ARTICLE XIV.

The Command of Armies, and the Chief Control over Operations.

Is it an advantage to a state to have its armies commanded in person by the monarch? Whatever may be the decision on this point, it is certain that if the prince possess the genius of Frederick, Peter the Great, or Napoleon, he will be far from leaving to his generals the honor of performing great actions which he might do himself; for in this he would be untrue to his own glory and to the well-being of the country.

As it is not our mission to discuss the question whether it is more fortunate for a nation to have a warlike or a peace-loving prince, (which is a philanthropic question, foreign to our subject,) we will only state upon this point that, with equal merit and chances in other respects, a sovereign will always have an advantage over a general who is himself not the head of a state. Leaving out of the question that he is responsible only to himself for his bold enterprises, he may do much by the certainty he has of being able to dispose of all the public resources for the attainment of his end. He also possesses the powerful accessory of his favor, of recompenses and punishments; all will be devoted to the execution of his orders, and to insure for his enterprises the greatest success; no jealousy will interfere with the execution of his projects, or at least its exhibition will be rare and in secondary operations. Here are, certainly, sufficient motives to induce a prince to lead his armies, if he possess military capacity and the contest be of a magnitude worthy of him. But if he possess no military ability, if his character be feeble, and he be easily influenced, his presence with the army, instead of producing good results, will open the way for all manner of intrigues. Each one will present his projects to him; and, as he will not have the experience necessary to estimate them according to their merits, he will submit his judgment to that of his intimates. His general, interfered with and opposed in all his enterprises, will be unable to achieve success, even if he have the requisite ability. It may be said that a sovereign might accompany the army and not interfere with his general, but, on the contrary, aid him with all the weight of his influence. In this case his presence might be productive of good results, but it also might lead to great embarrassment. If the army were turned and cut off from its communications, and obliged to extricate itself, sword in hand, what sad results might not follow from the presence of the sovereign at head-quarters!

When a prince feels the necessity of taking the field at the head of his armies, but lacks the necessary self-confidence to assume the supreme direction of affairs, the best course will be that adopted by the Prussian government with Bluecher,—viz.; he should be accompanied by two generals of the best capacity, one of them a man of executive ability, the other a well-instructed staff officer. If this trinity be harmonious, it may yield excellent results, as in the case of the army of Silesia in 1813.

The same system might apply in the case where the sovereign judges it proper to intrust the command to a prince of his house, as has frequently happened since the time of Louis XIV. It has often occurred that the prince possessed only the titular command, and that an adviser, who in reality commanded, was imposed upon him. This was the case with the Duke of Orleans and Marsin at the famous battle of Turin, afterward with the Duke of Burgundy and Vendome at the battle of Audenarde, and, I think, also at Ulm with the Archduke Ferdinand and Mack. This system is deplorable, since no one is responsible for what is done. It is known that at the battle of Turin the Duke of Orleans exhibited more sagacity than Marsin, and it became necessary for the latter to show full secret authority from the king before the prince would yield his judgment and allow the battle to be lost. So at Ulm the archduke displayed more skill and courage than Mack, who was to be his mentor.

If the prince possess the genius and experience of the Archduke Charles, he should be invested with the untrammeled command, and be allowed full selection of his instruments. If he have not yet acquired the same titles to command, he may then be provided with an educated general of the staff, and another general distinguished for his talent in execution; but in no case will it be wise to invest either of these counselors with more authority than a voice in consultation.

We have already said that if the prince do not conduct his armies in person, his most important duty will be to have the position of commander well filled,—which, unfortunately, is not always done. Without going back to ancient times, it will be sufficient to recall the more modern examples under Louis XIV. and Louis XV. The merit of Prince Eugene was estimated by his deformed figure, and this drove him (the ablest commander of his time) into the ranks of the enemy. After Louvois' death, Tallard, Marsin, and Villeroi filled the places of Turenne, Conde, and Luxembourg, and subsequently Soubise and Clermont succeeded Marshal Saxe. Between the fashionable selections made in the Saloons of the Pompadours and Dubarrys, and Napoleon's preference for mere soldiers, there are many gradations, and the margin is wide enough to afford the least intelligent government means of making rational nominations; but, in all ages, human weaknesses will exercise an influence in one way or another, and artifice will often carry off the prize from modest or timid merit, which awaits a call for its services. But, leaving out of consideration all these influences, it will be profitable to inquire in what respects this choice of a commander will be difficult, even when the executive shall be most anxious to make it a judicious one. In the first place, to make choice of a skillful general requires either that the person who makes the selection shall be a military man, able to form an intelligent opinion, or that he should be guided by the opinions of others, which opens the way to the improper influence of cliques. The embarrassment is certainly less when there is at hand a general already illustrious by many victories; but, outside of the fact that every general is not a great leader because he has gained a battle, (for instance, Jourdan, Scherer, and many others,) it is not always the case that a victorious general is at the disposition of the government. It may well happen that after a long period of peace, there may not be a single general in Europe who has commanded in chief. In this case, it will be difficult to decide whether one general is better than another. Those who have served long in peace will be at the head of their arms or corps, and will have the rank appropriate for this position; but will they always be the most capable of filling it? Moreover, the intercourse of the heads of a government with their subordinates is generally so rare and transient, that it is not astonishing they should experience difficulty in assigning men to their appropriate positions. The judgment of the prince, misled by appearances, may err, and, with the purest intentions, he may well be deceived in his selections.

One of the surest means of escaping this misfortune would seem to be in realizing the beautiful fiction of Fenelon in Telemachus, by finding a faithful, sincere, and generous Philocles, who, standing between the prince and all aspirants for the command, would be able, by means of his more direct relations to the public, to enlighten the monarch in reference to selections of individuals best recommended by their character and abilities. But will this faithful friend never yield to personal affections? Will he be always free from prejudice? Suwaroff was rejected by Potemkin on account of his appearance, and it required all the art of Catherine to secure a regiment for the man who afterward shed so much luster upon the Russian arms.

It has been thought that public opinion is the best guide; but nothing could be more dangerous. It voted Dumouriez to be a Caesar, when he was ignorant of the great operations of war. Would it have placed Bonaparte at the head of the army of Italy, when he was known only by two directors? Still, it must be admitted that, if not infallible, public sentiment is not to be despised, particularly if it survive great crises and the experience of events.

The most essential qualities for a general will always be as follow:—First, A high moral courage, capable of great resolutions; Secondly, A physical courage which takes no account of danger. His scientific or military acquirements are secondary to the above-mentioned characteristics, though if great they will be valuable auxiliaries. It is not necessary that he should be a man of vast erudition. His knowledge may be limited, but it should be thorough, and he should be perfectly grounded in the principles at the base of the art of war. Next in importance come the qualities of his personal character. A man who is gallant, just, firm, upright, capable of esteeming merit in others instead of being jealous of it, and skillful in making this merit conduce to his own glory, will always be a good general, and may even pass for a great man. Unfortunately, the disposition to do justice to merit in others is not the most common quality: mediocre minds are always jealous, and inclined to surround themselves with persons of little ability, fearing the reputation of being led, and not realizing that the nominal commander of an army always receives almost all the glory of its success, even when least entitled to it.

The question has often been discussed, whether it is preferable to assign to the command a general of long experience in service with troops, or an officer of the staff, having generally but little experience in the management of troops. It is beyond question that war is a distinct science of itself, and that it is quite possible to be able to combine operations skillfully without ever having led a regiment against an enemy. Peter the Great, Conde, Frederick, and Napoleon are instances of it. It cannot, then, be denied that an officer from the staff may as well as any other prove to be a great general, but it will not be because he has grown gray in the duties of a quartermaster that he will be capable of the supreme command, but because he has a natural genius for war and possesses the requisite characteristics. So, also, a general from the ranks of the infantry or cavalry may be as capable of conducting a campaign as the most profound tactician. So this question does not admit of a definite answer either in the affirmative or negative, since almost all will depend upon the personal qualities of the individuals; but the following remarks will be useful in leading to a rational conclusion:—

1. A general, selected from the general staff, engineers, or artillery, who has commanded a division or a corps d'armee, will, with equal chances, be superior to one who is familiar with the service of but one arm or special corps.

