into a little order, this moment, we +say, is always later, the greater the total force. + +Again, this moment comes later if night overtakes the conqueror in the +crisis, and, lastly, it comes later still if the country is broken and +thickly wooded. But with regard to these two points, we must observe +that night is also a great means of protection, and it is only seldom +that circumstances favour the expectation of a successful result from +a night attack, as on March 10, 1814, at Laon,(*) where York against +Marmont gives us an example completely in place here. In the same way a +wooded and broken country will afford protection against a reaction to +those who are engaged in the long crisis of victory. Both, therefore, +the night as well as the wooded and broken country are obstacles +which make the renewal of the same battle more difficult instead of +facilitating it. + + (*) The celebrated charge at night upon Marmont's Corps. + +Hitherto, we have considered assistance arriving for the losing side +as a mere increase of force, therefore, as a reinforcement coming up +directly from the rear, which is the most usual case. But the case is +quite different if these fresh forces come upon the enemy in flank or +rear. + +On the effect of flank or rear attacks so far as they belong to +Strategy, we shall speak in another place: such a one as we have here +in view, intended for the restoration of the combat, belongs chiefly to +tactics, and is only mentioned because we are here speaking of tactical +results, our ideas, therefore, must trench upon the province of tactics. + +By directing a force against the enemy's flank and rear its efficacy may +be much intensified; but this is so far from being a necessary result +always that the efficacy may, on the other hand, be just as much +weakened. The circumstances under which the combat has taken place +decide upon this part of the plan as well as upon every other, without +our being able to enter thereupon here. But, at the same time, there are +in it two things of importance for our subject: first, FLANK AND REAR +ATTACKS HAVE, AS A RULE, A MORE FAVOURABLE EFFECT ON THE CONSEQUENCES +OF THE DECISION THAN UPON THE DECISION ITSELF. Now as concerns the +retrieving a battle, the first thing to be arrived at above all is a +favourable decision and not magnitude of success. In this view one would +therefore think that a force which comes to re-establish our combat +is of less assistance if it falls upon the enemy in flank and rear, +therefore separated from us, than if it joins itself to us directly; +certainly, cases are not wanting where it is so, but we must say that +the majority are on the other side, and they are so on account of the +second point which is here important to us. + +This second point IS THE MORAL EFFECT OF THE SURPRISE, WHICH, AS A RULE, +A REINFORCEMENT COMING UP TO RE-ESTABLISH A COMBAT HAS GENERALLY IN ITS +FAVOUR. Now the effect of a surprise is always heightened if it takes +place in the flank or rear, and an enemy completely engaged in the +crisis of victory in his extended and scattered order, is less in a +state to counteract it. Who does not feel that an attack in flank or +rear, which at the commencement of the battle, when the forces +are concentrated and prepared for such an event would be of little +importance, gains quite another weight in the last moment of the combat. + +We must, therefore, at once admit that in most cases a reinforcement +coming up on the flank or rear of the enemy will be more efficacious, +will be like the same weight at the end of a longer lever, and therefore +that under these circumstances, we may undertake to restore the battle +with the same force which employed in a direct attack would be quite +insufficient. Here results almost defy calculation, because the moral +forces gain completely the ascendency. This is therefore the right field +for boldness and daring. + +The eye must, therefore, be directed on all these objects, all these +moments of co-operating forces must be taken into consideration, when we +have to decide in doubtful cases whether or not it is still possible to +restore a combat which has taken an unfavourable turn. + +If the combat is to be regarded as not yet ended, then the new contest +which is opened by the arrival of assistance fuses into the former; +therefore they flow together into one common result, and the first +disadvantage vanishes completely out of the calculation. But this is not +the case if the combat was already decided; then there are two results +separate from each other. Now if the assistance which arrives is only of +a relative strength, that is, if it is not in itself alone a match for +the enemy, then a favourable result is hardly to be expected from this +second combat: but if it is so strong that it can undertake the second +combat without regard to the first, then it may be able by a favourable +issue to compensate or even overbalance the first combat, but never to +make it disappear altogether from the account. + +At the battle of Kunersdorf,(*) Frederick the Great at the first onset +carried the left of the Russian position, and took seventy pieces of +artillery; at the end of the battle both were lost again, and the whole +result of the first combat was wiped out of the account. Had it been +possible to stop at the first success, and to put off the second part +of the battle to the coming day, then, even if the King had lost it, the +advantages of the first would always have been a set off to the second. + + (*) August 12, 1759. + +But when a battle proceeding disadvantageously is arrested and turned +before its conclusion, its minus result on our side not only disappears +from the account, but also becomes the foundation of a greater victory. +If, for instance, we picture to ourselves exactly the tactical course +of the battle, we may easily see that until it is finally concluded all +successes in partial combats are only decisions in suspense, which by +the capital decision may not only be destroyed, but changed into the +opposite. The more our forces have suffered, the more the enemy will +have expended on his side; the greater, therefore, will be the crisis +for the enemy, and the more the superiority of our fresh troops will +tell. If now the total result turns in our favour, if we wrest from the +enemy the field of battle and recover all the trophies again, then all +the forces which he has sacrificed in obtaining them become sheer gain +for us, and our former defeat becomes a stepping-stone to a greater +triumph. The most brilliant feats which with victory the enemy would +have so highly prized that the loss of forces which they cost would have +been disregarded, leave nothing now behind but regret at the sacrifice +entailed. Such is the alteration which the magic of victory and the +curse of defeat produces in the specific weight of the same elements. + +Therefore, even if we are decidedly superior in strength, and are able +to repay the enemy his victory by a greater still, it is always better +to forestall the conclusion of a disadvantageous combat, if it is +of proportionate importance, so as to turn its course rather than to +deliver a second battle. + +Field-Marshal Daun attempted in the year 1760 to come to the assistance +of General Laudon at Leignitz, whilst the battle lasted; but when he +failed, he did not attack the King next day, although he did not want +for means to do so. + +For these reasons serious combats of advance guards which precede a +battle are to be looked upon only as necessary evils, and when not +necessary they are to be avoided.(*) + + (*) This, however, was not Napoleon's view. A vigorous + attack of his advance guard he held to be necessary always, + to fix the enemy's attention and "paralyse his independent + will-power." It was the failure to make this point which, in + August 1870, led von Moltke repeatedly into the very jaws of + defeat, from which only the lethargy of Bazaine on the one + hand and the initiative of his subordinates, notably of von + Alvensleben, rescued him. This is the essence of the new + Strategic Doctrine of the French General Staff. See the + works of Bonnal, Foch, &C.--EDITOR + +We have still another conclusion to examine. + +If on a regular pitched battle, the decision has gone against one, +this does not constitute a motive for determining on a new one. The +determination for this new one must proceed from other relations. This +conclusion, however, is opposed by a moral force, which we must take +into account: it is the feeling of rage and revenge. From the oldest +Field-Marshal to the youngest drummer-boy this feeling is general, and, +therefore, troops are never in better spirits for fighting than when +they have to wipe out a stain. This is, however, only on the supposition +that the beaten portion is not too great in proportion to the whole, +because otherwise the above feeling is lost in that of powerlessness. + +There is therefore a very natural tendency to use this moral force to +repair the disaster on the spot, and on that account chiefly to seek +another battle if other circumstances permit. It then lies in the nature +of the case that this second battle must be an offensive one. + +In the catalogue of battles of second-rate importance there are many +examples to be found of such retaliatory battles; but great battles have +generally too many other determining causes to be brought on by this +weaker motive. + +Such a feeling must undoubtedly have led the noble Bluecher with his +third Corps to the field of battle on February 14, 1814, when the other +two had been beaten three days before at Montmirail. Had he known +that he would have come upon Buonaparte in person, then, naturally, +preponderating reasons would have determined him to put off his revenge +to another day: but he hoped to revenge himself on Marmont, and instead +of gaining the reward of his desire for honourable satisfaction, he +suffered the penalty of his erroneous calculation. + +On the duration of the combat and the moment of its decision depend the +distances from each other at which those masses should be placed which +are intended to fight IN CONJUNCTION WITH each other. This disposition +would be a tactical arrangement in so far as it relates to one and the +same battle; it can, however, only be regarded as such, provided the +position of the troops is so compact that two separate combats cannot be +imagined, and consequently that the space which the whole occupies can +be regarded strategically as a mere point. But in War, cases frequently +occur where even those forces intended to fight IN UNISON must be so far +separated from each other that while their union for one common combat +certainly remains the principal object, still the occurrence of separate +combats remains possible. Such a disposition is therefore strategic. + +Dispositions of this kind are: marches in separate masses and columns, +the formation of advance guards, and flanking columns, also the grouping +of reserves intended to serve as supports for more than one strategic +point; the concentration of several Corps from widely extended +cantonments, &c. &c. We can see that the necessity for these +arrangements may constantly arise, and may consider them something like +the small change in the strategic economy, whilst the capital battles, +and all that rank with them are the gold and silver pieces. + + + +CHAPTER VIII. MUTUAL UNDERSTANDING AS TO A BATTLE + +NO battle can take place unless by mutual consent; and in this idea, +which constitutes the whole basis of a duel, is the root of a certain +phraseology used by historical writers, which leads to many indefinite +and false conceptions. + +According to the view of the writers to whom we refer, it has frequently +happened that one Commander has offered battle to the other, and the +latter has not accepted it. + +But the battle is a very modified duel, and its foundation is not merely +in the mutual wish to fight, that is in consent, but in the objects +which are bound up with the battle: these belong always to a greater +whole, and that so much the more, as even the whole war considered as +a "combat-unit" has political objects and conditions which belong to a +higher standpoint. The mere desire to conquer each other therefore falls +into quite a subordinate relation, or rather it ceases completely to be +anything of itself, and only becomes the nerve which conveys the impulse +of action from the higher will. + +Amongst the ancients, and then again during the early period of standing +Armies, the expression that we had offered battle to the enemy in vain, +had more sense in it than it has now. By the ancients everything was +constituted with a view to measuring each other's strength in the open +field free from anything in the nature of a hindrance,(*) and the whole +Art of War consisted in the organisation, and formation of the Army, +that is in the order of battle. + + (*) Note the custom of sending formal challenges, fix time + and place for action, and "enhazelug" the battlefield in + Anglo-Saxon times.