INTRODUCTION.
Yielding to the friendly solicitations of a very large number of my comrades of all grades in the navy, I have decided to publish the substance of the general ideas which I have already set forth at the Naval War College.
Furthermore, it seemed to me to be a propitious time to make at least one seaman's voice heard, in the passionate debate now going on about the principles of naval warfare. It is curious, indeed, to note that officers are vainly to be sought among the many spokesmen of the two opposing parties, which are daily strengthened by new recruits and sit in judgment on a technical question of vital concern to the nation.
Unless it can be shown that naval men are incompetent to discuss their own profession, we cannot admit that they alone should remain silent in regard to the principles which ought to govern the constitution of the fleet.
There is much to be done in France in the way of freeing the voices and pens of naval officers from the strict rules which limit them in the great field of discussion of naval affairs. The English government sets us a very good example in this respect, as it always does where naval matters are concerned. At the very moment when, a few years ago, we gave to certain officers, with extreme parsimony and under many restrictions, authority to hold conferences in the name of the Naval League, Admiral Charles Beresford was uttering loud protests and complaints on professional subjects in the journals and at public meetings without any attempt on the part of the Admiralty to interfere in the slightest degree with his freedom of speech.
Such an attitude is justified by the importance which the British Admiralty has always attached to the education of public opinion in regard to all maritime questions, and also by the very clear perception that the ideas expressed by an officer, however eminent, commit no one but himself, and have only the exact value which people are willing to give to them.
There is no doubt that we must attribute to the fixed rule of silence, imposed even now upon bur experts, the unfortunate fact that, in our country alone, first principles are constantly being questioned and the same sterile discussions are periodically renewed.
Our lack of method is the only possible explanation of the fact that the plainest teachings of recent naval wars are interpreted in France differently from anywhere else, and often in a manner contrary to common sense.
And perhaps some of the blame must be placed upon the navy itself, on account of its confused ideas about maritime questions, its mental disunion, and, to sum all, its absolute lack of a body of doctrine in regard to naval warfare.
Only a few years ago it was a common saying that "As many naval officers, so many different opinions on any professional subject." Very recently, relative to a definite establishment of the Torpedo School, two reports, made at short intervals to explain requests for funds, each contained a phrase intended to lay down a principle of fundamental importance. "The School must be on board ship" said one; and the other, a few months later, "The School must be on shore."
This real professional anarchy, which alienated much of the sympathy naturally belonging to the navy, was due to two principal causes: in the first place, naval material has been so radically transformed during the last fifty years that in no other industrial development has there been such an overturning; in the second place, there has been a total absence of instruction in the art of modern war. Actually, we may consider these two causes to be but one. Naval constructions have been altered with feverish haste to keep pace with industrial progress, before the diverse conceptions upon which they were built, out of fashion ere used, could find justification in the essential basis of truth, experience.
From the beginning of modern fleets to Tsushima there had been few or no naval battles worthy of the name. In the study here undertaken, leaving out of account the Russo-Japanese war, we shall be able to develop some special facts, but for our conclusions we shall have to depend at least as much upon logical reasoning and common sense as upon experimental data.
This explains and to some extent justifies the lack of clearness of naval ideas what this was scarcely ten years ago can best be imagined by recalling the mental state of those in command of our army before 1870. The same lack of a theory of war; the same misunderstanding of the exigencies of modern war material and of the management of large forces of men; the same blind and fatal faith in the disentanglement of affairs on the battle field.
To show that I state nothing not rigorously true, it will suffice to recall that but a few years ago our signal books were encumbered with chapters relating to the maneuvers of fleets under sail, when masts had long been discarded. At a date also recent, provision was made at general quarters for calling away boarders, and I am not sure but what exercises are still carried on upon some of our ships to meet this quite impossible contingency.
Our disasters in 1870 have at least taught us the worth of long and patient preparation for war; that, wanting the genius of a Napoleon, the untiring work of a Moltke, based on reason and method and leaving nothing to chance, can lead to victory. The army has profited by the lesson of that terrible year, to the great good of our country: would it really be too much to hope that the navy may obtain as favorable a result without a naval Sedan?
That same Moltke said, towards the end of his life, "Our campaigns and our victories have instructed the French, who like us, have numbers, armament and courage. Our strength mil be in management, in leadership, in one word in the General Staff. This strength France may envy us, she does not possess it."
The creation of the Naval War College was the first step towards a general staff, as necessary in the preparation for naval war as in that for a war on land, and which must be realized some day, when minds are better prepared for it, after several generations of officers have passed through the college.
The most pressing need, as a matter of fact, is to co-ordinate ideas, to examine rigorously all the various opinions current in regard to naval affairs, and to retain the very small number of facts which can be admitted to be true, to serve as the basis of a doctrine which the future and a better established teaching should little by little enrich. Thus we can each contribute to the common work which, growing little by little, will in the near future be so mighty as to overcome all opposition and destroy even the memory of the obscurities of the past.
To make every one perceive as strongly as I do the necessity for this great work of unifying professional ideas in our navy and making them precise, it will be enough to cite a single instance.
At the beginning of 1898, the Superior Naval Council, come together to draw up a shipbuilding program, decided that France needed, besides battleships, a fleet of twelve armored cruisers. Why twelve? The minutes of the meeting are silent as to the reasons for this conclusion. Some months, I might even say some weeks later, at a new meeting of the Council, held for quite another purpose, a member observed that the number of armored cruisers formerly voted seemed to him insufficient, especially in view of the exigencies of our colonial policy, and he proposed to increase the number to twenty-four. After a confused discussion, the Council pronounced for eighteen. No serious argument was advanced for that number any more than for the others.
Although I have not yet touched upon even the most elementary notions of strategy and tactics, which are to be the subjects of my work, it must be apparent that questions of warfare should not be settled by sentiment. And let it here be said, once for all, that there is no question of persons. Men are nothing, ideas alone concern us.
This example shows better than any argument how much we lacked even elementary knowledge of naval affairs only a few years ago. Among the complex problems to which the idea of strategy gives rise, there is none more important than that of the constitution of a fleet, and it goes without saying that every project which takes account neither of the foreign relations of a great nation nor of the material limit fixed by its resources, of necessity rests upon a weak and unstable base.
The end and aim of the War College, as well as of this work, is to build up a military system upon solid and enduring foundations. Surely to attain this result, a lofty aim is necessary; moreover, to repeat a happy phrase used elsewhere, I shall take care to exclude from the subjects treated everything which does not have war for its object. It was in obedience to this precise thought that the founder of the college, M. E. Lockroy, the Minister of 1895-1896, gave it the name of Naval War College. He wished thus to indicate the primary importance which he attached to making the great and fruitful concept of war the ever guiding star of his labors.
Whatever may be the interest attaching to the different problems raised by naval questions, the aggregation of which gives to the naval organization its complex character, I utter only the exact truth when I affirm that those of strategy and of naval tactics are its master key and best express its essence. We can foresee that still far off moment when, by an at last realized general agreement of ideas, all other problems will lend themselves to the solution of this fundamental problem of the military art. It is that which will form the strong roots by which the general growth will be nourished.
And, first, let it be well understood that there can be no question of defining by rules the means of obtaining victory. I fully agree with Commander Rouyer's words, "Victory is not taught, any more than genius is acquired by study."
But, by resting satisfied with this somewhat deceptive truth and far too long we have been content to accept it as an excuse for culpable negligence and detestable lack of energy a people hypnotized into expecting the providential appearance of a saving genius runs the risk of being almost certainly haled to defeat. Genius is not needed to prepare for war; to concentrate the national forces; to provide, in time of peace, arms, ships, personnel, the necessary stores; in a word, to study, without leaving anything to chance, how best to use these resources so that at the hour of danger, and at the point of danger, there shall be the greatest number of favorable chances. If, other things being equal, a great military leader then appears, he will be welcome, but he will be so much the more sure of victory as, in the matter of improvisations, none are demanded of him but those of the battle itself.
The present work has for its object the exposition of the rational general method which should guide us in preparing for war. And, in the first place, what signification should we give to the words strategy and tactics?
If one considers their etymologies, the Greek word ???????? means "military expedition," "campaign"; from ?????????, "ruse de guerre," a French word having the same meaning has been made, "stratageme," and this corresponds to the intuitive idea which we attach to the word strategy. ???????, tactics, is derived from ????????, "regulated," "regular," that which relates to regulated movements, to maneuvers on the field of battle. ???????? ???????, regular lines of battle (Xenophon).
In fact, and without arguing from examples in the animal kingdom, where "ruses de guerre" are the general rule, the ideas of strategy and of tactics are as old as humanity itself.
From the day when two men of unequal muscular strength engaged in a struggle to settle their quarrel, arms were invented. To compensate for his natural inferiority, the weaker naturally seized a weapon, the first thing to hand, a stone, the branch of a tree, and that not being enough to re-establish an equality of force, he has been obliged to surprise the secret weaknesses of his adversary; to endeavor to attack him at the moment most unfavorable for him, in a word, to use stratagem with him.
If, with the constant progress of human industry, the material conditions of strife have changed, causes and principles have remained the same. And, when one examines the facts to discover their philosophy, it appears that the continued improvements in war material throughout the ages have had no other origin and no other motive than the natural desire of the weak to sustain himself against the degrading and odious tyranny of brute strength.
There is no general agreement as to the line of demarcation between the two fundamental divisions of the military art. Where does strategy end, and where begins tactics?
In the 1892-1893 conferences at the Army War College, General Bonnal called attention to the definitions, unlike in words rather than in sense, adopted by military writers of authority in such matters. Napoleon never used the word strategy; sometimes he used the expression grand tactics, sometimes the term higher branches of war.
Clausewitz defined strategy as the use of battle in war; tactics as the use of troops in battle.
For Jomini, strategy includes all that goes on in the theater of war, while tactics is the art of fighting on a field of battle.
According to Moltke, strategy shows the best way leading to the battle; it tells WHERE and WHEN one ought to fight. Tactics teaches how to use the different arms in fighting; it tells HOW one ought to fight.
General Bonnal summed up these different views in the following excellent definitions: Strategy is the art of conceiving; tactics is the science of executing.
If thus far we have considered only definitions relating to the maneuvers of armies, there is hardly need to point out that they apply equally well to the operations of fleets. The terms of strategy and tactics are connected with abstract ideas, true whatever may be the means of execution.
Thus Mahan, in agreement with most military writers, fixed the line of separation between strategy and tactics at the point where the two hostile forces come into contact. But it must be clearly understood that the expression "contact" is not to be taken literally, implying within sight, at short distance, etc. There is really contact between two hostile warlike forces when they know each other's positions with such exactness that their encounter, the final object of the war, is unavoidable.
I shall not linger over discussions of words, and if I have thought it well to recall the various opinions on this subject, it is because it is above all important to thoroughly understand each other.
Adopting from now on language as concise and exact as possible, and remembering that in the main the etymology of the words expresses their sense, the word strategy henceforth will convey the idea of preparation for fighting, and the word tactics that of the execution of the fighting.
I shall begin with the study of strategy: if I have succeeded in well expressing my thoughts, in the matter of definitions, it will at once be apparent that this will form the most important part of the work. The tragic facts of real life, to which we shall refer in detail further on, show us that if the wisest tactical combinations of the battle field can be destroyed or crowned with success in a few hours, if that success is most often dependent upon the spontaneous inspirations of a leader, the strategical preparation for war cannot be improvised. It is the fruit of long and patient meditations, of far sighted measures taken long in advance and requiring slow but unbroken effort through many years.
In fact, strategy touches upon all the problems of war; it is their very soul; its field of action is unlimited, and many volumes could be devoted to it without coming near to exhausting the subject.
Before examining in detail, in a book intended for publication, all the points which strategy bears upon, I quite naturally put to myself the question: How ought one to conceive the strategy of modern fleets? For a reply, I remembered those words of an illustrious philosopher, Taine, in his admirable work on the Origins of Contemporary France: "What is Contemporary France? To reply to this question, it is necessary to know how this France arose, or, what is better, to assist as a spectator at its formation."
It is just so of strategy, as well as of general tactics; these two foundations of the military art being as old as the world, if we wish to understand their actual requirements, it is impossible to leave out of consideration their past, their evolution through the ages, and their adaptation to incessantly changing weapons.
This study is so much the more necessary in France, and particularly in the French navy, because, as we have already seen, in the absence of any continuity of action and of clear sighted direction, our preparation for war has most often been the work of pure chance.
It is to the teachings of history, then, that I shall have recourse in beginning the study of strategy. This method is legitimate, for it is reasonable to suppose that, besides their flashes of genius, the great captains of all times have owed their victories to some general rules, some wise dispositions, which we may well hope to be able to apply to modern wars.
Understand once again that it is not at all my idea to develop a code, consisting of a certain number of precise rules, by the strict application of which upon the field of battle victory may be surely won. My aim is more modest and not less useful; it is to seek in the past some general indications capable of guiding a great leader, other things being equal, to success.
Those who are able to perceive all the profit which may be derived from the study of the history of great wars will have a well founded confidence in the success of this endeavor.
"The value of troops actually depends more upon the value of their chiefs than it used to," writes Von der Goltz. And he adds: "It is not only important to inquire what qualities' a man must have to do great things, as a commander-in-chief, but it is needful also to inquire what the conditions surrounding the army and the military organization must be in order that it may be possible for great war leaders to appear."
To decide what these conditions are, we must go back to the beginnings, to the very sources of military history.
"The principles of war," said Napoleon, "are those which have guided the great captains of whom history has handed down to us the high deeds." And did he not also write, "Knowledge of the higher branches of war is only to be acquired by experience and by the study of the history of the wars and battles of great captains."
Are not the important works of Clausewitz and of Jomini wholly based upon the study of the great Napoleonic drama?
The latter military writer expressed himself as follows: "In great strategic operations, as well as in great battle combinations, victory would result to-day, as it always has resulted, from the application of the principles which led to success the great captains of all times, Alexander or Caesar, Frederick or Napoleon."
Similarly, referring more particularly to naval affairs, Mahan say: "There is a substantial agreement among professional writers that, while many of the conditions of war vary from age to age with the progress of weapons, there are certain teachings in the school of history which remain constant, and being, therefore, of universal application, can be elevated to the rank of general principles."
Without for an instant losing sight of our higher aim, which is and always will be war, we shall seek in history for the ensemble of those general principles of the military art to which the writers cited above allude. After a hasty sketch of the military campaigns of Alexander, Hannibal, Caesar and Napoleon, we shall look for guidance more particularly in maritime wars. Those of the American Revolution and of the first Empire, on account of the great seamen who made them illustrious, will in the first place engage our attention. In modern times, the War of the Rebellion, that of Italy in which Lissa took place, the Chili-Peruvian wars, Admiral Courbet's campaign, the China-Japan conflict, and that between Spain and the United States, will furnish material for very interesting conclusions, because the material used in these successive wars comes much nearer to what is now used than that of older times. Finally, after this rapid view, we shall devote an entire chapter to the Russo-Japanese war, not so much because of its actual events, as on account of the valuable lessons of all sorts that it furnishes. Imperfectly known as it still is, at least in details, its general character is already sufficiently well outlined to enable us to state that very few among the wars of the past can furnish a more ample harvest of lessons to be pondered. And when I speak of profitable lessons, I am not thinking of models to be followed, but much rather of accumulated errors which it would be well for us to be able to avoid committing in our turn.
May we, above all we of the French navy, be able to draw profit from the faults of all sorts committed by Russia! And it is because this war, a veritable lesson in affairs, offers us instruction in strategy and tactics by practical examples, that I give to it a special importance.
To prevent this study of the past from remaining sterile, we must sum up the conclusions at which we gradually arrive, and provide ourselves as it were with a compact vade mecum of the small number of doctrines which the sequence of events shall not have invalidated.
Then will begin our much more difficult task, as well as most interesting; to apply the teachings of the past to actual navies, and especially to the French navy. And I feel so much the importance of this problem that I would not have hesitated to attack it in the first chapter, if I had not been fully convinced that thus treated, and without previous knowledge of derivations, this study would have been too artificial. If the satisfaction felt in it is postponed for a few short chapters, the results will be the better.
But from the moment that the problem of war, thus far abstractly viewed, resolves itself into a concrete case, that of the French navy for example, the mind necessarily reverts to given facts which seem to have a prejudicial character. Common sense and reason indicate that a given nation, a given navy, ought to foresee, to prepare its forces in view of well determined aims. The general problem of war admits only of a series of solutions applicable to well defined concrete cases rather than a single solution good for all possible conflicts. It is evident that, between the extreme cases where the adversaries are respectively an exclusively naval power and another having only land forces, there is room for all the combinations of the preparation for naval war.
Thus is revealed the clear conception of the necessity of a foreign policy which shall be the inspiring cause of strategy, and, actually, the latter, with the operations which it entails, is so closely tied to the former that it is not possible to sketch the least plan of war without a perfect knowledge of political objectives, of ends pursued, of possible alliances, etc.; the field is immense.
And it is precisely because the field is so vast, that strategy must have an initial point of departure and a final end, that there is an imperative moral obligation upon those in power to point them out.
It would be superfluous to insist upon the fact that, being in no way the recipient of such confidences, I shall be unable to indicate with precision the point of departure and that of arrival of French foreign policy. As we must nevertheless reason about concrete examples, we shall be forced to make hypotheses. And in order to give the maximum likelihood to the choice of these examples, I shall devote a chapter to the discussion of the political situation of France, first as related to what we may call her traditional enemies, by reason of the numerous wars or quarrels with them throughout the past, like England and Germany, and then as related to new nations, active and restless, whose desires of all kinds are becoming disquieting, the United States, Japan, etc. Nor shall we forget, among the prime causes of war, the bitter commercial strife in which all civilized nations are now engaged for the conquest of the world's trade, and the pacific appearance of which masks a threatening future.
It is chiefly when thinking of this chapter of the book that I feel my total incompetence; much time, and above all more ability than I possess, would be required to succeed in convincing all Frenchmen, and especially officers, that the two terms, foreign policy and strategy, are bound together by an indestructible link.
However weak and hypothetical may be the ideas that I shall develop, they will at least have the advantage of furnishing a solid ground for discussion, allowing a precise demonstration of how the objectives of a war are connected with the projects of the government. I shall have shown the method, and that will do for the moment.
The first question that suggests itself is evidently that of the tool to be used, that is to say of the fighting fleet which best corresponds to the chosen and definitely adopted policy. It is moreover clear that this problem of the constitution of the fighting fleet, the most important of all which are raised by the study of preparation for war, allows of an infinity of solutions, among which two different nations will chose according to their needs or their special tastes.
We are concerned, then, with a study than which there is none more serious or more profound, and the combined efforts of all the people of a country would not be too much properly to conduct it.
In the first place, and before any other inquiry, it is essential to determine the conditions which should be fulfilled by the different arms which the developments of modern industries place at the seaman's disposal.
On this subject, I recall a remark, which I noted as particularly suggestive, among the numerous questions asked of me, regarding my way of understanding a study of strategy. "You will evidently not have to concern yourself with ordnance," was said to me incidentally. I confess that this proposition quite struck me dumb. Who then would be concerned about ordnance, if not the writer who proposes to elucidate for naval officers the requirements of strategy and of tactics?
The art of preparation for war does not consist solely of putting to work and utilizing existing military resources; one of its branches, and not the least, consists of a complete study of future resources, which measure up to military needs in proportion as we exert ourselves to meet them.
Who then should be qualified to set the problem, if not the office charged with this preparation for war, the one which we at once think of in connection with the idea of strategy and tactics, the General Staff?
I am aware that a certain school, having quite a large number of adherents in France, conceives of the directing military authority as an assemblage of little groups, independent of one another, each charged with a fraction of the military task, but without any unifying principle to co-ordinate the fractions and give life to the whole. If this conception pleases so many minds, enamored of individualism, it is because they see in it an ideal sort of classification, each question thoroughly and separately considered, by a special office, with no other thought than the constant perfecting of each arm or each tool, and then, as it were, methodically catalogued in an always open index.
This bureaucratic idea is not mine, because the cultivation of general ideas, which alone are fruitful and vivifying, is wanting to it; but the question is a higher one. Does it respond exactly and faithfully to the set military problem? And, turning to the constructor, I ask of him: Have you been furnished with the list of requirements which must be satisfied? And going further: "Have you demanded it of the sole directing office, qualified to furnish it? If this has not been done, then the solution of the problem is bad, whatever may be the skill and ingenuity of your work as a specialist."
What I say of ordnance applies equally to torpedoes and the constructor's work.
The only reasonable and logical organization is one which is modeled upon the processes of nature; in the study of living organizations, it is very quickly seen that while they are provided with acting members, they have above all a brain of which the function of command and impulse is so essential that without it equilibrium could not possibly exist and for an harmonious adjustment of forces there would be substituted an impotent anarchy.
The classic experiment in physiology is well known, of the pigeon from which the cerebral hemispheres have been removed; the animal eats, drinks, walks, flies, performs separately each of its separate functions, by reflex action ; there is no doubt that this is not death, but it is very far from life in the whole sense of the word.
It is from the absence of this directing and impelling organ that the navy really suffers, and has suffered for too long a time, and it is because every study of strategy and tactics ought to constantly have war in mind, that the need of a general staff must be here urged.
It is well from time to time to examine our consciences, and in looking back over the last thirty years, we can say with all sincerity it is our very own fault that the French navy has been given a "patchwork" fleet; it is also and always our fault that we have so many ships without military value, without counting all our other mistakes.
The eminent engineers who have charge of the construction of our ships, and whose scientific knowledge fully equals that of their foreign colleagues, would have given us, I am sure, magnificent implements of war, if we had put our problems before them otherwise than in indefinite terms, most frequently contradictory, and in words whose vagueness often concealed lack of sense.
It is full time to break with this school of irresponsibility, and if I have called attention, once more, to the object of a higher teaching of war in the navy, it is to justify the introduction into every program of strategy and tactics the study of weapons.
That this primary role of directing should be vested in our corps is natural, it is the consequence of our profession, which is war; moreover it requires but little reflection to see that while we may very well conceive of a navy without engineers, constructors, mechanicians or paymasters, we cannot imagine one without line officers.
Let us then henceforth resolutely assume all the responsibility; the lesson will bear fruit. If we begin hesitatingly, at least we will safeguard the principle, and we shall be able to blame none but ourselves for the result. Younger and abler men will follow in our path, who will have all the authority necessary, aided by the beneficent effect of the doctrines and the tradition drawn from these patient studies of war.
And there are still other thoughts which have led me to chose the form under which I present my book, so necessary has it seemed to me to show the close connection between the constitution of a projected fleet and the initial military conception.
The study of weapons, of the gun, the torpedo, the ram, etc., not going at all into details of their manufacture or mechanism, is a necessary part of the art of war. It is important to ascertain what conditions these weapons must satisfy with a view to their use in fighting; the improvements which we greatly wish them to have and the circumstances which favor their use. And it is apparent that any study of this kind would be purely speculative if it did not take account of what other nations are doing and particularly of what sort of hostile ships these weapons are to be used against.
These same weapons are carried by the fighting ship, a mobile gun platform, the determination of whose characteristics is one of the most important problems that exists; there are none which, in France, have had such fantastic and various solutions. Its powerful interest, as well as the anxious wish to find the unity which best suits the needs of French naval policy justify the laborious attention which should be given to it.
When we endeavor to solve the particular, much disputed, question of armor, of the protection of the vital parts of the ship and the most reasonable distribution of the weight allotted to that protection, what we must definitely ask military ideas and exigencies to fix for us, and they alone can do so, is the right balance between the conflicting elements of the complex design of the fighting ship. And the same is true as regards speed and other qualities.
However perfect we may suppose a fighting unit, it has no raison d’être, nor even any practical value, unless other similar units exist; hence proceeds the idea of naval forces. A nation's fleets are the realization of its naval policy; and at once there again appears the close bond between the execution of a naval program and the foreign policy of a country.
At every step in the logical developments of strategy we meet new affirmations of the necessity of definite problems, connected together naturally and in sequence, in a perfect harmony of conceptions and thoughts. The political problem, having received a precise and clear solution on the part of the governmental authorities, allows strategy, represented by the General Staff, in its turn to clearly define, without any obscurity of principle, the military problem, with all its data. The constructor can then go on, without groping in the dark, and furnish, without appeal, a practical solution, in the responsibility for which each competent authority will have his definite share. Any other method, and to this day the one I point out has been systematically disregarded in France, can only lead to anarchy and to strategic and tactical disorder.
There is scarcely need to say that I shall have to formulate my own hypotheses, since I am not in any way in possession of the government's thoughts. But that matters little, since the essential is to study a method, and this study involves the examination of concrete cases.
How many squadrons ought France to possess, and what should be their composition? Such are questions which, to be answered otherwise than at haphazard, must be rigorously submitted to the control of military aims. They enter of their very essence into the subject under consideration.
The squadrons once constituted, it is necessary to put them in motion with a view to a naval action, to determine in consequence the conditions of their navigation, and to ascertain if its safety, or the dispositions to be taken in view of the battle which is our final aim, lead to adding to the fleet ships other than fighting ships properly so-called. The very interesting problems of scouting and search must naturally be faced, with care to accept only such facts as have been verified by experience.
Thus far we have disregarded all but purely technical considerations. We have given as it were a unique solution of an abstract problem; but things are very far from happening so in real life, and any naval strategy and tactics would be vain and illusory which assumed that there- are no restrictions upon professional ideas. Financial necessities fix impassable bounds to the total expenditure for naval forces, and those who have the important duty of preparing for war cannot ignore them.
I have only too often heard fine programs set forth, which had the sole fault of depending upon some magic purse, inexhaustible and bottomless, in which the minister of marine must find limitless resources. Strategy would be an easy game were this not absurd and impossible.
Actually, military resources are limited in every country in the world, and the limits are particularly narrow in France, where the expense of a powerful army must be met as well as that of a strong navy.
We have no right whatever then to ignore these special difficulties in our study of war.
And the expenses involved in constituting fleets do not stop with the construction of the fighting ships which form them. Stores of all sorts are necessary to allow the fleets to navigate; still more needed to replenish them, when they return to their home ports, after an operation of war, and to make them ready to set forth again. Arsenals provided with all the latest patterns of material, repair shops, dry docks, etc., must be organized in advance so that at their departure the said squadrons may be perfectly prepared, or to use a vulgar but expressive term, in form, and that, on their return from cruising or from battle, they may be put in good condition as quickly as possible.
The question of supplies for the fleet and of arsenals is thus closely connected with strategy, and it will easily be made apparent what an immense capital, in stores of every kind, ought to be accumulated in time of peace by every maritime nation which does not wish to itself experience such grievous awakenings as those which the improvidence of the Spanish and Russian governments prepared for their unhappy countries in the course of the two recent wars.
However ample the expenditures for this purpose, they are truly economical when compared with the great and unproductive expense which an unfortunate war forces upon a conquered nation. And this is not all! Under penalty of accumulating for an adversary's use all these spoils of war, it is absolutely necessary to shelter and defend them. The study of coast defense derives thence, and forms one of the most important branches of strategy.
To strategy equally belongs the right to fix the conditions which should govern the defense of the coast, the number of points to be defended, the means to employ, etc.
Always in the same spirit, and never losing sight of our guiding light, there is occasion to define the elements of naval defense, in combination with that of the coast, with a view to the necessary unity of action. Torpedo-boats, their especial utilization, their future role, the raison d’être of their employment, furnish ample matter for interesting developments which greatly justify the important place given to these little boats in the scheme of defense.
Submarines, and submarine navigation in general, are a not less important subject.
I shall tell no secrets in saying that during the last sixteen years the French navy has been presented with too many submarines of different designs, veritable laboratory instruments, incapable of any useful war service at sea; it has been too often forgotten that the naval engineer's art, even in its greatest perfection, is not sufficient of itself, and that to give life to his work he needs to be inspired by the military idea.
And it is because of this fundamental error that our flotilla of submarines, outside of certain types of which we possess too few, is quite unsuited to our military needs, and that, if we continue in the same path, we shall risk losing our lead of rival navies.