2. A general from the line, who has made a study of the science of war, will be equally fitted for the command.

3. That the character of the man is above all other requisites in a commander-in-chief.

Finally, He will be a good general in whom are found united the requisite personal characteristics and a thorough knowledge of the principles of the art of war.

The difficulty of always selecting a good general has led to the formation of a good general staff, which being near the general may advise him, and thus exercise a beneficial influence over the operations. A well-instructed general staff is one of the most useful of organizations; but care must be observed to prevent the introduction into it of false principles, as in this case it might prove fatal.

Frederick, when he established the military school of Potsdam, never thought it would lead to the "right shoulder forward" of General Ruchel,[4] and to the teaching that the oblique order is the infallible rule for gaining all battles. How true it is that there is but a step from the sublime to the ridiculous!

Moreover, there ought to exist perfect harmony between the general and his chief of staff; and, if it be true that the latter should be a man of recognized ability, it is also proper to give the general the choice of the men who are to be his advisers. To impose a chief of staff upon a general would be to create anarchy and want of harmony; while to permit him to select a cipher for that position would be still more dangerous; for if he be himself a man of little ability, indebted to favor or fortune for his station, the selection will be of vital importance. The best means to avoid these dangers is to give the general the option of several designated officers, all of undoubted ability.

It has been thought, in succession, in almost all armies, that frequent councils of war, by aiding the commander with their advice, give more weight and effect to the direction of military operations. Doubtless, if the commander were a Soubise, a Clermont, or a Mack, he might well find in a council of war opinions more valuable than his own; the majority of the opinions given might be preferable to his; but what success could be expected from operations conducted by others than those who have originated and arranged them? What must be the result of an operation which is but partially understood by the commander, since it is not his own conception?

I have undergone a pitiable experience as prompter at head-quarters, and no one has a better appreciation of the value of such services than myself; and it is particularly in a council of war that such a part is absurd. The greater the number and the higher the rank of the military officers who compose the council, the more difficult will it be to accomplish the triumph of truth and reason, however small be the amount of dissent.

What would have been the action of a council of war to which Napoleon proposed the movement of Arcola, the crossing of the Saint-Bernard, the maneuver at Ulm, or that at Gera and Jena? The timid would have regarded them as rash, even to madness, others would have seen a thousand difficulties of execution, and all would have concurred in rejecting them; and if, on the contrary, they had been adopted, and had been executed by any one but Napoleon, would they not certainly have proved failures?

In my opinion, councils of war are a deplorable resource, and can be useful only when concurring in opinion with the commander, in which case they may give him more confidence in his own judgment, and, in addition, may assure him that his lieutenants, being of his opinion, will use every means to insure the success of the movement. This is the only advantage of a council of war, which, moreover, should be simply consultative and have no further authority; but if, instead of this harmony, there should be difference of opinion, it can only produce unfortunate results.

Accordingly, I think it safe to conclude that the best means of organizing the command of an army, in default of a general approved by experience, is—

1st. To give the command to a man of tried bravery, bold in the fight, and of unshaken firmness in danger.

2d. To assign, as his chief of staff, a man of high ability, of open and faithful character, between whom and the commander there may be perfect harmony. The victor will gain so much glory that he can spare some to the friend who has contributed to his success. In this way Bluecher, aided by Gneisenau and Muffling, gained glory which probably he would not have been able to do of himself. It is true that this double command is more objectionable than an undivided one when a state has a Napoleon, a Frederick, or a Suwaroff to fill it; but when there is no great general to lead the armies it is certainly the preferable system.

Before leaving this important branch of the subject, another means of influencing military operations—viz.: that of a council of war at the seat of government—deserves notice. Louvois for a long time directed from Paris the armies of Louis XIV., and with success. Carnot, also, from Paris directed the armies of the Republic: in 1793 he did well, and saved France; in 1794 his action was at first very unfortunate, but he repaired his faults afterward by chance; in 1796 he was completely at fault. It is to be observed, however, that both Louvois and Carnot individually controlled the armies, and that there was no council of war. The Aulic council, sitting in Vienna, was often intrusted with the duty of directing the operations of the armies; and there has never been but one opinion in Europe as to its fatal influence. Whether this opinion is right or wrong, the Austrian generals alone are able to decide. My own opinion is that the functions of such a body in this connection should be limited to the adoption of a general plan of operations. By this I do not mean a plan which should trace out the campaign in detail, restricting the generals and compelling them to give battle without regard to circumstances, but a plan which should determine the object of the campaign, the nature of the operations, whether offensive or defensive, the material means to be applied to these first enterprises, afterward for the reserves, and finally for the levies which may be necessary if the country be invaded. These points, it is true, should be discussed in a council of both generals and ministers, and to these points should the control of the council be limited; for if it should not only order the general in command to march to Vienna or to Paris, but should also have the presumption to indicate the manner in which he should maneuver to attain this object, the unfortunate general would certainly be beaten, and the whole responsibility of his reverses should fall upon the shoulders of those who, hundreds of miles distant, took upon themselves the duty of directing the army,—a duty so difficult for any one, even upon the scene of operations.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 4: General Ruchel thought at the battle of Jena that he could save the army by giving the command to advance the right shoulder in order to form an oblique line.]



ARTICLE XV.

The Military Spirit of Nations, and the Morale of Armies.

The adoption of the best regulations for the organization of an army would be in vain if the government did not at the same time cultivate a military spirit in its citizens. It may well be the case in London, situated on an island and protected from invasion by its immense fleets, that the title of a rich banker should be preferred to a military decoration; but a continental nation imbued with the sentiments and habits of the tradesmen of London or the bankers of Paris would sooner or later fall a prey to its neighbors. It was to the union of the civic virtues and military spirit fostered by their institutions that the Romans were indebted for their grandeur; and when they lost these virtues, and when, no longer regarding the military service as an honor as well as a duty, they relinquished it to mercenary Goths and Gauls, the fall of the empire became inevitable. It is doubtless true that whatever increases the prosperity of the country should be neither neglected nor despised; it is also necessary to honor the branches of industry which are the first instruments of this prosperity; but they should always be secondary to the great institutions which make up the strength of states in encouraging the cultivation of the manly and heroic virtues. Policy and justice both agree on this point; for, whatever Boileau may say, it is certainly more glorious to confront death in the footsteps of the Caesars than to fatten upon the public miseries by gambling on the vicissitudes of the national credit. Misfortune will certainly fall upon the land where the wealth of the tax-gatherer or the greedy gambler in stocks stands, in public estimation, above the uniform of the brave man who sacrifices his life, health, or fortune to the defense of his country.

The first means of encouraging the military spirit is to invest the army with all possible social and public consideration. The second means is to give the preference to those who have rendered services to the state, in filling any vacancies in the administrative departments of the government, or even to require a certain length of military service as a qualification for certain offices. A comparison of the ancient military institutions of Rome with those of Russia and Prussia, is a subject worthy of serious attention; and it would also be interesting to contrast them with the doctrines of modern theorists, who declare against the employment of officers of the army in other public functions, and who wish for none but rhetoricians in the important offices of administration.[5] It is true that many public employments demand a special course of study; but cannot the soldier, in the abundant leisure of peace, prepare himself for the career he would prefer after having fulfilled his debt to his country in the profession of arms? If these administrative offices were conferred upon officers retired from the army in a grade not lower than that of captain, would it not be a stimulant for officers to attain that rank, and would it not lead them, when in garrisons, to find their recreations elsewhere than in the theaters and public clubs?

It may be possible that this facility of transfer from the military to the civil service would be rather injurious than favorable to a high military spirit, and that to encourage this spirit it would be expedient to place the profession of the soldier above all others. This was the early practice of the Mamelukes and Janissaries. Their soldiers were bought at the age of about seven years, and were educated in the idea that they were to die by their standards. Even the English—so jealous of their rights—contract, in enlisting as soldiers, the obligation for the whole length of their lives, and the Russian, in enlisting for twenty-five years, does what is almost equivalent. In such armies, and in those recruited by voluntary enlistments, perhaps it would not be advisable to tolerate this fusion of military and civil offices; but where the military service is a temporary duty imposed upon the people, the case is different, and the old Roman laws which required a previous military service of ten years in any aspirant for the public employments, seem to be best calculated to preserve the military spirit,—particularly in this age, when the attainment of material comfort and prosperity appears to be the dominant passion of the people.