--ED. + +Now as their Armies regularly entrenched themselves in their camps, +therefore the position in a camp was regarded as something unassailable, +and a battle did not become possible until the enemy left his camp, and +placed himself in a practicable country, as it were entered the lists. + +If therefore we hear about Hannibal having offered battle to Fabius +in vain, that tells us nothing more as regards the latter than that +a battle was not part of his plan, and in itself neither proves the +physical nor moral superiority of Hannibal; but with respect to him the +expression is still correct enough in the sense that Hannibal really +wished a battle. + +In the early period of modern Armies, the relations were similar in +great combats and battles. That is to say, great masses were brought +into action, and managed throughout it by means of an order of battle, +which like a great helpless whole required a more or less level plain +and was neither suited to attack, nor yet to defence in a broken, close +or even mountainous country. The defender therefore had here also to +some extent the means of avoiding battle. These relations although +gradually becoming modified, continued until the first Silesian War, and +it was not until the Seven Years' War that attacks on an enemy posted in a +difficult country gradually became feasible, and of ordinary occurrence: +ground did not certainly cease to be a principle of strength to those +making use of its aid, but it was no longer a charmed circle, which shut +out the natural forces of War. + +During the past thirty years War has perfected itself much more in this +respect, and there is no longer anything which stands in the way of a +General who is in earnest about a decision by means of battle; he can +seek out his enemy, and attack him: if he does not do so he cannot +take credit for having wished to fight, and the expression he offered +a battle which his opponent did not accept, therefore now means nothing +more than that he did not find circumstances advantageous enough for a +battle, an admission which the above expression does not suit, but which +it only strives to throw a veil over. + +It is true the defensive side can no longer refuse a battle, yet he may +still avoid it by giving up his position, and the role with which that +position was connected: this is however half a victory for the offensive +side, and an acknowledgment of his superiority for the present. + +This idea in connection with the cartel of defiance can therefore no +longer be made use of in order by such rhodomontade to qualify the +inaction of him whose part it is to advance, that is, the offensive. The +defender who as long as he does not give way, must have the credit of +willing the battle, may certainly say, he has offered it if he is not +attacked, if that is not understood of itself. + +But on the other hand, he who now wishes to, and can retreat cannot +easily be forced to give battle. Now as the advantages to the aggressor +from this retreat are often not sufficient, and a substantial victory +is a matter of urgent necessity for him, in that way the few means +which there are to compel such an opponent also to give battle are often +sought for and applied with particular skill. + +The principal means for this are--first SURROUNDING the enemy so as to +make his retreat impossible, or at least so difficult that it is better +for him to accept battle; and, secondly, SURPRISING him. This last way, +for which there was a motive formerly in the extreme difficulty of all +movements, has become in modern times very inefficacious. + +From the pliability and manoeuvring capabilities of troops in the +present day, one does not hesitate to commence a retreat even in sight +of the enemy, and only some special obstacles in the nature of the +country can cause serious difficulties in the operation. + +As an example of this kind the battle of Neresheim may be given, fought +by the Archduke Charles with Moreau in the Rauhe Alp, August 11, 1796, +merely with a view to facilitate his retreat, although we freely confess +we have never been able quite to understand the argument of the renowned +general and author himself in this case. + +The battle of Rosbach(*) is another example, if we suppose the commander +of the allied army had not really the intention of attacking Frederick +the Great. + + (*) November 5, 1757. + +Of the battle of Soor,(*) the King himself says that it was only +fought because a retreat in the presence of the enemy appeared to him +a critical operation; at the same time the King has also given other +reasons for the battle. + + (*) Or Sohr, September 30, 1745. + +On the whole, regular night surprises excepted, such cases will always +be of rare occurrence, and those in which an enemy is compelled to fight +by being practically surrounded, will happen mostly to single corps +only, like Mortier's at Durrenstein 1809, and Vandamme at Kulm, 1813. + + + +CHAPTER IX. THE BATTLE(*) + + (*) Clausewitz still uses the word "die Hauptschlacht" but + modern usage employs only the word "die Schlacht" to + designate the decisive act of a whole campaign--encounters + arising from the collision or troops marching towards the + strategic culmination of each portion or the campaign are + spoken of either as "Treffen," i.e., "engagements" or + "Gefecht," i.e., "combat" or "action." Thus technically, + Gravelotte was a "Schlacht," i.e., "battle," but Spicheren, + Woerth, Borny, even Vionville were only "Treffen." + +ITS DECISION + +WHAT is a battle? A conflict of the main body, but not an unimportant +one about a secondary object, not a mere attempt which is given up +when we see betimes that our object is hardly within our reach: it is +a conflict waged with all our forces for the attainment of a decisive +victory. + +Minor objects may also be mixed up with the principal object, and it +will take many different tones of colour from the circumstances out of +which it originates, for a battle belongs also to a greater whole of +which it is only a part, but because the essence of War is conflict, +and the battle is the conflict of the main Armies, it is always to be +regarded as the real centre of gravity of the War, and therefore its +distinguishing character is, that unlike all other encounters, it +is arranged for, and undertaken with the sole purpose of obtaining a +decisive victory. + +This has an influence on the MANNER OF ITS DECISION, on the EFFECT OF +THE VICTORY CONTAINED IN IT, and determines THE VALUE WHICH THEORY IS TO +ASSIGN TO IT AS A MEANS TO AN END. + +On that account we make it the subject of our special consideration, and +at this stage before we enter upon the special ends which may be bound +up with it, but which do not essentially alter its character if it +really deserves to be termed a battle. + +If a battle takes place principally on its own account, the elements of +its decision must be contained in itself; in other words, victory must +be striven for as long as a possibility or hope remains. It must not, +therefore, be given up on account of secondary circumstances, but only +and alone in the event of the forces appearing completely insufficient. + +Now how is that precise moment to be described? + +If a certain artificial formation and cohesion of an Army is the +principal condition under which the bravery of the troops can gain a +victory, as was the case during a great part of the period of the modern +Art of War, THEN THE BREAKING UP OF THIS FORMATION is the decision. A +beaten wing which is put out of joint decides the fate of all that was +connected with it. If as was the case at another time the essence of the +defence consists in an intimate alliance of the Army with the ground on +which it fights and its obstacles, so that Army and position are only +one, then the CONQUEST of AN ESSENTIAL POINT in this position is +the decision. It is said the key of the position is lost, it cannot +therefore be defended any further; the battle cannot be continued. In +both cases the beaten Armies are very much like the broken strings of an +instrument which cannot do their work. + +That geometrical as well as this geographical principle which had a +tendency to place an Army in a state of crystallising tension which did +not allow of the available powers being made use of up to the last +man, have at least so far lost their influence that they no longer +predominate. Armies are still led into battle in a certain order, but +that order is no longer of decisive importance; obstacles of ground are +also still turned to account to strengthen a position, but they are no +longer the only support. + +We attempted in the second chapter of this book to take a general view +of the nature of the modern battle. According to our conception of it, +the order of battle is only a disposition of the forces suitable to +the convenient use of them, and the course of the battle a mutual slow +wearing away of these forces upon one another, to see which will have +soonest exhausted his adversary. + +The resolution therefore to give up the fight arises, in a battle +more than in any other combat, from the relation of the fresh reserves +remaining available; for only these still retain all their moral vigour, +and the cinders of the battered, knocked-about battalions, already burnt +out in the destroying element, must not be placed on a level with them; +also lost ground as we have elsewhere said, is a standard of lost moral +force; it therefore comes also into account, but more as a sign of loss +suffered than for the loss itself, and the number of fresh reserves is +always the chief point to be looked at by both Commanders. + +In general, an action inclines in one direction from the very +commencement, but in a manner little observable. This direction is also +frequently given in a very decided manner by the arrangements which have +been made previously, and then it shows a want of discernment in that +General who commences battle under these unfavourable circumstances +without being aware of them. Even when this does not occur it lies in +the nature of things that the course of a battle resembles rather a slow +disturbance of equilibrium which commences soon, but as we have said +almost imperceptibly at first, and then with each moment of time becomes +stronger and more visible, than an oscillating to and fro, as those who +are misled by mendacious descriptions usually suppose. + +But whether it happens that the balance is for a long time little +disturbed, or that even after it has been lost on one side it rights +itself again, and is then lost on the other side, it is certain at all +events that in most instances the defeated General foresees his fate +long before he retreats, and that cases in which some critical event +acts with unexpected force upon the course of the whole have their +existence mostly in the colouring with which every one depicts his lost +battle. + +We can only here appeal to the decision of unprejudiced men of +experience, who will, we are sure, assent to what we have said, and +answer for us to such of our readers as do not know War from their own +experience. To develop the necessity of this course from the nature of +the thing would lead us too far into the province of tactics, to which +this branch of the subject belongs; we are here only concerned with its +results. + +If we say that the defeated General foresees the unfavourable result +usually some time before he makes up his mind to give up the battle, we +admit that there are also instances to the contrary, because otherwise +we should maintain a proposition contradictory in itself. If at the +moment of each decisive tendency of a battle it should be considered as +lost, then also no further forces should be used to give it a turn, and +consequently this decisive tendency could not precede the retreat by +any length of time. Certainly there are instances of battles which after +having taken a decided turn to one side have still ended in favour +of the other; but they are rare, not usual; these exceptional cases, +however, are reckoned upon by every General against whom fortune +declares itself, and he must reckon upon them as long as there remains +a possibility of a turn of fortune. He hopes by stronger efforts, by +raising the remaining moral