Having come to the end of the driest, if not the least interesting part of our long expose, we have to take up that which treats of the practical use of military studies and organization, certainly the part most open to prejudice, because we now draw near to our goal.
Advancing step by step, we have organized naval forces, and have provided for their upkeep and defense: the country possesses powerful means of action for any naval enterprise; how shall they be used?
It will at once be apparent, even to those of least competence in naval affairs, that the method of using this power will be quite different with different adversaries, depending upon their military resources and their remoteness from the original scene of war.
There is but a step from this conception to that of different eventualities, of variable combinations, in a word of war plans, or, to use a happy phrase of Von der Goltz, plans of operations, worked out beforehand with a view to each particular case. Understand me well; it is not proposed to elaborate in the silence of the study plans based upon fixed and unvarying conjectures, in the chimerical hope that things will happen exactly so I strive to accomplish something of real and lasting value, and am well aware that in war, as in a duel, attacks and replies are closely dependent upon each other. Consequently, in the field of war, even at the instant of effective movements, all previsions may be upset by some unexpected threat of the enemy. But, strategically speaking, it is indispensable to foresee in advance the principal lines of action, and, in consequence, to elaborate plans.
The German General Staff's opinion on this point is very clearly expressed in its work on the war of 1870:
"It is scarcely possible in the whole course of a campaign to repair errors made at its beginning, when the armies are being concentrated."
We shall see, in our study of the Russo-Japanese war, a striking confirmation of these words, Russia having really carried throughout the whole campaign the crushing burden of strategical errors made at its beginning.
Common sense alone should tell us that in all cases the method of prevision is infinitely superior to that of trusting to chance. With all due respect to the memory of a former French Minister of Marine, it makes one shiver to think that at an anxious time in our recent history, at a moment of such political tension as might at any instant plunge us into war with England, this Minister found no better instructions to give to the commander-in-chief of our principal naval force than these vague words, "Take your whole squadron and cruise off Algiers." We may esteem ourselves fortunate that war was spared to us, for we should certainly have been beaten.
Once more let me say that it is not any individual that I incriminate, and no word of blame will be found in my speech or writings for those who without doubt knew not that they were wrong. But I do protest most forcibly against such methods, and I shall struggle against the school of heedlessness and opportunism with an energy which arises from my profound belief that war is not a subject for improvisation. Should I have only succeeded at the end of this work in making all share in this belief, I shall feel repaid for my efforts by the perception that I have contributed something new and useful to the work of my predecessors.
Even a summary draft of plans of operations is not only instructive, but indispensable, whenever strategy and tactics are discussed. And quite naturally, the application of these projects to special cases, to assumed adversaries, is indicated as the next step in logical sequence.
Such a study is particularly interesting because it permits us to pass in review the resources of every kind which a country has at its disposal, or which it ought to command the facilities which its shores offer as a basis for its operations.
Thus, if considering our own case, the part which our naval forces might be called upon to play in a war with England, with Germany, or with other lesser powers, may be surveyed. The proper disposition of materials and men with a view to the prompt mobilization of the fleets, their concentration and distribution, and finally the proper objectives of the war, form so many subjects for discussion and for lessons of the highest interest.
Such a study is only possible, let us not forget, with concrete examples.
Once again I borrow from Von der Goltz, these profound and true words: "Whoever writes on strategy and tactics ought not in his theories to neglect the point of view of his own people; he should give us a national strategy, a national tactics. Only thus will he render real service to his country."
In these thoughts I have found a new justification for the method which by intuition I had adopted for the development of ideas.
The plan of operations ought to foresee, besides the movements and concentrations of naval forces in the vicinity of arsenals, those which take place afar off. New needs arise; bases of operation, points of support, depots from which stores may be replenished, are necessary to these fleets.
Principal bases, secondary bases, so many means of action without which modern fleets cannot, do, and the proper appreciation of which demands above all a far sighted policy, then stable military institutions ruled by a spirit tenacious and foreseeing. What patient labor, continuous and persevering effort, this part of the preparation for war exacts, under penalty of suffering the bitter and cruel trials of Spain and Russia, may already be imagined.
All the preparations for war are made with a single end in view, battle, and all the elements necessary for its fruitful discussion are in our possession at this point in our study.
Here we enter more particularly into the realm of tactics. Assuming the opposing fleets in contact, that is to say where, having knowledge of each other's positions, they are maneuvering with a view to a meeting, the first thing in order is to inquire what means are employed to move them.
The evolutions or formations, all combined movements in close order on the field of action, the signals used to order those movements, in a word the whole aggregate of diverse precepts so improperly grouped under the false title tactics which should not at all be confounded with the art of engaging or sustaining battle these multitudinous subjects contain inexhaustible mines of useful knowledge.
I will even say that the interest which attaches to all phases of the fighting which is the true goal of war is so intense that it would be much more logical to attack the problem analytically instead of treating it by synthesis, as I have done. As a matter of fact, all conceptions of war, fully to meet its real conditions, must rest upon the deductions drawn from the study of battles and take account of their least incidents. But such a method falls within the province of the General Staff, since, to be fruitful, it needs special knowledge not yet possessed by a great number of the officers for whom this book is intended.
After the battle waged to assure the conquest of what we shall see later on in detail to be the final and highest objective of every naval war, namely, command of the sea, operations of a special kind may take place. I refer to what are generally called combined operations, such as occur in the case of the invasion of a hostile country, and in which the navy's role is to convoy the transports, to assist in the disembarkation of the army and to protect its lines of communication.
There necessarily exist, then, certain conditions which make possible this sort of operations, and certain measures which it is wise to take in order to insure their success.
Have I thus completed the exposition of the program of a complete study of naval strategy and tactics? No, there remains one last subject, and not the least important; for if I have thus far spoken exclusively of the material forces with which preparations for war must reckon, there is still a word to be said of moral forces, at least as essential as the others; history shows the influence upon the fortune of war of the professional instruction of crews and of officers, of their power of endurance and of their faith in a successful issue.
"An important condition," says Von der Goltz again, "is that the morale of the army be good" arid also: "It is essential that the Commander-in-Chief, as well as the troops, shall have the firm will to conquer."
After Tsushima, we may well consider these words prophetic.
Doubtless some will think that I have dwelt too long on the program. I do not think it time wasted, if I have succeeded in opening to view the philosophy of a complete study of naval strategy and tactics, and finally and above all because we now know exactly what we seek and whither we go.
A good program is the skeleton upon which the substance of a book must be molded into shape, and the labor of erecting it first of all is a useful one. In glancing hastily over this vast and complicated program I cannot help thinking of the imperishable rules of the wonderful Discourse on Method, of which a better application than to the work of preparation for war could not be found:
"(1) Never to accept anything as true which we do not clearly perceive to be so; to carefully avoid precipitation and prejudgment, and to include in our judgments nothing more than that which presents itself so clearly and distinctly to our minds that we have no reason to doubt it; (2) to divide the difficult questions which we have to decide into as many parts as may be possible, and as may be required- in order to better solve them; (3) to arrange our thoughts in order, beginning with the simplest objects and those easiest to understand, rising little by little, as by degrees, to the understanding of the most complicated, and even assuming that there is order among those which do not at all naturally flow one from the other; (4) finally to everywhere make enumerations so full and reviews so complete that we may be assured that we have left nothing out of consideration."
As I began by saying, the present work is devoted solely to that part of this vast study which concerns the expose of principles.
CHAPTER I.
THE MILITARY ART OF ALEXANDER, OF HANNIBAL, OF CESAR, OF FREDERICK THE GREAT AND OF NAPOLEON; THE NAVAL STRATEGY OF NAPOLEON.
In taking up the historical study of the great wars of the past, I think it useful to insist upon the important point that my aim is not to teach this history; others more competent than I have done that. I shall suppose it to be wholly known, and shall devote myself solely to pointing out the useful lessons which can be drawn from it from the point of view of the military art.
As soon as this study is undertaken with this objective, it is impossible not to be struck by the fact that at every epoch, whatever the surroundings and the instruments, the same faults have brought on the same disasters, as also identical precautions have always insured success. It is on this account above all that the study of history is fruitful; it is so much so, as I hope to demonstrate, that it does not seem possible that any military organization should fail to take account of it. Rightly has it been said, History repeats itself.
If I begin by examining the campaigns of great warriors, it is because, despite the differences, more apparent than real, between armies and fleets, there is truly but one strategy and its principles are of general application. It is in tactics particularly that the differences are emphasized, since by its very nature tactics is influenced by weapons and their multiple variations.
Two very different methods may be pursued in the application of history to research for the principles of war; either some war may be taken as a type and analyzed in all its details to extract from its successes and its failures a lesson of general application, or, on the contrary, a large number of examples, taken in all ages, may be examined more superficially and having regard only to the general plan.
I have deliberately chosen the second of these methods because of its undoubted superiority from the teacher's point of view. If the first is really more satisfying to a specially cultured mind—and I cannot too strongly advise officers to practice it perseveringly the second is better adapted to teach basic principles from the fact that it furnishes proof of their universality.
ALEXANDER.
The primordial interest of historical documents in the study of war is amply proved by the absorbing interest which they have had for the great soldiers of all ages.
We read in the Life of Alexander by Quintus Curtius: "He invariably carried with him the works of Homer; according to his own words, they were his stores for the campaign; they were the school to which he went for lessons in warfare, and he was often heard to envy the good fortune of Achilles, who had such a herald of his glory." What were the special characteristics of the genius of this great warrior? All historians agree upon this point; he was gifted above all with extraordinary activity and rare determination. ''He himself recognized that he owed success to his activity. When he was asked by what means he had been enabled to conquer Greece he replied By losing no time."
To this same activity Alexander, who feared nothing so much as delays, Quintus Curtius says, owed his unbroken series of victories, won with a handful of men over innumerable hosts of barbarians, and that marvelous conquest of Persia.
We shall find this essential quality of a leader in all the great men who have made their names famous on battle fields; Napoleon, Suffren, and particularly Nelson. It is inseparable from victory.
But whatever may be the value of this moral factor, in studying Alexander's campaigns we shall seek something else; we must find in his conduct the military principle which guided him.
We shall find it in its entirety in an incident of the battle of Arbella. At the height of this hot action, Parmenion sends to warn the king that the Persian general, Magius, is attacking the baggage trains, and he asks orders to go to their protection. Alexander replies: "If we carry off the victory, we shall recover what belongs to us and moreover become masters of all the enemy's possessions. Let him take care then not to separate the least part of his forces from the field of battle, but rather, in a spirit worthy of my father Philip and myself, let him fight valiantly and despise the loss of a little baggage."
Thus, for the Macedonian king, the principal objective, to which all others ought to be subordinated, was the defeat of the hostile army, in one word, battle. He calculated that the surest way to attain the ends of the war is to destroy the main forces of the adversary.
And he carried this conception of war to its extreme logical conclusion when, after a victory won, he pursued the enemy with indefatigable activity to complete his overthrow. After the victory of Issus, he chased Darius and his scattered forces with savage energy, without giving them truce or respite, and only stopped when his own troops were worn out. He rightly estimated that in war there ought not to be any half victories and that it can only cease with the complete crushing of the enemy.
These statements appear like arrant commonplaces, they are so agreeable to common sense, and yet, as we shall see later, our country has suffered its most grievous defeats through having too often forgotten them.
Alexander had, moreover, a profound belief in the superiority of the attack over the defense. In an address to his soldiers before the expedition against the Persians, he expresses himself as follows: "Promptitude has a thousand advantages which pass over to our enemy if we waste time in sluggishness. The first impression is a great point in affairs of this kind, and that is always in favor of the one who attacks…The strongest, in the common view, is he who makes war, not he who awaits it."
In these words lies the germ of a doctrine attaching special value to the offensive, which, after twenty-two centuries, has in nowise become obsolete. Besides the sure moral effect which places the one attacked in a state of undoubted inferiority, the ignorance in which the latter necessarily is as to the progress of the aggressor constitutes a new cause of disadvantage.
Nor was Alexander the only one convinced of the high military value of the offensive. The Persian general Memnon, deeming that it is a truth which no one doubts that it is better to wage war in a foreign country than in one's own, had proposed to invade Macedonia. The plan was rejected, with what result one knows.
Among the qualities from which Alexander drew great advantage, his perfect understanding of the weak points of the enemy must be cited. If he dared to launch himself with a small army against the innumerable troops of the Persians, if he never recoiled from enterprises as bold as the passages of the Granicus, of the defiles of Cilicia and of the Tigris, always in the presence of an enemy much stronger than himself, it is because he understood the latter's customs, his indecision and his inactivity, all factors of which the greatest account should be taken. And this is the more important to us because we shall see later on other great warriors, Nelson for example, plunge into enterprises so audacious as to be almost blameworthy, if the certainty that the adversary would not know how to oppose himself to them had not made them legitimate.
The fine discipline which he instilled into his phalanxes permitted him, moreover, to balance their numerical inferiority by the exceptional quality of his troops. "The men, attentive to the least sign from their leader, have learned to follow their Hags and to preserve their formation. Whatever is ordered, all execute: to face the enemy, to outflank him, to attack one wing or the other, to change the order of battle, are maneuvers as familiar to the soldiers as to the captains. He also counted upon the worth of his soldiers, accustomed to victory, whom courage and experience in arms made invincible."
In these citations are condensed, in reality, several main factors of the important formula of preparation for war.
Trained armies, accustomed to all drills, broken to the ways of their chief, in which the men touch elbows, are half the victory, but such results cannot be attained for the first time on the battlefield; preliminary training is necessary, the patient labor of a time of peace.
Finally these same citations contain valuable indications of the fighting tactics of Alexander the Great: to attack one wing or the other, to outflank the enemy; would one not suppose in hearing these words, that they referred to the operations of poignant reality of which but yesterday Manchuria was the bloody theater?
To maneuver his troops so as to be stronger at one point of the field of battle than these who opposed him at that point, such is the great principle of war which the King of Macedonia constantly applied and to which he owed his persistent triumphs. It is by this same tactics, although with different means, that in the course of history the great generals and also great admirals will carry off with a high hand their victories, despite being in most cases the inferior in point of numbers.
HANNIBAL.
The study of the Punic Wars, a century later, will furnish us with an ample harvest of interesting documents, especially from the naval point of view. Mahan, in his remarkable work, the Influence of Sea Power upon History, has already made it quite clear that Hannibal's final defeat in his titanic war against Rome was solely due to the fact that he was not master of the sea. But the American historian, in my opinion, has treated only one side of the question, and it does not seem superfluous to reconsider it.
As a matter of fact, Hannibal's part, which was during the second Punic War, was only one phase of a deadly strife, which began before him -and lasted till after his time, for the conquest of trade supremacy. For it was truly trade rivalry which brought face to face the great commercial city of Carthage and her rival in the path of expansion, ambitious and insatiable Rome, in a field too narrow to satisfy both at once.
Do we not find in Suetonius this thought: No commerce will be possible between Italy and Africa until Carthage has been destroyed.
In recalling this memory of far off times, we cannot help connecting it with the doings which at this moment are being disclosed to us and which, from identical economic causes, are arming for approaching strife two great European powers. Is it not true once more that history repeats itself?
In a memoir rewarded by the Academic des Inscriptions et Belles-lettres in 1784, and having for subject: The Influence of Naval Strength upon the Power of the Greeks and Romans, the author says:
"But for fear of Carthage, the Romans would perhaps never have had a navy. The colony of a race of seamen, the Carthaginians were scarcely established before they became traders. Commerce gave them birth, commerce supported them and facilitated their growth, commerce alone gave them strength and riches…It was against them that Rome undertook her first naval ventures. After having subdued the Tuscans, the Latins, the Samnites and all the neighboring peoples, she sought further conquests, and Sicily became the object of her desires. Fortune served her useful ambition; I say useful, for without it not only would the Romans never have raised themselves to a height of greatness which astonishes posterity, but the products of their country would not have sufficed for the rapidly increasing number of its inhabitants.
"Among all the scenes of battle which history displays with so much prodigality, there is none more interesting than that of the Punic Wars; at least there is none which has had more influence upon the happiness of the world. There may be seen two powerful nations, whose successes have increased their desires, attempting to make everything yield to their conquering arms. Conquerors and conquered, by turn, these worthy rivals fight for, seize, and take back again the empire of the seas; and this astonishing spectacle becomes still more so when, as leaders in it, are seen the greatest generals that ancient times have known. Nature might be said to have been under the orders of fortune and to have been eager to serve ambition.
"The Romans had the better luck. A Carthaginian galley, cast by a storm upon the shores of Italy, furnished them with a model, and within two months they had one hundred and twenty ships, sailors and rowers.
"Victory suddenly crowns their zealous industry. Scarcely launched upon the sea, they make its masters tremble. Mylae, Ecnomos, the whole of Sicily, are witnesses of their success, and Africa will soon have new rulers."
This quotation will not appear too long to those who consider it well and think of the same causes which, to-day or to-morrow, will bring to blows, in a struggle of life and death, England and Germany, just as they armed, one against the other, more than two centuries ago, England and Holland.
The Punic Wars, then, were born of a reciprocal feeling that Rome and Carthage could not live side by side and that one of them must disappear.
They had Sicily for their first field of operations, and its conquest for their first objective. But Rome was not slow to perceive that she would never be able to take the island from her rival so long as the powerful Carthaginian fleet could, with impunity, traverse the seas, supplying her forces with stores or bringing re-enforcements.
There was only one logical and reasonable solution; since the Punic navy constituted the principal force of the enemy, it was that which must be destroyed. The Roman Senate understood this, and as they had no fleet, caused one to be built, thus showing remarkable intuition in matters of war. We shall see later that, owing to their not having the same good sense in analogous circumstances, the government of the unhappy Russian people drew upon their country the most lamentable disasters.
Happily not so much time was required three centuries before the beginning of our era as would be now to build a navy; at the end of a few months it was fully equipped and ready.
Then began an eager pursuit of the Punic naval forces, ending in their defeat at Ecnomus, and in the Romans' securing for a time the command of the sea. I say for a time, because this command of the sea was a veritable barometer of victory during the first Punic War. In Sicily, as in Sardinia and Corsica, the many battles fought by the armies of the two rival cities were never decisive. No sooner would Rome, having won an advantage, seek rest in fancied security, or allow her fleet to fall into danger, than Carthage would again seize command of the sea and throw new forces into the islands, and vice versa.
The famous Hamilcar, holding thus in check all the legions sent to Sicily to rout him, the Roman Senate once more perceived that the only possible way to conquer him was by cutting him off from his base of operations, Carthage, by regaining command of the sea.
The time was propitious, for, as the historian Polybius says, "The Carthaginians, convinced that the Romans would never think of building up again their navy, in their contemptuous feeling of security, had greatly neglected their own."
The reconstructed Roman fleet soon afterwards met the Carthaginian fleet at Aegates and destroyed it; Hamilcar, cut off from Carthage and starving in Sicily, had to surrender; and his vanquished country to agree to peace with humiliating terms.
These facts, far removed from our times as they are, clearly foreshadow the importance which naval supremacy will assume in later times, and for that reason we could not pass them by unnoticed.
Rome has now to reckon with a redoubtable adversary, Hannibal, one of the greatest captains of all time, of whom Thiers could say, "Napoleon, a greater soldier than Caesar, first by being more of a specialist in the profession of war and then by his boldness, depth of insight and inexhaustible fertility in combinations, has had in these respects but one equal, or, if one may dare to say it, superior, Hannibal."
But the culpable carelessness of Carthage, which allowed the Punic naval power to be endangered, while that of Rome continued to increase, deprived her general of a primary element of strength in the ardent and merciless struggle which now began for the conquest of leadership in the Mediterranean.
Like the great warrior that he was, Hannibal understood that it is necessary to strike at the very heart of a strong nation in order to overthrow it; to conquer the Roman Empire, war must be carried to the doors of Rome herself. But Rome was mistress of the sea, and undisputed mistress, since, after the battle of Aegates, only a memory remained of the powerful Punic navy.
The way by land alone was left for Hannibal to take, and this led him through Spain and Gaul, across the Alps into Italy. Followed that great drama, so well known, which after so many centuries still evokes our admiration, for nothing greater from the military point of view has ever been done. His idea in adopting this strategic plan was to keep in constant touch with his base of operations, Carthage, by land communications wholly, except at the narrow strait of the Pillars of Hercules, into which he did not think the Roman fleets would dare to venture. But this was an idle dream. After his memorable passage of the Alps, his invasion of Italy was an uninterrupted succession of triumphs and loosed against the power of Rome the most terrible storm which ever menaced that republic. The great victories of Trebbia, Trasimenus and Cannae were its three bursts of thunder, which, however, by their very violence, caused an abatement of the storm. Such successes were not purchased without losses felt by the victor; his effective forces, already weakened by the difficult passage of the Alps, diminished at each battle, and to maintain his strength reinforcements from home were necessary.
These could come to him by two routes only; the most direct, by sea, was almost continuously closed to him, the various attempts at revictualing by fleet and convoy during this war having, with very few exceptions, failed, owing to the superior Roman fleet barring the way: by the second, the land way, the communication was slow and difficult, and its only serious trial failed, just at the point of success, with the defeat of Hasdrubal in Cisalpine Gaul. Supposing the junction of the two brothers to have taken place, Hannibal would have doubtless been able to prolong his resistance, but the final result would have been the same.
Energy uses itself up when it is not replenished: but Rome at the critical time found a man who, taking inspiration from the principles of war of Hannibal himself, went on to apply them with means of action which his rival did not possess. Scipio Africanus first drove the Carthaginians from Spain, and thus with the same blow cut the bond, so attenuated, so fragile, so long, and consequently so precarious, which connected the invading army with its base; then, assembling an expeditionary force in Sicily, he threw it into Africa and thus threatening the heart of Carthage consummated at Zama the defeat of Hannibal, whom his country in desperation had recalled, arid the complete overthrow of the Punic power.
Thus it was of no use to a great nation to have in its service one of the greatest geniuses of the human race, so great that by a veritable military paradox he succeeded for fourteen years in maintaining himself on Roman territory and, although weakened and almost stripped of everything, in terrorizing Rome. That nation had not given him the means of conserving the fruits of his victories by assuring a permanent connection with the source of his life, his mother country. She could not but be vanquished. Her rival had but one good general, who copied the military processes of the great leader; but he always had assured communications and the certainty of being kept reinforced. He finally won the victory, and we shall see later on that all similar historical situations have the same denouements. What would not Hannibal have accomplished with the same facilities? Rome would have been conquered and the destinies of the word changed.
The retrospects of the Punic Wars furnish us with other not less valuable lessons: the Roman fleets did not at once attain to the high degree of efficiency which gave them the final victory over those of Carthage. They began with painful experiences and severe trials; their crews were not inured to the hardships of sea life, and repeatedly numerous ships were totally lost on the coast of Sicily as a result of the inexperience of the Roman sailors. So true it is that in no age of the world can a navy be improvised, that being always the work of time.
Among the characteristics of the genius of Hannibal, his perfect understanding of the human heart served him well in all his warlike undertakings. A profound politician, he knew how to use to his own advantage the hatred of the peoples subject to Rome, as well as to acquire over his own troops a prestige and an ascendancy which inflamed them with zeal.
CAESAR.
Caesar himself also showed unwearying activity in war, as well as many other of the qualities of his illustrious predecessors. We read in his Commentaries: That he surprised the Helvetii, "astounded at his sudden approach and to learn that he had crossed the Saone in a single day, which they had scarcely done in ten."
To prevent the Suevi from getting possession of Besangon, he hastened there by forced marches day and night and seized it himself. We also find in him that peculiar aptitude of the warrior to seize every occasion to profit by the weaknesses of an adversary. After his first skirmish with Ariovistus, "Caesar, having asked the prisoners why the king did not accept battle, learned that according to the customs of the Germani the matrons had to decide, by spells and omens, whether or not it was propitious to engage in battle: but they had declared that the Germani could not win if they fought before the new moon." Without loss of time, on the following day he attacked, despite the disproportion of forces, and victory rewarded his boldness.
In our own time there always exist causes of demoralization which, though quite other than those of ancient times, are not less real, as the war in the East proves: they will have a considerable influence in the final fate of future wars, for the strength of an armed nation is made not only of its own force but of the weakness of the one which is opposed to it.
It is in the course of the same action that the fighting tactics commonly used by Caesar are revealed to us: "having observed that the enemy's left was his weak side, he himself attacked with his right wing."
On the other hand, he knew too well the importance of a careful preparation of the soldiers to have sacrificed this indispensable gage of victory: the proof of this is found in the Commentaries, apropos of a battle with the Nervii. "In this difficult position there were two resources: the first was the experience and skill of the soldier who, instructed by previous engagements, knew as well what to do himself as if orders were given to him…Each lieutenant, without asking for orders from the general, himself took the best practicable dispositions."
And this calls attention to the very great value of an armed force which has undergone long and patient training, and in which each important unit thoroughly understands the ideas of the chief. We shall meet with this invaluable element in many circumstances of war, but always on the successful side.
One episode in the course of this memorable Gallic War is of quite special interest to us: I refer to the campaign against the Venetii. These latter had a numerous fleet of strong vessels with lofty bows and equipped with very substantial sails made from skins, built to withstand the stormy weather of the inhospitable coasts of Britain. The Romans had only galleys too slightly built for the heavy seas of that vicinity. And yet Caesar, with his clear understanding of the principles of war, did not hesitate to attack the fleet of the Venetii, because he well knew that this fleet constituted the main force of the enemy and that by destroying it he would take the surest means to bring the war to an end.
As a matter of fact, the towns of the Venetii were built at the ends of promontories, and, surrounded by the sea at high tide or by wide marshes at low tide, were quite inaccessible. Only by the long and laborious construction of works such as dykes could they be approached, and their inhabitants only abandoned them one by one, escaping in their vessels, and thus prolonging their resistance.
If I seem to linger unduly over deeds of twenty centuries ago, it is because similar ones occur in every military enterprise, although the ending is not always quite the same. But, let me hasten to add, that, as we shall see, victorious generals always do as Caesar did.
The aim of every war is to bring one's adversary to his knees completely and as quickly as possible: there is no more certain way of reaching this end than by destroying his principal forces.
Taking advantage of the favorable circumstance of calm weather, which deprived the Venetii's fleet of its natural superiority, Caesar completely defeated it, and that people soon made its submission.
One of the translators of Caesar's Commentaries has well denned his many and remarkable qualities: "He had moreover all the qualities which go to make a good general: prudence, coolness, activity, boldness, a mind fertile in resources, a sure and clear sight which covered the general features of the vastest project and comprehended all its details, a wise restlessness which made him feel THAT HE HAD DONE NOTHING SO LONG AS THERE REMAINED ANYTHING TO DO, a courage to surmount all obstacles, great understanding of men, the art of making himself loved and respected by his soldiers."
I have made this quotation because it includes not only the definition of the great military chief, but also and primarily the formula of the art of war in its broadest sense and for all times. I have purposely underlined one phrase which contains the secret of many historical triumphs; to speak only of Suffren and Nelson, they also never thought their task finished so long as the end which they had fixed for themselves was not attained.
It is opportune to here recall a word of Napoleon's of striking truth: "No great continuous actions," said he, "are the results of chance and fortune. Rarely are great men seen to fail in their enterprises…Look at Alexander, Caesar, Hannibal…they always succeeded. Is it because they were lucky that they thus became great men? No, but because, being great men, they knew how to master fortune. When we study the causes of their success, we are astonished to find that they did everything to obtain it."
The transition from these ancient wars to those of times nearer our own may, without disadvantage, be very brief. Lieut.-Colonel Hennebert has covered the ground very well when, speaking of Hamilcar, father of Hannibal, he expressed himself as follows: "The great Carthaginian understood all the importance of marches, and it may be said that he invented them. Till then only wars of siege and place had been waged, and the singularly timid movements of armies consisted only in queer rotations about one or several places taken as pivots. The shrewd Barca resolutely broke with these slow and monotonous methods. His son Hannibal, who twenty years later surprised the Romans by so many unexpected and rapid movements, was to carry on this revolution in the military art, which Julius Caesar will bring to its climax. These three great men once vanished from the scene, an insurmountable routine will again bring into favor the old methods, which will remain solely in use in Europe until the time of Gustavus Adolphus: then only will Hamilcar and his son Hannibal be remembered, and modern peoples will see the phases of a new revolution develop. At the time of this renaissance, Turennef Conde and Vauban will lay down principles, of which the great Frederick will make the most successful application, and from which the Emperor Napoleon will gloriously deduce all the consequences."