However this may be, still, in my opinion, under all forms of government, it will be a wise part to honor the military profession, in order to encourage the love of glory and all the warlike virtues, under the penalty of receiving the reproaches of posterity and suffering insult and dependency.

It is not sufficient to foster the military spirit among the people, but, more than that, it is necessary to encourage it in the army. Of what avail would it be if the uniform be honored in the land and it be regarded as a duty to serve in the army, while the military virtues are wanting? The forces would be numerous but without valor.

The enthusiasm of an army and its military spirit are two quite different things, and should not be confounded, although they produce the same effects. The first is the effect of passions more or less of a temporary character,—of a political or religious nature, for instance, or of a great love of country; while the latter, depending upon the skill of the commander and resulting from military institutions, is more permanent and depends less upon circumstances, and should be the object of the attention of every far-seeing government.[6] Courage should be recompensed and honored, the different grades in rank respected, and discipline should exist in the sentiments and convictions rather than in external forms only.

The officers should feel the conviction that resignation, bravery, and faithful attention to duty are virtues without which no glory is possible, no army is respectable, and that firmness amid reverses is more honorable than enthusiasm in success,—since courage alone is necessary to storm a position, while it requires heroism to make a difficult retreat before a victorious and enterprising enemy, always opposing to him a firm and unbroken front. A fine retreat should meet with a reward equal to that given for a great victory.

By inuring armies to labor and fatigue, by keeping them from stagnation in garrison in times of peace, by inculcating their superiority over their enemies, without depreciating too much the latter, by inspiring a love for great exploits,—in a word, by exciting their enthusiasm by every means in harmony with their tone of mind, by honoring courage, punishing weakness, and disgracing cowardice,—we may expect to maintain a high military spirit.

Effeminacy was the chief cause of the ruin of the Roman legions: those formidable soldiers, who had borne the casque, buckler, and cuirass in the times of the Scipios under the burning sun of Africa, found them too heavy in the cool climates of Germany and Gaul; and then the empire was lost.

I have remarked that it is not well to create a too great contempt for the enemy, lest the morale of the soldier should be shaken if he encounter an obstinate resistance. Napoleon at Jena, addressing Lannes' troops, praised the Prussian cavalry, but promised that they would contend in vain against the bayonets of his Egyptians.

The officers and troops must be warned against those sudden panics which often seize the bravest armies when they are not well controlled by discipline, and hence when they do not recognize that in order is the surest hope of safety. It was not from want of courage that one hundred thousand Turks were beaten at Peterwardein by Prince Eugene, and at Kagoul by Romanzoff: it was because, once repulsed in their disorderly charges, every one yielded to his personal feelings, and because they fought individually, but not in masses and in order. An army seized with panic is similarly in a state of demoralization; because when disorder is once introduced all concerted action on the part of individuals becomes impossible, the voice of the officers can no longer be heard, no maneuver for resuming the battle can be executed, and there is no resource but in ignominious flight.

Nations with powerful imaginations are particularly liable to panics; and nothing short of strong institutions and skillful leaders can remedy it. Even the French, whose military virtues when well led have never been questioned, have often performed some quick movements of this kind which were highly ridiculous. We may refer to the unbecoming panic which pervaded the infantry of Marshal Villars after having gained the battle of Friedlingen, in 1704. The same occurred to Napoleon's infantry after the victory of Wagram and when the enemy was in full retreat. A still more extraordinary case was the flight of the 97th semi-brigade, fifteen hundred strong, at the siege of Genoa, before a platoon of cavalry. Two days afterward these same men took Fort Diamond by one of the most vigorous assaults mentioned in modern history.

Still, it would seem to be easy to convince brave men that death comes more quickly and more surely to those who fly in disorder than to those who remain together and present a firm front to the enemy, or who rally promptly when their lines have been for the instant broken.

In this respect the Russian army may be taken as a model by all others. The firmness which it has displayed in all retreats is due in equal degrees to the national character, the natural instincts of the soldiers, and the excellent disciplinary institutions. Indeed, vivacity of imagination is not always the cause of the introduction of disorder: the want of the habit of order often causes it, and the lack of precautions on the part of the generals to maintain this order contributes to it. I have often been astonished at the indifference of most generals on this point. Not only did they not deign to take the slightest precaution to give the proper direction to small detachments or scattered men, and fail to adopt any signals to facilitate the rallying in each division of the fractions which may be scattered in a momentary panic or in an irresistible charge of the enemy, but they were offended that any one should think of proposing such precautions. Still, the most undoubted courage and the most severe discipline will often be powerless to remedy a great disorder, which might be in a great degree obviated by the use of rallying-signals for the different divisions. There are, it is true, cases where all human resources are insufficient for the maintenance of order, as when the physical sufferings of the soldiers have been so great as to render them deaf to all appeals, and when their officers find it impossible to do any thing to organize them,—which was the case in the retreat of 1812. Leaving out these exceptional cases, good habits of order, good logistical precautions for rallying, and good discipline will most frequently be successful, if not in preventing disorder, at least in promptly remedying it.

It is now time to leave this branch, of which I have only desired to trace an outline, and to proceed to the examination of subjects which are purely military.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 5: For instance, in France, instead of excluding all officers from the privilege of the elective franchise, it should be given to all colonels; and the generals should be eligible to the legislature. The most venal deputies will not be those from military life.]

[Footnote 6: It is particularly important that this spirit should pervade the officers and non-commissioned officers: if they be capable, and the nation brave, there need be no fear for the men.]



CHAPTER III.

STRATEGY.

DEFINITION OF STRATEGY AND THE FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLE OF WAR.

The art of war, independently of its political and moral relations, consists of five principal parts, viz.: Strategy, Grand Tactics, Logistics, Tactics of the different arms, and the Art of the Engineer. We will treat of the first three branches, and begin by defining them. In order to do this, we will follow the order of procedure of a general when war is first declared, who commences with the points of the highest importance, as a plan of campaign, and afterward descends to the necessary details. Tactics, on the contrary, begins with details, and ascends to combinations and generalization necessary for the formation and handling of a great army.

We will suppose an army taking the field: the first care of its commander should be to agree with the head of the state upon the character of the war: then he must carefully study the theater of war, and select the most suitable base of operations, taking into consideration the frontiers of the state and those of its allies.

The selection of this base and the proposed aim will determine the zone of operations. The general will take a first objective point: he will select the line of operations leading to this point, either as a temporary or permanent line, giving it the most advantageous direction; namely, that which promises the greatest number of favorable opportunities with the least danger. An army marching on this line of operations will have a front of operations and a strategic front. The temporary positions which the corps d'armee will occupy upon this front of operations, or upon the line of defense, will be strategic positions.

When near its first objective point, and when it begins to meet resistance, the army will either attack the enemy or maneuver to compel him to retreat; and for this end it will adopt one or two strategic lines of maneuvers, which, being temporary, may deviate to a certain degree from the general line of operations, with which they must not be confounded.

To connect the strategic front with the base as the advance is made, lines of supply, depots, &c. will be established.

If the line of operations be long, and there be hostile troops in annoying proximity to it, these bodies may either be attacked and dispersed or be merely observed, or the operations against the enemy may be carried on without reference to them. If the second of these courses be pursued, a double strategic front and large detachments will be the result.

The army being almost within reach of the first objective point, if the enemy oppose him there will be a battle; if indecisive, the fight will be resumed; if the army gains the victory, it will secure its objective point or will advance to attain a second. Should the first objective point be the possession of an important fort, the siege will be commenced. If the army be not strong enough to continue its march, after detaching a sufficient force to maintain the siege, it will take a strategic position to cover it, as did the army of Italy in 1796, which, less than fifty thousand strong, could not pass Mantua to enter Austria, leaving twenty-five thousand enemies within its walls, and having forty thousand more in front on the double line of the Tyrol and Frioul.