forces, by surpassing himself, or also by +some fortunate chance that the next moment will bring a change, and +pursues this as far as his courage and his judgment can agree. We shall +have something more to say on this subject, but before that we must show +what are the signs of the scales turning. + +The result of the whole combat consists in the sum total of the results +of all partial combats; but these results of separate combats are +settled by different considerations. + +First by the pure moral power in the mind of the leading officers. If a +General of Division has seen his battalions forced to succumb, it will +have an influence on his demeanour and his reports, and these again will +have an influence on the measures of the Commander-in-Chief; therefore +even those unsuccessful partial combats which to all appearance are +retrieved, are not lost in their results, and the impressions from them +sum themselves up in the mind of the Commander without much trouble, and +even against his will. + +Secondly, by the quicker melting away of our troops, which can be easily +estimated in the slow and relatively(*) little tumultuary course of our +battles. + + (*) Relatively, that is say to the shock of former days. + +Thirdly, by lost ground. + +All these things serve for the eye of the General as a compass to tell +the course of the battle in which he is embarked. If whole batteries +have been lost and none of the enemy's taken; if battalions have been +overthrown by the enemy's cavalry, whilst those of the enemy everywhere +present impenetrable masses; if the line of fire from his order of +battle wavers involuntarily from one point to another; if fruitless +efforts have been made to gain certain points, and the assaulting +battalions each, time been scattered by well-directed volleys of grape +and case;--if our artillery begins to reply feebly to that of the +enemy--if the battalions under fire diminish unusually, fast, because +with the wounded crowds of unwounded men go to the rear;--if single +Divisions have been cut off and made prisoners through the disruption of +the plan of the battle;--if the line of retreat begins to be endangered: +the Commander may tell very well in which direction he is going with +his battle. The longer this direction continues, the more decided it +becomes, so much the more difficult will be the turning, so much the +nearer the moment when he must give up the battle. We shall now make +some observations on this moment. + +We have already said more than once that the final decision is ruled +mostly by the relative number of the fresh reserves remaining at the +last; that Commander who sees his adversary is decidedly superior to him +in this respect makes up his mind to retreat. It is the characteristic +of modern battles that all mischances and losses which take place in +the course of the same can be retrieved by fresh forces, because the +arrangement of the modern order of battle, and the way in which troops +are brought into action, allow of their use almost generally, and in +each position. So long, therefore, as that Commander against whom the +issue seems to declare itself still retains a superiority in reserve +force, he will not give up the day. But from the moment that his +reserves begin to become weaker than his enemy's, the decision may be +regarded as settled, and what he now does depends partly on special +circumstances, partly on the degree of courage and perseverance which he +personally possesses, and which may degenerate into foolish obstinacy. +How a Commander can attain to the power of estimating correctly the +still remaining reserves on both sides is an affair of skilful practical +genius, which does not in any way belong to this place; we keep +ourselves to the result as it forms itself in his mind. But this +conclusion is still not the moment of decision properly, for a motive +which only arises gradually does not answer to that, but is only a +general motive towards resolution, and the resolution itself requires +still some special immediate causes. Of these there are two chief ones +which constantly recur, that is, the danger of retreat, and the arrival +of night. + +If the retreat with every new step which the battle takes in its course +becomes constantly in greater danger, and if the reserves are so much +diminished that they are no longer adequate to get breathing room, then +there is nothing left but to submit to fate, and by a well-conducted +retreat to save what, by a longer delay ending in flight and disaster, +would be lost. + +But night as a rule puts an end to all battles, because a night combat +holds out no hope of advantage except under particular circumstances; +and as night is better suited for a retreat than the day, so, therefore, +the Commander who must look at the retreat as a thing inevitable, or as +most probable, will prefer to make use of the night for his purpose. + +That there are, besides the above two usual and chief causes, yet many +others also, which are less or more individual and not to be overlooked, +is a matter of course; for the more a battle tends towards a complete +upset of equilibrium the more sensible is the influence of each partial +result in hastening the turn. Thus the loss of a battery, a successful +charge of a couple of regiments of cavalry, may call into life the +resolution to retreat already ripening. + +As a conclusion to this subject, we must dwell for a moment on the point +at which the courage of the Commander engages in a sort of conflict with +his reason. + +If, on the one hand the overbearing pride of a victorious conqueror, if +the inflexible will of a naturally obstinate spirit, if the strenuous +resistance of noble feelings will not yield the battlefield, where they +must leave their honour, yet on the other hand, reason counsels not to +give up everything, not to risk the last upon the game, but to retain as +much over as is necessary for an orderly retreat. However highly we must +esteem courage and firmness in War, and however little prospect there is +of victory to him who cannot resolve to seek it by the exertion of all +his power, still there is a point beyond which perseverance can only be +termed desperate folly, and therefore can meet with no approbation +from any critic. In the most celebrated of all battles, that of +Belle-Alliance, Buonaparte used his last reserve in an effort to +retrieve a battle which was past being retrieved. He spent his last +farthing, and then, as a beggar, abandoned both the battle-field and his +crown. + + + +CHAPTER X. EFFECTS OF VICTORY (continuation) + +ACCORDING to the point from which our view is taken, we may feel as much +astonished at the extraordinary results of some great battles as at the +want of results in others. We shall dwell for a moment on the nature of +the effect of a great victory. + +Three things may easily be distinguished here: the effect upon the +instrument itself, that is, upon the Generals and their Armies; the +effect upon the States interested in the War; and the particular result +of these effects as manifested in the subsequent course of the campaign. + +If we only think of the trifling difference which there usually is +between victor and vanquished in killed, wounded, prisoners, and +artillery lost on the field of battle itself, the consequences which +are developed out of this insignificant point seem often quite +incomprehensible, and yet, usually, everything only happens quite +naturally. + +We have already said in the seventh chapter that the magnitude of a +victory increases not merely in the same measure as the vanquished +forces increase in number, but in a higher ratio. The moral effects +resulting from the issue of a great battle are greater on the side of +the conquered than on that of the conqueror: they lead to greater losses +in physical force, which then in turn react on the moral element, and +so they go on mutually supporting and intensifying each other. On this +moral effect we must therefore lay special weight. It takes an opposite +direction on the one side from that on the other; as it undermines the +energies of the conquered so it elevates the powers and energy of the +conqueror. But its chief effect is upon the vanquished, because here it +is the direct cause of fresh losses, and besides it is homogeneous in +nature with danger, with the fatigues, the hardships, and generally +with all those embarrassing circumstances by which War is surrounded, +therefore enters into league with them and increases by their help, +whilst with the conqueror all these things are like weights which give a +higher swing to his courage. It is therefore found, that the vanquished +sinks much further below the original line of equilibrium than the +conqueror raises himself above it; on this account, if we speak of the +effects of victory we allude more particularly to those which manifest +themselves in the army. If this effect is more powerful in an important +combat than in a smaller one, so again it is much more powerful in a +great battle than in a minor one. The great battle takes place for the +sake of itself, for the sake of the victory which it is to give, and +which is sought for with the utmost effort. Here on this spot, in this +very hour, to conquer the enemy is the purpose in which the plan of the +War with all its threads converges, in which all distant hopes, all +dim glimmerings of the future meet, fate steps in before us to give an +answer to the bold question.--This is the state of mental tension +not only of the Commander but of his whole Army down to the lowest +waggon-driver, no doubt in decreasing strength but also in decreasing +importance. + +According to the nature of the thing, a great battle has never at any +time been an unprepared, unexpected, blind routine service, but a grand +act, which, partly of itself and partly from the aim of the Commander, +stands out from amongst the mass of ordinary efforts, sufficiently to +raise the tension of all minds to a higher degree. But the higher this +tension with respect to the issue, the more powerful must be the effect +of that issue. + +Again, the moral effect of victory in our battles is greater than it was +in the earlier ones of modern military history. If the former are as we +have depicted them, a real struggle of forces to the utmost, then the +sum total of all these forces, of the physical as well as the moral, +must decide more than certain special dispositions or mere chance. + +A single fault committed may be repaired next time; from good fortune +and chance we can hope for more favour on another occasion; but the sum +total of moral and physical powers cannot be so quickly altered, and, +therefore, what the award of a victory has decided appears of much +greater importance for all futurity. Very probably, of all concerned in +battles, whether in or out of the Army, very few have given a thought +to this difference, but the course of the battle itself impresses on the +minds of all present in it such a conviction, and the relation of this +course in public documents, however much it may be coloured by twisting +particular circumstances, shows also, more or less, to the world at +large that the causes were more of a general than of a particular +nature. + +He who has not been present at the loss of a great battle will have +difficulty in forming for himself a living or quite true idea of it, and +the abstract notions of this or that small untoward affair will never +come up to the perfect conception of a lost battle. Let us stop a moment +at the picture. + +The first thing which overpowers the imagination--and we may indeed say, +also the understanding--is the diminution of the masses; then the loss +of ground, which takes place always, more or less, and, therefore, on +the side of the assailant also, if he is not fortunate; then the rupture +of the original formation, the jumbling together of troops, the risks +of retreat, which, with few exceptions may always be seen sometimes in +a less sometimes in a greater degree; next the retreat, the most part of +which commences at night, or, at least, goes on throughout the night. +On this first march we must at once leave behind, a number of men +completely worn out and scattered about, often just the bravest, who +have been foremost in the fight who held out the longest: the feeling +of being conquered, which only seized the superior officers on the +battlefield, now spreads through all ranks, even down to the common +soldiers, aggravated by the horrible idea of being obliged to leave in +the enemy's hands so many brave comrades, who but a moment since were of +such value to us in the battle, and aggravated by a rising