Let us note in passing, in the preceding lines, the precise idea of the strategic importance of speed.
FREDERICK THE GREAT.
The great Frederick's campaigns are an interesting study, at least in their broad outlines: the first of his reign are characterized by a constant regard for the offensive, so far at least as it was permitted by the ideas of that time and by the difficulty of revictualing armies due to the system of storehouses.
To make this offensive action possible, seasoned troops were needed, practiced in marching and maneuvering, under rigid discipline, all matters to which the Prussian king attached great importance and which he endeavored by every possible means to obtain.
He prepared, in this manner, the maneuvering armies which were necessary for the application, on the field of battle, of his favorite tactics of concentration against the weak point of the enemy's army, most frequently one of its flanks. The successful use of this plan required an oblique march, out of sight of the enemy, carrying the main body of his forces against one wing of the enemy, a delicate maneuver which only rapidity of execution and the endurance of soldiers inured to warlike exercises could make successful.
Frederick's tactics in reality amount to nothing more than this extremely simple plan of battle; to it he owed his wonderful successes in the first four campaigns of the Seven Years War, despite the notable inferiority in numbers of his armies relative to the allied forces. The frequency of his victories over more numerous enemies can only be explained by the excellence of a simple plan in which the idea of the superiority of forces concentrated at one point of the battle field is disclosed.
This simple tactics must not be confounded with the maneuvers and complicated exercises of the drill ground, which came so into fashion after the Seven Years War under the name Prussian Exercises, which the Prussian king never really used on the battle field, and which served him rather as a "bluff" to frighten Europe and so avoid new wars in which he feared to compromise his successes.
Here a comparison is forced upon the seaman, who in every military idea naturally seeks to find an application to naval affairs. At sea, even more than on shore perhaps, the need of well drilled forces appears evident. It is on a liquid plain, with no inequalities of ground to conceal one's movements from the enemy, that a fleet must be maneuvered so as to bring its whole weight to bear upon a weak point. How could one hope to accomplish this without a long and methodical preliminary training in time of peace, accustoming the ships to navigate and to evolute in close order with the maximum precision and rapidity? The concerted maneuvers which alone can give to an armed force that unity which will enable its chief to obtain the greatest results from the war machine which it really is cannot be improvised on the field; they are the fruit of a long and patient preparation which cannot be too particular of details.
From this point of view, the evolutions and formations of squadrons, which some superficial minds rather hastily condemn as useless, have an indisputable value, even if we see in them nothing more than a system of naval gymnastics, giving to the personnel a flexibility and a cohesion in maneuvering together, from which a sure benefit will be derived on the naval battle field.
I seize this opportunity to condemn the strange opinion of those who refuse to see in the exercises, voyages or periodical maneuvers of squadrons anything but pretexts for throwing away money in smoke; profound ignorance of the requirements of war can alone explain this point of view.
The great Frederick's method must be regarded as a good one, but with the condition that Prussian Exercises be rigorously proscribed upon the sea still more than on shore; that is to say all too complicated movements or evolutions requiring excessive use of signals.
In this connection, we refuse to accept those more or less learned combinations which under the pompous title of tactics are really only applications of a purely speculative geometry. Actual war on the field of battle has no relation with the theoretical figures which a complacent imagination conceives on paper or executes when guns are silent.
NAPOLEON.
Still more admirable in their simplicity were the methods of warfare of Napoleon, "the master of masters" as General Bonnal has called him.
The great Emperor's method he himself described when he summarized it in the phrase, "To march ten hours a day, to fight and then to rest."
This brief formula really contains a whole system of strategy. In the first place it postulates the immutable principle of rapidity, accepted by all great leaders as an article of faith of the military gospel throughout all ages, and so well known as such that it is astonishing to see it again brought into discussion in our own times. In the second place, it sets forth with precision the idea that fighting is of primary importance and the principal objective.
Bonaparte made the first application of his fine conception of war in the immortal campaign of Italy. He knew marvelously well how to draw advantage from the customs of his epoch, according to which the armies opposed to him, greatly superior in numbers to his own, occupied very extended fronts, with a view to increase the development of their fire. These forces thus disposed, and necessarily maneuvered very little, offered numerous points of weakness against which the young general directed the whole effort of his troops animated with the tremendous activity which he knew how to inspire in them.
He also might have said, as Alexander the Great did, that he won his battles by not losing time.
Though his armies were almost always inferior in numbers to those of his adversaries, still he constantly beat them by securing a numerical superiority at one point at a given moment. No one better than he has known how to show the exact meaning of superiority of military force.
It is fair to note that his genius benefited greatly by the radical transformation which took place in the composition and spirit of the French armies from the end of the eighteenth century. The powerful inspiration of the Revolution had animated the hearts of the soldiers and implanted in their minds the profound sentiment of a struggle for the fatherland, an ideal thenceforth sacred. The armed nation was about to supersede, for the first time, professional armies, composed of mercenaries. This great moral force was to be one of the most efficient instruments by which the genius of Bonaparte won victories.
Carnot had really already laid down the laws of the equilibrium of military forces and stated the principle of concentration against a weak point of the enemy so as to obtain superiority at that point. But the instrument for applying this fruitful principle was lacking, or, to speak more accurately, that instrument was not yet sharpened.
Another of the great elements of strength in Napoleon's military power was his constant and judicious economy in the use of forces. The word economy must not be here taken in the sense of parsimony, for, quite to the contrary, he himself laid it down as an axiom "that the very last man ought to be expended, if needful, on the day of battle, because on the day after a complete success there are no more obstacles to surmount and public opinion by itself alone assures new victories to the conqueror." Economizing here signifies holding in reserve ready to make the decisive effort at the selected time and place.
"Have no lines at all, but keep all your troops united and grouped together around Genoa, with your depots in Savona," he wrote to Massena at the beginning of the campaign of 1800, and he added: "Such are the true military principles; by acting thus you will beat fifty thousand men with thirty thousand and will cover yourself with an immortal glory."
This campaign of 1800 offers a fine example of the primary importance of strategic combinations prior to any other operation of war. France was about to face two armies, operating upon two very different fields, the Rhine and Italy. Under penalty of scattered efforts resulting in sure inferiority everywhere, a choice had to be made between the two objectives according to their relative importance.
Napoleon, in his Memoirs, has himself explained the motives of choice and the reasons which led him to regard the German frontier as of predominating importance and that of Italy as secondary.
"If the army of the Republic had been beaten on the Rhine," said he, "and had conquered in Italy, the Austrian army could have entered Alsace, Franche-Comte or Belgium, and have followed up its successes without the French army, victorious in Italy, being able to make any diversion capable of stopping it, since to establish itself in the valley of the Po would have necessitated the capture of Alexandria, Tortona and Mantua, which would have needed an entire season."
"If the French army on the principal frontier, the Rhine, was victorious, while that on the secondary frontier, that of Italy, was beaten, all that need be feared, was the capture of Genoa, an entry into Provence or perhaps the siege of Toulon. But a detachment of the French army of Germany, descending from Switzerland into the valley of the Po, could stop short the enemy's victorious army in Italy and Provence."
I have cited this case because it shows better than any amount of reasoning how important it is in war to prepare operations; this task, as essential on the sea as on land, belongs to strategy. This example also indicates the necessity of making a rational choice from all the possible operations, and above all of not leaving the decision to chance; the part played by fortune in the events of war is too important already for us not to try to limit it as much as possible.
It is extremely fortunate that any dominant conception which is sought for in the military acts of Napoleon, can be learned at first hand, since he himself took care to make it known. For those of us especially who wish above all to discover the philosophy of the principles of war of all times, this method of letting the authors themselves tell what motives they obeyed, is much more fruitful than any other based upon a dry and often arbitrary description of battles.
"The force of an army," wrote he in his Memoirs, "Like momentum in mechanics is measured by the mass multiplied by the velocity." How unmistakably suggestive it is to observe the unanimity of great warriors in taking speed to be one of the essential means of action. This fundamental idea ought to be pointed out on every occasion, for, despite the preponderant part which it has played in all the wars of the past, some still contest it in our time. As to the mass, that is to be taken in the sense of the superiority of effort at a given point, and to quite enter into Napoleon's idea, his decisive acts in war give us the right to affirm that he gave greater weight to velocity than to mass in the product in question. That is what enabled him to beat armies much greater in numbers than his own with troops endowed with extreme mobility.
In that inexhaustible mine of able thoughts, the Memoirs of Napoleon, we find this too: "A great captain ought to say to himself, several times a day: If the enemy's army appeared in front, on my right or on my left, what should I do? If he finds himself embarrassed, he is badly stationed, he is not according to the rules, he ought to seek a remedy."
Thus has he laid down the principle of prevision in matters of war, and at the same time the condemnation of the formula, "The future will take care of itself," in accordance with which too often in our history affairs have been left to the guidance of chance. And, moreover, this plan has been too unsuccessful at all times not to be vehemently rejected to-day, not to cause us to combat with energy the opinion, too often countenanced, that, in the absence of incontestable doctrines in military, and especially naval, affairs, leave everything to the inspiration of the moment should be the only rule. Such reasoning conducts inevitably to defeat.
Yet an analogous principle is very familiar to those of us who are seamen. The officer is taught, as the very grammar of his profession, that his first thought on taking the watch at sea should be to review mentally the possible contingencies, the meeting with ships, the saving of a man overboard, etc., so as to have clearly in his mind what should be done in the existing state of weather and sea. This excellent professional habit, which leaves nothing to the uncertainty and hesitation of unpreparedness, appears so natural to us merely because our naval education has changed it from a conscious to a reflex action.
Therefore this same principle can have only fortunate results in that so much more important and vast sphere of war.
"Every war conducted according to the rules of the art is a systematic war, because every war ought to be conducted in conformity with the principles and rules of the art and to have an objective; it ought to be carried on with forces proportioned to the obstacles which are foreseen," said Napoleon; and again:
"Alexander, scarcely more than a boy, with a handful of men conquers a large part of the world, but was this a mere onslaught on his part, a sort of rush? No, all is profoundly calculated, boldly executed, wisely conducted.
Caesar conquered the Gauls and overthrew the laws of his native land; but were his great deeds of war the result of chance and mere luck?
Will it be believed that Hannibal owed his career and so many great actions only to the caprices of hazard, to the favor of fortune?
"All these great captains of ancient times, and those who later on have worthily followed in their steps, only did great things by conforming to the rules and natural principles of the art; that is to say, by the correctness of their combinations and the logical relation of means to ends, of efforts to obstacles; they only succeeded by obeying correct principles, whatever may have been the audacity of their enterprises and the extent of their successes. They never failed to treat war as a true science. It is in virtue of this alone that they are great models, and it is only by imitating them that we can hope to rival them."
That success in war cannot be the result of chance stands out from these words with repeated and intentional emphasis, and establishes itself as their logical conclusion. A truth so fundamental, from the pen of such a man, ought already to have the force of a law; the most recent facts of military and naval history have just shown us what the cost is to nations which, ignoring it, have foreseen nothing and prepared nothing.
Clausewitz has denned Napoleon's method of war in these terms: "To begin by striking hard, to take advantage of his successes to strike again, to always and unceasingly stake all he has on a single card till the bank breaks: such was Bonaparte's way and it is precisely to this correct conception of war that he owes his incredible triumphs."
This judgment of a military writer of distinction shows how great a place fighting had in Napoleon's military designs; he surely assigned to it the principal role. If we add that his perfect understanding of the military customs of his epoch always permitted him to foresee the faults which his adversaries would commit, and to take advantage of them, we shall have a view, succinct but as complete as possible, of the simple means which constituted his method. It may well be thought that the constant study which he made of the history of great captains was not lost upon him.
However powerful the interest which would attach to a more complete study, entering more into the details of the life and acts of this great military figure, even from our special naval point of view, I must here close this brief survey in order to take up another subject, of more direct interest because it affects us more nearly. I refer to what has been called Napoleon’s Naval Strategy.
THE NAVAL STRATEGY OF NAPOLEON.
This matter is of special importance to us because its discussion will bring out the essential differences which exist between war on the sea and war on land.
There is no doubt whatever that Napoleon had a naval strategy, for he was too much a soldier not to feel profoundly that certain fundamental laws are true, whatever the circumstances, and that, in particular, naval operations are no more amenable to chance alone than land campaigns are. Moreover, to learn what his conceptions of naval strategy were, we have only to take his own words, which will greatly facilitate the investigation.
Possessed, ever after the campaign of Italy, by the fixed idea of overthrowing the English power, and too deeply penetrated by the true principles of war not to seek to strike at her very heart, he cherished the plan of an invasion of England.
On November 5. 1797, he wrote from Milan to the Directory: "To undertake, with some probability of success, the English expedition, there would be required: (1) good naval officers; (2) a large number of well led troops in order to be able to threaten several points and to reinforce the landing party; (3) an intelligent and vigorous admiral. J think Truguet the best…"
Later he returns to the subject, this time specifying the most serious difficulties of the enterprise: "Whatever efforts we may make," he writes from Paris on February 23, 1798, to the same Directory, "we shall not acquire superior force on the seas for several years yet. An invasion of England without having command of the sea is the most difficult operation which has ever been undertaken. It is only possible by surprising a passage, either evading the squadron blockading Brest or the Texel, or crossing at night in small boats and arriving somewhere in Kent or Sussex after a passage of seven or eight hours. To do this we need long nights and therefore winter. April past, it is no longer possible to do anything. Any operation which might be attempted with boats during the summer, to take advantage of calms, would be impracticable, because the enemy would offer insurmountable obstacles to a landing and above all to a passage. Our Navy is as little prepared to-day as when the army of England was created, four months ago…If, in view of the actual condition of our Navy, it is thought impossible to secure the prompt action which circumstances require, we must then give up all idea of an English expedition, and be satisfied, while continuing to threaten one, to fix our whole attention, and direct all our resources, upon the Rhine, in order to try to snatch Hannover and Hamburg from England or even to make an expedition into the East which might endanger the commerce of India. And, if none of these three plans is possible, I see nothing else to be done except to make peace with England."
How then can it be pretended that, in preparing his plan of an invasion of England, Napoleon ignored its difficulties? The foregoing letter proves, on the contrary, that none of them escaped his notice. He lays down clearly, first of all the principle of command of the sea, a principle whose consequences are of incalculable importance to the student of the philosophy of naval history. Doubtless, despairing of being able to meet this requirement, he does seek to escape from it by proposing a possible surprise; but in his case this is rather a consequence of his fixed idea, the destruction of the English power. Nurtured upon the study of Hannibal's method, he too wished to strike at the heart of his enemy, by attacking him on his own hearth, at the very source of his life. But if, for a moment, yielding to his impatience to obtain results, he cherishes the chimerical plan of violating the true principles of war and avoiding battle, when, a little later, the time for action comes, he returns of his own accord to the application of the principles which he, more than anyone else, has helped to make universally accepted.
The proof may be found in a note from Napoleon to the Minister of Marine, dated September, 1805.
"What was my intention in creating the flotilla of Boulogne? I intended to assemble forty or fifty war ships in the harbor of Martinique by combined movements from Toulon, Cadis, Ferrol and Brest; to have them return suddenly to Boulogne; to find myself master of the sea for a fortnight; to have one hundred and fifty thousand men and ten thousand horses encamped on this coast, a flotilla of three or four thousand boats, and, when the arrival of my fleet was signaled, to land in England and seize London and Trinity House. This plan just missed success. If Admiral Villeneuve, instead of entering Ferrol, had been satisfied to unite with the Spanish squadron, and had then made sail for Brest to join forces with Admiral Ganteaume, my army would have landed and it would have been all up with England.
"To make this project succeed, it was necessary to assemble one hundred and fifty thousand men at Boulogne, to have four thousand boats there and an immense quantity of stores, to embark all these, and yet to keep the enemy from suspecting my plans. I owe my success in this to my doing the opposite of what it seemed necessary for me to do. If fifty ships of the line were to come to protect the army's passage to England, transports alone were needed at Boulogne, and the profusion of galleys, gunboats, flatboats, shallops, etc., all armed vessels, was quite useless. If I had thus assembled four thousand vessels of transport, the enemy would without any doubt have seen that I expected my squadron to be present before attempting the passage. But by constructing galleys and gunboats, by arming all these vessels, I opposed cannon to cannon, war vessel to war vessel, and the enemy was deceived.
"He believed that I intended to force a passage by the sole use of the military strength of the flotilla. The idea of my true plan did not occur to him at all, and when, the movements of my squadrons having failed, he perceived the danger he had run, fear fell upon the councils of London, and all intelligent people admitted that never had England been so near to destruction."
The quotation, as may be seen, is well worth being given in full, for it is an example of magnificent strategy; its principles are faultless, and this gigantic plan might and ought to have succeeded. The necessity of command of the sea is set forth this time precisely and clearly. It is to obtain it, which can only be by actually having superior forces at the selected point, that he directed his squadrons for a time to avoid action, in order to bring about their concentration prior to the decisive operation.
Another advantage of this combination was that it divided the English naval forces sent forth in pursuit of different French squadrons of whose destination they were ignorant, and thus doubly inclined the balance of power to the side of France. This plan of operation also drew strength from its distinctly offensive character, and from the many advantages assured to the one of two adversaries who knows what he wants and whither he goes.
It suffices to call to mind the events of this year 1805, so justly celebrated in naval annals, to be sure that the Emperor was under no delusion when he hoped to keep his true design hidden from his enemies. Among the proofs of this there is none more decisive than the furious pursuit of Villeneuve's squadron by Nelson. Would the illustrious English admiral have sought for traces of his enemy first upon the coasts of Africa, then in the Antilles, if he had so much as suspected his real destination? His letter to the Admiralty, after Villeneuve's first sortie, leaves no doubt as to his ignorance of the intentions of his adversary. "Of two things one must be true" wrote he, "either this squadron has returned to port disabled, or it has held its course to the East, and probably towards Egypt."
The incident of the brig Curieux meeting by chance the squadron of Villeneuve at sea and on her arrival in England causing, by the sensational news which she brought, important changes in the distribution of the English forces, ordered at once by the Admiralty, is further evidence.
Napoleon's strategic plan, then, was perfectly conceived; I have said that it ought to have succeeded, and, in fact, if the success did not equal the ingenuity of the combination, there are many causes worth examination to which it may be imputed.
In reality, although unaltered in its main features, this plan under pressure of circumstances undergoes some modifications in detail, at least during the time of its execution.
At the beginning the principal role fell to Latouche-Treville, who was equal to it; this flag officer was to set sail from Toulon with his ten ships, to join to them at Cadiz the ship Aigle, to free from the blockade before Rochefort the five ships assembled there, and to enter the channel with these sixteen ships while Ganteaume held Cornwallis before Brest. The English at this moment had only seven or eight ships in the channel to oppose to this French naval force, their squadron of the Texel being unavailable on account of the necessity of blockading the Dutch squadron.
The concentration of superior forces in the channel was then not only possible, but probable; the death of Latouche-Treville took from this plan its greatest chance of success.
Napoleon then changed the details of execution of his plan and conceived the ingenious scheme of concentrating his squadron in the Antilles, Villeneuve was to sail from Toulon, this time to make a junction with the Spanish Admiral Gravina, and to steer for America. Missiessy and Ganteaume had been instructed to proceed to the same destination, the first starting from Rochefort and the second from Brest. Why this concentration could not be effected is known. On the one hand, Villeneuve, after a first unfortunate sortie on January 18, had been obliged to delay his departure for two months in order to repair the damages done to his ships by storms, so that, when he reached the Antilles, Missiessy, recalled to Europe, had already gone. On the other hand, Ganteaume had been unable to find a single favorable occasion for breaking Cornwallis' strict blockade.
And yet, the master thought which directed the plan still retained all its value. In default of the reunion of all the French forces prior to any operation, numerical superiority, the end aimed at, could still be obtained. Villeneuve, setting out from the Antilles in his turn, was ordered to return to Ferrol, to take the fifteen ships which were to be there, and to proceed to Brest with a fleet then composed of thirty-five ships.
Cornwallis' fleet comprising but eighteen ships, the certain cooperation of Ganteaume in the attempt to break the blockade, gave to the French-Spanish forces a superiority so crushing as to enable them to count upon success. The entry into the channel of the fifty-five ships thus united was awaited by the Emperor with feverish impatience. The success of this strategic plan was probable this time again because the English continued unsuspicious of the exact objective at which he aimed. Even after the indecisive battle of Cape Finisterre, even after the delays at Vigo and Coruna, Napoleon's strategic concept retained its high value. "Set forth," he wrote Villeneuve, "your passage by itself alone makes its with certainty masters of England."
At that very moment Villeneuve could still make a junction with Allemand. Missiessy's successor in command of the Rochefort division, descend upon Brest with thirty-three ships, and beat Cornwallis, who had but eighteen. And to do so, the French commander-in-chief need only have had a tithe of that wonderful military judgment of his emperor, or indeed of Nelson, which urged those two great warriors to seek battle instead of avoiding it, to risk a few cards to win the game. We well know how on the contrary this game was irretrievably lost by Villeneuve's timidity and his retreat to Cadiz.
This study of Napoleon's strategy is an admirable lesson in affairs and furnishes matter for very valuable instruction from which at the present time we can derive benefit.
Thus, behold a remarkable plan of operations, conceived in accordance with the best principles of war, by a man of genius for whom strategy has no secrets, and the execution of which is favored by the ignorance of adversaries who have failed to understand it. And yet it ends in a complete failure, and, still worse, in disaster.
This fact, inexplicable in the eyes of the uninstructed, results from causes, many in appearance, but really included in one single error committed by the emperor, and due to his ignorance of maritime affairs.
Without any doubt he lacked "the seaman" of the situation, capable of comprehending his views, of perceiving their greatness and assimilating them to the point of making them his own, a man sufficiently imbued with the true principles of warfare to assure success in their execution.
All the French admirals of the time were, without exception, second rate men, and the great master could not be near them to inspire them with his own ardor as he did in the case of his lieutenants in his campaigns on land.
"The great weakness of our navy," he himself wrote to Lauriston on February 1, 1805, "is that the men who command it are inexperienced in all the hazards of command."
But the absence of a faithful and intelligent interpreter of his military ideas is not enough to explain so great a failure. In his hour of exile, when Napoleon scrutinized his glorious past and sought the reason for the happenings of his reign, he made his full views known in the following statement which I have taken from the Memorial de Sainte Helene: "I looked unceasingly for the right naval officer without being able to find him. In that profession there is a specialty, a technicality, which put a limit to all my conceptions. No sooner did I propose a new idea than I had Ganteaume and the Navy Department on my back. 'Sire, that is impossible. And why? Sire, the winds do not permit of it; and then the calms, the currents,' and I was stopped short.
"If, instead of having to combat obstacles, I had met some one who agreed with me and furthered my views, what results might we not have obtained? But, during my reign, there never appeared in the Navy a single man who deviated from routine and knew how to originate."
Yes, it is very certain, he always lacked the true seaman, the necessary man of action, and this waste of energy upon the ordinary and inevitable difficulties of the profession, which a great chief must accept as the consequence of the inseparable circumstances of this calling, superabundantly reveals it.
But there was something else. The letters in which the unfortunate Villeneuve complained of the deplorable condition of his squadron were not wholly the lamentations of a timid mind which responsibility crushes, it is only too certain that the crews were incomplete, that for want of money they, lacked stores of the most urgent necessity, that the ships themselves were badly armed and badly equipped.
After the futile sortie of January 18, 1805, Villeneuve wrote: "Ships thus equipped, ill manned, encumbered with troops, having rigging which is old and of bad quality, which, with the least wind, carry away their masts and tear their sails, which, in fine weather, spend the time in repairing the damages done by the wind, by the feebleness or the inexperience of their sailors; such ships, I say, are unfit for any undertaking." And, at the end of the campaign, he wrote again from Coruna, "Never did such miserable ships put to sea. That is the primary cause of all our misfortunes."
And it is scarcely necessary to characterize the Spanish fleet, composed of "the poorest ships that ever were sent to sea," and so well known to be such that Nelson, in a famous act of bravado ordered each of his captains to attack a French ship and took upon himself alone the charge of all the Spanish vessels.
The real error of Napoleon, then, was believing that great designs could be accomplished with so poor a naval instrument. Accustomed to improvise armies, to recruit heterogeneous bodies of men whom he galvanized by the all powerful influence of his command, he always fancied that the same would do in the navy.
On May 9, 1798, he directed the commandant at Toulon to supply the deficiency of sailors by putting on board the vessels of the fleet what remained of the sixth half brigade of artillery. On June 16 of the same year, he likewise embarked five hundred Turkish slaves at Malta for service in the fleet. He never really understood the quite peculiar needs of a great navy, the wise and methodical preparation, an important work absolutely requiring time, which is needed to bring the personnel and material of a fleet to the point of being ready to fight. It is possible to imagine an army composed of recruits hastily levied and combined, and to admit that under the impulse of an inspired general, it may do great things. A navy cannot be improvised; the mere habituation to the abnormal medium in which it moves, the struggle against the fierce elements, which singularly complicates that against men, themselves demand a special and lengthy education of those who compose it. And this is still more true now when more complicated ships, filled with machinery, have pressing need of a trained personnel.
It was very far from rigorously correct, then, to trust the success of Napoleon's strategic plan to a simple arithmetical comparison. Really, the idea of "superiority of forces" in war is very far from being so simple a matter. And it is by no means certain that the fifty or fifty-five French and Spanish ships, had they succeeded in getting together, would have beaten the eighteen or twenty admirably prepared English ships which guarded the channel.
Nelson had but ten ships, Villeneuve had eighteen, and yet the former did not hesitate for a moment to pursue the latter to fight him. He knew his adversary and was sure that the superior worth of his own forces, moral and material, would more than compensate for his numerical inferiority. All these factors have weight in the true balance of forces.
The strategical lesson we have just learned is too important to us, even in its exposition of errors committed, for me not to anticipate a possible objection based upon a legend originated in the camp at Boulogne and tending to show that Napoleon's preparation was a mere feint. The emperor himself did justice to this story in his Memoires: "The invasion of England has always been thought possible, and the landing once effected, the capture of London was inevitable. Master of London, a very powerful party would have risen against the oligarchy. Did Hannibal crossing the Alps, or Caesar landing in Epirus or Africa, look backward? London is but a little way from Calais; and the English army, scattered for the defense of the coast, would not be concentrated in time, the landing once accomplished. Doubtless this expedition could not have been made with one army corps; but it was sure with one hundred and sixty thousand men, who would have been at London's gates five days after their disembarkation. The flotillas were merely intended to land these one hundred and sixty thousand men, and to get possession of all the shallow places. The passage was to have been made under the protection of a squadron assembled at Martinique and coming thence under a press of sail to Boulogne; if this plan of assembling the squadron failed one year, it would succeed another time. Fifty ships setting out from Toulon, from Brest, from Rochefort, from Lorient and from Cadis, meeting at Martinique, could appear off Boulogne and assure the landing in England while the English squadrons were sailing the seas to cover the two Indies."
Napoleon has made his conception still clearer in the following declarations, found in the Memorial de Sainte-Helene: "Some thought my invasion was a foolish threat, because they saw no reasonable means of attempting it; but I had set about it from far off, and operated without being seen. I had scattered all our ships; the English had to follow them over the world; but ours had the single object of coming back unexpectedly, all together, to meet in one body on our coast. I was to have seventy or eighty French or Spanish ships in the channel; I had reckoned that I should remain THE MASTER DURING TWO MONTHS. I had three or four thousand small vessels which only awaited the signal; my hundred thousand men every day went through the exercise of embarking and disembarking, like all the other drills; they were zealous and willing…"
I have purposely underlined certain words of this statement, because they show the evolution which had taken place in the Emperor's mind since June 9, 1805, when he wrote in these terms: "I really do not know what sort of precaution England can take to shelter herself from the terrible risk she is in. A nation is very foolish, when she has no fortifications and no army, to expose herself to the chance of having an army of one hundred thousand picked men and veterans descend upon her. That is what the flotilla is really for; it costs money, but it is only necessary to be MASTER OF THE SEA FOR six HOURS that England may cease to live."