If the army be strong enough to make the best use of its victory, or if it have no siege to make, it will operate toward a second and more important objective point.

If this point be distant, it will be necessary to establish an intermediate point of support. One or more secure cities already occupied will form an eventual base: when this cannot be done, a small strategic reserve may be established, which will protect the rear and also the depots by temporary fortifications. When the army crosses large streams, it will construct tetes de pont; and, if the bridges are within walled cities, earth-works will be thrown up to increase the means of defense and to secure the safety of the eventual base or the strategic reserve which may occupy these posts.

Should the battle be lost, the army will retreat toward its base, in order to be reinforced therefrom by detachments of troops, or, what is equivalent, to strengthen itself by the occupation of fortified posts and camps, thus compelling the enemy to halt or to divide his forces.

When winter approaches, the armies will either go into quarters, or the field will be kept by the army which has obtained decisive success and is desirous of profiting to the utmost by its superiority. These winter campaigns are very trying to both armies, but in other respects do not differ from ordinary campaigns, unless it be in demanding increased activity and energy to attain prompt success.

Such is the ordinary course of a war, and as such we will consider it, while discussing combinations which result from these operations.

Strategy embraces the following points, viz.:—

1. The selection of the theater of war, and the discussion of the different combinations of which it admits.

2. The determination of the decisive points in these combinations, and the most favorable direction for operations.

3. The selection and establishment of the fixed base and of the zone of operations.

4. The selection of the objective point, whether offensive or defensive.

5. The strategic fronts, lines of defense, and fronts of operations.

6. The choice of lines of operations leading to the objective point or strategic front.

7. For a given operation, the best strategic line, and the different maneuvers necessary to embrace all possible cases.

8. The eventual bases of operations and the strategic reserves.

9. The marches of armies, considered as maneuvers.

10. The relation between the position of depots and the marches of the army.

11. Fortresses regarded as strategical means, as a refuge for an army, as an obstacle to its progress: the sieges to be made and to be covered.

12. Points for intrenched camps, tetes de pont, &c.

13. The diversions to be made, and the large detachments necessary.

These points are principally of importance in the determination of the first steps of a campaign; but there are other operations of a mixed nature, such as passages of streams, retreats, surprises, disembarkations, convoys, winter quarters, the execution of which belongs to tactics, the conception and arrangement to strategy.

The maneuvering of an army upon the battle-field, and the different formations of troops for attack, constitute Grand Tactics. Logistics is the art of moving armies. It comprises the order and details of marches and camps, and of quartering and supplying troops; in a word, it is the execution of strategical and tactical enterprises.

To repeat. Strategy is the art of making war upon the map, and comprehends the whole theater of operations. Grand Tactics is the art of posting troops upon the battle-field according to the accidents of the ground, of bringing them into action, and the art of fighting upon the ground, in contradistinction to planning upon a map. Its operations may extend over a field of ten or twelve miles in extent. Logistics comprises the means and arrangements which work out the plans of strategy and tactics. Strategy decides where to act; logistics brings the troops to this point; grand tactics decides the manner of execution and the employment of the troops.

It is true that many battles have been decided by strategic movements, and have been, indeed, but a succession of them; but this only occurs in the exceptional case of a dispersed army: for the general case of pitched battles the above definition holds good.

Grand Tactics, in addition to acts of local execution, relates to the following objects:—

1. The choice of positions and defensive lines of battle.

2. The offensive in a defensive battle.

3. The different orders of battle, or the grand maneuvers proper for the attack of the enemy's line.

4. The collision of two armies on the march, or unexpected battles.

5. Surprises of armies in the open field.

6. The arrangements for leading troops into battle.

7. The attack of positions and intrenched camps.

8. Coups de main.

All other operations, such as relate to convoys, foraging-parties, skirmishes of advanced or rear guards, the attack of small posts, and any thing accomplished by a detachment or single division, may be regarded as details of war, and not included in the great operations.

THE FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLE OF WAR.

It is proposed to show that there is one great principle underlying all the operations of war,—a principle which must be followed in all good combinations. It is embraced in the following maxims:—

1. To throw by strategic movements the mass of an army, successively, upon the decisive points of a theater of war, and also upon the communications of the enemy as much as possible without compromising one's own.

2. To maneuver to engage fractions of the hostile army with the bulk of one's forces.

3. On the battle-field, to throw the mass of the forces upon the decisive point, or upon that portion of the hostile line which it is of the first importance to overthrow.

4. To so arrange that these masses shall not only be thrown upon the decisive point, but that they shall engage at the proper times and with energy.

This principle has too much simplicity to escape criticism: one objection is that it is easy to recommend throwing the mass of the forces upon the decisive points, but that the difficulty lies in recognizing those points.

This truth is evident; and it would be little short of the ridiculous to enunciate such a general principle without accompanying it with all necessary explanations for its application upon the field. In Article XIX. these decisive points will be described, and in Articles from XVIII. to XXII. will be discussed their relations to the different combinations. Those students who, having attentively considered what is there stated, still regard the determination of these points as a problem without a solution, may well despair of ever comprehending strategy.

The general theater of operations seldom contains more than three zones,—the right, the left, and the center; and each zone, front of operations, strategic position, and line of defense, as well as each line of battle, has the same subdivisions,—two extremities and the center. A direction upon one of these three will always be suitable for the attainment of the desired end. A direction upon one of the two remaining will be less advantageous; while the third direction will be wholly inapplicable. In considering the object proposed in connection with the positions of the enemy and the geography of the country, it will appear that in every strategic movement or tactical maneuver the question for decision will always be, whether to maneuver to the right, to the left, or directly in front. The selection of one of these three simple alternatives cannot, surely, be considered an enigma. The art of giving the proper direction to the masses is certainly the basis of strategy, although it is not the whole of the art of war. Executive talent, skill, energy, and a quick apprehension of events are necessary to carry out any combinations previously arranged.

We will apply this great principle to the different cases of strategy and tactics, and then show, by the history of twenty celebrated campaigns, that, with few exceptions, the most brilliant successes and the greatest reverses resulted from an adherence to this principle in the one case, and from a neglect of it in the other.



OF STRATEGIC COMBINATIONS.



ARTICLE XVI.

Of the System of Operations.

War once determined upon, the first point to be decided is, whether it shall be offensive or defensive; and we will first explain what is meant by these terms. There are several phases of the offensive: if against a great state, the whole or a large portion of whose territory is attacked, it is an invasion; if a province only, or a line of defense of moderate extent, be assailed, it is the ordinary offensive; finally, if the offensive is but an attack upon the enemy's position, and is confined to a single operation, it is called the taking the initiative. In a moral and political view, the offensive is nearly always advantageous: it carries the war upon foreign soil, saves the assailant's country from devastation, increases his resources and diminishes those of his enemy, elevates the morale of his army, and generally depresses the adversary. It sometimes happens that invasion excites the ardor and energy of the adversary,—particularly when he feels that the independence of his country is threatened.

In a military point of view, the offensive has its good and its bad side. Strategically, an invasion leads to deep lines of operations, which are always dangerous in a hostile country. All the obstacles in the enemy's country, the mountains, rivers, defiles, and forts, are favorable for defense, while the inhabitants and authorities of the country, so far from being the instruments of the invading army, are generally hostile. However, if success be obtained, the enemy is struck in a vital point: he is deprived of his resources and compelled to seek a speedy termination of the contest.

For a single operation, which we have called the taking the initiative, the offensive is almost always advantageous, particularly in strategy. Indeed, if the art of war consists in throwing the masses upon the decisive points, to do this it will be necessary to take the initiative. The attacking party knows what he is doing and what he desires to do; he leads his masses to the point where he desires to strike. He who awaits the attack is everywhere anticipated: the enemy fall with large force upon fractions of his force: he neither knows where his adversary proposes to attack him nor in what manner to repel him.

Tactically, the offensive also possesses advantages, but they are less positive, since, the operations being upon a limited field, the party taking the initiative cannot conceal them from the enemy, who may detect his designs and by the aid of good reserves cause them to fail.