distrust +of the chief, to whom, more or less, every subordinate attributes as +a fault the fruitless efforts he has made; and this feeling of being +conquered is no ideal picture over which one might become master; it is +an evident truth that the enemy is superior to us; a truth of which +the causes might have been so latent before that they were not to be +discovered, but which, in the issue, comes out clear and palpable, or +which was also, perhaps, before suspected, but which in the want of +any certainty, we had to oppose by the hope of chance, reliance on +good fortune, Providence or a bold attitude. Now, all this has proved +insufficient, and the bitter truth meets us harsh and imperious. + +All these feelings are widely different from a panic, which in an +army fortified by military virtue never, and in any other, only +exceptionally, follows the loss of a battle. They must arise even in +the best of Armies, and although long habituation to War and victory +together with great confidence in a Commander may modify them a little +here and there, they are never entirely wanting in the first moment. +They are not the pure consequences of lost trophies; these are usually +lost at a later period, and the loss of them does not become generally +known so quickly; they will therefore not fail to appear even when the +scale turns in the slowest and most gradual manner, and they constitute +that effect of a victory upon which we can always count in every case. + +We have already said that the number of trophies intensifies this +effect. + +It is evident that an Army in this condition, looked at as an +instrument, is weakened! How can we expect that when reduced to such a +degree that, as we said before, it finds new enemies in all the ordinary +difficulties of making War, it will be able to recover by fresh efforts +what has been lost! Before the battle there was a real or assumed +equilibrium between the two sides; this is lost, and, therefore, some +external assistance is requisite to restore it; every new effort without +such external support can only lead to fresh losses. + +Thus, therefore, the most moderate victory of the chief Army must tend +to cause a constant sinking of the scale on the opponent's side, until +new external circumstances bring about a change. If these are not near, +if the conqueror is an eager opponent, who, thirsting for glory, pursues +great aims, then a first-rate Commander, and in the beaten Army a true +military spirit, hardened by many campaigns are required, in order to +stop the swollen stream of prosperity from bursting all bounds, and to +moderate its course by small but reiterated acts of resistance, until +the force of victory has spent itself at the goal of its career. + +And now as to the effect of defeat beyond the Army, upon the Nation and +Government! It is the sudden collapse of hopes stretched to the utmost, +the downfall of all self-reliance. In place of these extinct forces, +fear, with its destructive properties of expansion, rushes into the +vacuum left, and completes the prostration. It is a real shock upon the +nerves, which one of the two athletes receives from the electric spark +of victory. And that effect, however different in its degrees, is never +completely wanting. Instead of every one hastening with a spirit of +determination to aid in repairing the disaster, every one fears that his +efforts will only be in vain, and stops, hesitating with himself, when +he should rush forward; or in despondency he lets his arm drop, leaving +everything to fate. + +The consequence which this effect of victory brings forth in the course +of the War itself depend in part on the character and talent of the +victorious General, but more on the circumstances from which the victory +proceeds, and to which it leads. Without boldness and an enterprising +spirit on the part of the leader, the most brilliant victory will lead +to no great success, and its force exhausts itself all the sooner on +circumstances, if these offer a strong and stubborn opposition to it. +How very differently from Daun, Frederick the Great would have used the +victory at Kollin; and what different consequences France, in place of +Prussia, might have given a battle of Leuthen! + +The conditions which allow us to expect great results from a great +victory we shall learn when we come to the subjects with which they are +connected; then it will be possible to explain the disproportion which +appears at first sight between the magnitude of a victory and its +results, and which is only too readily attributed to a want of energy +on the part of the conqueror. Here, where we have to do with the great +battle in itself, we shall merely say that the effects now depicted +never fail to attend a victory, that they mount up with the intensive +strength of the victory--mount up more the more the whole strength of +the Army has been concentrated in it, the more the whole military power +of the Nation is contained in that Army, and the State in that military +power. + +But then the question may be asked, Can theory accept this effect of +victory as absolutely necessary?--must it not rather endeavour to find +out counteracting means capable of neutralising these effects? It seems +quite natural to answer this question in the affirmative; but heaven +defend us from taking that wrong course of most theories, out of which +is begotten a mutually devouring Pro et Contra. + +Certainly that effect is perfectly necessary, for it has its foundation +in the nature of things, and it exists, even if we find means to +struggle against it; just as the motion of a cannon ball is always in +the direction of the terrestrial, although when fired from east to west +part of the general velocity is destroyed by this opposite motion. + +All War supposes human weakness, and against that it is directed. + +Therefore, if hereafter in another place we examine what is to be done +after the loss of a great battle, if we bring under review the resources +which still remain, even in the most desperate cases, if we should +express a belief in the possibility of retrieving all, even in such a +case; it must not be supposed we mean thereby that the effects of such a +defeat can by degrees be completely wiped out, for the forces and means +used to repair the disaster might have been applied to the realisation +of some positive object; and this applies both to the moral and physical +forces. + +Another question is, whether, through the loss of a great battle, forces +are not perhaps roused into existence, which otherwise would never have +come to life. This case is certainly conceivable, and it is what has +actually occurred with many Nations. But to produce this intensified +reaction is beyond the province of military art, which can only take +account of it where it might be assumed as a possibility. + +If there are cases in which the fruits of a victory appear rather of a +destructive nature in consequence of the reaction of the forces which it +had the effect of rousing into activity--cases which certainly are very +exceptional--then it must the more surely be granted, that there is a +difference in the effects which one and the same victory may produce +according to the character of the people or state, which has been +conquered. + + + +CHAPTER XI. THE USE OF THE BATTLE (continued) + +WHATEVER form the conduct of War may take in particular cases, and +whatever we may have to admit in the sequel as necessary respecting it: +we have only to refer to the conception of War to be convinced of what +follows: + +1. The destruction of the enemy's military force, is the leading +principle of War, and for the whole chapter of positive action the +direct way to the object. + +2. This destruction of the enemy's force, must be principally effected +by means of battle. + +3. Only great and general battles can produce great results. + +4. The results will be greatest when combats unite themselves in one +great battle. + +5. It is only in a great battle that the General-in-Chief commands in +person, and it is in the nature of things, that he should place more +confidence in himself than in his subordinates. + +From these truths a double law follows, the parts of which mutually +support each other; namely, that the destruction of the enemy's military +force is to be sought for principally by great battles, and their +results; and that the chief object of great battles must be the +destruction of the enemy's military force. + +No doubt the annihilation-principle is to be found more or less in +other means--granted there are instances in which through favourable +circumstances in a minor combat, the destruction of the enemy's forces +has been disproportionately great (Maxen), and on the other hand in +a battle, the taking or holding a single post may be predominant in +importance as an object--but as a general rule it remains a paramount +truth, that battles are only fought with a view to the destruction of +the enemy's Army, and that this destruction can only be effected by +their means. + +The battle may therefore be regarded as War concentrated, as the centre +of effort of the whole War or campaign. As the sun's rays unite in the +focus of the concave mirror in a perfect image, and in the fulness of +their heat; to the forces and circumstances of War, unite in a focus in +the great battle for one concentrated utmost effort. + +The very assemblage of forces in one great whole, which takes place more +or less in all Wars, indicates an intention to strike a decisive blow +with this whole, either voluntarily as assailant, or constrained by the +opposite party as defender. When this great blow does not follow, then +some modifying, and retarding motives have attached themselves to the +original motive of hostility, and have weakened, altered or completely +checked the movement. But also, even in this condition of mutual +inaction which has been the key-note in so many Wars, the idea of a +possible battle serves always for both parties as a point of direction, +a distant focus in the construction of their plans. The more War is +War in earnest, the more it is a venting of animosity and hostility, a +mutual struggle to overpower, so much the more will all activities join +deadly contest, and also the more prominent in importance becomes the +battle. + +In general, when the object aimed at is of a great and positive nature, +one therefore in which the interests of the enemy are deeply concerned, +the battle offers itself as the most natural means; it is, therefore, +also the best as we shall show more plainly hereafter: and, as a rule, +when it is evaded from aversion to the great decision, punishment +follows. + +The positive object belong to the offensive, and therefore the battle is +also more particularly his means. But without examining the conception +of offensive and defensive more minutely here, we must still observe +that, even for the defender in most cases, there is no other effectual +means with which to meet the exigencies of his situation, to solve the +problem presented to him. + +The battle is the bloodiest way of solution. True, it is not merely +reciprocal slaughter, and its effect is more a killing of the enemy's +courage than of the enemy's soldiers, as we shall see more plainly in +the next chapter--but still blood is always its price, and slaughter its +character as well as name;(*) from this the humanity in the General's +mind recoils with horror. + + (*) "Schlacht", from schlachten = to slaughter. + +But the soul of the man trembles still more at the thought of the +decision to be given with one single blow. IN ONE POINT of space and +time all action is here pressed together, and at such a moment there is +stirred up within us a dim feeling as if in this narrow space all our +forces could not develop themselves and come into activity, as if we had +already gained much by mere time, although this time owes us nothing at +all. This is all mere illusion, but even as illusion it is something, +and the same weakness which seizes upon the man in every other +momentous decision may well be felt more powerfully by the General, when +he must stake interests of such enormous weight upon one venture. + +Thus, then, Statesmen and Generals have at all times endeavoured to +avoid the decisive battle, seeking either to attain their aim without +it, or dropping that aim unperceived. Writers on history and theory +have then busied themselves to discover in some other feature in these +campaigns not only an equivalent for the decision by battle which has +been avoided, but even a higher art. In this way, in the present age, it +came very near to this, that a battle in the economy of War was looked +upon as an evil, rendered necessary through some error committed, a +morbid paroxysm to which a regular prudent system of War would never +lead: only those Generals were to deserve laurels who knew how to carry +on War without spilling blood, and the theory of War--a real business +for Brahmins--was to be specially directed to teaching this. + +Contemporary history has destroyed this illusion,(*) but no one can +guarantee that it will not sooner or later reproduce itself, and +lead those at the head of affairs to perversities which please man's +weakness, and therefore have the greater affinity for his nature. +Perhaps, by-and-by, Buonaparte's campaigns and battles will be looked +upon as mere acts of barbarism and stupidity, and we shall once more +turn with satisfaction and confidence to the dress-sword of obsolete and +musty institutions and forms. If theory gives a caution against this, +then it renders a real service to those who listen to its warning voice. +MAY WE SUCCEED IN LENDING A HAND TO THOSE WHO IN OUR DEAR NATIVE LAND +ARE CALLED UPON TO SPEAK WITH AUTHORITY ON THESE MATTERS, THAT WE MAY BE +THEIR GUIDE INTO THIS FIELD OF INQUIRY, AND EXCITE THEM TO MAKE A CANDID +EXAMINATION OF THE SUBJECT.