The comparison of the underlined words in the two quotations indicates the evolution I just spoke of. When he wrote the earlier, Napoleon was under the dominating impression of his hot fight with his implacable enemy; the desire to reach her at any cost, the impatience to strike to her heart, obscured his judgment, and so much the more so that his ignorance of the essential needs of preparation for naval war concealed from him the real difficulties of his undertaking.
How otherwise can we explain his astonishment and disdain of a people who, contrary to the established rules, pretended to defend itself by other means than troops and fortifications?
It must not be forgotten, in fact, that this same man had taught, better than anyone else, to a conquered world, that the best of all defenses for a nation was the vigorous attack of victorious armies.
Later, on the rock of Saint Helena, reviewing his whole life and pondering the lessons of experience, he had had, on the contrary, the clear vision of the great primary role which freedom of the seas plays in naval operations; he had thus understood that on the sea, as well as on land, the protection of acting forces is the best of all, and that on this point there is real unity of military concept.
It is not during a few hours only that it would have been necessary to be master of the sea, nor even during a few weeks; it was necessary to conquer this command of the sea definitely, by the energetic action of a powerful fleet, superior in moral and material force to that of England. This result accomplished would have made any landing in England useless, for the government of that country would have humbly sued for peace.
It is altogether interesting to observe, in ending, that Napoleon, great admirer of Hannibal, imbued with the military ideas of the Carthaginian general, was like him to succumb from lack of naval forces, and to lose the empire of the world because he had lost that of the seas.
Waterloo was but the coup de grace; Trafalgar was really the mortal wound.
CHAPTER II.
AN HISTORICAL STUDY OF THE STRATEGY AND TACTICS OF DUQUESNE, TOURVILLE, SUFFREN AND NELSON.
In the preceding chapter we sought, in the history of great military wars, the principles which generals have obeyed in the pursuit of success; we now take up a similar study for naval wars, and it would be superfluous to enlarge upon the exceptional interest of the latter to naval officers.
The interest will be so much the more engrossing as we shall draw our documents from original sources, and shall take their thoughts from the very lips of famous seamen.
Assuming once more that the facts of history are known to all of us, I shall limit myself to recalling that, although the history of the French navy registers many reverses, it also contains many glorious pages. Victories and defeats alike will serve to bring out precious lessons in military precepts.
DUQUESNE.
In a letter from the celebrated Duquesne to M. de Vivonne, that great seaman develops his views upon war with a conciseness which makes them worthy of reproduction. Charged with carrying to Messina, with a squadron of twenty-four ships, troops to re-enforce M. de Vivonne, Duquesne had brought his fleet to the south of Italy, when, on August 13, 1676, the lookouts reported a number of sails which, on getting nearer, were recognized to be those of the Dutch squadron, also of twenty-four ships. Duquesne at once prepared for combat, but, favored by night, the enemy's fleet disappeared.
In the letter referred to, Duquesne thus expresses himself: "They planned to avoid us; nevertheless, had I not been burdened with this infantry, of whom a large number are taken sick every day, and with this convoy of provisions for the galleys, I would have followed and looked everywhere for that fleet until I came up with it or drove it from the seas. It being an important consideration to save this infantry, who would destroy our crews by the dysentery and bloody flux which are among them, and to prevent our being obliged within a few days to abandon the sea for lack of water, I thereupon assembled the general officers and decided that we would take advantage of the wind to reach the light house, send the convoy in and land the infantry there…and in the meantime that the fleet shall keep under sail or at anchor, in order afterwards, if, you approve of it, immediately to put to sea and catch up with that fleet of the enemy, to fight them or drive them wholly from these seas, according to the orders of His Majesty."
Thus we have it precise and clear. Despite the unfavorable conditions resulting from the use of his ships as transports and we know that, too often alas, the exclusively fighting role of a naval force has been ignored the great seaman does not hesitate to seek battle. He feels that no more certain method of fulfilling his mission exists than to destroy the hostile naval force. And when circumstances independent of his will have lost him the opportunity, he wishes, like the great warrior that he is, to seize upon it again and, dropping everything else, to hasten in search of the Dutch squadron to destroy it. That was the principal objective.
The battles of Stromboli and of Agosta, against an adversary in all respects worthy of him, Ruyter, had already shown Duquesne's exceptional worth and how well he understood war.
Thus, as his faithful historian Jal very judiciously observes, Duquesne disapproved of homoeopathic doses, of operations timidly prepared with insufficient means. He wished "strong squadrons, serious demonstrations, enterprises greatly conceived and carried out with the energy which facilitates and assures success."
In the struggle against the Barbary States, he advised the substitution for small armaments of others capable, by the fear they would inspire or by the force they could display, of forcing the Moors to respect treaties. He had a clear understanding of the fact that the idea of force dominates the entire philosophy of war; it is its reason, its object and its success.
In a letter written from Messina to Colbert, on May 7, 1676, the Chevalier de Tourville paid a notable compliment to Duquesne in these terms: "I must tell you, though as regards my own affairs I complain of no one, that there are pests in this corps who turn every thing upside down, and who are such great blunderers that if we pay any attention to them we shall find the best acts of M. de Quesne, and those of the greater part of the navy, will come to nothing at a time when he is doing extraordinary deeds for the King's service."
In another letter of August 26 of the same year, also addressed to Colbert, the same Tourville says again: "You will have learned that we have been unfortunate, that fourteen Dutch ships escaped from our hands by fleeing without pause. M. du Quesne took every imaginable care and missed doing nothing which could possibly be done in order to catch them, but their good luck saved them during the night without our being able to get near enough to observe them, although M. du Quesne stood for them under a press of sail. If we had not been burdened with troops, and most of the ships wanting water, M. du Quesne would have been seeking them everywhere."
TOURVILLE.
No one could be better fitted than Tourville to express an appreciation of a great captain like Duquesne, whom he saw at work and under whose orders he served. Perhaps no admiral ever had to a higher degree than himself the profound perception of the rules of war and of the necessity of destroying the principal forces of the adversary in order to fully accomplish the objects of a war.
The study of Tourville's campaigns is particularly profitable and interesting on this account; it justifies the important place we are going to give him, and the more so because his very active correspondence, still in existence, lets us learn all his strategic ideas; it is, consequently, a real lesson in affairs.
Tourville had the exceptional good fortune to unite in himself almost all the qualities of a great seaman; sea knowledge, quick perception, coolness, judgment, intuition of the right thing to do, profound sense of opportunities, etc., not to speak of native courage. He gave the measure of these remarkable gifts when, in 1689, setting out from Toulon with a fleet of twenty vessels, he brought about its junction at Brest with the fleet of Chateau-Renaud, in spite of the blockade of that port by the English forces.
The immense superiority of the latter, who mustered seventy sails, made any plan of forcing a passage impossible; on the other hand, a junction with Chateau-Renaud's squadron alone could reestablish the balance of forces. Tourville solved this difficult problem by his skillful seamanship. Counting on its being impossible for a blockading squadron to hold on at sea off the island of Ouessant with wind from the southwest, he waited patiently, standing back and forth off that island, notwithstanding the fatigues of a passage already long, with badly armed and scantily provisioned ships, until the wind came out as he wished. After six days' waiting, the breeze settled at southwest. Tourville immediately stood for the Iroise passage and entered Brest with a fair wind under the very eyes of the English squadron well to leeward. A complete success thus crowned his intelligent previsions. Objection might be made to this interesting example of military synthesis on the ground that the conditions of modern naval wars are quite different, and that steamships are no longer dependent upon the wind. I do not deny it; but however powerful the machinery of modern battle ships, there will always be conditions of the sea in which they will not be sufficiently so to overcome all difficulties. After a heavy blow from the southwest, such as frequently occur on the coast of Brittany for example, we can foresee that the circle of a naval force blockading Brest would be very considerably opened out; an energetic and resolute chief will know as well to-day as in Tourville's time how to profit by the aid of the elements under similar circumstances. The example, therefore, has in no way lost its value.
The best known, because in common eyes apparently the most brilliant, episode of Tourville's military career, is the naval victory of Beachy Head, won over the English-Dutch fleet commanded by Torrington.
Tourville had the advantage of numbers, seventy ships against fifty, but was to leeward, an unfavorable position which, during the fortnight's pursuit of the allied fleet, had as yet given him no opportunity of engaging it. The day of the battle, Torrington having decided to bear down upon the French squadron, it became possible to fight. In spite of the loss of six Dutch ships, the action might seem to have been indecisive, since the two fleets, English and French, separated without serious loss to either. But such was not the case, and we must modify this superficial view when we note, with Father Hoste, who was present by Tourville's side, that for a fortnight after this indecisive battle Tourville pursued the hostile forces with passionate ardor from anchorage to anchorage, and burned and drove on shore thirteen of their ships of the line. Do we not there see the certain proof of disorder spread through the English fleet, a consequence of their defeat? And should another proof be needed, the mere fact of the court-martial of Admiral Torrington in England would suffice to prove that the English people were far from satisfied with the results of the engagement.
However, this result in itself is of little importance to us; we find the outline of the true doctrine which we are looking for in a letter from Tourville to Seignelay, of July 13, 1690.
"Since our fight," writes Tourville, "we have not lost sight of the enemy, getting under weigh with every tide; but for the calms we would have had twelve or fourteen Dutch ships. Most of them being dismasted, they are the more easily towed by their boats; nevertheless the night of the 10th and 11th, they had to set fire to two of their ships, one a Dutch flagship of eighty guns and another of seventy guns. I detached some ships to follow a great Dutch three-decker which, having only a foremast, stood down the coast before the wind; I also sent others to try to catch six vessels which remained to leeward of the enemy's fleet; I am still pursuing them regardless of the fatigue of the men and of the weakened condition of our own masts. Like us they take advantage of the tides and of the wind, which has all along been favorable to their drawing close in to the dunes; I am persuaded that if I had been to windward of them after the fight, I should have wholly destroyed them."
Here we find a doctrine which begins to be familiar to us, and to stand forth from the study of the wars of the past with the force of a principle. Like Duquesne, Tourville regarded the destruction of the enemy's forces as a necessity, and having laid this down as his objective, he pursued its realization with his whole energy and with all his resources. He could not be content with an incomplete success, and used all the ardor and activity necessary to make it decisive in harassing the enemy without a moment's respite. Nothing but the circumstances of unfavorable weather could snatch from him the complete victory he sought; he had done everything to obtain it.
If Tourville's strategy can justly be considered a model, it is because, in the very circumstances where he himself knew defeat, it was precisely owing to his unwillingness to follow the counsels of his own genius and experience; and it is also because of having imposed upon him absurd plans that the government of France was beaten.
By an order dated May 26, 1691, Tourville was instructed to set sail with his squadron and to cruise at the mouth of the Channel with a view to the capture of a rich Dutch-English convoy from Smyrna. The principal objective imperatively assigned to Tourville by these orders was the capture of this convoy, for, according to their words: "His Majesty graciously informed him that the service he would render by the capture of this fleet, which is worth thirty millions, would be more important for the execution of his Majesty's designs than if he should win a second victory over the enemy's naval forces."
The poverty of this conception confounds us. Supposing that it was possible, would not the destruction of the hostile naval forces plainly have made the capture of the convoy, thenceforth defenseless, more certain than an attempt to surprise it possibly could?
To still further specify the unfortunate ideas of the naval authorities and to narrow still further the bounds set to Tourville's spirit, the order contained the following directions:
"Should the enemy go out of the Channel and should they be in superior numbers, His Majesty forbids his attacking them; he orders him, on the contrary, to avoid them, sparing as far as possible the reputation of his fleet, and taking advantage of any favorable opportunities which his capacity and experience may bring about, it being certain that there can be such conditions at sea as will cause the lesser number to become superior to the greater."
I refrain from formulating any opinion on this dictum; for Tourville took it upon himself to do so in a masterly manner in a marginal note, written by his own hand beneath the above quoted instructions.
"We should be informed," says he, "as to the number and strength of the war vessels in the enemy's fleet; we need not hesitate to attack them if their forces are only greater than ours by a small number of ships, six, seven or even eight. As I have already had the honor to say to the king, from the moment that two fleets are in sight of one another, so as to be able to recognize each other, it is impossible to avoid a fight. Should one hostile fleet, being to windward, wish to engage the other, at a season when the night is only three or four hours long and no sudden storm will occur to facilitate escape, the latter would have nothing to do but abandon all his ships except the very fast ones, a procedure quite inadmissible because it would demoralize the crews to such an extent as to make it very difficult to reassure them when it became necessary to fight; All flag officers and those who have sea experience will accept this as a fact, and that the better part (although inferior) is to await the enemy in good order and with firm countenance."
"Only people who have no knowledge of the profession" he further says, "can suppose that two fleets, during a campaign, can be in sight of one another without engaging, unless they so wish, and if any dare to maintain such a view, I think them very presumptuous and that they greatly compromise the king's service."
These few lines contain some of the essential elements of an entire doctrine of naval war; the primary importance of the battle; the impossibility of refusing it when one of two squadrons in sight of one another seeks it, the necessity of securing a homogeneous force by grouping together ships of the same speed, the influence of the moral factor upon the personnel, etc.; all these measure the chasm which separates the bureaucratic conception of war, which prescribes the avoidance of battle, from that wholly military one which, the contrary, faces it as the ultimate aim.
Let us be very clear on this point, for though Tourville's note might seem to make further emphasis unnecessary, we must avoid even the possibility of a misunderstanding on this subject.
To seek action, as the illustrious seaman explicitly states, does not at all mean to engage blindly, in any case, whatever the circumstances or the relative strength of the opposing forces. It was precisely because he fully understood the impossibility of holding his own with fifty-five ships against the ninety of the English fleet that he tried to make plain the inanity of this idea of capturing a convoy without running the risk of battle. For the same reason, when urged to order all his forces to put into Belle Isle, he vehemently objected. That place seemed to him badly chosen for such an assemblage: "It is of the greatest importance that the entire fleet be kept together when they put into port on account of the disadvantages which may result from a separation."
Under such unfavorable conditions, only his consummate skill as a seaman enabled him to keep the sea for fifty days in that immortal deep sea campaign and to bring his fleet back uninjured to Brest despite the pursuit and constant nearness of the enemy.
The narrow and despicable object sought by Pontchartrain, the capture of the convoy from Smyrna, failed of accomplishment, as Tourville had predicted.
To the reproach of the head of the navy department on the subject of his putting in to Bertheaume after the campaign, though formally forbidden to do so, he replies: "It would be much more agreeable to me to fight the enemy than to avoid him, which latter course has not a few difficulties." And again he says: "To be able to prevent a hostile fleet from accomplishing its purpose, we must be in condition to follow without losing sight of it and to fight it."
Events were close at hand which would show how entirely the naval administration of 1692 misconceived the admirable war instrument which it possessed in Tourville. How could it be otherwise when the destinies of the navy were confined to a man like Pontchartrain, who joined with Louvois in proposing to the king to replace this navy which cost too much and was good for nothing but defending the coast by troops. Such ideas, as false as fatal, explain the naval disasters which were their natural outcome.
New instructions announced to Tourville what was expected of him. The matter under consideration was one of those numerous plans for an invasion of England which mark the history of the French-English wars and of which the result was always negative, because the conditions which, before any trial, made them chimerical were never recognized.
His orders directed him to set sail from Brest even should he have information that the enemy was outside with a greater-number of ships than those which were capable of following him; they added that in the case of a meeting an imperative order was given to him to engage them no matter what their numbers. It is best to quote the text of what followed: "If when he has conducted his ships to the place of landing or when- it has begun, the enemy comes to attack him with a greater number of vessels than are under his command, His Majesty directs him to fight them and to persist in fighting, so that, even should he be worsted, the enemy may not be able to prevent finishing the landing."
One need not be greatly learned in naval matters to perceive all the folly and impotence of these strange ideas. Those who assumed to order battle under conditions of immense inferiority had scarcely any conception of what force means. Nor had they any understanding of naval war when they evoked the possibility of finishing the operations of a disembarkation under the fire of an enemy of superior strength. What the logical result of this governmental anarchy was is well known; the disaster of La Hogue, when Tourville saved at least the honor of the French navy, despite the extraordinary disproportion of the opposing fleets, forty-four French vessels against ninety English-Dutch.
But a new and very instructive lesson is to be drawn from these events; it is the disastrous influence upon the results of a war campaign exercised by the remote, narrow and vexatious action of an ignorant and altogether incompetent administration.
As Tourville himself said: "I beg you to believe that none wishes more than I to accomplish something, but my professional knowledge has compelled me to take precautions, and I have always noticed that officers who in Paris arranged the finest enterprises in the world became of quite a different opinion when here."
The restrictions placed upon the military operations of great leaders by too strict instructions, most often formulated without knowledge of technical or fortuitous necessities, have never led, so far as I know, to fortunate results. The history of the wars of all times and all countries furnishes, on the contrary, numerous examples of the unhappy part played in final failure by the untimely interference of the controlling powers in the operations in the field.
The Spanish-American war, that which recently took place in the far East, without counting many others, will allow us to sustain this conclusion.
This would be the proper place to discuss the American War of Independence, interesting in so many respects; but I think it more profitable to postpone its examination to the chapter on authors, when we shall set forth Captain Mahan's theories.
SUFFREN.
The transition from Tourville to Suffren is quite natural: the two great seamen really based their strategy on almost identical rules, deriving always from the same principles, for it was above all by the incomparable flashes of genius of his strategy that Suffren has made his name famous in all the navies of the world and has left to us, French naval officers, imperishable memories. It is not unnecessary to insist upon this important point, for in a book on naval strategy, which I should not mention were it not by a former naval officer, this astonishing opinion may be read: "Suffren was above all a tactician!!!" Such a remarkable conclusion can only be explained by a complete misunderstanding of history or by a much too superficial interpretation of facts.
If Suffren was actually ahead of his times in tactics; if he blazed the way in which Nelson, following him, found on the field of battle his most glorious successes, as we shall soon see in detail, we must repeat that it is above all by his magnificent conception of the art of high war that he became immortal.
Even before an important command had permitted him to display the full measure of his military genius, he had shown on many occasions how well he understood war, and his method, as we are about to demonstrate, resembles that which is already familiar to us.
In 1778, as captain of a ship in d'Estaing's squadron, he spent the whole time of that campaign in America, in chafing like a blooded horse under the direction of an incapable hand. The many echoes of his discontent may be found in his correspondence.
During the expedition against Saint Lucia, the English Admiral Barrington is surprised at anchor with seven ships; d'Estaing could easily have finished him, for he had twelve. But he preferred to attempt a landing, which failed; yet Suffren had written to him on this occasion: "Let us destroy this squadron; their army, ill supplied, in a difficult country, would surely be forced to surrender; let Byron come afterwards, he will then be welcome."
And thereupon appears, with startling clearness, the superiority of this conception of war, which fixes as its principal objective the destruction of the naval forces of the enemy. In this example of Saint Lucia, was it not absolutely sure that, Barrington's fleet once annihilated, nothing could relieve the island from the necessity of surrender, in the absence of any possible help? Better still, after Barrington's defeat, the French fleet could and must have conquered that of Byron; it would then have been mistress of the sea. Having failed to prevent the junction of the two English admirals, it let slip the victory which was in its grasp. The precise significance of superior forces is here exemplified, and the lesson to be learned is that in war it is not necessary to try to have absolute superiority all the time and everywhere. Such an endeavor would usually be in vain; but from the classic fight of the Horatii and the Curiatii till now, it is relative superiority, at one place and under fixed conditions, that it is important to secure. If d'Estaing had understood this he would have beaten the English in detail, Byron after Barrington, despite his inferiority relative to their joint forces. As for Suftren, he understood it, and already he was giving proof of the marvelous intuition in matters of war which was to immortalize his name and the campaign of India.
"Our campaign has been a succession of vicissitudes, of good fortune, of evil fortune, and of follies," he wrote after the Saint Lucia affair, where his counsels had been so little attended to, "During my thirty-five years of service I have seen many acts of folly, but never so great a concourse of them…the foolish maneuvers that hare been made, the silly and treacherous counsels that have been given, could hardly be imagined. Finally, I have fallen into disfavor for advising the attack of seven small ships with twelve big ones, because some of them were defended by some shore batteries."
After the Junction of the two English squadrons, which it had not depended upon him to prevent, he wrote further: "What is very much to be wished is that all this should be finished. A campaign a year long is very tiresome, especially when, having had ten chances to accomplish great things, we have done only what is foolish…I am full of disgust…"
In another letter he also said: "Otherwise led, we would have been loaded with glory and riches, but we shall get neither one nor the other…"
The opportunity was close at hand for this ardent and energetic nature to show the full scope of its military worth.
Two years later he sailed from Brest, with six ships and eight transports under his command, commissioned to proceed to the Cape of Good Hope, to there disembark the troops and prevent the occupation of that Dutch colony by the fleet of Commodore Johnston, sent there by England.
At the very beginning of this campaign, a war problem of the greatest importance presented itself without warning to Suffren; I refer to the incident known as the battle of Porto Praya. The adversary whom he expected to find south of Africa unexpectedly appeared before him, and he had to choose between two courses: either to take advantage of his momentary delay at anchor by proceeding with all haste and reaching the destination before him, or to attack and endeavor to destroy him.
For a man like Suffren, the choice could not be doubtful; since the only possible obstacle to the accomplishment of his mission was Johnston's squadron, the plan of suppressing that obstacle could not but enforce itself upon his mind.
The occasion was truly too favorable not to be seized, and that is why Suffren attacked. He even attacked with a little too much impetuosity, and if the strategical conception is without flaw, his tactical plan is far from meriting such praise. His orders, ill understood or badly executed by his captains, did not allow him to derive from the battle all the profit he had a right to expect. But, though the English squadron was not annihilated, it was at least sufficiently injured no longer to be in condition to proceed to the Cape until after serious repairs. Suffren's mission was then successfully accomplished, and that is the really important matter.
But this incomplete result could not measure up to the genius of Suffren. "Porto Praya could and should have immortalized me," he wrote; "I have missed, or have been made to miss, a unique chance. With my five ships I was able to make peace, and a glorious peace. But it was not so; that battle is of those which decide nothing, which are soon forgotten. "
This letter tells more than many facts how Suffren understood war; in another he added: "I have missed a chance to do great things with small means; I am inconsolable." Later on he was greatly to rehabilitate himself.
Thus, from the very beginning of his career as a military commander, his conception of war appears clearly and can be summed up in a brief formula: to consider the fleets of the enemy as the principal force which must be destroyed and reduced to impotence in order the more surely to accomplish the object of the war.
His wonderful Indian campaign afforded him means of applying his formula and of bringing out all its remarkable value.
To understand the full importance of the admirable lesson in naval matters which Suffren has bequeathed for our meditation, it is indispensable to make a rapid survey of all the difficulties with which he had to grapple.
Set forth from the Isle of France with his fleet, to carry on war on a coast wholly in possession of the English, he had at his disposition neither a harbor, nor a place of shelter against bad weather, nor any base of operations where he could repair or revictual.
And yet he did not hesitate, despite these unfavorable conditions, to push resolutely in pursuit of the English fleet under Hughes.
Sadras, Providien, Negapatam, Trincomalee, and Cuddalore, so many desperate and glorious combats, are the landmarks of a memorable campaign, infinitely more fruitful in the lessons of a wise system of war than in immediate results. Not one of these engagements was really decisive; but if Suffren did not succeed in satisfying his tenacious desire to ruin completely the English naval power in the Indian ocean, it was always the fault of his captains. It was this great seaman's fate never to have under his orders lieutenants capable of understanding his ideas, which were of too high an order for them, and which moreover shocked the timid traditions of the French navy of that period. He must have seemed, in their eyes, a sort of naval revolutionary.
Thus, in his correspondence, he gives vent, after each of his battles, to bitter complaints against his captains who, whether because they did not understand his orders or his signals, or because they wished to protest, in a truly unworthy manner, against the exceptional fatigues that their terrible chief imposed upon them, took but an indifferent and backward part in those battles.
His orders and his signals, nevertheless, deserved better; for in tactics, especially in its fundamental conceptions, Suffren was before all an originator and inaugurated the method of fighting which Nelson adopted and by which he obtained his greatest results. Until Suffren's time, in fact, battles were fought in what may be called the classic style, ship opposed to ship, in two parallel lines, and were nothing more than aggregations of duels.
Suffren overturns this tradition, pushing to its logical conclusion the profound sense which he has of the idea of force. He seeks to bring the whole strength of all his forces to bear together against only a portion of the enemy's fleet. Thereby he merely carries out upon the sea the principles already applied by great military leaders on the land.
The English historian Clerk wrote on this subject: "M. Suffren not having had the hoped for success in the attack upon the rear of the British squadron the 17th February, his attempt upon the van, equally well concerted on this occasion, evidently proves him to be an officer of genius and great enterprise."
"If M. Suffren had wind enough first to bring down the van of his fleet to the attack of the British, and afterwards to bring up the rear division to support it, even within pistol shot of the British center; and if the ships in the British rear could not in time get up to annoy a crippled enemy, this the more particularly illustrates the propriety and practicability of bringing up and directing the whole, or any part of a force, against a smaller part of the force of an enemy; and that the effect ought to have important consequences, in battles at sea, as well as in battles at land."
It is true then that Suffren had the making of an incomparable tactician, because he felt the necessity of revolutionizing maneuvers which were too much regulated, too confined, but it is also exact to say that he was not complete as a tactician, whereas he will always be a model, without blemish, in the matter of strategy. He did not take enough account, in fact, of the inexperience of his captains, and he did not take enough care to make them understand his plans before battle. That alone explains the persistence with which those captains held back from full co-operation with him in all his battles, without exception, and thus compromised his success.
After having noted that Suffren's military genius lacked nothing in knowledge of principles, his unerring strategy above all demands our attention.
Among the deeds of that fine campaign of India, the taking of Trincomalee is particularly interesting. To be able to carry on a war to the death, the French fleet had to have what is nowadays called a "point d'appui," and has always been a base of operations. Profiting by the absence of the English fleet, which had taken shelter in Madras for repairs after the battle of Negapatam, while he did the same in the open roadstead of Cuddalore, and also speculating upon the advantage which the southwest monsoon gave him by putting his adversary to leeward, Suffren appeared before Trincomalee, disembarked his troops, and within six days, by the activity and vigor of his attack, as well as by the mildness of the terms he offered, brought about the surrender of the place. This activity and this suavity were explained by Suffren's feeling that such an enterprise could only be justified in a military sense on the strict condition of being carried on out of sight of a hostile fleet. On the eighth day the latter actually appeared, but found the place taken. And this time once more the great French seaman had accomplished a masterpiece of war.
He had shown, on another occasion, to what an extent he realized the high responsibilities of a great military chief's mission. Called back, by instructions received from the minister, to the Isle of France, he did not hesitate to disregard them, for he would have considered it desertion to abandon a cruise which already had raised so high the prestige of French arms and shown to our enemies, as well to our allies in India, that there still existed a French navy.
This example of a courage unfortunately too rare, the courage to assume responsibilities, is worthy of much meditation; we must not be astonished at finding it in the great seaman we are discussing, for it has been one of the principal virtues of all the great warriors of all ages.
After the battle of Trincomalee, which followed the capture of that place, Suffren wrote to de Castries: "I have just lost the chance of destroying the English squadron…It is frightful to have been four times in a position to destroy the English squadron and that it still exists."
These few words contain in condensed form the whole theory of war; for us they now no longer express new ideas. We shall come upon them again more than once.
Suffren, as well as others, understood the whole importance of speed, when in his letters he did not cease to advocate copper sheathing ships and also to complain of the lack of frigates which prevented his pursuing the enemy; nor did he deplore less the lack of homogeneousness of his squadron, made up of unlike unities, a capital defect which was the most frequent cause of his ships going into action in disorder.