The attacking party labors under the disadvantages arising from the obstacles to be crossed before reaching the enemy's line; on which account the advantages and disadvantages of the tactical offensive are about equally balanced.

Whatever advantages may be expected either politically or strategically from the offensive, it may not be possible to maintain it exclusively throughout the war; for a campaign offensive in the beginning may become defensive before it ends.

A defensive war is not without its advantages, when wisely conducted. It may be passive or active, taking the offensive at times. The passive defense is always pernicious; the active may accomplish great successes. The object of a defensive war being to protect, as long as possible, the country threatened by the enemy, all operations should be designed to retard his progress, to annoy him in his enterprises by multiplying obstacles and difficulties, without, however, compromising one's own army. He who invades does so by reason of some superiority; he will then seek to make the issue as promptly as possible: the defense, on the contrary, desires delay till his adversary is weakened by sending off detachments, by marches, and by the privations and fatigues incident to his progress.

An army is reduced to the defensive only by reverses or by a positive inferiority. It then seeks in the support of forts, and in natural or artificial barriers, the means of restoring equality by multiplying obstacles in the way of the enemy. This plan, when not carried to an extreme, promises many chances of success, but only when the general has the good sense not to make the defense passive: he must not remain in his positions to receive whatever blows may be given by his adversary; he must, on the contrary, redouble his activity, and be constantly upon the alert to improve all opportunities of assailing the weak points of the enemy. This plan of war may be called the defensive-offensive, and may have strategical as well as tactical advantages.. It combines the advantages of both systems; for one who awaits his adversary upon a prepared field, with all his own resources in hand, surrounded by all the advantages of being on his own ground, can with hope of success take the initiative, and is fully able to judge when and where to strike.

During the first three campaigns of the Seven Years' War Frederick was the assailant; in the remaining four his conduct was a perfect model of the defensive-offensive. He was, however, wonderfully aided in this by his adversaries, who allowed him all the time he desired, and many opportunities of taking the offensive with success. Wellington's course was mainly the same in Portugal, Spain, and Belgium, and it was the most suitable in his circumstances. It seems plain that one of the greatest talents of a general is to know how to use (it may be alternately) these two systems, and particularly to be able to take the initiative during the progress of a defensive war.



ARTICLE XVII.

Of the Theater of Operations.

The theater of a war comprises all the territory upon which the parties may assail each other, whether it belong to themselves, their allies, or to weaker states who may be drawn into the war through fear or interest. When the war is also maritime, the theater may embrace both hemispheres,—as has happened in contests between France and England since the time of Louis XIV. The theater of a war may thus be undefined, and must, not be confounded with the theater of operations of one or the other army. The theater of a continental war between France and Austria may be confined to Italy, or may, in addition, comprise Germany if the German States take part therein.

Armies may act in concert or separately: in the first case the whole theater of operations may be considered as a single field upon which strategy directs the armies for the attainment of a definite end. In the second case each army will have its own independent theater of operations. The theater of operations of an army embraces all the territory it may desire to invade and all that it may be necessary to defend. If the army operates independently, it should not attempt any maneuver beyond its own theater, (though it should leave it if it be in danger of being surrounded,) since the supposition is that no concert of action has been arranged with the armies operating on the other fields. If, on the contrary, there be concert of action, the theater of operations of each army taken singly is but a zone of operations of the general field, occupied by the masses for the attainment of a common object.

Independently of its topographical features, each theater upon which one or more armies operate is composed, for both parties, as follows:—

1. Of a fixed base of operations.

2. Of a principal objective point.

3. Of fronts of operations, strategic fronts, and lines of defense.

4. Of zones and lines of operations.

5. Of temporary strategic lines and lines of communications.

6. Of natural or artificial obstacles to be overcome or to oppose to the enemy.

7. Of geographical strategic points, whose occupation is important, either for the offensive or defensive.

8. Of accidental intermediate bases of operations between the objective point and the primary base.

9. Of points of refuge in case of reverse.

For illustration, let us suppose the case of France invading Austria with two or three armies, to be concentrated under one commander, and starting from Mayence, from the Upper Rhine, from Savoy or the Maritime Alps, respectively. The section of country which each of these armies traverses may be considered as a zone of the general field of operations. But if the army of Italy goes but to the Adige without concerted action with the army of the Rhine, then what was before but a zone becomes for that army a theater of operations.

In every case, each theater must have its own base, its own objective point, its zones and lines of operations connecting the objective point with the base, either in the offensive or the defensive.

It has been taught and published that rivers are lines of operations par excellence. Now, as such a line must possess two or three roads to move the army within the range of its operations, and at least one line of retreat, rivers have been called lines of retreat, and even lines of maneuver. It would be much more accurate to say that rivers are excellent lines of supply, and powerful auxiliaries in the establishment of a good line of operations, but never the line itself.

It has also been maintained that, could one create a country expressly to be a good theater of war, converging roads would be avoided, because they facilitate invasion. Every country has its capital, its rich cities for manufactures or trade; and, in the very nature of things, these points must be the centers of converging routes. Could Germany be made a desert, to be molded into a theater of war at the pleasure of an individual, commercial cities and centers of trade would spring up, and the roads would again necessarily converge to these points. Moreover, was not the Archduke Charles enabled to beat Jourdan in 1796 by the use of converging routes? Besides, these routes are more favorable for defense than attack, since two divisions retreating upon these radial lines can effect a junction more quickly than two armies which are pursuing, and they may thus united defeat each of the pursuing masses separately.

Some authors have affirmed that mountainous countries abound in strategic positions; others have maintained that, on the contrary, these points are more rare among the Alps than in the plains, but also that if more rare they are more important and more decisive.

Some authors have represented that high ranges of mountains are, in war, inaccessible barriers. Napoleon, on the contrary, in speaking of the Rhetian Alps, said that "an army could pass wherever a man could put his foot."

Generals no less experienced than himself in mountain-warfare have united with him in this opinion, in admitting the great difficulty of carrying on a defensive war in such localities unless the advantages of partisan and regular warfare can be combined, the first to guard the heights and to harass the enemy, the second to give battle at the decisive points,—the junctions of the large valleys.

These differences of opinion are here noticed merely to show the reader that, so far from the art having reached perfection, there are many points that admit of discussion.

The most important topographical or artificial features which make up the theater of a war will, in succeeding portions of this chapter, be examined as to their strategic value; but here it may be proper to remark that this value will depend much upon the spirit and skill of the general. The great leader who crossed the Saint-Bernard and ordered the passage of the Splugen was far from believing in the impregnability of these chains; but he was also far from thinking that a muddy rivulet and a walled inclosure could change his destiny at Waterloo.



ARTICLE XVIII.

Bases of Operations.

A base of operations is the portion of country from which the army obtains its reinforcements and resources, from which it starts when it takes the offensive, to which it retreats when necessary, and by which it is supported when it takes position to cover the country defensively.

The base of operations is most generally that of supply,—though not necessarily so, at least as far as food is concerned; as, for instance, a French army upon the Elbe might be subsisted from Westphalia or Franconia, but its real base would certainly be upon the Rhine.

When a frontier possesses good natural or artificial barriers, it may be alternately either an excellent base for offensive operations, or a line of defense when the state is invaded. In the latter case it will always be prudent to have a second base in rear; for, although an army in its own country will everywhere find a point of support, there is still a vast difference between those parts of the country without military positions and means, as forts, arsenals, and fortified depots, and those other portions where these military resources are found; and these latter alone can be considered as safe bases of operations. An army may have in succession a number of bases: for instance, a French army in Germany will have the Rhine for its first base; it may have others beyond this, wherever it has allies or permanent lines of defense; but if it is driven back across the Rhine it will have for a base either the Meuse or the Moselle: it might have a third upon the Seine, and a fourth upon the Loire.

These successive bases may not be entirely or nearly parallel to the first. On the contrary, a total change of direction may become necessary. A French army repulsed beyond the Rhine might find a good base on Befort or Besancon, on Mezieres or Sedan, as the Russian army after the evacuation of Moscow left the base on the north and east and established itself upon the line of the Oka and the southern provinces. These lateral bases perpendicular to the front of defense are often decisive in preventing the enemy from penetrating to the heart of the country, or at least in rendering it impossible for him to maintain himself there. A base upon a broad and rapid river, both banks being held by strong works, would be as favorable as could be desired.