(**) + + (*) On the Continent only, it still preserves full vitality + in the minds of British politicians and pressmen.--EDITOR. + + (**) This prayer was abundantly granted--vide the German + victories of 1870.--EDITOR. + +Not only the conception of War but experience also leads us to look +for a great decision only in a great battle. From time immemorial, only +great victories have led to great successes on the offensive side in +the absolute form, on the defensive side in a manner more or less +satisfactory. Even Buonaparte would not have seen the day of Ulm, unique +in its kind, if he had shrunk from shedding blood; it is rather to +be regarded as only a second crop from the victorious events in his +preceding campaigns. It is not only bold, rash, and presumptuous +Generals who have sought to complete their work by the great venture +of a decisive battle, but also fortunate ones as well; and we may +rest satisfied with the answer which they have thus given to this vast +question. + +Let us not hear of Generals who conquer without bloodshed. If a bloody +slaughter is a horrible sight, then that is a ground for paying more +respect to War, but not for making the sword we wear blunter and blunter +by degrees from feelings of humanity, until some one steps in with one +that is sharp and lops off the arm from our body. + +We look upon a great battle as a principal decision, but certainly not +as the only one necessary for a War or a campaign. Instances of a great +battle deciding a whole campaign, have been frequent only in modern +times, those which have decided a whole War, belong to the class of rare +exceptions. + +A decision which is brought about by a great battle depends naturally +not on the battle itself, that is on the mass of combatants engaged in +it, and on the intensity of the victory, but also on a number of other +relations between the military forces opposed to each other, and between +the States to which these forces belong. But at the same time that the +principal mass of the force available is brought to the great duel, a +great decision is also brought on, the extent of which may perhaps be +foreseen in many respects, though not in all, and which although not the +only one, still is the FIRST decision, and as such, has an influence +on those which succeed. Therefore a deliberately planned great battle, +according to its relations, is more or less, but always in some degree, +to be regarded as the leading means and central point of the whole +system. The more a General takes the field in the true spirit of War +as well as of every contest, with the feeling and the idea, that is the +conviction, that he must and will conquer, the more he will strive to +throw every weight into the scale in the first battle, hope and strive +to win everything by it. Buonaparte hardly ever entered upon a War +without thinking of conquering his enemy at once in the first battle,(*) +and Frederick the Great, although in a more limited sphere, and with +interests of less magnitude at stake, thought the same when, at the head +of a small Army, he sought to disengage his rear from the Russians or +the Federal Imperial Army. + + (*) This was Moltke's essential idea in his preparations for + the War of 1870. See his secret memorandum issued to G.O.C.s + on May 7. 1870, pointing to a battle on the Upper Saar as + his primary purpose.--EDITOR. + +The decision which is given by the great battle, depends, we have said, +partly on the battle itself, that is on the number of troops engaged, +and partly on the magnitude of the success. + +How the General may increase its importance in respect to the first +point is evident in itself and we shall merely observe that according +to the importance of the great battle, the number of cases which are +decided along with it increases, and that therefore Generals who, +confident in themselves have been lovers of great decisions, have always +managed to make use of the greater part of their troops in it without +neglecting on that account essential points elsewhere. + +As regards the consequences or speaking more correctly the effectiveness +of a victory, that depends chiefly on four points: + +1. On the tactical form adopted as the order of battle. + +2. On the nature of the country. + +3. On the relative proportions of the three arms. + +4. On the relative strength of the two Armies. + +A battle with parallel fronts and without any action against a flank +will seldom yield as great success as one in which the defeated Army has +been turned, or compelled to change front more or less. In a broken or +hilly country the successes are likewise smaller, because the power of +the blow is everywhere less. + +If the cavalry of the vanquished is equal or superior to that of the +victor, then the effects of the pursuit are diminished, and by that +great part of the results of victory are lost. + +Finally it is easy to understand that if superior numbers are on the +side of the conqueror, and he uses his advantage in that respect to +turn the flank of his adversary, or compel him to change front, greater +results will follow than if the conqueror had been weaker in numbers +than the vanquished. The battle of Leuthen may certainly be quoted as a +practical refutation of this principle, but we beg permission for once +to say what we otherwise do not like, NO RULE WITHOUT AN EXCEPTION. + +In all these ways, therefore, the Commander has the means of giving his +battle a decisive character; certainly he thus exposes himself to an +increased amount of danger, but his whole line of action is subject to +that dynamic law of the moral world. + +There is then nothing in War which can be put in comparison with the +great battle in point of importance, AND THE ACME OF STRATEGIC ABILITY +IS DISPLAYED IN THE PROVISION OF MEANS FOR THIS GREAT EVENT, IN THE +SKILFUL DETERMINATION OF PLACE AND TIME, AND DIRECTION OF TROOPS, AND +ITS THE GOOD USE MADE OF SUCCESS. + +But it does not follow from the importance of these things that they +must be of a very complicated and recondite nature; all is here rather +simple, the art of combination by no means great; but there is great +need of quickness in judging of circumstances, need of energy, steady +resolution, a youthful spirit of enterprise--heroic qualities, to which +we shall often have to refer. There is, therefore, but little wanted +here of that which can be taught by books and there is much that, if it +can be taught at all, must come to the General through some other medium +than printer's type. + +The impulse towards a great battle, the voluntary, sure progress to it, +must proceed from a feeling of innate power and a clear sense of the +necessity; in other words, it must proceed from inborn courage and from +perceptions sharpened by contact with the higher interests of life. + +Great examples are the best teachers, but it is certainly a misfortune +if a cloud of theoretical prejudices comes between, for even the sunbeam +is refracted and tinted by the clouds. To destroy such prejudices, which +many a time rise and spread themselves like a miasma, is an imperative +duty of theory, for the misbegotten offspring of human reason can also +be in turn destroyed by pure reason. + + + +CHAPTER XII. STRATEGIC MEANS OF UTILISING VICTORY + +THE more difficult part, viz., that of perfectly preparing the victory, +is a silent service of which the merit belongs to Strategy and yet for +which it is hardly sufficiently commended. It appears brilliant and full +of renown by turning to good account a victory gained. + +What may be the special object of a battle, how it is connected with the +whole system of a War, whither the career of victory may lead according +to the nature of circumstances, where its culminating-point lies--all +these are things which we shall not enter upon until hereafter. But +under any conceivable circumstances the fact holds good, that without a +pursuit no victory can have a great effect, and that, however short the +career of victory may be, it must always lead beyond the first steps in +pursuit; and in order to avoid the frequent repetition of this, we +shall now dwell for a moment on this necessary supplement of victory in +general. + +The pursuit of a beaten Army commences at the moment that Army, giving +up the combat, leaves its position; all previous movements in one +direction and another belong not to that but to the progress of the +battle itself. Usually victory at the moment here described, even if it +is certain, is still as yet small and weak in its proportions, and would +not rank as an event of any great positive advantage if not completed by +a pursuit on the first day. Then it is mostly, as we have before said, +that the trophies which give substance to the victory begin to be +gathered up. Of this pursuit we shall speak in the next place. + +Usually both sides come into action with their physical powers +considerably deteriorated, for the movements immediately preceding have +generally the character of very urgent circumstances. The efforts which +the forging out of a great combat costs, complete the exhaustion; +from this it follows that the victorious party is very little less +disorganised and out of his original formation than the vanquished, +and therefore requires time to reform, to collect stragglers, and issue +fresh ammunition to those who are without. All these things place +the conqueror himself in the state of crisis of which we have already +spoken. If now the defeated force is only a detached portion of +the enemy's Army, or if it has otherwise to expect a considerable +reinforcement, then the conqueror may easily run into the obvious danger +of having to pay dear for his victory, and this consideration, in such +a case, very soon puts an end to pursuit, or at least restricts it +materially. Even when a strong accession of force by the enemy is not +to be feared, the conqueror finds in the above circumstances a powerful +check to the vivacity of his pursuit. There is no reason to fear +that the victory will be snatched away, but adverse combats are still +possible, and may diminish the advantages which up to the present have +been gained. Moreover, at this moment the whole weight of all that is +sensuous in an Army, its wants and weaknesses, are dependent on the will +of the Commander. All the thousands under his command require rest +and refreshment, and long to see a stop put to toil and danger for the +present; only a few, forming an exception, can see and feel beyond the +present moment, it is only amongst this little number that there is +sufficient mental vigour to think, after what is absolutely necessary at +the moment has been done, upon those results which at such a moment only +appear to the rest as mere embellishments of victory--as a luxury of +triumph. But all these thousands have a voice in the council of the +General, for through the various steps of the military hierarchy these +interests of the sensuous creature have their sure conductor into the +heart of the Commander. He himself, through mental and bodily fatigue, +is more or less weakened in his natural activity, and thus it happens +then that, mostly from these causes, purely incidental to human nature, +less is done than might have been done, and that generally what is done +is to be ascribed entirely to the THIRST FOR GLORY, the energy, indeed +also the HARD-HEARTEDNESS of the General-in-Chief. It is only thus we +can explain the hesitating manner in