The results of this marvelous campaign have been summed up in the inscription upon the pedestal of the statue erected to Suffren: "The Cape protected, Trincomalee captured, Cuddalore delivered, India defended, six glorious battles."
We seem to be dreaming, after that, when we recall that scarcely a few years ago a minister of marine, questioned as to the theories of war then favored by the Naval General Staff, replied: "On no account will we recommence Suffren's campaign." Which amounted to saying that we refused in advance to add another to what is incontestably one of the most glorious pages of French naval history.
To keep the sea without let up, to winter on an inhospitable coast, to fall upon the naval enemy to fight him to a finish and destroy him, finally to win command of the sea, such were Suffren's deeds. Few laurels can be compared with his.
NELSON.
The distinction between Suffren and Nelson lies in the different instruments at their disposal and, to a notable degree, in their luck. While the former was the misunderstood leader of a poorly armed and badly trained fleet, and had at his disposal only precarious resources, and under his orders only mediocre and undisciplined officers; the latter had the good fortune to command homogeneous squadrons, wonderfully prepared by his predecessors, crews accustomed by very hard cruising to all the surprises of the sea, subordinates, all fine sailors, who could understand and assimilate all his war plans.
But if the instruments differ, the principles are identical, and the rules which both obeyed were in all respects comparable.
Even before he had assumed the heavy responsibilities of chief command, Nelson also had made known, on many occasions, how he understood war. After the naval battle of March 14, 1795, in the Gulf of Genoa, in which he had taken part under Admiral Hotham, convinced of the necessity of pursuing without rest the French squadron which, if not completely beaten, was at least demoralized as the result of an indecisive battle, Nelson went to see his chief to induce him to order the pursuit. The English admiral, satisfied with his partial success with what he considered a good day's work refused to consent to it. Regarding which Nelson wrote: "Now, had we taken ten sail, and had allowed the eleventh to escape when it had been possible to have got at her, I could never have called it well done. In short, I wish to be an Admiral and in command of the English fleet; I should very soon cither do much, or be ruined. My disposition cannot bear tame and slow measures. Sure I am, had I commanded our fleet on the 14th, that either the whole French fleet would have graced my triumph, or I should have been in a confounded scrape."
These words are a veritable confession of faith on the part of the great leader, the exposition of a doctrine which he was later on to apply with so great a mastery, and which he had drawn from the very sources of military history. They include moreover an idea which cannot be "too much pondered, that is so say that war is not to be waged without risks. For what is war in reality, if not a game, the most terrible of all, since the stakes are human lives, the destinies of entire races? One might as well say that he would never take any chance when he gambled.
Activity was also Nelson's chief characteristic: "Time is our best ally, and I hope we shall not soon give her up, as all our allies have given us up. Time is everything; five minutes makes the difference between victory and defeat."
He had also to the highest degree the courage to assume responsibilities. Who does not know of his celebrated act of disobedience to Admiral Parker's signals at Copenhagen? If he had obeyed those orders, which directed him to cease firing and withdraw, he would certainly have endangered his squadron, forced to pass through a narrow channel under the fire of the coast batteries. The intuition of his military genius must then have enjoined upon him as a necessity what, taken in its narrowest sense, was an infraction of discipline.
But it is above all in his operations against the French fleets that his deeds of war shine most brightly.
In the first phase of this naval struggle, in furious chase after the French squadron which carried Bonaparte and his fortunes to Egypt, he reaches Alexandria before it, puts to sea again at once, in the belief that he is on the wrong scent, cruises back and forth in the Mediterranean and finally meets it at Aboukir, where he destroys it.
Vainly would one seek in naval history for a more striking example of the importance of speed in the pursuit of an objective, and, in Nelson's eyes, all other considerations were secondary and lost sight of in comparison with this objective. To ruin the French naval power and strangle at their birth the projects of Bonaparte, one measure only seemed to him efficacious, and that was the annihilation of the fleet. And in his tenacious purpose to attain this object there is to be found, besides its faultless principle, the marvel of the great English admiral's naval strategy. His tactics is no less remarkable. Appearing unexpectedly before the French fleet, which was at anchor, unguarded, in Aboukir bay, and, with culpable carelessness, was absorbed in taking in water, he attacks it without hesitation, and, to better crush it, brings half the, French ships between two fires by anchoring a number of his own ships inshore of the leading ones. By this bold maneuver, he gave a new demonstration of the naval theorem of superior forces.
But it is especially in the second phase of this struggle, that which ended in the disaster of Trafalgar, that Nelson's military conceptions offer us the largest field from which to gather a rich and interesting harvest; on that sad page there is much for us to learn.
In the strict blockade of Toulon and the coast of Provence, maintained through stress of weather, he already points out to us a lesson by which we can profit even now. Men and officers inured to hardships, ready for all the trials of the most difficult seafaring, must be trained at sea, in conflict with its thousand changing phases, and nowhere else. Villeneuve's men, relaxed by too long a stay in the harbor of Toulon, were no match for those of Nelson.
Note this well, for in the game of war no cards are negligible.
The French fleet, having effected a first sortie, is obliged to return to port, partially disabled and much tried by a violent storm which Nelson had sustained in the excellent state which the sea habit alone can give.
Convinced that the French squadron on leaving Toulon had stood for the eastern part of the Mediterranean, the English admiral hastens in pursuit. There were two contingencies to be faced: either the French squadron, scattered by the storm, had returned to port, or, in spite of the damages of some ships, it had continued on its course towards a destination which he guessed to be the Levant.
Thus was laid before him for action one of the many war problems that a military chief has to solve with no other aid than his own sagacity.
He seized upon the solution of pursuit as the one with the maximum of chances in its favor, being very certain that in case the fleet he was harassing had taken refuge in port he would be able quickly to find it there. And, actually, Nelson pressed on to Alexandria, and learning that the French fleet had not appeared there, without delay started back to Toulon.
It is difficult to say which is the more admirable, the promptness of decision of the illustrious seaman, or his uncommon tenacity in carrying out his projects. He surely was a type of the great seaman, who perceived that a fleet is made to traverse the seas and not to rest in harbors.
A fortnight after his return from the Levant and his renewal of the blockade of the coast of Provence, the French fleet under Villeneuve's command again set sail and, this time favored by weather, escaped his watchfulness and stood for the Strait with a view to reach the West Indies.
Nelson, informed of this object within a few days, hesitates no more than on the previous occasion to launch himself in pursuit of a naval force which he has never failed to regard as a fit prey for him to capture and destroy. But, retarded in his voyage by incessant contrary winds and weather, he loses long days which the hostile squadron puts to good use. While he grieves over the good fortune which has deserted him, nothing disheartens him. "The luck may turn," he writes; "patience and perseverance can accomplish wonders." Informed, after reaching Gibraltar, of the route followed by Villeneuve, he also, without any hesitation, steers for the Antilles.
It is well worth while to observe that no instructions authorized him to leave the Mediterranean, which was under his care, nor even could his doing so have been thought of. And yet, in taking upon himself the whole responsibility for abandoning the field of operations which had been assigned to him, for the purpose of furiously chasing Villeneuve, Nelson gives us a wonderful example of that rigorous solution of the problems of war which attributes to the hostile naval force the chief role. Why did England maintain a squadron in the Mediterranean? Surely to destroy the power of the French fleet and to assure to herself the command of that sea. This fleet, though it had escaped from that sea, was still the only proper object of pursuit, and by destroying it, even at the Antipodes, the freedom of the Mediterranean and the supremacy of the English naval power were assured by the same blow. Guided by this powerful and faultless logic, Nelson made sail for the Antilles in obstinate pursuit of that fleet which he zealously called HIS fleet. This has generally been considered an arrogant expression, but for my part I am tempted to regard it as the very elegant formula in which he condensed his whole theory of war.
And this was so much his idea that, having learned, on his arrival in the Antilles, the departure for Europe of that ever vanishing fleet, he also turned back to Cadiz and the Mediterranean, energetically resolved to prevent it from regaining superiority in that sea, and disquieting Sicily.
The events which then developed are known to all: his arrival at Cadiz, where no news of the French fleet had yet been received; the indecisive meeting of Villeneuve and Calder off Cape Finisterre; the French admiral's abandonment of Napoleon's magnificent plan of war, his retreat to Cadiz, and finally the disaster of Trafalgar.
To make us understand what Nelson's tactical method was under these circumstances, nothing could serve so well as knowledge of the great English admiral's real thoughts. By comparing results with his anticipations, we may judge the value of his proceedings. Nelson's military idea on this special point is set forth in full in two memoranda of great enough importance to merit reproduction.
In the first, a real plan of battle intended for the captains under his command, before the memorable chase after Villeneuve's fleet, Nelson thus expresses himself:
"The business of an English Commander-in-chief being first to bring an enemy's fleet to battle on the most advantageous terms to himself (I mean that of laying his ships close on board the enemy as expeditiously as possible), and secondly to continue them there, without separating, until the business is decided; I am sensible beyond this object it is not necessary that I should say a word, being fully assured that the admirals and captains of the fleet I have the honor to command will, knowing my precise object, that of a close and decisive battle, supply any deficiency in my not making signals; which may, if not extended beyond these objects, either be misunderstood, or, if waited for, very probably, from various causes, be impossible for the commander-in-chief to make. Therefore it will only be requisite for me to state, in as few words as possible, the various modes in which it may be necessary for me to obtain my object, on which depends not only the honor and glory of our country, but possibly its safety, and with it that of all Europe, from French tyranny and oppression.
"If the two fleets are both willing to fight, but little maneuvering is necessary; the less the better a day is soon lost in that business. Therefore I will only suppose that the enemy's fleet being to leeward, standing close upon a wind on the starboard tack, and that I am nearly ahead of them, standing on the larboard tack; of course I should weather them. The weather must be supposed to be moderate, for if it be a gale of wind, the maneuvering of both fleets is but of little avail, and probably no decisive action would take place with the whole fleet. Two modes present themselves. One to stand on just out of gunshot, until the van ship of my line would be about the centre ship of the enemy, then make the signal to wear together, then bear up, engage with all our force the six or five van-ships of the enemy, passing, certainly, if opportunity offered, through their line. This would prevent their bearing up, and the action, from the known bravery and conduct of the admirals and captains, would certainly be decisive; the (two or three) rear-ships of the enemy would act as they please, and our ships would give a good account of them should they persist in mixing with our ships. The other mode would be to stand under an easy but commanding sail, directly for their headmost ship, so as to prevent the enemy from knowing whether I should pass to leeward or windward of him. In that situation I would make the signal to engage the enemy to leeward, and to cut through their fleet about the sixth ship from the van, passing very close; they being on a wind and you going large, could cut their line when you please. The van-ships of the enemy would, by the time our rear came abreast of the van-ship, be severely cut up, and our van could not expect to escape damage. I would then have our rear-ship, and every ship in succession, wear, continue the action with either the van-ship or second ship, as it might appear most eligible from her crippled state; and this mode pursued, I see nothing to prevent the capture of the five or six ships of the enemy's van. The two or three ships of the enemy's rear must either bear up or wear, and in either case, although they would be in a better plight probably than our two van-ships (now the rear) yet they would be separated and at a distance to leeward, so as to give our ships time to refit; and by that time, I believe, the battle would, from the judgment of the admiral and captains, be over with the rest of them. Signals from these moments are useless, when every man is disposed to do his duty. The great object is for us to support each other, and to keep close to the enemy, and to leeward of him.
"If the enemy are running away, then the only signals necessary will be, to engage the enemy as arriving up with them; and the other ships to pass on for the second, third, etc., giving, if possible, a close fire into the enemy in passing, taking care to give our ships engaged notice of your intention."
This first plan is a veritable discourse on tactics, for it would be difficult to express more fundamental ideas in fewer phrases. Everything is to be found there; in the way of theory, conviction of the necessity of forcing the enemy to fight, full and entire confidence in his subordinates, admirals and captains, based upon their complete understanding of the chief's plans, worthlessness of signals during battle, exposition of the principle of simplicity of methods in war. In what concerns execution, endeavor to crush a part of the enemy's line by the whole of one's own forces, and breaking up that line by passing through it; finally putting the finishing touch to victory by chasing the routed ships.
This enumeration would be incomplete, were it not added that Nelson declared, once more, that war cannot be made without running risks, nor battle engaged without expectation of injuries, and that he reminded all of the profit to be derived from a strict mutual dependence, all having a common aim. Having taken care to develop these sentiments in his subordinates, he could afford to announce that signals were useless. Not one of his principles has become obsolete; they are as eternal as the changeless truth.
The second plan of combat is better known than the first and has become famous under the name of Nelson's Memorandum; it is the one which was devised before Trafalgar; much may be learned from it:
"Thinking it almost impossible to bring a fleet of forty sail of the line into a line of battle in variable winds, thick weather, and other circumstances which must occur, without such a loss of time that the opportunity would probably be lost of bringing the enemy to battle in such a manner as to make the business decisive, I have therefore made up my mind to keep the fleet in that position of sailing (with the exception of the first and second in command) that the order of sailing is to be the order of battle, placing the fleet in two lines of sixteen ships each, with an advance squadron of eight of the fastest sailing two-decked ships, which will always make, if wanted, a line of twenty-four sail, on whichever line the commander-in-chief may direct.
"The second in command will, after my intentions are made known to him, have the entire direction of his line to make the attack upon the enemy, and to follow up the blow until they are captured or destroyed.
"If the enemy's fleet should be seen to windward in line of battle, and that the two lines and the advance squadron can fetch them, they will probably be so extended that their van could not succor their rear. I should therefore probably make the second in command's signal to lead through about their twelfth ship from their rear (or wherever he could fetch, if not able to get so far advanced); my line would lead through about their center, and the advance squadron to cut two or three or four ships ahead of their center, so as to ensure getting at their commander-in-chief, on whom every effort must be made to capture.
"The whole impression of the British fleet must be to overpower from two or three ships ahead of their commander-in-chief, supposed to be in the center, to the rear of their fleet. I will suppose twenty sail of the enemy's line to be untouched; it must be some time before they could perform a maneuver to bring their force compact to attack any part of the British fleet engaged, or to succor their own ships, which indeed would be impossible without mixing with the ships engaged. The enemy's fleet is supposed to consist of forty-six sail of the line, British fleet of forty. If either is less, only a proportionate number of enemy's ships are to be cut off; British to be one-fourth superior to the enemy cut off.
"Something must be left to chance; nothing is sure in a sea fight beyond all others. Shot will carry away the masts and yards of friends as well as foes, but I look with confidence to a victory before- the van of the enemy could succor their rear, and then that the British fleet would most of them be ready to receive their twenty sail of the line or to pursue them should they endeavor to make off.
"If the van of the enemy tacks, the captured ships must run to leeward of the British fleet; if the enemy wears, the British must place themselves between the enemy and the captured and disabled British ships; and should the enemy close, I have no fears as to the result.
"The second in command will in all possible things direct the movements of his line by keeping them as compact as the nature of the circumstances will admit. Captains are to look to their particular line as their rallying point. But, in case signals can neither be seen or perfectly understood, no captain can do very wrong if he places his ship alongside that of an enemy.
"Of the intended attack from to windward, the enemy in line of battle ready to receive an attack:
"The divisions of the British fleet will be brought nearly within gunshot of the enemy's center. The signal will most probably then be made for the lee line to bear up together, to set all their sails, even steering sails, in order to get as quickly as possible to the enemy's line, and to cut through, beginning from the twelfth ship from the enemy's rear. Some ships may not get through their exact place, but they will always be at hand to assist their friends, and if any are thrown round the rear of the enemy, they will effectually complete the business of twelve sail of the enemy.
"Should the enemy wear together, or bear up and sail large, still the twelve ships composing, in the first position, the enemy's rear, are to be the object of attack of the lee line, unless otherwise directed from the commander-in-chief, which is scarcely to be expected, as the entire management of the lee line, after the intentions of the commander-in-chief (are) signified, is intended to be left to the judgment of the admiral commanding that line.
"The remainder of the enemy's fleet, thirty-four sail, are to be left to the management of the commander-in-chief, who will endeavor to take care that the movements of the second in command are as little interrupted as is possible."
The worth of this document justifies its exceptional celebrity. The order of sailing will be the order of battle; it is with this admirable statement of principles that this incomparable seaman begins his instructions. It shows in the fewest possible words, that it would be the most dangerous of illusions to believe it practicable to perform on the very field of battle, face to face with the enemy, this or that complicated maneuver. From the moment that there appears any chance of an impending encounter, a naval force ought to take formation ready at any instant to open fire. In commenting on this exposition of principles, we cannot help thinking of the latest fact in universal naval history, of the battle of Tsushima, where the Russians were overwhelmed, principally because they were surprised in a cruising formation which bore no resemblance to a judicious battle formation.
In this memorandum two points of incontestable importance are touched upon: the reunion of two forces of sufficient numbers to constitute a real fleet, necessitating division into several squadrons, and the composition of a reserve force on the battle field. Thus is set forth the problem of bringing into action great fleets.
The memorandum specifies, still more than the first plan, a tactics based upon the attack of a portion of the hostile fleet by the whole weight of the naval force. Thus it sets forth with remarkable clearness the principle of the superiority of forces, and of relative superiority, at one or several points of the field of battle. We already know the method, for it is that of Suffren. The maneuver by which Nelson, wishing to cut the extended line of the French-Spanish fleet, exposed the bows of his ships to the fire of that long line, has been much and often criticized since Trafalgar, on the ground that this audacious maneuver would have ended in disaster against an adversary as well trained as the English fleet, provided with as good crews, above all with as good gunners as they.
The argument has no weight: there cannot, in fact, be any rigid and absolute rule in war; everything is there, on the contrary, a question of degree. Knowledge of the moral qualities of the adversary is one of the most essential factors of war; it is necessary to the commander-in-chief all the time and under all circumstances. And it is precisely because Nelson knew thoroughly the moral and material situation of HIS fleet, the demoralization of its crews, the precarious condition of the armament of its ships, the undoubted inefficiency of its gunners, the deplorable gunnery methods used on the French ships, and finally and above all the timid and undecided spirit of Villeneuve; it is because of all that, I say, that he could and should have permitted himself the audacious maneuver under discussion.
It may well be that in the sight of I know not what academy of war, learnedly laying down the law on paper, he was wrong; on the field of action, and under the conditions, he was fully right, and the facts have overabundantly demonstrated it.
The memorandum further accentuates the principles of mutual confidence and self trust in battle, without which there could not be any decisive action; that which he accorded to his second in command, Collingwood, honors the latter as much as the chief himself. It was the very sign of Nelson's sagacity; a commander-in-chief cannot have confidence in his subordinates when he has not confidence in himself. Another truth of all times and of all countries. There is the same conviction of the uselessness of signals, once the action has begun. If a captain is under fire, he is at his station! This is worth remembering and meditating upon.
Finally the most admirable thing about the famous memorandum is the precision of the ideas developed in it and the care which Nelson takes to make his captains understand his thoughts, the whole idea of their chief, in order that they may themselves bring to the battle one and the same conception, and supply what is needed in the solution of unforeseen cases, inseparable from every battle, in the absence of new detailed orders, of signals, and of what may be termed intuition.
That the principles of the memorandum were faithfully and wholly carried out is a matter of quite secondary importance; its author might die and disappear at the very beginning of the battle: he had breathed into the minds and into the very souls of his captains the principles and elements of victory; thenceforth victory was assured, and, despite his untimely exit from the battle field, it was Nelson who won the battle of Trafalgar, not Collingwood.
These conclusions acquire new force when we compare with these wise, concise and logical previsions the indecision and real demoralization of Villeneuve. Even when he set out from Cadiz, he was marked for defeat.
And now we understand and share in Admiral Bouet-Villaumez's appreciation: "One does not know which to admire most in Nelson's memorandum: the spirit of foresight or the clearness of exposition of the plan, which covers all general cases without going beyond the limits of a quite military conciseness. Only at this cost are great successes won. How few know anything of the necessary preliminaries, and how many disasters are due to the ignorant or lazy spirit of leaders who do not think themselves called upon to play their real parts till the very day of a battle!"
CHAPTER III.
THE AMERICAN CIVIL WAR. THE ITALIAN WAR (LISSA). CHILE AND PERU. ADMIRAL COURBET'S CHINA CAMPAIGN. CHINA AND JAPAN.
THE AMERICAN CIVIL WAR.
In taking up the study of the American War of Secession, we begin a series having a new and considerable interest due to the fact that they will show us, for the first time, modern war material in use, steamships, armor-clads, etc., even submarines. For this reason alone, it deserves our careful attention, though we shall not be able to derive as many profitable lessons from it as from the great naval wars between France and England in the early part of the century and in the preceding century. In this conflict between parts of a single nation, those encounters of large forces, engagements of great fleets, which in the past have been not only the object but the principal method of great naval wars, are not to be expected.
Accordingly I shall give only a very brief resume of this famous civil war. And I do this only because, despite its narrow scope, it affords material for interesting observations. One primary strategical principle dominates, in effect, the whole conduct of the war, and it may be said that the Federals' final success was entirely due to its faithful and stubborn execution. It is true that the very conditions of the opposing sides imposed this principle upon them, yet we must recognize that the one which had assumed the burden of maintaining the union knew how to profit from it. We have too often seen, we shall too often again see, the necessity of a general strategical plan in the conduct of a war, not to note in passing an evidence of good judgment on the part of a government.
The struggle was not one between two mere factions, differing apparently over the best solution of a social problem, like that of the maintenance or the suppression of slavery, but really over the question of political supremacy; it was, above all, a struggle between two peoples diametrically opposed in ideas, customs and modes of life.
While the Union States were more particularly industrial, those of the South were almost wholly agricultural. From this essential difference dissimilar interests were bound to result, and for that very reason quite different resources for making and sustaining a war.
If the Federals had many manufacturing establishments, a great industrial population, permitting them to construct rapidly war material, armaments, equipment, ships, etc., the Confederates on the other hand had little or no mineral wealth and available labor. The latter's wealth, principally based on the exportation of cotton to Europe, could only give them the means of compensating for their original inferiority by the purchase, from abroad, of war material. But this necessitated the introduction of this material by way of the sea.
It was precisely the intuition of this real weakness which gave rise in their adversaries to the idea of the strategic plan of which I have spoken, and the realization of which by itself alone assured the success of the Federalist cause.
To prevent the Confederates from supplying themselves with material and arms, the most certain method must be a strict blockade of the southern coast. By this means two advantages were to be gained: first, the suppression of cotton exports, and consequently the drying up of the most important source of revenue of the Southerners; second, as an immediate consequence, the impossibility of their supplying themselves with arms for continuing the war. And such actually was the result of the blockade; for if, after several years of desperate and glorious resistance, the Southerners laid down their arms, it was because, lacking everything, a prey to the most frightful destitution and completely isolated, further resistance had become impossible.
To understand how very closely the success of the Confederate cause was connected with freedom of the sea, we need only recall that at the beginning of the war the seceding states lacked cannon, small arms and munitions of war to such an extent that churches of all denominations, as well as individuals, gave their bells to be used in making them.
Under these conditions, they had to take what they could get as contraband of war from foreign countries, and as a result, at the end of the war, nearly forty different models of small arms were to be found in their equipment.
Blockade alone could stop this nourishment of the forces of resistance, and from the beginning the Federal government resolved upon the establishment of this blockade.
Beyond doubt it was not very strict at first; the navy, although almost wholly adhering to the Federal side, was not sufficiently numerous to exercise an effective guard at all points of a coast of great extent; a guard which was rendered very difficult by bad weather, fogs, etc. Thus the exploits of the blockade runners a veritable industry and almost wholly English which, laden with war materials, entered the Southern ports, and left them again laden with cotton, have become justly celebrated.
But little by little the Federal government, realizing the full importance of naval effort, increases its naval strength. Its fleet, which comprised less than a hundred ships at the beginning of hostilities, was of more than four hundred in the middle and nearly seven hundred ships at the end of the war. The progressive increase of the number of ships emphasizes the importance of the strategic plan as well as its continuous development. And this incessant growth equally marks the tightening of the grip which closes each day more on the revolt of the Southern states, until it ends by strangling it.
These special circumstances dictate to each of the two belligerents alike a particular system of war.
The Federal navy, having on its side the uncontested mastery, the superiority of numbers and of force, will naturally take the offensive, carrying, according to a well known phrase, its own frontiers to the enemy's coasts. The operations which it will undertake, all arising from this single general principle, will not have the sole object of neutralizing the riches of the South by a more and more strict blockade; they will also have the result of taking from the South, one by one, its forces of resistance, and finally of killing that resistance itself by penetrating to the very heart of the country, by the Mississippi.
For the Confederate States, on the other hand, who dispose only of precarious means, who have no navy, or so little of one, and are not able to improvise one (for a navy cannot be improvised), a single way is open, that of the defensive. And then, under the impulse of imperious necessity, there appear, in the theater of war, new engines, as yet scarcely roughed outlined, but for which brilliant future destinies are reserved: torpedoes and submarines. Yet this is not all, an unarmed country, surprised by war, without having foreseen all its consequences, without having prepared its forces for that war, is driven to the necessity of seeking help from all means, from every expedient. Thus will arise the thought of attacking the maritime commerce of the Northern States, since nothing can be done against their war ships, and the cruiser Alabama will become the most justly celebrated of commerce destroyers.
But all this will serve only to prolong the resistance of the side condemned in advance to defeat because it did not have that command of the sea which was the sole source from which its life could be sustained. All the ingenuity displayed in the invention and use of mines, the marvelous bravery of the Confederate sailors in their attempts with submarines, the activity used in attacking maritime commerce, all these were of necessity unavailing.
It could not be otherwise; for, even putting aside historical examples, which have always condemned the defensive method with a persistence not to be attributed solely to chance, simple reflection indicates that a system of war based on the attack of one or several of the enemy's partial forces, without menace to the totality of those forces and notably the principal one of them, could not give decisive results.
In spite of all Robert Lee's genius, and Jefferson Davis' political skill and activity, the South of necessity was to succumb, for lack of a powerful navy.
No other war could furnish Captain Mahan a more valuable and suggestive contribution to his fine book The Influence of Sea Power upon History.
Such, outlined in brief, is the character of this war of secession. From our special point of view, this broad outline will be sufficient, for it includes all that can interest us so far as the general principles of war are concerned. In effect, it contains all: the irresistible action of fleets; the superior value of the offensive; the insufficiency of the pure defensive and commerce destroying, employed by themselves alone, to reduce the antagonistic forces and thus fulfill the object of war.
If, therefore, we study some of the details of this war, which might appear needless, it is because they furnish more than one opportunity for profitable observations.
The action of the Federals was favored not alone by the adoption of a logical and fertile strategical idea; it also benefited by the energy and special ability of men like Farragut and Porter, to name only the most famous, who had to carry it into execution. Their methodical operations against the shore defenses all had for objective not only the weakening of centers of resistance by the overthrow of forts or batteries, but also the acquiring of safe harbors and bases for the Federal fleet, to facilitate the maintenance of a more and more strict blockade by the shelter they would afford to the blockading vessels against the frequent storms of that coast. So too they served on many occasions to assure the landing, at fixed points, of the Federal armies intended for offensive turning movements against the Confederate troops.
From this long succession of operations, I shall recall only certain facts relating directly to the object of my book, and, at the very first an event not at all important in its immediate consequences but having a great after effect upon naval ideas and upon the path of development of naval tactics till the end of the 19th century. I refer to the battle of Hampton Roads, where on each side appeared, for the first time, in action, the armor-clad, whether improvised on the part of the Confederates by building upon the hull of a frigate burned by the Federals, the Merrimac, a casemate armored with railway iron, or constructed in all its parts by Ericsson, with armor of thick plating, like the Union Monitor, the consequence was the same. This simultaneous appearance brought to view, for the first time, two ships provided with armor impenetrable by the projectiles of the period, and that is why the fight at Hampton Roads marks an epoch in naval history. On that date not only there appeared a new fighting unity, but also there was restored to use a new weapon, or, more exactly, an ancient method of single combat, as old as the invention of galleys. I allude to the use of the ram, by which the Merrimac sank two Federal frigates before the arrival of the Monitor. The two adversaries tried to use it on the following day, but without success.