The more extended the base, the more difficulty will there be in covering it; but it will also be more difficult to cut the army off from it. A state whose capital is too near the frontier cannot have so favorable a base in a defensive war as one whose capital is more retired.

A base, to be perfect, should have two or three fortified points of sufficient capacity for the establishment of depots of supply. There should be a tete de pont upon each of its unfordable streams.

All are now agreed upon these principles; but upon other points opinions have varied. Some have asserted that a perfect base is one parallel to that of the enemy. My opinion is that bases perpendicular to those of the enemy are more advantageous, particularly such as have two sides almost perpendicular to each other and forming a re-entrant angle, thus affording a double base if required, and which, by giving the control of two sides of the strategic field, assure two lines of retreat widely apart, and facilitate any change of the line of operations which an unforeseen turn of affairs may necessitate.

The quotations which follow are from my treatise on Great Military Operations:—

"The general configuration of the theater of war may also have a great influence upon the direction of the lines of operations, and, consequently, upon the direction of the bases.



"If every theater of war forms a figure presenting four faces more or less regular, one of the armies, at the opening of the campaign, may hold one of these faces,—perhaps two,—while the enemy occupies the other, the fourth being closed by insurmountable obstacles. The different ways of occupying this theater will lead to widely different combinations. To illustrate, we will cite the theater of the French armies in Westphalia from 1757 to 1762, and that of Napoleon in 1806, both of which are represented in Fig. 1, p. 79. In the first case, the side A B was the North Sea, B D the line of the Weser and the base of Duke Ferdinand, C D the line of the Main and the base of the French army, A C the line of the Rhine, also guarded by French troops. The French held two faces, the North Sea being the third; and hence it was only necessary for them, by maneuvers, to gain the side B D to be masters of the four faces, including the base and the communications of the enemy. The French army, starting from its base C D and gaining the front of operations F G H, could cut off the allied army I from its base B D; the latter would be thrown upon the angle A, formed by the lines of the Rhine, the Ems, and the sea, while the army E could communicate with its bases on the Main and Rhine.

"The movement of Napoleon in 1806 on the Saale was similar. He occupied at Jena and Naumburg the line F G H, then marched by Halle and Dessau to force the Prussian army I upon the sea, represented by the side A B. The result is well known.

"The art, then, of selecting lines of operations is to give them such directions as to seize the communications of the enemy without losing one's own. The line F G H, by its extended position, and the bend on the flank of the enemy, always protects the communications with the base C D; and this is exactly the maneuvers of Marengo, Ulm, and Jena.

"When the theater of war does not border upon the sea, it is always bounded by a powerful neutral state, which guards its frontiers and closes one side of the square. This may not be an obstacle insurmountable like the sea; but generally it may be considered as an obstacle upon which it would be dangerous to retreat after a defeat: hence it would be an advantage to force the enemy upon it. The soil of a power which can bring into the field one hundred and fifty or two hundred thousand troops cannot be violated with impunity; and if a defeated army made the attempt, it would be none the less cut off from its base. If the boundary of the theater of war should be the territory of a weak state, it would be absorbed in this theater, and the square would be enlarged till it reached the frontiers of a powerful state, or the sea. The outline of the frontiers may modify the shape of the quadrilateral so as to make it approach the figure of a parallelogram or trapezoid, as in Figure 2. In either case, the advantage of the army which has control of two faces of the figure, and possesses the power of establishing upon them a double base, will be still more decided, since it will be able more easily to cut the enemy off from the shortened side,—as was the case with the Prussian army in 1806, with the side B D J of the parallelogram formed by the lines of the Rhine, the Oder, the North Sea, and the mountainous frontier of Franconia."



The selection of Bohemia as a base in 1813 goes to prove the truth of my opinion; for it was the perpendicularity of this base to that of the French army which enabled the allies to neutralize the immense advantages which the line of the Elbe would otherwise have afforded Napoleon, and turned the advantages of the campaign in their favor. Likewise, in 1812, by establishing their base perpendicularly upon the Oka and Kalouga, the Russians were able to execute their flank march upon Wiazma and Krasnoi.

If any thing further be required to establish these truths, it will only be necessary to consider that, if the base be perpendicular to that of the enemy, the front of operations will be parallel to his line of operations, and that hence it will be easy to attack his communications and line of retreat.

It has been stated that perpendicular bases are particularly favorable in the case of a double frontier, as in the last figures. Critics may object to this that it does not agree with what is elsewhere said in favor of frontiers which are salient toward the enemy, and against double lines of operations with equality of force. (Art. XXI.) The objection is not well founded; for the greatest advantage of a perpendicular base consists in the fact that it forms such a salient, which takes in reverse a portion of the theater of operations. On the other hand, a base with two faces by no means requires that both should be occupied in force: on the contrary, upon one of them it will be sufficient to have some fortified points garrisoned by small bodies, while the great bulk of the force rests upon the other face,—as was done in the campaigns of 1800 and 1806. The angle of nearly ninety degrees formed by the portion of the Rhine from Constance to Basel, and thence to Kehl, gave General Moreau one base parallel and another perpendicular to that of his antagonist. He threw two divisions by his left toward Kehl on the first base, to attract the attention of the enemy to that point, while he moved with nine divisions upon the extremity of the perpendicular face toward Schaffhausen, which carried him in a few days to the gates of Augsburg, the two detached divisions having already rejoined him.

In 1806, Napoleon had also the double base of the Rhine and Main, forming almost a right re-entrant angle. He left Mortier upon the first and parallel one, while with the mass of his forces he gained the extremity of the perpendicular base, and thus intercepted the Prussians at Gera and Naumburg by reaching their line of retreat.

If so many imposing facts prove that bases with two faces, one of them being almost perpendicular to that of the enemy, are the best, it is well to recollect that, in default of such a base, its advantages may be partially supplied by a change of strategic front, as will be seen in Article XX.

Another very important point in reference to the proper direction of bases relates to those established on the sea-coast. These bases may be favorable in some circumstances, but are equally unfavorable in others, as may be readily seen from what precedes. The danger which must always exist of an army being driven to the sea seems so clear, in the ease of the establishment of the base upon it, (which bases can only be favorable to naval powers,) that it is astonishing to hear in our day praises of such a base. Wellington, coming with a fleet to the relief of Spain and Portugal, could not have secured a better base than that of Lisbon, or rather of the peninsula of Torres-Vedras, which covers all the avenues to that capital on the land side. The sea and the Tagus not only protected both flanks, but secured the safety of his only possible line of retreat, which was upon the fleet.

Blinded by the advantages which the intrenched camp of Torres-Vedras secured for the English, and not tracing effects to their real causes, many generals in other respects wise contend that no bases are good except such as rest on the sea and thus afford the army facilities of supply and refuge with both flanks secured. Fascinated by similar notions, Colonel Carion-Nizas asserted that in 1813 Napoleon ought to have posted half of his army in Bohemia and thrown one hundred and fifty thousand men on the mouths of the Elbe toward Hamburg; forgetting that the first precept for a continental army is to establish its base upon the front farthest from the sea, so as to secure the benefit of all its elements of strength, from which it might find itself cut off if the base were established upon the coast.

An insular and naval power acting on the continent would pursue a diametrically opposite course, but resulting from the same principle, viz.: to establish the base upon those points where it can be sustained by all the resources of the country, and at the same time insure a safe retreat.

A state powerful both on land and sea, whose squadrons control the sea adjacent to the theater of operations, might well base an army of forty or fifty thousand men upon the coast, as its retreat by sea and its supplies could be well assured; but to establish a continental army of one hundred and fifty thousand men upon such a base, when opposed by a disciplined and nearly equal force, would be an act of madness.