which many Generals follow up a +victory which superior numbers have given them. The first pursuit of the +enemy we limit in general to the extent of the first day, including the +night following the victory. At the end of that period the necessity of +rest ourselves prescribes a halt in any case. + +This first pursuit has different natural degrees. + +The first is, if cavalry alone are employed; in that case it amounts +usually more to alarming and watching than to pressing the enemy in +reality, because the smallest obstacle of ground is generally sufficient +to check the pursuit. Useful as cavalry may be against single bodies of +broken demoralised troops, still when opposed to the bulk of the beaten +Army it becomes again only the auxiliary arm, because the troops in +retreat can employ fresh reserves to cover the movement, and, therefore, +at the next trifling obstacle of ground, by combining all arms they can +make a stand with success. The only exception to this is in the case of +an army in actual flight in a complete state of dissolution. + +The second degree is, if the pursuit is made by a strong advance-guard +composed of all arms, the greater part consisting naturally of cavalry. +Such a pursuit generally drives the enemy as far as the nearest strong +position for his rear-guard, or the next position affording space for +his Army. Neither can usually be found at once, and, therefore, the +pursuit can be carried further; generally, however, it does not extend +beyond the distance of one or at most a couple of leagues, because +otherwise the advance-guard would not feel itself sufficiently +supported. The third and most vigorous degree is when the victorious +Army itself continues to advance as far as its physical powers can +endure. In this case the beaten Army will generally quit such ordinary +positions as a country usually offers on the mere show of an attack, or +of an intention to turn its flank; and the rear-guard will be still less +likely to engage in an obstinate resistance. + +In all three cases the night, if it sets in before the conclusion of +the whole act, usually puts an end to it, and the few instances in which +this has not taken place, and the pursuit has been continued throughout +the night, must be regarded as pursuits in an exceptionally vigorous +form. + +If we reflect that in fighting by night everything must be, more or +less, abandoned to chance, and that at the conclusion of a battle the +regular cohesion and order of things in an army must inevitably be +disturbed, we may easily conceive the reluctance of both Generals to +carrying on their business under such disadvantageous conditions. If a +complete dissolution of the vanquished Army, or a rare superiority +of the victorious Army in military virtue does not ensure success, +everything would in a manner be given up to fate, which can never be for +the interest of any one, even of the most fool-hardy General. As a rule, +therefore, night puts an end to pursuit, even when the battle has only +been decided shortly before darkness sets in. This allows the conquered +either time for rest and to rally immediately, or, if he retreats +during the night it gives him a march in advance. After this break the +conquered is decidedly in a better condition; much of that which had +been thrown into confusion has been brought again into order, ammunition +has been renewed, the whole has been put into a fresh formation. +Whatever further encounter now takes place with the enemy is a new +battle not a continuation of the old, and although it may be far from +promising absolute success, still it is a fresh combat, and not merely a +gathering up of the debris by the victor. + +When, therefore, the conqueror can continue the pursuit itself +throughout the night, if only with a strong advance-guard composed +of all arms of the service, the effect of the victory is immensely +increased, of this the battles of Leuthen and La Belle Alliance(*) are +examples. + + (*) Waterloo. + +The whole action of this pursuit is mainly tactical, and we only dwell +upon it here in order to make plain the difference which through it may +be produced in the effect of a victory. + +This first pursuit, as far as the nearest stopping-point, belongs as a +right to every conqueror, and is hardly in any way connected with his +further plans and combinations. These may considerably diminish the +positive results of a victory gained with the main body of the Army, but +they cannot make this first use of it impossible; at least cases of that +kind, if conceivable at all, must be so uncommon that they should have +no appreciable influence on theory. And here certainly we must say +that the example afforded by modern Wars opens up quite a new field for +energy. In preceding Wars, resting on a narrower basis, and altogether +more circumscribed in their scope, there were many unnecessary +conventional restrictions in various ways, but particularly in this +point. THE CONCEPTION, HONOUR OF VICTORY seemed to Generals so much +by far the chief thing that they thought the less of the complete +destruction of the enemy's military force, as in point of fact that +destruction of force appeared to them only as one of the many means in +War, not by any means as the principal, much less as the only means; so +that they the more readily put the sword in its sheath the moment the +enemy had lowered his. Nothing seemed more natural to them than to +stop the combat as soon as the decision was obtained, and to regard all +further carnage as unnecessary cruelty. Even if this false philosophy +did not determine their resolutions entirely, still it was a point +of view by which representations of the exhaustion of all powers, and +physical impossibility of continuing the struggle, obtained readier +evidence and greater weight. Certainly the sparing one's own instrument +of victory is a vital question if we only possess this one, and foresee +that soon the time may arrive when it will not be sufficient for all +that remains to be done, for every continuation of the offensive must +lead ultimately to complete exhaustion. But this calculation was still +so far false, as the further loss of forces by a continuance of the +pursuit could bear no proportion to that which the enemy must suffer. +That view, therefore, again could only exist because the military forces +were not considered the vital factor. And so we find that in former Wars +real heroes only--such as Charles XII., Marlborough, Eugene, Frederick +the Great--added a vigorous pursuit to their victories when they were +decisive enough, and that other Generals usually contented themselves +with the possession of the field of battle. In modern times the greater +energy infused into the conduct of Wars through the greater importance +of the circumstances from which they have proceeded has thrown down +these conventional barriers; the pursuit has become an all-important +business for the conqueror; trophies have on that account multiplied in +extent, and if there are cases also in modern Warfare in which this has +not been the case, still they belong to the list of exceptions, and are +to be accounted for by peculiar circumstances. + +At Gorschen(*) and Bautzen nothing but the superiority of the allied +cavalry prevented a complete rout, at Gross Beeren and Dennewitz +the ill-will of Bernadotte, the Crown Prince of Sweden; at Laon the +enfeebled personal condition of Bluecher, who was then seventy years +old and at the moment confined to a dark room owing to an injury to his +eyes. + + (*) Gorschen or Lutzen, May 2, 1813; Gross Beeren and + Dennewitz, August 22, 1813; Bautzen. May 22, 1913; Laon, + March 10 1813. + +But Borodino is also an illustration to the point here, and we cannot +resist saying a few more words about it, partly because we do not +consider the circumstances are explained simply by attaching blame to +Buonaparte, partly because it might appear as if this, and with it a +great number of similar cases, belonged to that class which we have +designated as so extremely rare, cases in which the general relations +seize and fetter the General at the very beginning of the battle. French +authors in particular, and great admirers of Buonaparte (Vaudancourt, +Chambray, Se'gur), have blamed him decidedly because he did not drive +the Russian Army completely off the field, and use his last reserves to +scatter it, because then what was only a lost battle would have been +a complete rout. We should be obliged to diverge too far to describe +circumstantially the mutual situation of the two Armies; but this much +is evident, that when Buonaparte passed the Niemen with his Army the +same corps which afterwards fought at Borodino numbered 300,000 men, of +whom now only 120,000 remained, he might therefore well be apprehensive +that he would not have enough left to march upon Moscow, the point on +which everything seemed to depend. The victory which he had just +gained gave him nearly a certainty of taking that capital, for that the +Russians would be in a condition to fight a second battle within eight +days seemed in the highest degree improbable; and in Moscow he hoped to +find peace. No doubt the complete dispersion of the Russian Army +would have made this peace much more certain; but still the first +consideration was to get to Moscow, that is, to get there with a force +with which he should appear dictator over the capital, and through that +over the Empire and the Government. The force which he brought with him +to Moscow was no longer sufficient for that, as shown in the sequel, but +it would have been still less so if, in scattering the Russian Army, he +had scattered his own at the same time. Buonaparte was thoroughly alive +to all this, and in our eyes he stands completely justified. But on that +account this case is still not to be reckoned amongst those in which, +through the general relations, the General is interdicted from following +up his victory, for there never was in his case any question of mere +pursuit. The victory was decided at four o'clock in the afternoon, but +the Russians still occupied the greater part of the field of battle; +they were not yet disposed to give up the ground, and if the attack +had been renewed, they would still have offered a most determined +resistance, which would have undoubtedly ended in their complete defeat, +but would have cost the conqueror much further bloodshed. We must +therefore reckon the Battle of Borodino as amongst battles, like +Bautzen, left unfinished. At Bautzen the vanquished preferred to quit +the field sooner; at Borodino the conqueror preferred to content himself +with a half victory, not because the decision appeared doubtful, but +because he was not rich enough to pay for the whole. + +Returning now to our subject, the deduction from our reflections in +relation to the first stage of pursuit is, that the energy thrown into +it chiefly determines the value of the victory; that this pursuit is a +second act of the victory, in many cases more important also than the +first, and that strategy, whilst here approaching tactics to receive +from it the harvest of success, exercises the first act of her authority +by demanding this completion of the victory. + +But further, the effects of victory are very seldom found to stop with +this first pursuit; now first begins the real career to which victory +lent velocity. This course is conditioned as we have already said, by +other relations of which it is not yet time to speak. But we must here +mention, what there is of a general character in the pursuit in order to +avoid repetition when the subject occurs again. + +In the further stages of pursuit, again, we can distinguish three +degrees: the simple pursuit, a hard pursuit, and a parallel march to +intercept. + +The simple FOLLOWING or PURSUING causes the enemy to continue his +retreat, until he thinks he can risk another battle. It will therefore +in its effect suffice to exhaust the advantages gained, and besides +that, all that the enemy cannot carry with him, sick, wounded, and +disabled from fatigue, quantities of baggage, and carriages of all +kinds, will fall into our hands, but this mere following does not +tend to heighten the disorder in the enemy's Army, an effect which is +produced by the two following causes. + +If, for instance, instead of contenting ourselves with taking up every +day the camp the enemy has just vacated, occupying just as much of the +country as he chooses to abandon, we make our arrangements so as +every day to encroach further, and accordingly with our advance-guard +organised for the purpose, attack his rear-guard every time it attempts +to halt, then such a course will hasten his retreat, and consequently +tend to increase his disorganisation.