This resurrection of a method of fighting which could well be supposed forever abandoned, powerfully supported some years later by the similar occurrence of a war which we shall have occasion to study further on, has exercised a considerable influence upon naval minds, and, in our time still, few officers escape its influence. The undeniable trace of this influence may be found in naval constructions, for the most modern and most perfected fighting ships in all navies are still equipped with rams.
Later on we shall have to discuss thoroughly the question of the efficiency of this weapon; let us now limit ourselves to the statement that the artillery of the combatants was composed of smooth bores, and that the two rams were not equipped with weapons of long range, capable of preventing a close engagement.
A second event, big with consequences, the whole importance of which nevertheless was only appreciated twenty-five years later, took place February 17, 1864, before Charleston. The Federal corvette Housatonic was at anchor off the city when, at night fall, an object like a plank gliding over the water was suddenly perceived. A few minutes later the object was alongside, and before the ship could escape by veering chain and backing her engines, there was an explosion, sinking the Federal vessel. The Housatonic had been attacked by a submarine, the David, commanded by Lieutenant Dixon, who in triumphing buried himself and his crew.
This pioneer is well worth naming; for if the naval art has had to wait a quarter century to realize all the profit of an invention destined to once more modify tactics, none the less this example shows the brilliant result which could already be obtained with an instrument of war incomplete, and even in the rudimentary state.
Of a submarine, the David really had but the name and the possibilities, for the accidents of previous trials show that the problem of stable underwater navigation had not been solved by it; the day of its attack on the Housatonic, it navigated on the surface. The principle alone, however, is of consequence; and to tell the whole story, the David, as a submarine, was much in accord with the degree of perfection of all the other engines of war of the period.
That deadly strife between hostile brothers, the war of secession, brought forth not the submarine alone; it gave birth also to an engine formidable in its effects, of uncertain action to be sure, but so much the more redoubtable as all its hits gave mortal wounds. I speak of the torpedo, of which so great a use was to be made in later wars, notably in that which we have just seen taking place in the Far East.
The successes to be ascribed to the agency of the torpedo in the war of secession are many and various. Counting ground mines anchored in channels and floating mines, no less than eighteen vessels of war, monitors or gunboats, were destroyed by it during the war. The best known of these exploits is the destruction of the Tecumseh, an armored monitor sunk in a few moments in the attacks on Mobile.
To this brilliant showing must be added the victims of the torpedo borne by steam launches right up against the sides of hostile ships, a bold plan which proved that anything can be expected from resolute men who are inspired by a high ideal.
Besides the Housatonic; the armor-clad New Ironsides, the frigate Minnesota and finally, the most noted, the armor-clad Albemarle in the Roanoke river, were thus sunk.
It will be recognized that more numerous and more complete successes could hardly be expected, and the weapon by which they were accomplished certainly yields to no other in power. And it is all the more instructive to note that these results, remarkable as they were in their essential value, did not in the least alter the logical conclusion of the war. They could grievously wound the adversary, but, having no effect upon his principal force, they could have no serious effect upon his destiny.
The same thing was true of the attempts against the enemy's commerce. If I pause for a moment to consider this question, it is because the war of secession has most often been used as an example by stubborn advocates of commerce destroying, as a sole method of war, to defend their opinion. In the example before us, the expression "commerce destroying" is moreover unsuitable. "Commercial war" would be a more exact expression, for the pursuit of merchant ships was carried on by regular or auxiliary war vessels which had nothing in common with the privateers of former times, like Surcouf, for example.
We must not forget that the Federal commercial marine of that time consisted almost entirely of sailing vessels, which very greatly simplified the task of the commerce destroyers; finally and above all that the cruisers found in all countries, on every coast, facilities of every sort for replenishing their supplies, which it would be impossible to obtain to-day. Besides which there is the quite modern question, so delicate and complex, of neutrality, which, in the famous voyagings of the Alabama, forty years ago, did not excite any of the suspicious susceptibilities so prompt to be aroused in our time.
Without this, how could Captain Semmes have cruised in the Alabama for nearly two years undisturbed in the Atlantic and the Indian Ocean before yielding to the blows of the Kearsarge off Cherbourg. And the prolongation of this period of immunity was due to the Federal naval vessels being fully occupied in maintaining the blockade of the southern coast.
This time again, exceptionally favorable circumstances permitted a particular system of war to develop its action; nevertheless it did not cause the march of events to deviate in the least. Like the torpedoes, and, in a general way, all engines of the defense, it served to defeat only one of the partial forces of the enemy; powerless, as I continue to repeat, against the totality of those partial forces, and especially against the principal force represented by the Federal fleet, its action was bound to be negligible.
It is for this great lesson, much more than for its comparatively unimportant facts, that this war is of value to us.
THE ITALIAN WAR (LISSA).
The conflict of 1866 between Austria and Italy has exercised no little influence upon the naval history of the latter part of the 19th century, and, even to this day, upon opinions regarding the conduct of naval war, battle tactics and the preparation of naval material. The memories of the battle of Lissa are still so alive that their effect upon very recent exercises of our squadrons can easily be seen. For this reason alone it would not do at all to pass it by without mention.
At the beginning of this war the belligerents appeared in very unlike conditions. The superiority in material, ships and guns, as well as in numbers, undoubtedly belonged to Italy, which had spared no sacrifice to prepare a strong navy; but she too, like so many others, had forgotten that strength resides not in excellence of weapons alone but also in the training and quality of the personnel called upon to use them; in short that military power is not made wholly of physical force, but equally includes a moral force; perhaps the more important of the two, since it alone can overcome the inertia of the first and inspire it.
And it is quite thus that Tegethoff, the Austrian admiral, understood the matter when he pronounced those famous words: "If you have no cannon, still give me ships, I will do the best I can with them." Like all good workmen, he would not blame his tools.
Circumstances still greatly favored the Italian fleet. Its chief, Admiral Persano, had had the rare, and so much the more valuable, good fortune to receive from his government clear and precise instructions, based upon a faultless strategical plan. On June 9, that is so say more than ten days before the opening of hostilities, the admiral already knew the firm intentions of the central power, which could be resumed in the brief formula: "Prepare to chase the enemy from the Adriatic, to blockade him, or to attack him, wherever you may find him."
The search for the enemy afloat and his destruction were beyond any doubt the principal ends to be attained, in order to insure conquest of the command of the sea; they must in any case have so seemed to the Italian government, which believed that it could surely count upon a superiority of forces.
We are obliged to suppose that this simple conception of war was completely strange to Persano, for a month later he was still asking explanations from his Minister. The latter gave them to him with a precision which left no room for equivocation: "The principal objective, before anything else, must be to become master of the Adriatic by clearing that sea of the Austrian Squadron."
It would be difficult to explain how so clear and logical a program could have led to such a grievous strategical error as Lissa, were it not that history has taught a hundred times already how much the instinctive, unreasonable fear of action has been and still is ineradicable in the minds of some leaders. Finally, after multiple delays, caused very much more by the waverings of his mind than by his alleged desire for a better preparation of his ships, Persano, having obtained authority to do so, resolved to make a tentative attack on the island of Lissa.
At noon of July 16 the Italian squadron, composed of twelve armored ships of a total displacement of forty-six thousand tons and of twenty-three wooden ships, frigates, despatch vessels or transports, of twenty-eight thousand tons displacement altogether, set sail from Ancona for its destination, where, after delays and hesitations of all sorts, it only got into position to attack the shore batteries forty-eight hours after its setting out.
To undertake operations against fortified works on shore, while freedom of the sea was not assured, was in itself a grave error, since the inopportune arrival of the hostile squadron in the midst of the enterprise was always to be feared, and since a dangerous position was thus voluntarily occupied; but, if undertaken, they should have been carried on with the greatest vigor, in order to reduce to a minimum the adverse chances.
And this puts us strongly in mind of a similar operation, Suffren's attack on Trincomalee, with which a comparison is timely.
No more than Persano, did our most famous seaman have command of the sea when he made his bold attempt against Trincomalee; but at least he had already made his adversary, the English Admiral Hughes, feel the whole strength of his aggressive ardor; he knew moreover that his enemy was temporarily held up at Madras, and he recognized the whole value of activity. We have already seen how he took Trincomalee before Hughes could return to his attack.
Persano, for his part, had no idea of the prime importance of time, of the influence of rapidity of execution upon the attainment of success; in a word, of speed.
Thus, when on July 20, four days after his departure from Ancona, he saw the Austrian squadron appear, not one of his attempts against the batteries of the island had been crowned with success. Furthermore, this event found his forces in the most complete disorder; for, hoping more certainly to reduce the shore defenses, he had thought it necessary to divide his forces into three portions, respectively opposed to three different points of the island.
And yet, four long days having gone by, how could he have hoped that the Austrian squadron would not have learned of his venture against Lissa?
Thus it was in the enemy's presence that the Italian squadron had to concentrate again, rallying to the commander-in-chief's flag, and it is perfectly self evident that such conditions could not but be eminently unfavorable. And they were the more so because that enemy, himself having a clear conception of affairs of war as well as a profound sense of the simplicity of its methods, had adopted for cruising the order of battle.
Tegethoff, then on reaching the field of battle, had behind him a naval force every element of which had but one thought in mind; to fight.
Quite different was the thought of the Italian commanders, or at least it was more complex, for to anxiety concerning the approaching engagement was added that of the necessity of reforming as quickly as possible.
In fact, the reunion could not be completed; at the moment when the battle opened, only nine Italian armor-clads, stretched out in a column over six miles long, were able to confront the whole Austrian squadron formed in close order. The precipitancy with which, owing to the surprise, the Italians had taken formation, had furthermore the result of offering to the immediate attack of the mass of Tegethoff’s squadron a partially isolated head of column.
The breaking up of the Italian line could not help resulting, and that is what actually happened.
The most interesting lesson, in my opinion, to be derived from the battle of Lissa is the exact meaning which should be given to the term superiority of forces. Like Nelson at Trafalgar, Tegethoff was inferior in numbers. To the forty-six thousand tons of armored ships and the twenty-eight thousand tons of wooden ships of the Italian squadron, armed with a total of five hundred and ninety-six guns, he could only oppose twenty-seven thousand tons of armored ships and twenty thousand tons of wooden ships, mounting altogether five hundred and thirteen guns.
And yet, as much by his boldness as by his skill in profiting by the faults of his adversary, he managed to turn the scales in his own favor by obtaining superiority of forces at one point of the battle field.
The essence of the battle of Lissa, in my opinion, is contained in these simple considerations. It has been customary, on the contrary, to indulge in endless dissertations attributing all its success to the formation of the Austrian squadron in double echelon; there has even been imagined in this double echelon a sort of spur, ram or wedge, with which Admiral Tegethoff broke up the Italian squadron. That is but imagery; the reality was otherwise.
Under any circumstances such a conception would give to geometry, in matters of war, a part which certainly does not belong to it; but in the case of Lissa it would have been necessary, to justify its utility, for a real engagement between two squadrons maneuvering on the field in different formations to have taken place. These maneuvers alone would have permitted a judgment of the respective values of the different formations. But after the first encounter, the action degenerated at once into a veritable melee, a succession of partial combats wholly beyond the control of the commander-in-chief. It is not to his wedge that Tegethoff owed his victory; but to the concentration of all his ships upon the almost isolated head of the Italian column.
We may believe, on the other hand, that if opposed, for example, to a compact, supple, thoroughly manageable column, under the direction of a resolute chief, the Austrian squadron would perhaps have regretted having adopted a too rigid and too little manageable formation. Like Nelson at Trafalgar, Tegethoff at Lissa profited greatly by the timid weakness of his adversaries.
We must recognize, however, that his boldness was justified by the certain knowledge which he had of their weaknesses.
This observation strengthens the impression, which we have already received from the study of history, that it would be vain to seek for the formula of some one formation applicable to all cases and sure to give victory.
The best movements to make on the field of battle necessarily depend upon those of the enemy, upon his activity, his initiative, his morale. Such a maneuver, dangerous against a resolute opponent, will be perfectly proper and will make complete success easy against another who is demoralized. In tactics, as in strategy, outside of general principles, there are only concrete cases, and since I am recalling the great English seaman, it is always useful to remember that he surely never thought of describing, on the surface of the sea, more or less ingenious geometric figures, when he led his two squadrons in wedge formation against the center of Villeneuve's fleet. He merely applied the elementary principle of the power of mass upon a point of feeble resistance.
I have said that the battle at once took on the character of a melee; it is in this series of individual combats that the events occurred the persistent repetition of which has given to the battle of Lissa a traditional aspect, and which have had such great influence on naval ideas up to our own time. In the eyes of too many people still, Lissa represents only, in effect, battle by ramming and the triumph of the spur.
The wreck of the Re d'Italia, struck broadside on by the Ferdinand-Max and sinking in two minutes, was the salient feature of the battle, and there is no doubt that we must admit that this picture is very striking in order to explain the considerable influence of an incident which has never been repeated and the impression of which still lasts after forty years, despite altogether radical changes in naval material.
I shall limit myself to the remark that when Lissa took place, rifled artillery was still in its infancy, and that on the Austrian as well as on the Italian ships smooth bores were in the majority. The adversaries, then, like those of the war of secession, had no long range weapons at their disposal, sufficiently efficient at great distances to prohibit close action.
Tegethoff's merit was precisely that he understood that the relative impotency of the artillery, at that time, permitted taking all the risks of closing. His signal "to rush upon the enemy and sink him" was then fully justified.
And he discounted, for the success of his attack, not only the insufficiency of the guns of his time, but also the incapacity of the Italian gunners, and their lack of training, so true is it that at every stage of history the all powerful influence of preparation for war makes itself felt.
From the insignificant part played by the gun in the battle of Lissa, so insignificant that, aside from the burning of the Palestra, caused by an Austrian shell, gun fire did only very slight damage on .either side, the attempt has been made to draw far too broad conclusions and to assign to that weapon, in the future, a secondary role. This is to forget that an exception only confirms the rule, which from the very beginning of disputes and battles, has been characterized by a progressive evolution tending to the production of weapons of longer and longer range. Fortunately we shall find a striking demonstration of this in the study of the actual events of more recent wars.
To finish with this engagement of Lissa (I purposely use the word of restricted meaning rather than the word battle, for the character of a great battle is not to be found there), I have only to observe that if Tegethoff revealed in his energetic attack the real qualities of a great chief, he was not completely a great chief. His victory was really only a half victory; to make it decisive, it would have been necessary for him to pursue the scattered units of the Italian fleet, to track them without truce or mercy, to take advantage of their disorder and the certain demoralization of their personnel to destroy them.
In leaving the field of battle without following the logical sequence of his first success, Tegethoff, whatever his worth, proved that he was not of the same metal as Nelson.
It is only fair to state that, in attacking, Tegethoff disregarded the formal directions of his government, whose constant care was to be sparing of its forces. But since, to his great honor, the Austrian admiral had had the courage to assume that responsibility, once the victory was in his grasp he should have gone on to the very end.
THE WAR BETWEEN CHILE AND PERU.
Although I have included in my work a study of the war between Chile and Peru, it is not because of any expectation of finding there encounters of great naval forces such as must be expected in any modern war between powerful maritime nations. But this naval campaign, although in a restricted field, affords us a chance of an excellent lesson in strategy, and also furnishes a new contribution to the demonstration of the utility of a navy.
The respective geographic situations of the two countries, separated by a zone almost uninhabited and arid, and very hilly, insured an important role to their naval forces, because it was necessary for troops to avoid crossing this desert by taking the sea route around it.
At the opening of hostilities, the naval forces of the belligerents were very nearly equal. Peru had two armored ships, the Huascar and Independencia, two monitors and two wooden ships; Chile could oppose to these two armored ships, the Blanco-Encalada and Cochrane, four wooden corvettes and two gunboats. As may be seen, the two naval forces were quite comparable, although of slightly different composition.
With a clearness of decision which does honor to her judgment and was to procure for her an immediate naval advantage, Chile without delay assumed the offensive by blockading the port of Iquiqui. But, in speaking of this as advantageous, I do not mean that I can give unreserved praise to the manner of its execution, for the Chilean navy could not hope to maintain an effective blockade with two small gunboats like the Esmeralda and Covadonga. But the mere fact of vigorously planning an attack showed her energetic resolution, and by intimidating the adversary, should have taken from him a portion of his resources.
The two Peruvian armor-clads, Huascar and Independencia, attacking the two gunboats, to break up the appearance of a blockade, sank the first by ramming her; but, pursuing the second into shallow water, the Independencia struck a rock and sank.
We may attribute, in a philosophical sense, some small part in causing this important event to the offensive action of the little Chilean gunboats, taken to disconcert the Peruvian sailors and diminish their needful coolness.
However that may be, the loss of the Independencia, by destroying the balance of naval force in favor of Chile, turned the tide of events and pointed to an end of the conflict which nothing but a reconstitution of the Peruvian fleet could possibly prevent.
And this was indeed really the decisive act of the war. Chile thenceforth possesses superiority of forces on the sea, and her opponent will never take it back from her. The Huascar, under Admiral Grau's excellent direction, may multiply her movements, may appear and disappear here, there and everywhere, bombard the shore batteries, capture prizes, sow terror along the whole coast, and display unexampled activity in interfering with and discouraging the military operations of the Chileans, who will not dare to embark their troops so long as she so resolutely keeps the sea. All that is true, and without exception remarkable, but it is all useless. The Huascar is marked by destiny, her days are counted and her end is fixed. With equal preparation on both sides, and above all equal morale, she must succumb to the superiority of material force, and as battle cannot be indefinitely escaped or refused, the day will come when, forced to fight, she will finally perish.
The combat of Punta-Agamos remains justly famous, because a drama, to satisfy the public mind, must have decorations, scenery, above all be touching; the heroic resistance of the little Huascar to the furious attacks of the Cochrane and Blanco-Encalada, responds wonderfully to these aspirations. But for us, who have to weigh matters with more calm deliberation/ the essential fact, the determining cause, will always be the initial weakening of the Peruvian naval forces.
The capture of the Huascar by Chile definitely ratified the conquest, already virtually won by that nation, of command of the sea. Thenceforth she could freely transport her troops to the Peruvian coast, blockade its ports, and as a last resort force upon Peru an agreement. The final victory was truly the navy's doing.
This war in the Pacific not only gives a lesson in strategy, but it also affords opportunity for valuable tactical observations.
The battle of Punta-Agamos is really, in the chronology of naval battles of modern times, a turning point of history; it inaugurated the reappearance, on a brilliant stage, of a too long neglected weapon, and one which will resume, after a half century's unjustifiable obscurity, a place which will not cease to grow in importance till it has become the very first: I speak of the gun. And it is truly by the gun, and by the gun alone, that the Huascar was defeated and at last compelled to lower her flag.
That is not all. This fight marks yet another memorable date, for it gave a wholly experimental proof of the fact that an armored ship had other weak points than those that were sheltered by an armor thought invulnerable; and that, through them, her source of life could be reached.
When the Huascar, unable to longer resist, surrendered, the command had descended to the seventh officer in order of rank, the six seniors having been killed in succession; a third of her crew were dead or wounded, and there remained on her not a single gun capable of being fired. But this ship, become an inert wreck by reason of the destruction of her personnel, was so little damaged in her essential parts that, hardly a few weeks after the battle, she was cruising again under the Chilean flag.
Already new times could be foreseen in which, the gun having rightly again become the incontestable arbiter of naval battles, it would be judged much more reasonable to seek to attack a vessel at all points than only in a zone of too limited extent not to make the chances of striking it very uncertain.
From all that precedes there arises, as may be seen, the clear impression that the lessons of history are not measured by the stature of its events, and that in such a small theater as that of the war between Chile and Peru, the harvest may be valuable and abundant.
ADMIRAL COURBET'S CAMPAIGN.
For the reason just given it will be interesting to examine the broad outlines of Admiral Courbet's Chinese campaign. Here again we shall find no great military doings. China, properly speaking, had no navy, or at least what constituted the germ of one could not stand against the naval forces disposed of by France. Therefore we are not going to seek examples of encounters of squadrons or large groups in this campaign; but every military action, small or great, is the enforced consequence of a controlling thought, of a general plan aiming at a determined object; it necessarily derives from either good strategy or bad strategy; and that is exactly why the analysis of every war campaign, no matter how narrow its limits, contains a lesson.
Moreover this affair is one in which our own country was engaged, and that reason alone should suffice to attract our attention to it. The attentive examination of past errors should help us to avoid making errors in the future.
Nobody any longer seriously denies that a great many errors were committed in this Chinese campaign; and here let me make my position clear. Confining ourselves exclusively to the study of war, for that very reason we owe it to ourselves to bring to that study absolute sincerity and frankness; the errors made in the conduct of the war are all that concern us, but we must not conceal any of them.
It suffices to run through the official correspondence between the government and Admiral Courbet for these errors to become apparent, almost from the first telegram.
The most important of all of them, beyond any doubt, is the absence of a supreme controlling idea of a coldly matured plan of operations which is revealed by the collection of dispatches. In this respect, they evidently live, in governmental circles, from day to day, under the unstable impressions of events, without well knowing what they wish, or whither they are tending. And, as is inevitable in such cases, the commander-in-chief is closely held in leading strings, by which the wonderful privileges of action are paralyzed.
After the ambush of Bac-lieu, Admiral Courbet had received orders to set out for the north of China and to hold himself in readiness to seize guarantees, if that power refused to accord legitimate compensation. I have purposely used the very word which served to make known by telegraph the governmental idea; for the insistence with which it was repeated, in the subsequent official correspondence, indicates that it was the cherished hope of the French cabinet to lead China to an agreement by the seizure of territory belonging to her.
I do not condemn the principle itself of taking guarantees. This procedure should necessarily be counted one of the many ways that can be employed to injure the forces of an enemy, and doubtless it is an attack upon them, especially upon their morale, to take possession of one or more portions of the national domain.
Yet it is indispensable to make a good choice of these guarantees, and such was not the case, certainly, when the French government designated to Admiral Courbet the island of Formosa as that whose seizure would intimidate China. That was ill to comprehend the special characteristics of the vastest empire of the world, so vast that its nationality is a pure abstraction and that North Chinamen and South Chinamen, not speaking the same language, have lived to this day in the most complete reciprocal indifference.
Formosa was already very far removed from the center of Chinese life for it to be hoped that its conquest would greatly affect a public opinion which, moreover, was completely misled by a controlling bureaucracy interested in concealing from it the truth by representing defeats to be brilliant victories.
Moreover, the island had too large a population to think of trying to conquer it by the insufficient means of landing parties from the French squadron. Finally, from the seaman's point of view exclusively, the choice of Formosa was a detestable one, since that island was destitute of safe and sheltered harbors. This is plainly seen when, after having given up the occupation of Kee-lung on account of insufficient troops, it was wished to maintain a blockade of that port. At the same time with this difficult and useless operation, the admiral was ordered to blockade Fu-chow.
The second error; scattering of efforts, so contrary to all the principles of war, which demanded, on the contrary, their concentration, with a view of obtaining the superiority of forces.
To conquer nations, as with individuals, the heart must be struck at. It was at the very center of the Chinese power, then, that blows should have been directed. Admiral Courbet would not have been the great chief who has left with us an imperishable memory, if he had not felt these essential truths. Accordingly he proposed to the government, only a few days after the opening of his campaign, to take the proposed guarantees in the Gulf of Petchili, and he indicated Port Arthur and Wei-hai-Wei as the two most favorable places. The mention of these two names is peculiarly suggestive in view of the future events which on two different occasions took place on those shores. This common sense strategic plan the French government could not comprehend; it maintained its first project of purposeless blockade of the coast of Formosa.
On August 22, 1884, China having refused all satisfaction, an active move was decided upon, and on the following day, Admiral Courbet, momentarily free from restraint, accomplished his fine feat of arms in the river Min and destroyed the arsenal of Fu-chow.
But this tentative activity was only to be for the occasion, since the government's instructions, immediately afterwards, turned again and more obstinately than ever the valiant admiral's efforts towards the useless Formosa undertaking.
Acting under the dictation of his honor and his responsibility as military chief, the admiral could not but reopen the subject with his government, to explain the weakness of the operations, without any possible result, which were forced upon him, and at the same time to propose those which the true theories of war indicated.
On September 4 he set forth in a telegram to the Minister of Marine the difficulties of the capture and retention of Kee-lung and Formosa with the resources at his disposal, and the disproportion between the necessary effort and the profit to be drawn from a venture against an island too far away, as Fu-chow was, from Pekin, to influence the Chinese government in the desired manner. And he added: "It would be better to begin operations at once in the north; we would take Che-Foo as our base, and establish there the troops which would enable us to occupy Wei-hai-Wei and Port Arthur." Some days later he reverted to the subject: "My plans are: to start for Che-foo with the forces available, to take the islands at Che-foo as a center of operations and supplies, from Che-foo to fall upon the Chinese naval forces, to attack Wei-hai-Wei and Port Arthur by sea; to occupy them with the available troops, if possible; if not possible, to establish ourselves on the best points of the Miau-Tau islands to blockade Port Arthur and the Gulf of Petchili."
To fall upon the Chinese naval forces! We find in these words from Admiral Courbet's pen the application of a doctrine which we have already more than once met with, and which begins to appear to us as the foundation stone of the theory of war. Its execution would have made necessary the use of all the disposable naval forces and the sending of a few troops; but with blind obstinacy, the French government, in all its instructions, went on, in somewhat puerile fashion, reiterating its fixed idea of having in hand a guarantee with a view to reopening negotiations, and refused to furnish the troops. So, to satisfy this fixed idea, important forces, which would have been much better employed elsewhere, had to be left stationed before Kee-lung. The reverse of Tamsui, and the obligation closely to blockade Formosa, were to demonstrate the ineffectiveness of this method to bring China to yield to the French demands. As we know, it was only by stopping the exportation of rice that this result could be attained at last; this can not surprise us, for only in that way were the vital interests of China touched.
Even the foregoing very brief analysis of this campaign furnishes matter for important reflections.
We have there seen an admirable chief, full of energy and of wise resolution, having a very clear sense of the fundamental rules of the conduct of war and capable, surely, as he has proved himself, of accomplishing great deeds, if the blundering control of an authority exercised from thousands of miles away had not neutralized these incomparable qualities. Quite like Tourville before him, Courbet suffered from too heavy fetters placed by the government on his military actions.
In striking contrast to this is what will happen ten years later in the same theater. We shall not find then, at the head of the Japanese fleets, admirals of such exceptional worth as to deserve immortality, but on the other hand we shall see a staff already conscious of the impossibility of military improvisations, knowing what it wishes and with a firm will to attain to it, having prepared a plan of operations in conformity with sane principles and carrying it out to the end without weakness. We had "the man," but we neglected preparations for war, as well as war itself; in the contest between China and Japan, the conquerors did not have "the man," but they knew how to prepare methodically for war and to carry on war. This was an experimental proof that the system to which von Moltke owed his successes in 1870 is as excellent on the sea as on shore.
One other observation is necessary; there are no profitable operations possible in a war the details of which the political power pretends to direct, when the distance of the field of action forbids its determining their relative importance and following their progress.
We have already had occasion to exhibit the productive freedom of action which Nelson of good rights enjoyed, the elasticity of the general orders given to him, wholly contained in the brief and clear formula: to win command of the Mediterranean, which permitted him to follow the enemy's fleet even to the Antilles.
Suffren, he also felt the full value of military independence when he wrote the Minister, de Castries: "The king can be well served in these far off countries only when those in command have great powers and the courage to use them."
Moreover, our illustrious seaman had found a man capable of understanding him in this Minister who wrote to him: "The king has announced to you in your instructions, Sir, that all courageous acts which his generals may do, even though they fail of the success which their boldness deserves, will be none the less honored of him, and that inaction is the only thing with which he will be displeased."