However, as every maxim has its exceptions, there is a case in which it may be admissible to base a continental army upon the sea: it is, when your adversary is not formidable upon land, and when you, being master of the sea, can supply the army with more facility than in the interior. We rarely see these conditions fulfilled: it was so, however, during the Turkish war of 1828 and 1829. The whole attention of the Russians was given to Varna and Bourghas, while Shumla was merely observed; a plan which they could not have pursued in the presence of a European army (even with the control of the sea) without great danger of ruin.

Despite all that has been said by triflers who pretend to decide upon the fate of empires, this war was, in the main, well conducted. The army covered itself by obtaining the fortresses of Brailoff, Varna, and Silistria, and afterward by preparing a depot at Sizeboli. As soon as its base was well established it moved upon Adrianople, which previously would have been madness. Had the season been a couple of months longer, or had the army not come so great a distance in 1828, the war would have terminated with the first campaign.

Besides permanent bases, which are usually established upon our own frontiers, or in the territory of a faithful ally, there are eventual or temporary bases, which result from the operations in the enemy's country; but, as these are rather temporary points of support, they will, to avoid confusion, be discussed in Article XXIII.



ARTICLE XIX.

Strategic lines and Points, Decisive Points of the Theater of War, and Objective Points of Operations.

Strategic lines and points are of different kinds. Some receive this title simply from their position, which gives them all their importance: these are permanent geographical strategic points. Others have a value from the relations they bear to the positions of the masses of the hostile troops and to the enterprises likely to be directed against them: such are strategic points of maneuver, and are eventual. Finally, there are points which have only a secondary importance, and others whose importance is constant and immense: the latter are called DECISIVE strategic points.

Every point of the theater of war which is of military importance, whether from its position as a center of communication, or from the presence of military establishments or fortifications, is a geographical strategic point.

A distinguished general affirms that such a point would not necessarily be a strategic point, unless situated favorably for a contemplated operation. I think differently; for a strategic point is such essentially and by nature, and, no matter how far distant it may be from the scene of the first enterprises, it may be included in the field by some unforeseen turn of events, and thus acquire its full importance. It would, then, be more accurate to state that all strategic points are not necessarily decisive points.

Lines are strategic either from their geographical position or from their relation to temporary maneuvers. The first class may be subdivided as follows,—viz.: geographic lines which by their permanent importance belong to the decisive points[7] of the theater of war, and those which have value merely because they connect two strategic points.

To prevent confusion, we will elsewhere treat of strategic lines in their relations to maneuvers,—confining ourselves here to what relates to the decisive and objective points of the zone of operations upon which enterprises occur.

Although these are most intimately connected, since every objective point ought necessarily to be one of the decisive points of the theater of war, there is nevertheless a distinction between them; for all decisive points cannot be at the same time the objective of operations. We will, then, define the first, in order to be more easily guided in our selection of the second.

I think the name of decisive strategic point should be given to all those which are capable of exercising a marked influence either upon the result of the campaign or upon a single enterprise. All points whose geographical position and whose natural or artificial advantages favor the attack or defense of a front of operations or of a line of defense are included in this number; and large, well-located fortresses occupy in importance the first rank among them.

The decisive points of a theater of war are of several kinds. The first are the geographic points and lines whose importance is permanent and a consequence of the configuration of the country. For example, take the case of the French in Belgium: whoever is master of the line of the Meuse will have the greatest advantages in taking possession of the country; for his adversary, being outflanked and inclosed between the Meuse and the North Sea, will be exposed to the danger of total ruin if he give battle parallel to that sea.[8] Similarly, the valley of the Danube presents a series of important points which have caused it to be looked upon as the key of Southern Germany.

Those points the possession of which would give the control of the junction of several valleys and of the center of the chief lines of communication in a country are also decisive geographic points. For instance, Lyons is an important strategic point, because it controls the valleys of the Rhone and Saone, and is at the center of communications between France and Italy and between the South and East; but it would not be a decisive point unless well fortified or possessing an extended camp with tetes de pont. Leipsic is most certainly a strategic point, inasmuch as it is at the junction of all the communications of Northern Germany. Were it fortified and did it occupy both banks of the river, it would be almost the key of the country,—if a country has a key, or if this expression means more than a decisive point.

All capitals are strategic points, for the double reason that they are not only centers of communications, but also the seats of power and government.

In mountainous countries there are defiles which are the only routes of exit practicable for an army; and these may be decisive in reference to any enterprise in this country. It is well known how great was the importance of the defile of Bard, protected by a single small fort, in 1800.

The second kind of decisive points are accidental points of maneuver, which result from the positions of the troops on both sides.

When Mack was at Ulm, in 1805, awaiting the approach of the Russian army through Moravia, the decisive point in an attack upon him was Donauwerth or the Lower Lech; for if his adversaries gained it before him he was cut off from his line of retreat, and also from the army intended to support him. On the contrary, Kray, who, in 1800, was in the same position, expected no aid from Bohemia, but rather from the Tyrol and from the army of Melas in Italy: hence the decisive point of attack upon him was not Donauwerth, but on the opposite side, by Schaffhausen, since this would take in reverse his front of operations, expose his line of retreat, cut him off from his supporting army as well as from his base, and force him upon the Main. In the same campaign the first objective point of Napoleon was to fall upon the right of Melas by the Saint-Bernard, and to seize his line of communications: hence Saint-Bernard, Ivrea, and Piacenza were decisive points only by reason of the march of Melas upon Nice.

It may be laid down as a general principle that the decisive points of maneuver are on that flank of the enemy upon which, if his opponent operates, he can more easily cut him off from his base and supporting forces without being exposed to the same danger. The flank opposite to the sea is always to be preferred, because it gives an opportunity of forcing the enemy upon the sea. The only exception to this is in the case of an insular and inferior army, where the attempt, although dangerous, might be made to cut it off from the fleet.

If the enemy's forces are in detachments, or are too much extended, the decisive point is his center; for by piercing that, his forces will be more divided, their weakness increased, and the fractions may be crushed separately.

The decisive point of a battle-field will be determined by,—

1. The features of the ground.

2. The relation of the local features to the ultimate strategic aim.

3. The positions occupied by the respective forces.

These considerations will be discussed in the chapter on battles.

OBJECTIVE POINTS.

There are two classes of objective points,—objective points of maneuver, and geographical objective points. A geographical objective point may be an important fortress, the line of a river, a front of operations which affords good lines of defense or good points of support for ulterior enterprises. Objective points of maneuver, in contradistinction to geographical objectives, derive their importance from, and their positions depend upon, the situation of the hostile masses.

In strategy, the object of the campaign determines the objective point. If this aim be offensive, the point will be the possession of the hostile capital, or that of a province whose loss would compel the enemy to make peace. In a war of invasion the capital is, ordinarily, the objective point. However, the geographical position of the capital, the political relations of the belligerents with their neighbors, and their respective resources, are considerations foreign in themselves to the art of fighting battles, but intimately connected with plans of operations, and may decide whether an army should attempt or not to occupy the hostile capital. If it be concluded not to seize the capital, the objective point might be a part of the front of operations or line of defense where an important fort is situated, the possession of which would render safe the occupation of the neighboring territory. For instance, if France were to invade Italy in a war against Austria, the first objective point would be the line of the Ticino and Po; the second, Mantua and the line of the Adige. In the defensive, the objective point, instead of being that which it is desirable to gain possession of, is that which is to be defended. The capital, being considered the seat of power, becomes the principal objective point of the defense; but there may be other points, as the defense of a first line and of the first base of operations. Thus, for a French army reduced to the defensive behind the Rhine, the first objective would be to prevent the passage of the river; it would endeavor to relieve the forts in Alsace if the enemy succeeded in effecting a passage of the river and in besieging them: the second objective would be to cover the first base of operations upon the Meuse or Moselle,—which might be attained by a lateral defense as well as one in front.