--This it will principally effect +by the character of continuous flight, which his retreat will thus +assume. Nothing has such a depressing influence on the soldier, as the +sound of the enemy's cannon afresh at the moment when, after a forced +march he seeks some rest; if this excitement is continued from day to +day for some time, it may lead to a complete rout. There lies in it a +constant admission of being obliged to obey the law of the enemy, and of +being unfit for any resistance, and the consciousness of this cannot do +otherwise than weaken the moral of an Army in a high degree. The effect +of pressing the enemy in this way attains a maximum when it drives +the enemy to make night marches. If the conqueror scares away the +discomfited opponent at sunset from a camp which has just been taken +up either for the main body of the Army, or for the rear-guard, the +conquered must either make a night march, or alter his position in +the night, retiring further away, which is much the same thing; the +victorious party can on the other hand pass the night in quiet. + +The arrangement of marches, and the choice of positions depend in this +case also upon so many other things, especially on the supply of the +Army, on strong natural obstacles in the country, on large towns, +&c. &c., that it would be ridiculous pedantry to attempt to show by a +geometrical analysis how the pursuer, being able to impose his laws on +the retreating enemy, can compel him to march at night while he takes +his rest. But nevertheless it is true and practicable that marches +in pursuit may be so planned as to have this tendency, and that the +efficacy of the pursuit is very much enchanced thereby. If this is +seldom attended to in the execution, it is because such a procedure +is more difficult for the pursuing Army, than a regular adherence to +ordinary marches in the daytime. To start in good time in the morning, +to encamp at mid-day, to occupy the rest of the day in providing for the +ordinary wants of the Army, and to use the night for repose, is a +much more convenient method than to regulate one's movements exactly +according to those of the enemy, therefore to determine nothing till the +last moment, to start on the march, sometimes in the morning, sometimes +in the evening, to be always for several hours in the presence of the +enemy, and exchanging cannon shots with him, and keeping up skirmishing +fire, to plan manoeuvres to turn him, in short, to make the whole +outlay of tactical means which such a course renders necessary. All that +naturally bears with a heavy weight on the pursuing Army, and in War, +where there are so many burdens to be borne, men are always inclined +to strip off those which do not seem absolutely necessary. These +observations are true, whether applied to a whole Army or as in the more +usual case, to a strong advance-guard. For the reasons just mentioned, +this second method of pursuit, this continued pressing of the enemy +pursued is rather a rare occurrence; even Buonaparte in his Russian +campaign, 1812, practised it but little, for the reasons here apparent, +that the difficulties and hardships of this campaign, already threatened +his Army with destruction before it could reach its object; on the other +hand, the French in their other campaigns have distinguished themselves +by their energy in this point also. + +Lastly, the third and most effectual form of pursuit is, the parallel +march to the immediate object of the retreat. + +Every defeated Army will naturally have behind it, at a greater or less +distance, some point, the attainment of which is the first purpose in +view, whether it be that failing in this its further retreat might be +compromised, as in the case of a defile, or that it is important for +the point itself to reach it before the enemy, as in the case of a great +city, magazines, &c., or, lastly, that the Army at this point will gain +new powers of defence, such as a strong position, or junction with other +corps. + +Now if the conqueror directs his march on this point by a lateral road, +it is evident how that may quicken the retreat of the beaten Army in a +destructive manner, convert it into hurry, perhaps into flight.(*) The +conquered has only three ways to counteract this: the first is to throw +himself in front of the enemy, in order by an unexpected attack to gain +that probability of success which is lost to him in general from his +position; this plainly supposes an enterprising bold General, and an +excellent Army, beaten but not utterly defeated; therefore, it can only +be employed by a beaten Army in very few cases. + + (*) This point is exceptionally well treated by von + Bernhardi in his "Cavalry in Future Wars." London: Murray, + 1906. + +The second way is hastening the retreat; but this is just what the +conqueror wants, and it easily leads to immoderate efforts on the part +of the troops, by which enormous losses are sustained, in stragglers, +broken guns, and carriages of all kinds. + +The third way is to make a detour, and get round the nearest point of +interception, to march with more ease at a greater distance from the +enemy, and thus to render the haste required less damaging. This +last way is the worst of all, it generally turns out like a new debt +contracted by an insolvent debtor, and leads to greater embarrassment. +There are cases in which this course is advisable; others where there is +nothing else left; also instances in which it has been successful; +but upon the whole it is certainly true that its adoption is usually +influenced less by a clear persuasion of its being the surest way of +attaining the aim than by another inadmissible motive--this motive is +the dread of encountering the enemy. Woe to the Commander who gives in +to this! However much the moral of his Army may have deteriorated, and +however well founded may be his apprehensions of being at a disadvantage +in any conflict with the enemy, the evil will only be made worse by too +anxiously avoiding every possible risk of collision. Buonaparte in 1813 +would never have brought over the Rhine with him the 30,000 or 40,000 +men who remained after the battle of Hanau,(*) if he had avoided that +battle and tried to pass the Rhine at Mannheim or Coblenz. It is just by +means of small combats carefully prepared and executed, and in which the +defeated army being on the defensive, has always the assistance of the +ground--it is just by these that the moral strength of the Army can +first be resuscitated. + + (*) At Hanau (October 30, 1813), the Bavarians some 50,000 + strong threw themselves across the line of Napoleon's + retreat from Leipsic. By a masterly use of its artillery the + French tore the Bavarians asunder and marched on over their + bodies.--EDITOR. + +The beneficial effect of the smallest successes is incredible; but with +most Generals the adoption of this plan implies great self-command. +The other way, that of evading all encounter, appears at first so much +easier, that there is a natural preference for its adoption. It is +therefore usually just this system of evasion which best, promotes the +view of the pursuer, and often ends with the complete downfall of the +pursued; we must, however, recollect here that we are speaking of a +whole Army, not of a single Division, which, having been cut off, +is seeking to join the main Army by making a de'tour; in such a case +circumstances are different, and success is not uncommon. But there is +one condition requisite to the success of this race of two Corps for an +object, which is that a Division of the pursuing army should follow +by the same road which the pursued has taken, in order to pick up +stragglers, and keep up the impression which the presence of the enemy +never fails to make. Bluecher neglected this in his, in other respects +unexceptionable, pursuit after La Belle Alliance. + +Such marches tell upon the pursuer as well as the pursued, and they +are not advisable if the enemy's Army rallies itself upon another +considerable one; if it has a distinguished General at its head, and if +its destruction is not already well prepared. But when this means can be +adopted, it acts also like a great mechanical power. The losses of the +beaten Army from sickness and fatigue are on such a disproportionate +scale, the spirit of the Army is so weakened and lowered by the constant +solicitude about impending ruin, that at last anything like a well +organised stand is out of the question; every day thousands of prisoners +fall into the enemy's hands without striking a blow. In such a season +of complete good fortune, the conqueror need not hesitate about dividing +his forces in order to draw into the vortex of destruction everything +within reach of his Army, to cut off detachments, to take fortresses +unprepared for defence, to occupy large towns, &c. &c. He may do +anything until a new state of things arises, and the more he ventures in +this way the longer will it be before that change will take place. There +is no want of examples of brilliant results from grand decisive +victories, and of great and vigorous pursuits in the wars of Buonaparte. +We need only quote Jena 1806, Ratisbonne 1809, Leipsic 1813, and Belle- +Alliance 1815. + + + +CHAPTER XIII. RETREAT AFTER A LOST BATTLE + +IN a lost battle the power of an Army is broken, the moral to a greater +degree than the physical. A second battle unless fresh favourable +circumstances come into play, would lead to a complete defeat, perhaps, +to destruction. This is a military axiom. According to the usual course +the retreat is continued up to that point where the equilibrium of +forces is restored, either by reinforcements, or by the protection +of strong fortresses, or by great defensive positions afforded by the +country, or by a separation of the enemy's force. The magnitude of the +losses sustained, the extent of the defeat, but still more the +character of the enemy, will bring nearer or put off the instant of this +equilibrium. How many instances may be found of a beaten Army rallied +again at a short distance, without its circumstances having altered in +any way since the battle. The cause of this may be traced to the moral +weakness of the adversary, or to the preponderance gained in the battle +not having been sufficient to make lasting impression. + +To profit by this weakness or mistake of the enemy, not to yield one +inch breadth more than the pressure of circumstances demands, but above +all things, in order to keep up the moral forces to as advantageous a +point as possible, a slow retreat, offering incessant resistance, and +bold courageous counterstrokes, whenever the enemy seeks to gain any +excessive advantages, are absolutely necessary. Retreats of great +Generals and of Armies inured to War have always resembled the retreat +of a wounded lion, such is, undoubtedly, also the best theory. + +It is true that at the moment of quitting a dangerous position we have +often seen trifling formalities observed which caused a waste of +time, and were, therefore, attended with danger, whilst in such cases +everything depends on getting out of the place speedily. Practised +Generals reckon this maxim a very important one. But such cases must not +be confounded with a general retreat after a lost battle. Whoever +then thinks by a few rapid marches to gain a start, and more easily +to recover a firm standing, commits a great error. The first movements +should be as small as possible, and it is a maxim in general not to +suffer ourselves to be dictated to by the enemy. This maxim cannot be +followed without bloody fighting with the enemy at our heels, but the +gain is worth the sacrifice; without it we get into an accelerated pace +which soon turns into a headlong rush, and costs merely in stragglers +more men than rear-guard combats, and besides that extinguishes the last +remnants of the spirit of resistance. + +A strong rear-guard composed of picked troops, commanded by the bravest +General, and supported by the whole Army at critical moments, a careful +utilisation of ground, strong ambuscades wherever the boldness of the +enemy's advance-guard, and the ground, afford opportunity; in short, +the preparation and the system of regular small battles,--these are the +means of following this principle. + +The difficulties of a retreat are naturally greater or less according as +the battle has been fought under more or less favourable circumstances, +and according as it has been more or less obstinately contested. The +battle of Jena and La Belle-Alliance show how impossible anything like +a regular retreat may