I have already affirmed under too many circumstances the necessity of building everything upon a system of definite responsibilities for anyone to suppose that I am defending the delegation of powers. It belongs to the national authorities alone to give the initial impulse, to establish what may be called the program of future hostilities, but if one makes war, of his own accord or because he is forced to, it matters not which, he must know how to make it; once the war has begun, its direction belongs to the military chief. Every other method leads straight to defeat, and if all the conquests of modern progress in the matter of rapidity of communications are to have for a consequence restraint of the indispensable initiative of the supreme commander in the field, all the benefits which they confer will not be sufficient to make up for their evil effects.
That is why I could not let slip the chance of expressing myself frankly on this subject. If there be need of supporting the examples of Suffren and Nelson, we have the great authority of Napoleon, the master of the subject. Treating, in his Memoirs, of the duties of generals, he expresses himself as follows:
"A general in chief is not relieved of responsibility by an order from a minister or a prince far from the Held of operations and knowing badly or not knowing at all the last state of affairs: (1) Every general-in-chief who undertakes to execute a plan which he thinks bad or injurious is criminal; he ought to make representations, to insist upon a change, finally to resign rather than be the instrument of the ruin of his own people; (2) Every general-in-chief who, in consequence of orders from a superior, delivers battle with a certainty of losing it, is equally criminal; (3) A general-in-chief is the first officer of the military hierarchy. The minister, the prince give directions to which he must conform in his soul and conscience; but these directions are never military orders and do not exact a blind obedience; (4) Even a military order is to be blindly obeyed only when it is given by a superior who, being on the spot at the moment of giving it, knows the state of affairs…"
It seems to me well to give these quotations, not only because, with due regard for the proportions of course, they apply to the campaign we have just been considering, but also because they condemn the unfortunate natural tendency of the central authority, in almost all contemporary wars, in all countries, to meddle with the practical conduct of operations. I am inclined to think, for my part, that the repeated defeats of General Kuropatkin, on the plains of Manchuria, had no other original cause.
THE WAR BETWEEN CHINA AND JAPAN.
The war between China and Japan was carried on by the Japanese government, as I have already said, in an infinitely wiser way. A savage attack at the beginning, before any official rupture, was the first manifestation of the manner in which it intended to operate. By sinking, without formal declaration of war, a transport laden with Chinese troops, and by attacking some Chinese cruisers, the Japanese indicated their intention of not letting things drag out to great length. They, also, drew inspiration from the formula "quickly and thoroughly," and if, from the sentimental point of view, which we need not here regard, this action was of doubtful propriety, it offers in the special order of ideas of our studies a valuable hint.
And truly the execution of their plan, from beginning to end, was carried forward with the same resolution. The Japanese government well understood the whole value that can be derived from a seizure of guarantees; but it never thought of choosing them in some useless island, almost unknown to the Chinese world, in any case too far from that empire's brain for events taking place there to make an impression upon it. It is in the Gulf of Petchili, in that way of entry to the capitol, that the Japanese are going to strike.
Their initiation into the military doctrines of high war was certainly of very recent date, since, less than a quarter of a century before, their sole war material was the Samurai's sword, and their navy had no existence, and yet they had been able so completely to assimilate them as to afford an example to more than one nation rich in old traditions.
"Aux nations bien nees,
La valeur n'attend pas le nombre des annees."
I am tempted to point out an initial error which they made, although it had no evil consequences: their first effective military operation was the transportation of an expeditionary force to Chemulpo. Looking at it from a purely traditional point of view, it is certain that, in the very interest of the success of this undertaking, their first care should have been to "fall upon the Chinese fleet" to destroy it, or in any event to put it out of any condition to do harm, by blockading it in its port of refuge, and to assure to the Japanese navy the command of the sea.
Doubtless the very judicious arrangements made by Admiral Ito for the passage of the convoy, the protection of the transports en route by the squadron, the precautions taken to clear the way and to avoid any possible surprise on the part of the Chinese squadron, reduced to a minimum the hazard of this infraction of fundamental principles. With different adversaries than the Chinese, it might nevertheless have cost dearly, for a sudden attack, by a very small, manageable naval force, on a fleet embarrassed by the care of a convoy, will always put the latter in a very disadvantageous position.
The fact is that we must suppose the Japanese admiral to have had the conviction, which he certainly ought to have had, that with such adversaries as the Chinese he could permit anything; he was quite right in that. And this observation has its value, for as we have already many times pointed out, there exists in every war a psychological side which must not be neglected.
The commander-in-chief of the Japanese fleet, moreover, a few days after the combined operations at Chemulpo, was to return to basic principles by seeking the Chinese squadron and inflicting upon it a defeat, near the mouth of the Yalu. It is particularly suggestive to note that Admiral Ito benefited, to a very considerable extent, by a strategical error, due to Admiral Ting, and of the same nature as that which he himself committed in the operations at Chemulpo.
The Chinese admiral had himself decided, on September 16, to proceed to land troops, without having in the first place sought to destroy the adverse forces. There, where his rival had succeeded fully, he was to meet with a complete reverse, so true it is that only those conclusions which take account of many contingencies can be registered as truths in war.
Just as the Japanese navy was trained, disciplined, homogeneous, conscious of its own strength, so, to the same extent, the personnel of the Chinese fleet was made up of disparate elements, without either training or military education, with no binding ties, not even that which faith in a common ideal gives.
Therefore, even with equal material forces, Ito had the superiority of forces.
The Chinese admiral was at anchor on September 17, with his squadron, at the mouth of the Yalu, when the Japanese fleet was signaled; he at once got under way to approach the latter.
The two squadrons in sight were quite comparable, as well in number of ships as in their total tonnage, and also in their armament. The superior protection of the Chinese ships even very decidedly superior, for the two battleships Ting-Yuen and Chen-Yuen had belts of 355 mm. and the two cruisers Lai-Yuen and King-Yuen belts of 240 mm., while among the Japanese ships the only battleships, the already old Fuso and Hiyei, had a central redoubt was compensated by a real inferiority in speed.
These two naval forces advance against each other in very different formations. The Chinese admiral in a very open wedge formation the point of which was occupied by his strongest ships, while Admiral Ito had arranged his ships in column. Moreover this was not merely the ordinary long column of ships, but comprised in reality of two independent homogeneous divisions, or at least as homogeneous as they could be at that epoch, composed of similar ships ranged, in each of those divisions, in column.
This arrangement gave to the Japanese squadron all the advantages of flexibility of the traditional column with an increase of mobility; this same scheme of formation was to be employed ten years later, with equal success, by Admiral Togo.
At this point of our exposition, having explained the respective positions of the two forces, we are strongly reminded of something. These positions recall to us the identical ones at the battle of Lissa, double echelon with center leading on one side and column on the other; but here the roles are reversed. The column is in close order, flexible and manageable, as much as that of the Italians was open and sluggish; the compact formation is as little rigid as that of Tegethoff was resistant.
If ordinary common sense failed to do so, this actual comparison would suffice to demonstrate how little geometry counts for in the matter of battle formations.
The regular presentation of their bows to the enemy put the Chinese ships under extremely disadvantageous conditions for battle.
While the Japanese, presenting themselves broadside on by the development of their columns, had all their guns bearing, the Chinese could only use their bow guns and were thus condemned to a notable inferiority of gun fire. This inferiority was to become still greater after the first phase of the battle by reason of the very judicious dispositions taken by Admiral Ito. The latter, anxious to make up for the disadvantage of the insufficient protection of his ships, and at the same time wishing to profit by his undoubted superiority in speed and gunnery, while he kept his two columns at a distance from the enemy always greater than three thousand meters, followed a very gradually changing course, with the first division composed of the fast protected cruisers leading, so as little by little to outflank the right of the Chinese squadron. That wing, which was constituted of small cruisers of little military value, was almost immediately crushed, and the main force of Chinese battleships, turning two points to starboard to come to their assistance, destroyed all regularity in their formation; the fire of some ships became masked by others, and the battle was lost to the Chinese.
This battle of the Yalu, the description of which I shall purposely limit to this brief sketch, has given rise to much writing. Analyzed with passions and preconceived ideas inspired by reasons most often foreign to the single consideration of the technical question, it has sustained the most widely different opinions.
Later on the same thing will occur in relation to the Russo-Japanese war.
To show how necessary it is to be careful in formulating conclusions from the actual events of war, I will call attention to the fact that, from the mere consideration of this single incontestable result of the defeat of an armored squadron by another composed of only protected cruisers, the conclusion has been drawn that the day of armored ships is over.
As for us, wholly absorbed in the professional problem, and moreover knowing the importance of the associated facts, we shall avoid so superficial and hasty a judgment; but, insisting upon bur right to free discussion, at least to that which is wholly based on experience, without seeking to distort it, we shall draw from this battle a lesson which, though less definite, will not be less useful.
The crushing of the two wings successively by the turning movement of the Japanese had resulted in reducing the resisting force of the Chinese squadron to the battleships alone. Overwhelmed by the fire of the whole Japanese squadron concentrated upon them, swept by an iron storm which struck down their masts and superstructures, smashed their guns and destroyed all their means of internal communication, these unhappy ships, after an action which had lasted four hours, were reduced to a state of impotency. They were ready to receive the death stroke, without even being able to strike a last blow as they plunged to destruction, when Admiral Ito, out of ammunition, withdrew from the battle field; lacking torpedoes, we must add, which at that moment without any risk would have been able to finish the Chinese battleships. Thus, in spite of its brilliant success, the victory of the Japanese fleet was incomplete, and furthermore, though disabled to the extent of being military wrecks, the Chinese battleships still kept afloat. They floated so well, were so little injured as regards their buoyancy and in their essential parts, that a few months later they were able to serve under the flag of the conqueror.
After Punta-Agamos, Yalu reminds us that to reduce a warship we are not necessarily limited to the single and somewhat chimerical design of attacking her water-line, and finally that the limit of the capacity to resist of the personnel can be reached without destroying the buoyancy. Just like the Huascar, the Chen-Yuen and Ting-Yuen, without guns and fighting against fires, yielded to the effects of gunfire against their upper works.
Such in my opinion is the great lesson of the battle of the Yalu. This battle, which destroyed the balance of power in the Gulf of Petchili to Japan's advantage, gave the latter, from that time on, command of the sea. Thenceforth, the capture of Port Arthur by the Japanese army was merely a question of time, and with that place there would fall into the hands of the Empire of the Rising Sun one of the double gates of entry into the Celestial kingdom. The other gate, Wei-hai-Wei, remained to be taken; its conquest was the object of a combined operation of the fleet and army.
From a strictly naval point of view, the attack on Wei-hai-Wei has no other real interest for us than through the important cooperation of the Japanese torpedo-boats in the military enterprise. To tell the truth, the affair of Wei-hai-Wei was not the first entry upon the scene of these little vessels; already, in the Russo-Turkish war, they had made their proofs and shown what could be expected from these new instruments of battle when they were commanded by energetic and resolute men.
The offensive use of torpedo-boats, acting with the squadron assisting in the attack on Wei-hai-Wei, was perfectly logical. In the impossibility of the large ships approaching closely to the inner harbor without imprudently exposing themselves to the fire of the powerful batteries along the sea front, a night attack of the torpedo-boats was the only possible way to destroy what was left of the Chinese fleet.
At all events, it may be seen what a variety of ways there are of using these little vessels, and that it would be a pity to confine them exclusively to a passive role by assigning them permanent stations at the different parts of a coast to be defended. But it would be equally a mistake to assume that torpedo-boats are not weapons for coast defense. Their sea-going qualities, necessarily limited, require the proximity of safe shelters where they can take refuge in bad weather.
We shall see later on that at Tsushima the state of the sea did not allow using them during battle; so that they can not always be counted on as certain aids in purely offensive operations. They really constitute, applying Jomini's happy expression to the navy, the "defensive-offensive," and they offer proof of the correctness of the principle that the surest way to defend is to attack.
Wei-hai-Wei taken, the way to Pekin was open, and the Chinese government had nothing else to do but capitulate. Thus were justified the views of Admiral Courbet, and once more verified certain general rules of strategy that cannot with impunity be violated in the conduct of war.
If now, taking a general view of the Chinese-Japanese war, we seek to determine its character, it appears to us that, like many others, it has consecrated the influence of preparation for war, and proved its superiority over carelessness and indifference in military affairs, it has shown the importance of the morale and training of the personnel, and finally it is a guarantee that success will result from having a directing principle, a plan of operations, as opposed to absence of initial conceptions and reliance upon luck.
A firm will in the pursuit of a well-defined end will always triumph over indecision and lack of foresight.
CHAPTER IV.
THE WAR BETWEEN SPAIN AND THE UNITED STATES.
The Spanish-American war, like the one preceding it, embraces no great military facts capable of throwing by their lessons a brilliant light upon the vital problems of the constitution of fleets. Although certain consequences of the battle of Santiago, which really do not exist, have been imagined by minds imbued, perhaps, with preconceived ideas, it is really on account of its many moral lessons that this war is worthy of remembrance.
In that respect, the harvest will be rich. For no other war, perhaps, has shown to an equal degree the influence which neglect of preparation for war exercises upon the results of an armed conflict. From this point of view, we could not devote too much time to studying all its details.
It really seems as if in unhappy Spain the phenomenal carelessness concerning military organization is a sort of endemic and incurable evil, for warnings have not been wanting to her in the past. We have retained the vivid memory of the lamentable condition of the Spanish fleet at the time of the events of 1805, the incessant complaints of Villeneuve, as well as the contemptuous sarcasms of Nelson in regard to that naval force. It would appear incredible, then, that lessons so dearly paid for should not have profited that country, which, one hundred years later, was to go to battle under conditions quite the same as before. This example has an immense philosophical meaning, for us in particular; for, companions of the Spaniards in misfortune a century ago, we, at least, ought to draw moral profit from the persistent causes of their ills.
THE STRATEGIC ERROR OF SPAIN.
At the very beginning of this war, we find a strategic error on the part of the government, as we shall find a similar one at the beginning of the war between Russia and Japan; and it was this original error which, in both cases, bore with its whole adverse weight upon the conduct and the results of the war.
The Spanish government could not be unaware of the views of the United States regarding the Pearl of the Antilles. The sympathies, avowed under all circumstances, of the American people with the cause of the insurgents, the secret or open aid which was extended to them upon the Union territory; everything, up to veiled or openly expressed propositions to purchase Cuba, made several times by the American government, was of a nature to open the eyes of the most incredulous as to the actual desires of America and the dangers to Spain which would result from them.
And the latter country, when war broke out in 1898, in complete naval anarchy, had not even the excuse of having been surprised by events, for these manifestations of the state of mind of the Americans were not of recent date. As long ago as 1823, Adams, Secretary of State, wrote: "There are laws of political as well as of physical gravitation; and if an apple detached by the wind from the tree which produced it can only fall to the earth in virtue of the law of gravity, so Cuba, separated by force from her own connection with Spain, and incapable of standing alone, can only gravitate towards the North American Union, which, following the same law of nature, cannot reject her from its breast."
As may be seen, the desires were scarcely dissimulated; hence, if Spanish pride could not resolve itself to yield the island of Cuba at a good price, it was necessary to prepare a military force capable of defending it against any attempt at aggression and of holding on to it.
To defend Cuba there was a choice between two methods: either to make the coasts of that island bristle with forts and batteries, to sow the approaches of her' bays and harbors thick with torpedoes and to maintain permanently a formidable army; or, on the other hand, remembering that another great island, Great Britain, had been able to preserve throughout the wars of the past the inviolability of her territory without forts or batteries, without torpedoes and without an army, in fact, without any passive defense whatever, but wholly by the invincible might of a powerful fleet, also to prepare a navy strong enough to command respect.
If we only reflect that every aggressive move against Cuba, necessarily having to be by way of the sea, required, prior to any military operation, the conquest of maritime supremacy, without which transportation of an expeditionary force is impossible, we will quickly agree that the strategic solution of the retention of Cuba by Spain likewise depended upon that power's holding the command of the sea, and consequently, upon the building of a powerful navy.
In thus setting forth the necessary principle of what has been named the "command of the sea," we anticipate the conclusions which we shall draw from the study of history; but we can nevertheless, from now on, use the example, conclusive above all others, of Napoleon's designs against England, the sole cause of whose failure was his inability to assure the freedom of the sea.
Certain facts of the very war that we are now considering will be used later on to strengthen this argument.
The financial burden necessary to create a fleet was not so excessive that the Spanish nation, weighted down with debts as it was, would have been unable to support it. At the moment of the opening of hostilities, the American effective naval strength, in ships having a real military value, was actually five battleships of eleven to twelve thousand tons, Iowa, Indiana, Massachusetts, Texas and Oregon; two armored cruisers, New York and Brooklyn, of eight thousand tons; and eleven protected cruisers of a displacement varying from three to six thousand tons, Cincinnati, Philadelphia, Charleston, Newark, Columbia, Minneapolis, San Francisco, Olympia, Baltimore, Raleigh and Boston.
I do not mention steamships requisitioned by the Americans to serve as auxiliary cruisers, that reserve force of secondary importance being largely available at all times to both belligerents, and not requiring the patient and methodical preparation of fighting units of the first class.
To impose respect upon this surely modest fleet, it would have been sufficient to oppose to it, concentrated in Cuban waters, as homogeneous a squadron as practicable of twelve armored cruisers of twelve thousand tons, whose construction should have been the constant care of the Spanish government for more than fifteen years past. The cost of such represents a sum of three hundred million francs, to which must be added ninety millions for the protected cruisers necessary as its auxiliaries. That, however, is not all, for a fleet cannot shift for itself, especially in our times, and there are needful to it one or several bases of operations provided with abundant stores and the various requirements necessitated by the state of naval war. To be efficient, a base should be as near as possible to the theater of war; in the case we are considering the best situation by all means was on the coast of the island, at the very center of naval operations. Spain had only the difficulty of a choice between the numerous bays of the island. It is not exaggerated to compute at three hundred millions the expenditures for organizing a reliable and suitably equipped base for a squadron such as we have just described.
There would have been required, then, a total expenditure of six hundred and ninety million francs ; spread over the preceding last fifteen years it represents an annual contribution of forty-six millions. Adding two millions, absolutely necessary for the military training of the personnel, for gunnery and squadron exercises, we arrive at a total of forty-eight millions, or let us say fifty millions in round numbers, as the annual financial burden that the certainty of safeguarding her colonial interests imposed upon Spain, outside of her normal budget of expenses for maintenance.
Such a sacrifice, relatively slight, was surely possible; it would have been a tremendous economy, in view of the very great loss sustained by Spain on account of a war waged under miserable conditions as well as through the complete suppression of the revenues which she drew from her American colony and which very often had served to balance the budgets of the mother country.
Doubtless objection will be made, based upon the tremendous additions made to its navy by the United States government, after the war of 1898, that if this contest could very certainly have been avoided by the means I have just pointed out, the fatal moment of conflict between the desires of North America and the resistance of Spain would merely have been delayed. I willingly recognize it, and I am willing to admit equally that Spain, poor and in want, would not have been able long to resist the all powerful influence of the American dollar, sovereign master in the maintenance of that costly luxury, a strong navy.
But anything was better, under any circumstances, than that struggle without honor or dignity undergone by the Spanish government, and if naval strength was really beyond its means, it had only to take to itself the very just remark of Napoleon, apropos of the cession of Louisiana: "No colonies are possible without a navy" and in its turn consent to give up Cuba.
It is because these preliminary critical remarks have reference to a situation not at all peculiar to Spain that I have so readily yielded extensive consideration to them. We shall have occasion to revert to it with greater detail when we study the contingencies of possible conflicts, and to show how this example concerns to the highest degree our own country.
It is on that account particularly that I have thought it necessary to emphasize an initial political error which hampered the whole conduct of the war by its evil influence, and by itself alone brought about Spain's defeat. And if we were limited to the mere study of high strategy, we could at this point stop in our examination of the Spanish-American conflict. The causes of Spanish disasters are already sufficiently indicated, so true it is that the politics of a nation are the true inspiration of the strategy of its armies, the directing idea of its military action.
"Give me good statesmanship, and I will give you sound finance," said Baron Louis. It would be equally true to say: "Give me good statesmanship, and I will give you adequate military forces." The bond between the one and the other is indissoluble; the example of Spain is the proof to be pondered by many other nations.
THE FORCES OF SPAIN.
The Spanish navy entered upon the struggle in a condition of the most lamentable inferiority, and not alone through its insufficient material, but especially through the lack of preparation of its personnel.
It comprised four battleships of from seven to nine thousand tons, four armored cruisers of seven thousand tons, and four protected cruisers of from two to four thousand tons. Of the four battleships, two old and obsolete units, Numancia and Vittoria, are only named as a matter of form. In reality, the only real strength of the Spanish fleet was in the two battleships Pelayo and Carlos V, and especially in the very homogeneous division of the four armored cruisers Infanta Maria Teresa, Viscaya, Almirante Oquendo and Cristobal Colon; though this last was without her two heavy turret guns of 25 cm.
Although this was the case, the Spanish government, in one of the many manifestations of its stupefying incompetence in the affairs of war, heedless that the first step towards success is to seek the superiority of forces which concentration at one point alone can give, did exactly the wrong thing by dividing its own.
Under the impulsion of an energetic and bold leader, much might have been hoped from the action of a squadron formed of these six ships; at all events, it would not have been negligible, being concentrated, and, lacking other advantages, would have been able to save by its resistance the military honor of Spain. This arrangement was really planned for a moment at the beginning of the war, but it remained a project only.
This fundamental principle being violated, the two battleships placed under Admiral Camara, as we know, played no useful part in the war, and even had to suffer the ridicule of a futile sortie towards the Philippines.
As for the division of armored cruisers, the only force to which Spain was willing to prescribe a semblance of action, it was far from having the ardent and warlike chief, the leader of men whose appearance upon the scene we have above evoked.
Who is now ignorant of the lamentations of the unfortunate Cervera? Complaints, before the war, during it and after it, of the miserable condition of the material, the incapacity of the personnel, the poverty of the most essential articles, etc., protests against the orders he receives; all these weaknesses have been fully displayed and have exposed to their smallest details the faults which have made Spain incapable of victory.
That unhappy admiral knew not Billow's fine saying: "One is never whipped so long as he refuses to believe that he is."
Furthermore, this condition of moral depression in a leader invested with the redoubtable honor of a great military responsibility is no novelty to us; in Cervera we find the same state of mind which, in Villeneuve, spent itself in endless lamentations over the bad condition of his ships, the difficulties which interfered with the execution of the orders given him, etc. And what makes the resemblance still more striking is that, a century apart, the two leaders, alike brave individually, but equally incapable of effective action, found their force of protest in the single thought of a personal defense before the perhaps too severe judgment of posterity.
Upon reflection, this need not astonish us: Villeneuve and Cervera were merely the natural products of two equally feeble organizations, the French navy at the end of the eighteenth and the beginning of the nineteenth centuries and the Spanish navy at the end of the latter century. Generals-in-chief are only able to reflect the environments in which they were developed. To have men equal to becoming great leaders, there must be necessarily, except under extraordinary circumstances, schools of energy, and they were not to be found in either of the two navies referred to. The preceding philosophical observation has a very wide application, for it is a precept to be remembered always and everywhere.
As extenuating circumstances, we must by no means forget the extremely insufficient resources placed at the disposition of these two seamen, and though their poverty of action must be charged against them, the greatest part of the responsibility for the disastrous results rests beyond any doubt upon their respective governments.
At the moment when Cervera received orders to set sail, he lacked the most indispensable appliances: his ships had been unable to fill up with coal at Carthagena, his supplies of ammunition were incomplete; there was nothing, even to charts of the West Indian seas, that was not wanting on his ships.
The letters of Admiral Cervera, from which I shall frequently quote, are taken from the interesting translation published in the Revue Maritime by Commander Mourre.
Under date of March 3, 1898, the admiral wrote to his Minister: "My reflections which so painfully affect you are doubtless very grievous, and yet perhaps I am short of the whole truth! A proof of this is the lack of money which makes the acquisition of cartridges for the Colon difficult, and this on the eve of war against the richest nation in the world. Even here, when it is a question of reloading the empty fourteen-centimeter cases, I have been told that it is impossible…No matter what the occasion, our lack of resources, the absence of organization, IN A WORD THE WANT OF PREPARATION, is immediately apparent."
Let us compare with this the letter which Villeneuve wrote to the Minister Decres on January 7, 1805.
"My dear General, I have ceased to write you private letters because I have thought this method bothered you and I fear nothing so much as being a burden. I wrote thus to you on my arrival at Toulon and you did not answer me. It is true that I ask for money with good reasons, to which it suited you not to reply."
The likeness, as may be seen, is striking. To the too well founded remonstrances of Admiral Cervera, the Minister of Marine finds only these words of reply: "…Your calculations do not take account of the difference which exists between homogeneous crews, trained and disciplined, and the mercenaries of the United States"
We know this refrain; it has served and will again serve the ministers of all countries to make a sentimental and passionate diversion, instead of replying to often embarrassing questions as to the condition of the naval material.
To understand what it was worth in the case of Spain, it suffices to know a little anecdote which was related to me by a person worthy of belief, and which goes back to the acceptance trials of the Cristobal Colon. The trials of this cruiser, built by Ansatdo at Genoa, had been conducted by the constructor's men and had gone along most satisfactorily up to the time established by the contract when the machinery was to be put in charge of the ship's regular crew. On that day the watch of Spanish firemen had just replaced the contractor's men in the fire rooms, when the enticing sound of the signal for the crew's dinner was heard. With a touching unanimity, the firemen immediately abandoned their furnaces, powerless to resist the call to food and the provoking image of the cigarette which was to follow it. There was a discipline beyond the possibility of characterization.
The analogy to which I referred above is not merely accidental, it is complete. Villeneuve wrote again, on his return from the sortie from Toulon on January 18, 1805, m the letter from which I have already quoted: "Fortune did not fail me on this occasion for if I had been sighted by the English squadron, it would have been impossible for me to escape it, and even with inferior forces, it would have completely routed us."
And the following day he adds: "I beg you to remember that I did not desire the command of this squadron…I very earnestly pray that the Emperor may not commit any of his squadrons to the hazard of events…I should be greatly pleased if the Emperor would relieve me from the command." Later he was to write from Cadiz on August 22, 1805: "I have been unable to perceive any good whatever in the campaign I was to undertake. I would pardon the whole world for casting stones at me; but naval people in Paris and in the bureaus who join in doing so will be very blind, very contemptible and above all very foolish."
Cervera, likewise, despairs before he has made any trial; he makes numerical calculations showing the crushing superiority of the Americans, he complains of the poverty of his ships, he proclaims the certainty of his defeat. Later, at Santiago, he will express, just as Villeneuve did, his indignation at the views of his colleagues in Madrid, as well as his desire to be replaced, to see "the cup of responsibility taken from his lips," a terrible phrase, for it is the courage to take responsibility which makes great leaders; in fact, imitating his precursor, he does all things which can stifle what little moral force the Spanish navy may still have, but none of the things necessary to revive its flagging energies.
Admiral Cervera to General Blanco, Santiago, June 27: "I am of opinion that there are many seamen more skilful than myself, and it is regrettable that one of them cannot come to take command of the squadron, in which I would remain as a subordinate."
It is not for artistic effect that I have called attention to this curious parallel between two personalities of which one, after the lapse of a century, is the image of the other. What I have really aimed at is to bring into comparison two systems, or more exactly, for these two systems are one and the same, I have tried to bring out the fact that in different surroundings, times and circumstances, and with very different instruments, the same results were produced by the same cause, unpreparedness.
And in the two cases, in 1805 as well as in 1898, there exists, as a matter of fact, but one single cause for the final disaster, the absence of preparation for war, which betrays itself in the bad condition of ships, the lack of resources of all sorts, the poverty of the crews, their lack of instruction and training, and what may be summed up as military weakness.
CERVERA'S SQUADRON.
In Spain's case there was one more aggravation, and a tremendous one, at that. Villeneuve at least knew what his Emperor desired; he knew it only too well. We have considered at its proper place Napoleon's strategic plan, which had at least the immense merit of existing. As for Cervera, he, when setting out for the West Indies, is ignorant of the motives for his departure, does not know what is expected of him and of his squadron. Beyond doubt this is because his government was equally ignorant. All that part of the official correspondence which refers to the matter is worth recalling, to serve as a real lesson in affairs, a mournful lesson. "Cadiz, April 4, Admiral Cervera to the Minister: Having no instructions, it would seem well that I proceed to Madrid to obtain them and to fix upon a plan of campaign." And the Minister replies: "In the midst of this international crisis, it is impossible to formulate anything precise."