As to the objective points of maneuvers,—that is, those which relate particularly to the destruction or decomposition of the hostile forces,—their importance may be seen by what has already been said. The greatest talent of a general, and the surest hope of success, lie in some degree in the good choice of these points. This was the most conspicuous merit of Napoleon. Rejecting old systems, which were satisfied by the capture of one or two points or with the occupation of an adjoining province, he was convinced that the best means of accomplishing great results was to dislodge and destroy the hostile army,—since states and provinces fall of themselves when there is no organized force to protect them. To detect at a glance the relative advantages presented by the different zones of operations, to concentrate the mass of the forces upon that one which gave the best promise of success, to be indefatigable in ascertaining the approximate position of the enemy, to fall with the rapidity of lightning upon his center if his front was too much extended, or upon that flank by which he could more readily seize his communications, to outflank him, to cut his line, to pursue him to the last, to disperse and destroy his forces,—such was the system followed by Napoleon in his first campaigns. These campaigns proved this system to be one of the very best.

When these maneuvers were applied, in later years, to the long distances and the inhospitable regions of Russia, they were not so successful as in Germany: however, it must be remembered that, if this kind of war is not suitable to all capacities, regions, or circumstances, its chances of success are still very great, and it is based upon principle. Napoleon abused the system; but this does not disprove its real advantages when a proper limit is assigned to its enterprises and they are made in harmony with the respective conditions of the armies and of the adjoining states.

The maxims to be given on these important strategic operations are almost entirely included in what has been said upon decisive points, and in what will be stated in Article XXI. in discussing the choice of lines of operations.

As to the choice of objective points, every thing will generally depend upon the aim of the war and the character which political or other circumstances may give it, and, finally, upon the military facilities of the two parties.

In cases where there are powerful reasons for avoiding all risk, it may be prudent to aim only at the acquisition of partial advantages,—such as the capture of a few towns or the possession of adjacent territory. In other cases, where a party has the means of achieving a great success by incurring great dangers, he may attempt the destruction of the hostile army, as did Napoleon.

The maneuvers of Ulm and Jena cannot be recommended to an army whose only object is the siege of Antwerp. For very different reasons, they could not be recommended to the French army beyond the Niemen, five hundred leagues from its frontiers, because there would be much more to be lost by failure than a general could reasonably hope to gain by success.

There is another class of decisive points to be mentioned, which are determined more from political than from strategic considerations: they play a great part in most coalitions, and influence the operations and plans of cabinets. They may be called political objective points.

Indeed, besides the intimate connection between statesmanship and war in its preliminaries, in most campaigns some military enterprises are undertaken to carry out a political end, sometimes quite important, but often very irrational. They frequently lead to the commission of great errors in strategy. We cite two examples. First, the expedition of the Duke of York to Dunkirk, suggested by old commercial views, gave to the operations of the allies a divergent direction, which caused their failure: hence this objective point was bad in a military view. The expedition of the same prince to Holland in 1799—likewise due to the views of the English cabinet, sustained by the intentions of Austria on Belgium—was not less fatal; for it led to the march of the Archduke Charles from Zurich upon Manheim,—a step quite contrary to the interests of the allied armies at the time it was undertaken. These illustrations prove that political objective points should be subordinate to strategy, at least until after a great success has been attained.

This subject is so extensive and so complicated that it would be absurd to attempt to reduce it to a few rules. The only one which can be given has just been alluded to, and is, that either the political objective points should be selected according to the principles of strategy, or their consideration should be postponed till after the decisive events of the campaign. Applying this rule to the examples just given, it will be seen that it was at Cambray or in the heart of France that Dunkirk should have been conquered in 1793 and Holland delivered in 1799; in other words, by uniting all the strength of the allies for great attempts on the decisive points of the frontiers. Expeditions of this kind are generally included in grand diversions,—to be treated of in a separate article.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 7: I may be reproached with inaccuracy of expression,—since a line cannot be a point, and yet I apply to lines the name of decisive or objective points. It seems almost useless to remark that objective points are not geometric points, but that the name is a form of expression used to designate the object which an army desires to attain.]

[Footnote 8: This only applies to continental armies, and not to the English, who, having their base on Antwerp or Ostend, would have nothing to fear from an occupation of the line of the Meuse.]



ARTICLE XX.

Fronts of Operations, Strategic Fronts, Lines of Defense, and Strategic Positions.

There are some parts of the military science that so closely resemble each other, and are so intimately allied, that they are frequently confounded, although they are decidedly distinct. Such are fronts of operations, strategic fronts, lines of defense, and strategic positions. It is proposed in this article to show the distinction between them and to expose their relations to each other.

FRONTS OF OPERATIONS AND STRATEGIC FRONTS.

When the masses of an army are posted in a zone of operations, they generally occupy strategic positions. The extent of the front occupied toward the enemy is called the strategic front. The portion of the theater of war from which an enemy can probably reach this front in two or three marches is called the front of operations.

The resemblance between these two fronts has caused many military men to confound them, sometimes under one name and sometimes under the other.

Rigorously speaking, however, the strategic front designates that formed by the actual positions occupied by the masses of the army, while the other embraces the space separating the two armies, and extends one or two marches beyond each extremity of the strategic front, and includes the ground upon which the armies will probably come in collision.

When the operations of a campaign are on the eve of commencing, one of the armies will decide to await the attack of the other, and will undertake to prepare a line of defense, which may be either that of the strategic front or more to the rear. Hence the strategic front and line of defense may coincide, as was the case in 1795 and 1796 upon the Rhine, which was then a line of defense for both Austrians and French, and at the same time their strategic front and front of operations. This occasional coincidence of these lines doubtless leads persons to confound them, while they are really very different. An army has not necessarily a line of defense, as, for example, when it invades: when its masses are concentrated in a single position, it has no strategic front, but it is never without a front of operations.

The two following examples will illustrate the difference between the different terms.

At the resumption of hostilities in 1813, Napoleon's front of operations extended at first from Hamburg to Wittenberg; thence it ran along the line of the allies toward Glogau and Breslau, (his right being at Loewenberg,) and followed along the frontier of Bohemia to Dresden. His forces were stationed on this grand front in four masses, whose strategic positions were interior and central and presented three different faces. Subsequently, he retired behind the Elbe. His real line of defense then extended only from Wittenberg to Dresden, with a bend to the rear toward Marienberg, for Hamburg and Magdeburg were beyond the strategic field, and it would have been fatal for him to have extended his operations to these points.

The other example is his position about Mantua in 1796. His front of operations here really extended from the mountains of Bergamo to the Adriatic Sea, while his real line of defense was upon the Adige, between Lake Garda and Legnago: afterward it was upon the Mincio, between Peschiera and Mantua, while his strategic front varied according to his positions.

The front of operations being the space which separates the two armies, and upon which they may fight, is ordinarily parallel to the base of operations. The strategic front will have the same direction, and ought to be perpendicular to the principal line of operations, and to extend far enough on either flank to cover this line well. However, this direction may vary, either on account of projects that are formed, or on account of the attacks of the enemy; and it quite frequently happens that it is necessary to have a front perpendicular to the base and parallel to the original line of operations. Such a change of strategic front is one of the most important of all grand maneuvers, for by this means the control of two faces of the strategic field may be obtained, thus giving the army a position almost as favorable as if it possessed a base with two faces. (See Art. XVIII.)

The strategic front of Napoleon in his march on Eylau illustrates these points. His pivots of operations were at Warsaw and Thorn, which made the Vistula a temporary base: the front became parallel to the Narew, from whence he set out, supported by Sierock, Pultusk, and Ostrolenka, to maneuver by his right and throw the Russians on Elbing and the Baltic. In such cases, if a point of support in the new direction can be obtained, the strategic front gives the advantages referred to above. It ought to be borne in mind in such maneuvers that the army should always be sure of regaining its temporary base if necessary; in other words, that this base should be prolonged behind the strategic front, and should be covered by it. Napoleon, marching from the Narew by Allenstein upon Eylau, had behind his left Thorn, and farther from the front of the army the tete de pont of Praga and Warsaw; so that his communications were safe, while Benningsen, forced to face him and to make his line parallel to the Baltic, might be cut off from his base, and be thrown back upon the mouths of the Vistula. Napoleon executed another very remarkable change of strategic front in his march from Gera upon Jena and Naumburg in 1806. Moreau made another in moving by his right upon Augsburg and Dillingen, fronting the Danube and France, and thereby forcing Kray to evacuate the intrenched camp at Ulm.