become, if the last man is used up against a +powerful enemy. + +Now and again it has been suggested(*) to divide for the purpose +of retreating, therefore to retreat in separate divisions or even +eccentrically. Such a separation as is made merely for convenience, and +along with which concentrated action continues possible and is kept +in view, is not what we now refer to; any other kind is extremely +dangerous, contrary to the nature of the thing, and therefore a great +error. Every lost battle is a principle of weakness and disorganisation; +and the first and immediate desideratum is to concentrate, and in +concentration to recover order, courage, and confidence. The idea of +harassing the enemy by separate corps on both flanks at the moment when +he is following up his victory, is a perfect anomaly; a faint-hearted +pedant might be overawed by his enemy in that manner, and for such a +case it may answer; but where we are not sure of this failing in our +opponent it is better let alone. If the strategic relations after +a battle require that we should cover ourselves right and left by +detachments, so much must be done, as from circumstances is unavoidable, +but this fractioning must always be regarded as an evil, and we are +seldom in a state to commence it the day after the battle itself. + + (*) Allusion is here made to the works of Lloyd Bullow and + others. + +If Frederick the Great after the battle of Kollin,(*) and the raising of +the siege of Prague retreated in three columns that was done not out +of choice, but because the position of his forces, and the necessity of +covering Saxony, left him no alternative, Buonaparte after the battle of +Brienne,(**) sent Marmont back to the Aube, whilst he himself passed the +Seine, and turned towards Troyes; but that this did not end in disaster, +was solely owing to the circumstance that the Allies, instead of +pursuing divided their forces in like manner, turning with the one part +(Bluecher) towards the Marne, while with the other (Schwartzenberg), +from fear of being too weak, they advanced with exaggerated caution. + + (*) June 19, 1757. + + (**) January 30, 1814. + + +CHAPTER XIV. NIGHT FIGHTING + +THE manner of conducting a combat at night, and what concerns the +details of its course, is a tactical subject; we only examine it here so +far as in its totality it appears as a special strategic means. + +Fundamentally every night attack is only a more vehement form of +surprise. Now at the first look of the thing such an attack appears +quite pre-eminently advantageous, for we suppose the enemy to be taken +by surprise, the assailant naturally to be prepared for everything which +can happen. What an inequality! Imagination paints to itself a picture +of the most complete confusion on the one side, and on the other side +the assailant only occupied in reaping the fruits of his advantage. +Hence the constant creation of schemes for night attacks by those who +have not to lead them, and have no responsibility, whilst these attacks +seldom take place in reality. + +These ideal schemes are all based on the hypothesis that the assailant +knows the arrangements of the defender because they have been made +and announced beforehand, and could not escape notice in his +reconnaissances, and inquiries; that on the other hand, the measures of +the assailant, being only taken at the moment of execution, cannot be +known to the enemy. But the last of these is not always quite the case, +and still less is the first. If we are not so near the enemy as to have +him completely under our eye, as the Austrians had Frederick the Great +before the battle of Hochkirch (1758), then all that we know of his +position must always be imperfect, as it is obtained by reconnaissances, +patrols, information from prisoners, and spies, sources on which no firm +reliance can be placed because intelligence thus obtained is always +more or less of an old date, and the position of the enemy may have +been altered in the meantime. Moreover, with the tactics and mode of +encampment of former times it was much easier than it is now to examine +the position of the enemy. A line of tents is much easier to distinguish +than a line of huts or a bivouac; and an encampment on a line of front, +fully and regularly drawn out, also easier than one of Divisions formed +in columns, the mode often used at present. We may have the ground on +which a Division bivouacs in that manner completely under our eye, and +yet not be able to arrive at any accurate idea. + +But the position again is not all that we want to know the measures +which the defender may take in the course of the combat are just as +important, and do not by any means consist in mere random shots. These +measures also make night attacks more difficult in modern Wars than +formerly, because they have in these campaigns an advantage over those +already taken. In our combats the position of the defender is more +temporary than definitive, and on that account the defender is better +able to surprise his adversary with unexpected blows, than he could +formerly.(*) + + (*) All these difficulties obviously become increased as the + power of the weapons in use tends to keep the combatants + further apart.--EDITOR. + +Therefore what the assailant knows of the defensive previous to a night +attack, is seldom or never sufficient to supply the want of direct +observation. + +But the defender has on his side another small advantage as well, which +is that he is more at home than the assailant, on the ground which forms +his position, and therefore, like the inhabitant of a room, will find +his way about it in the dark with more ease than a stranger. He knows +better where to find each part of his force, and therefore can more +readily get at it than is the case with his adversary. + +From this it follows, that the assailant in a combat at night feels the +want of his eyes just as much as the defender, and that therefore, only +particular reasons can make a night attack advisable. + +Now these reasons arise mostly in connection with subordinate parts of +an Army, rarely with the Army itself; it follows that a night attack +also as a rule can only take place with secondary combats, and seldom +with great battles. + +We may attack a portion of the enemy's Army with a very superior force, +consequently enveloping it with a view either to take the whole, or to +inflict very severe loss on it by an unequal combat, provided that other +circumstances are in our favour. But such a scheme can never succeed +except by a great surprise, because no fractional part of the enemy's +Army would engage in such an unequal combat, but would retire instead. +But a surprise on an important scale except in rare instances in a very +close country, can only be effected at night. If therefore we wish to +gain such an advantage as this from the faulty disposition of a portion +of the enemy's Army, then we must make use of the night, at all events, +to finish the preliminary part even if the combat itself should not open +till towards daybreak. This is therefore what takes place in all the +little enterprises by night against outposts, and other small bodies, +the main point being invariably through superior numbers, and +getting round his position, to entangle him unexpectedly in such a +disadvantageous combat, that he cannot disengage himself without great +loss. + +The larger the body attacked the more difficult the undertaking, because +a strong force has greater resources within itself to maintain the fight +long enough for help to arrive. + +On that account the whole of the enemy's Army can never in ordinary +cases be the object of such an attack for although it has no assistance +to expect from any quarter outside itself, still, it contains within +itself sufficient means of repelling attacks from several sides +particularly in our day, when every one from the commencement is +prepared for this very usual form of attack. Whether the enemy can +attack us on several sides with success depends generally on conditions +quite different from that of its being done unexpectedly; without +entering here into the nature of these conditions, we confine ourselves +to observing, that with turning an enemy, great results, as well as +great dangers are connected; that therefore, if we set aside special +circumstances, nothing justifies it but a great superiority, just such +as we should use against a fractional part of the enemy's Army. + +But the turning and surrounding a small fraction of the enemy, and +particularly in the darkness of night, is also more practicable for this +reason, that whatever we stake upon it, and however superior the force +used may be, still probably it constitutes only a limited portion of our +Army, and we can sooner stake that than the whole on the risk of a great +venture. Besides, the greater part or perhaps the whole serves as a +support and rallying-point for the portion risked, which again very much +diminishes the danger of the enterprise. + +Not only the risk, but the difficulty of execution as well confines +night enterprises to small bodies. As surprise is the real essence of +them so also stealthy approach is the chief condition of execution: but +this is more easily done with small bodies than with large, and for +the columns of a whole Army is seldom practicable. For this reason such +enterprises are in general only directed against single outposts, +and can only be feasible against greater bodies if they are without +sufficient outposts, like Frederick the Great at Hochkirch.(*) This will +happen seldomer in future to Armies themselves than to minor divisions. + + (*) October 14, 1758. + +In recent times, when War has been carried on with so much more rapidity +and vigour, it has in consequence often happened that Armies have +encamped very close to each other, without having a very strong system +of outposts, because those circumstances have generally occurred just at +the crisis which precedes a great decision. + +But then at such times the readiness for battle on both sides is also +more perfect; on the other hand, in former Wars it was a frequent +practice for armies to take up camps in sight of each other, when they +had no other object but that of mutually holding each other in check, +consequently for a longer period. How often Frederick the Great stood +for weeks so near to the Austrians, that the two might have exchanged +cannon shots with each other. + +But these practices, certainly more favourable to night attacks, have +been discontinued in later days; and armies being now no longer in +regard to subsistence and requirements for encampment, such independent +bodies complete in themselves, find it necessary to keep usually a +day's march between themselves and the enemy. If we now keep in view +especially the night attack of an army, it follows that sufficient +motives for it can seldom occur, and that they fall under one or other +of the following classes. + +1. An unusual degree of carelessness or audacity which very rarely +occurs, and when it does is compensated for by a great superiority in +moral force. + +2. A panic in the enemy's army, or generally such a degree of +superiority in moral force on our side, that this is sufficient to +supply the place of guidance in action. + +3. Cutting through an enemy's army of superior force, which keeps us +enveloped, because in this all depends on surprise, and the object of +merely making a passage by force, allows a much greater concentration of +forces. + +4. Finally, in desperate cases, when our forces have such a +disproportion to the enemy's, that we see no possibility of success, +except through extraordinary daring. + +But in all these cases there is still the condition that the enemy's +army is under our eyes, and protected by no advance-guard. + +As for the rest, most night combats are so conducted as to end with +daylight, so that only the approach and the first attack are made under +cover of darkness, because the assailant in that manner can better +profit by the consequences of the state of confusion into which he +throws his adversary; and combats of this description which do not +commence until daybreak, in which the night therefore is only made use +of to approach, are not to be counted as night combats. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of On War, by Carl von Clausewitz + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON WAR *** + +***** This file should be named 1946.txt or 1946.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/4/1946/ + +Produced by Charles Keller and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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