What the Minister neglects to say is that it would be impossible to make a more explicit confession of incompetence. Thus in the councils of the Spanish government nothing was foreseen, nothing planned. The question was not even asked what should be done in case facts gave the lie to their optimistic anticipations. They let themselves be surprised by the war as by a sudden flash of lightning out of a clear sky. This is inexcusable, for the storm which then rumbled had been gathering slowly, beginning as a cloud at the opening of the century and growing day by day. It is therefore a very true saying that nations suffer only the misfortunes they deserve.
The unhappy admiral protests once more before leaving Cadiz: "Allow me to insist upon the necessity of agreeing upon a general plan of campaign, in order to avoid fatal vacillations. The government doubtless has its plan, and it is indispensable that I should be informed of it, so as to be able to co-operate with it efficiently."
That the government's plan had no existence is beyond any doubt, and the reply made to the admiral proves it: "The urgency of your departure prevents for the moment making known to you the plan which you ask for. You will have it in all its details a few days after your arrival at Cape Verd, by a steamer loaded with coal which will follow you."
What is there then more important than for the executor of the government's will to know at the crisis of the game what is expected of him and where he is to go? The shocking discrepancy between the great importance of war orders and their expedition by a collier shows well that the minister sheltered himself behind the dilatory formula to-morrow, as convenient for governments as for individuals in an embarrassing situation.
From the Cape Verd islands, Cervera returns again to the attack: "I request precise instructions for the contingency of war not having been officially declared at my departure" And this was the incredible reply: "I am unable to give you more precise instructions."
Finally, before definitely starting for the West Indies, the commander of the Spanish squadron writes anew, after complaining of the poor condition of the ordnance: "At the end of all there is neither plan nor agreement such as I have so much wished and vainly proposed…and so already disaster is upon us."
It might appear that I am wasting time in formulating comments of the nature of truisms concerning these official documents of a history written scarcely seven years ago. But when we think that less than six years after these events a nation, Russia, disposing of much more formidable resources than Spain, was to give to the astonished world the spectacle of the same blunders, of identical errors, of similar weaknesses, we must recognize that certain truths, however evident they may appear, have need to be repeated over and over again in order to be understood by nations that have not yet undergone the trial of war, or have forgotten its teachings.
In view of the fact that the principal Spanish force was so unfortunately constituted, it may well be asked, what could be the object of the government in sending it to the West Indies? Opposed to very much superior forces, this squadron evidently could not have any pretention to seizing upon command of the sea by force. Was it intended, then, to limit its role to a continuing threat against the American naval forces, and to employ it as a fleet in being, to adopt the expression first used by Admiral Torrington after the battle of Beachy Head, and used again with great good judgment by Mahan in his critical study of this very Spanish-American war? In principle, the use in war of the fleet in being is perfectly defensible for the weaker nation, and, for the matter of that, the squadron constituted as it was would have admirably played that part, if the real value of its units, which were all fast cruisers, had faithfully represented its theoretical value.
Unhappily this was very far from being the case; the speed of .these four ships, splendid on paper, was purely fictitious, on account of the incapacity of the engine room and fire-room forces, as well as because the machinery had not been kept in proper repair. And that is not all; the essence of a "fleet in being," its sole raison d’être, is its mobility; it is by this precious quality of being able to appear now at one point and now at another point of the theater of war that it constitutes a threat serious enough to paralyze any operations of wide scope on the part of its adversary.
The truth of this was exemplified on June 8, when the American expedition was ready to set sail for Santiago; for a telegram, bringing the information, quite untrue moreover, that a group of suspicious ships had been seen off the north coast of Cuba, was enough to cause the order to sail to be countermanded, so that the departure did not take place actually until six days later. The effect produced by this false news was so great that the government did not hesitate to order Sampson to send two of his battleships to Key West; as a matter of fact, however, the commander-in-chief of the naval forces did not obey this order, and he did well not to. But this mobility, this intensity of life is only possible nowadays during very short periods, at the ends of which, under penalty of breaking down, our modern ships are obliged, by the inexorable necessities of their constitutions, to return to port for supplies, in the shape of coal and renewals of all sorts. And this means, in the last analysis, that, for a "fleet in being," a base of operations, abundantly provided with the varied stores without which the war ships of the 2Oth century are but inanimate carcasses, is at least as necessary as it is for an offensive fleet.
But there was no such base for Cervera's fleet. The most indispensable supply, coal, was so stingily measured out to him, that even before he had reached his destination, the Spanish government, through various channels, announced to the admiral by telegrams the successive sending of five thousand tons to Curasao and of two English steamers, each carrying three thousand tons, to Martinique. Cervera never received them, and moreover it was too late; it is not when operations have begun, and everything is made difficult and complicated as a result of hostilities, that it becomes necessary to think of procuring necessary supplies; it is during the time of peace that it is useful to accumulate them at judiciously selected points. No one would think, in private life, of waiting till the storm bursts and the tempest begins to rage before building himself a shelter; it is during the prior period of fine weather that each one takes his precautions.
It does not seem any more difficult to admit that for this storm of war, more terrible than any other, it is wise to proceed in the same manner.
Thenceforth, what could be hoped for from this starveling squadron, on a fruitless chase after fuel; what reserve of energy was to be expected from the hunger stricken? If the choice of Santiago for the squadron's destination was a strategical error, that was a fault of small moment and a consequence of the veritable error, that irreparable one which entailed the defeat of Spain lack of preparation for war.
Certainly it would have been better had Cervera led his squadron to Havana, the attack upon which would have demanded from the American expeditionary forces a much greater effort than at Santiago, on account of the more important resources of every nature possessed by the former place, and which it is not excessive to estimate at fully ten thousand men; or even at Cienfuegos, which is connected by railroad with Havana. But one must not lose sight of the constant preoccupation of the Spanish admiral to get his forces into shape, and, in the absence of precise orders from his government, it was the port where he hoped to be able to do this the soonest and the easiest that he selected.
He intended, moreover, to set forth again on the very next day, his coal once aboard; but the difficulties of coaling prevented. There is in this example warning of the far reaching importance of having bases and coaling stations equipped with all necessary machinery and apparatus.
To appreciate the result of this unfortunate choice, we need only glance at a few quotations. On May 19, the very day of his arrival at Santiago, the admiral telegraphed to his Minister: "I shall have need of more coal than there is in this port; "and his chief of staff, Commander Concas, in the account which he wrote of the squadron's movements, expresses himself thus: "We set to work taking in coal with frenzy; but everything is wanting, even baskets, and the difficulties are such that, even with the help of working parties of soldiers, we do no more than a hundred and fifty tons a day, and each ship, with fires out, burns from four to five tons in the same time."
This truly is black despair, and despair is a poor counselor.
On May 22, Cervera again telegraphed: "There is not enough coal here to fill us up, but, if the collier which left Curasao arrives, there will be some left over."
Nothing is lacking to this distress, not even the hopeless watch, which, like Sister Ann's, catches no glimpse of that coal ever announced by the government and which never comes. At that very moment there were nearly thirty thousand tons at Havana, and this observation only makes the clearer Cervera's error in choosing Santiago.
This question of the best destination for the Spanish squadron has supplied material for numerous controversies; some have pretended that Santiago was well chosen because it removed the American action the furthest possible from their base of operations, Key West, while Havana was much nearer to it. Knowing as we do now what a poor leader Cervera was, we may well doubt the depth of intention which is attributed to him. The sole and only cause of his entry into Santiago was his anxious haste to coal, a desire shown also by his stopping at Martinique, and then at Curasao, as he had anticipated before leaving Cape Verd, without allowing the state of war to modify in any way his plan. Having neither the means, nor the idea either, of resorting to scouting to obtain information as to the enemy's movements, he entered Santiago quite simply because that port was the first on his route.
It is himself who tells us so, moreover, for he wrote on May 25, to General Linares: "It is regrettable that my bad luck brought me to this port which is so destitute of resources, and that I chose it thinking, since it had not been blockaded, that it would be well supplied with provisions, coal and various stores"
All the more or less profound combinations which have been attributed to him are purely imaginary. I repeat it Havana would have been much preferable, in spite of its proximity to Key West, not only because the squadron would have found there resources which did not exist elsewhere, but because by that course Spain would have brought about a concentration of her forces of all kinds. The governor of the island had an army at the seat of government, which his adversaries estimated at fifty thousand men, but which really could have been brought to twice that number. In estimating at one hundred thousand men the force which the Americans would have needed to reduce Havana, I believe I am really below the mark. I have the right to think so, and even to express some doubts as to their being successful at all, when I remember the many disgraceful events of the so much more modest expedition which was made against Santiago, the scenes of disorder when the expeditionary force was being assembled, and its singularly heterogeneous composition.
It is certainly curious to note that, if Cervera had made for Havana, or Cienfuegos, no hostile force would have been able to oppose his entrance, since neither Schley nor Sampson happened to be there the day when the Spanish division would have arrived.
By shutting himself up in Santiago, on the contrary, Cervera, completely destitute, by that very act put an end to his "fleet in being," and permitted the American fleet to possess itself of command of the sea by strictly blockading him there. After that it was at least as much the extreme distress which I have above explained as the criminal pressure from a government under the influence of I know not what political aim, ignorant of military necessities and devoid both of sincerity and intelligence, which determined the Spanish squadron to effect its heart-rending departure.
On May 24, after holding a council of war of his commanders, Cervera telegraphed to the minister: "The squadron being ready to leave port to seek elsewhere supplies which are lacking here, I have consulted the commanding officers." Their opinion being adverse to going out, on account of the reduced speed of the squadron (fourteen knots, due to the foul condition of the Viscaya's hull), they did not start, and on the next day found themselves blockaded. And it is necessary to state that, in the deliberations of the council of war, the possibility of righting, even a partial engagement, or even of any military operation whatever, was never so much as glanced at. One single objective exists, flight towards another shelter. A sad state of mind which explains the defeat to come.
This thought is again found in the same letter to General Linares from which I have already quoted a passage: "In thinking of the probable upshot of a blockade, I consider myself fortunate to be able thus to occupy the greatest part of the enemy's fleet, for it is the only service that can be expected of a squadron so small and so ill armed. I beg you to make these explanations known to the Captain-General, in order that he may understand the cause of my apparent inaction."
What poverty of military understanding! And what a strange conception by which the act of kindly offering to an adversary, without a struggle, full liberty of movement and what we already understand as command of the sea, is made to appear as a service rendered to his own cause!
On May 25, the squadron has only provisions for one month, and on June 20 General Blanco telegraphs to the Minister of War: "The entry of Cervera's squadron into Santiago and its stay there have completely changed both the objective of the campaign and its aspect, and thereby also the value of the provisions and coal on hand and the supplies of certain places…It would be better perhaps to go to Cienfuegos or Havana, which is still possible, or even better to start for Spain; anything rather than to remain shut up in Santiago, exposed to the necessity of surrendering, starved out."
So then hunger is to chase the squadron from its refuge; but not hunger alone. Interferences from without, ill-omened as are all those which emanate from an authority far removed from the scene of events, are to drive forth, against its will, this unhappy squadron and to precipitate the inevitable disaster.
In this same letter from which I have just borrowed an extract the governor of Cuba asks for supreme authority over all the military forces of the island. This demand is beyond any doubt legitimate and conforms with the true principles of war as well as with the efficient use of forces, which requires an undivided authority to command them, but he only demands these powers to misuse them and from a distance to weigh upon the admiral.
"It is unfortunate," says General Blanco, "that the independence enjoyed by Cervera's squadron has prevented my interfering with its movements, and I have suffered therefrom…I respectfully suggest that this is a favorable moment for unifying military action in the present war by giving me the authority of commander-in-chief over all the land and sea forces on these shores."
The ministerial despatch, conferring upon the governor the higher powers which he requested, is dated June 24, and on the following day the pressure begins by a despatch in cypher addressed to General Linares:
"I am of the opinion that he (Cervera) ought to set out as quickly as possible for the destination which he considers the most suitable, for his stay in port is the most dangerous of all things…To lose the squadron without fighting would have a terrible effect in Spain and everywhere."
The accuracy of the final reflection is incontestable, but the responsibility for this lamentable result must rest upon a higher authority than the unfortunate admiral; more than anything else the improvidence of the Spanish government was responsible, an improvidence which would be incredible were it not proven by
official documents.
General Blanco returns to the charge, several times, on succeeding
days, becoming each time more pressing and at last, having
obtained the approval of the government at Madrid, giving the
order to depart three times on July I and finally an imperative
order on July 2.
To understand the exact extent of the pressure put on Cervera,
it suffices to consider the words spoken at one of the meetings
of the council of war of commanders of the Spanish squadron, that of May 26, by Commanders Bustamente and Concas. Both state that they believe in their soul and conscience that the government at Madrid wishes the destruction of the squadron, in order to have an excuse for concluding a peace.
"It is necessary then," says Commander Concas, "to go forth, not because it is reasonable, but because later on, under conditions probably worse, we shall without doubt receive a formal order to do so."
We have already had occasion to point out, in occurrences of war, certainly less serious than these, the pernicious influence experienced by the untimely interference of a central authority in the details of the conduct of war. In this tendency of governments to wish to direct operations from a great distance away, a tendency greatly accentuated by the facilities of all sorts which modern progress affords for the rapid transmission of orders, I perceive a great danger for the future. That is why I thought it right to revert to the subject. The true doctrine, without any possible doubt, is that formulated by Napoleon, and every general-in-chief who has proper understanding of his responsibilities ought to be guided by it.
Although in the domain of strategy the largest part of the errors committed must be blamed upon the Spanish government, the responsibility for the tactical errors of the desperate sortie from Santiago belongs wholly to Cervera. The official correspondence, with which we already are acquainted, has revealed to us the remarkable state of mind of the commander-in-chief of the Spanish squadron, as well as of most of his captains, relative to their departure; there was for them no question of fighting, selling their lives dearly, and at least offering to their poor country the alms of a little glory; their one thought was to flee.
This fixed idea may be discovered in a despatch from Cervera to the Minister, dated June 23: "As it is absolutely impossible for the squadron to escape tinder these circumstances, I expect to make as good a resistance as possible, and then as a final resort to destroy my ships."
The question is more and more, why did the Spanish send war ships to the West Indies when their commander perceived no other result than either flight or suicide? What then is a war ship, if it is not an instrument to fight with?
But in any case, assuming Cervera's point of view, that is to say, seeking to gain a better provisioned port than Santiago for the purpose of refitting, it is impossible to understand why he did not make that sortie at night. In the council of war of June 8, Commanders Bustamente and Concas had expressed the opinion that they should go out by night, taking advantage of the period of absence of the moon. On June 26, the government itself recommended to Cervera this night attempt; but such a maneuver is too bold for the poor weak soul of the commander-in-chief. It is the characteristic of his moral feebleness to evoke phantoms, to see difficulties everywhere. One night he ascends to the high battery of Socapa, and the sight of the American ships on the blockading line, with their search lights turned on the entrance, is sufficient to make him despair of any possible success. Those luminous rays, across the darkness, take in his fevered eyes the fantastic appearance of insurmountable barriers. Not once does he say to himself that a resolute attack is by itself a chance, that it necessarily produces in a line of blockade a disturbance from which advantage can be drawn, that a blockading ring by night is not so unyielding that it cannot be broken at one point and a sufficient disorder made there to prevent its reforming before an escape has been effected, that in such a disorder nothing is more like a friendly ship than a hostile one, and that this confusion profits above all the attack; finally that a night battle is too indefinite not to be advantageous to the weaker.
For him the chance of success remains hidden in the dark shadows of the night; but in revenge he perceives the difficulties, all the difficulties, as through magnifying glasses. The narrowness of the channel, which obliges the ships to go out one by one; the impossibility of passing through it under the blinding light of the enemy's search lights without going aground; the opinion of the pilots that the Colon's draft makes his going out more difficult, etc.: all the pretexts are put forward and exaggerated to mask the sole true motive of the choice of going out by day.
And this motive is given to us by Cervera himself in his letter of justification of October 7, 1898, addressed from Madrid to General Blanco: "Counting as I did, on a fatal disaster, my task was reduced to having the smallest possible number killed and to not leaving the ships in the hands of the enemy." This letter was not published till 1900; but I have kept an exact remembrance of the quite accordant statement made early in 1899 in my presence, to the Minister of Marine, by a Spanish officer: "We went out in broad daylight so as to let the greatest possible number of men save themselves when we ran aground."
From this sample it may be seen that if Spain knew not how to prepare her material forces for war, neither was she any more foresighted as regards her moral forces. Let us pause for a moment over one last quotation, taken from Commander Concas' memoir, from the chapter devoted to the battle of Santiago: "On the practical side of gunnery, the enemy, who for two years has been preparing for war, has had frequent exercises; moreover, the bombardments of Porto Rico, Santiago and Daiquiri have enabled him to correct the defects in his material.
"For our part, the 28 c.m. guns have fired in all two rounds apiece and what is frightful, on account of the little confidence we have in our cartridges, the 14 c.m. guns have never been tested and their first rounds are to be fired at the enemy. Except that, our ships are in perfect condition and as regards training are second to none in any navy in the world."
To use one of this officer's own expressions, what is above all frightful is to find in his account this sort of testimonial given as to the material and moral condition of the squadron after having ascertained its destitution of all which constitutes preparedness for war. Except for the guns, except for gunnery and target practice, except for trained gunners, except that, all is well; but that is the whole of war, because war is settled by battle. With officers in such a state of mind, which is but the image of the national mind, a nation is ripe for defeat.
THE CONDUCT OF THE AMERICANS.
Hitherto I have entirely disregarded the part played by the Americans in the war; this because, as I have already pointed out, its final result is almost wholly due to Spain's weakness, and because, in my opinion, the complete lack of preparation of her military forces, using the term in its broadest sense, is a full explanation of the war. The superiority of the Americans, which in the main resulted from the poor quality of their adversaries, was made apparent by plans, often doubtful, and sometimes incorrect, from the point of view of the theory of war, but easily rectified under the most favorable circumstances.
On this account I have been unable to understand the great admiration which Commodore Dewey's operations in the Philippines evoked, in his own country particularly, but also in many other countries.
The naval forces once in sight of each other, the disproportion was such that their encounter could only be butchery, not battle. Between the modern protected cruisers of the American squadron, of high speed and armed with powerful guns of 8-inch and 6-inch caliber, and the old fashioned Spanish ships, without speed or armament (for the Reina Christina alone had 16 cm. guns, the others having nothing bigger than 13 cm. and 12 cm.), the struggle was too unequal for the issue to be doubtful.
The battle of Cavite, therefore, has very little interest for us, and I shall confine my examination of it to a single brief observation. As though there were not enough elements of weakness in the very constitution of his fleet, Admiral Montojo added to them another, worse than all the rest, by awaiting at anchor the enemy's approach. He had forgotten Aboukir, or rather he exhibited, like so many others before him, the incurable physical and moral inactivity of the weak.
It was simple: the Americans, having retained their ability to maneuver, passed back and forth in column before the anchorage, at the distance they had chosen and which they controlled, with their guns playing on the Spanish ships. It was a target practice, a gunnery exercise with stationary target, and here again the true lesson to be learned from this encounter concerns the inveterate weakness of the Spanish sailors much more than the strength of their opponents.
In the matter of the armed intervention of the Americans in the Philippines, on the other hand, there is much of interest to be said, for in that a fundamental principle of strategy is concerned.
The utility of operations in the Far East was more than doubtful. It must not be lost sight of, in fact, that the precise object of the war was the success of the century-old politics of the United States in Cuba; it had no other object. Every measure capable of endangering the success of operations in Cuban waters was therefore essentially bad; and such was the maintenance in the Philippines of a not inconsiderable part of the American naval forces, which, violating the principle of concentration of forces, weakened, without any advantage, the military action in the chief scene of the theater of war.
Doubtless, against such weakness of mind and body as were Spain's, much could be permitted; but organisms which are the most exhausted by sickness sometimes have redoubtable death struggles. If, instead of sending four forlorn unhappy ships to the West Indies, under the orders of a new Villeneuve, Spain had placed all her available forces in the hands of an enterprising chief, to lead them to the West Indies and there to sell dearly the honor of the Spanish arms, the United States would have had none too great a force to make head against them and finally conquer. Therefore it was in the West Indian seas that Dewey's squadron should have been and not anywhere else.
To judge still better the question, it suffices to observe that all the military successes possible in the Philippines would have had no sort of effect upon the issue, if the arms of the United States had been unable to triumph in Cuba. The operations at the latter point were the only ones which answered to the aims of the war, and it was their success, consummated by the destruction of Cervera's fleet, which brought about peace, on the conqueror's terms; they would have equally entailed the surrender of the Philippines by Spain if not a shot had been fired there.
This does not merely demonstrate the strategical error of the Americans; it also lays bare the absurdity of the Camara undertaking, which never got beyond Suez; and, from a quite general point of view, calls attention to the pressing need of not having a scattering of objectives but, on the contrary, knowing how to choose from the always complicated grouping of interests in the vast field of war the one which is the most important.
Apropos of monitors, which he very rightly condemns, Mahan has very happily recalled, in his work, Lessons of the War with Spain, a splendid maxim of Napoleon which the American author considers to be pregnant of the whole art and practice of war. It applies even better, in my opinion, to what we have just seen of the strategic plans of the Spanish-American war. It is this "Exclusiveness of purpose is the secret of great successes and of great operations."
Dewey's cruisers would have been so much the more useful in the West Indian sea because, as Mahan very clearly shows, the lookout and scouting service of the American squadrons was very defective. Thus it is that Cervera's squadron was able to gain Curasao and Santiago without being sighted by the American cruisers, even though notice of its appearance off Martinique had been telegraphed on May 12 to the United States government from the auxiliary cruiser Harvard, which was undergoing repairs at Fort de France. Even more, the Spanish squadron entered Santiago on the 19th, and it was not until the 26th that Commodore Schley established the blockade of that port; nor did he obtain from spies exact information of the actual presence of Spanish ships in the harbor till some days later.
Yet it would have been very advantageous to the American naval forces to have come into contact with the Spanish squadron at the earliest possible moment. The battleship Oregon, having started from San Francisco before the declaration of war, arrived in the Atlantic in the midst of the hostilities. As she had left Bahia on May 9, while the Spanish squadron was to the southward of Martinique on the 10th, an attack upon this single vessel by the very superior forces of the enemy was possible and to be feared. Her destruction or capture would have been a very appreciable loss to the American navy, not only as being a notable weakening of military strength, the battleship in question constituting a very powerful righting unit, but still more on account of the moral effect upon the whole nation.
I have just said that this attempt on the part of Cervera was to be feared; such was the very firm opinion of Mahan himself. Hence re-enforcements should have been sent to meet the American battleship, keeping a close watch upon the movements of the Spanish squadron; or more exactly, for this would have been much the most decisive aid to bring to the Oregon, it was needful to get in touch with the hostile naval force, to fight and destroy it, in a word to cling to what the learned American writer himself calls "the great objective which dominates all others and replaces them, the hostile naval force, when a reasonable chance offers of destroying it or one of its powerful parts."
The same author explains the abstention of the government at Washington from initiating a strategical operation logically called for, as due to fear of newspaper indiscretions. This very weak explanation would be surprising from the pen of so wise a writer, if the perception of his natural indulgence regarding the errors of his own country did not explain why he believed it proper to throw a veil over the real motives. And these motives arose almost wholly from a scarcity of cruisers, which once again rendered the organization of search and scouting very difficult.
The timidity of their adversaries, whose plans never for an instant were directed towards offensive action, even when they had a great superiority of force, as in the exceptional case of the Oregon, nullified the possible consequences of this error; nevertheless it was an error.
As a matter of fact, the American navy during this critical period could only appropriate to the scouting service four auxiliary cruisers, the St. Louis, St. Paul, Harvard and Yale, and two regular cruisers, the Minneapolis and Columbia. It was a small force with which to cover the approaches to the West Indies, and all the places where Cervera might appear. Thus the Navy Department was obliged to have recourse to torpedo boats for picket service, and this, according to Mahan himself, "to the great hurt of their engines, not intended for long-continued high exertion, and to their own consequent injury for their particular duties."
I have underlined purposely part of the preceding paragraph, for it is not the American navy alone that deserves to be reproached with giving employment for which they are not at all suitable to vessels of small tonnage "liable to serious retardation in a seaway," and with thus forgetting the application of the principle of specialization in warfare.
THE BLOCKADE OF SANTIAGO.
That simulacrum of naval force, Cervera's squadron, having taken refuge in Santiago, the problem became a very simple one.
Taking inspiration, according to Mahan, "from the true general principle that the enemy's fleet, if there is any probable way of getting at it, is the objective which takes precedence of all others, because control of the sea by the overthrow of the hostile navy is the determining factor in naval warfare," there was nothing left to do but institute a close blockade.
The beginning of this blockade is also the beginning of really correct operations on the part of the United States naval forces. It is interesting to reproduce some of Admiral Sampson's orders, which will be read with profit provided the particular and exceptional circumstances under which they were written, as well as the far too unaggressive character of the defense, be not for a moment lost sight of.
The admiral had divided his forces into two squadrons, keeping command of the first and giving the second to Commodore Schley.
June 2, 1898: "The vessels will blockade Santiago de Cuba closely, keeping about six miles from the Morro in the daytime, and closing in at night, the lighter vessels well in shore. The first squadron will blockade on the east side of the port, and the second squadron on the west side. If the enemy tries to escape, the ships must close and engage as soon as possible, and endeavor to sink his vessels or force them to run ashore in the channel. It is not considered that the shore batteries are of sufficient power to do any material injury to battleships.
"In smooth weather the vessels will coal on station. If withdrawn to coal elsewhere or for other duty, the blockading vessels on either side will cover the angle thus left vacant."
The characteristic of this order is the feeling which it reflects of absolute security from any demonstration whatever on the part of the enemy; it is much more like an order concerning an exercise of times of peace than a war-time order. The admiral who signed it could certainly afford to do so, for so far as the batteries in particular are concerned, we find justification in the letter already referred to from Cervera to General Blanco written from Madrid: "Santiago was without artillery, in the modern sense of the word. Except for the guns of the Mercedes, mounted in the Socapa and Punta-Gorda batteries, there were only two p c. m. Krupp guns; useless against ships, and some howitzers and obsolete guns; so the enemy approached without fear, coming very close at night and taking stations around the entrance." Does not the mere fact of coaling on station indicate the full measure of a quite justifiable confidence.
"Order No. 13, June 7, 1898. After careful consideration of the various schemes of maintaining an effective blockade of Santiago de Cuba at night which have been advanced, I have decided upon the following, which will be maintained until further orders:
"The weather permitting, three (3) picket launches detailed from the ships of the squadron each evening, will occupy positions 1 mile from the Morro one to the eastward, one to the westward, and one to the southward of the harbor entrance. On a circle drawn with a radius of two miles from the Morro will be stationed three vessels, the Vixen to the westward, from one-half mile to 1 mile from the shore, the Suwanee south of the Morro, and the Dolphin to the eastward, between one-half mile and 1 mile from the shore. The remaining vessels will retain the positions already occupied, but they will take especial care to keep within a 4-mile circle.
"All vessels may turn their engines whenever desirable to keep them in readiness for immediate use, and while so doing may turn in a small circle, but without losing proper bearing or distance. "The signal for an enemy will be two red Very signals burned in rapid succession. If the enemy is a torpedo-boat these two red lights will be followed by a green one.
"I again call attention to the absolute necessity of a close blockade of this port, especially at night and in bad weather. In the daytime, if clear, the distance shall not be greater than 6 miles; at night or in thick weather, not more than 4 miles. The end to be attained justifies the risk of torpedo attacks and that risk must be taken. The escape of the Spanish vessels at this juncture would be a serious blow to our prestige and to a speedy end of the war."
In carefully reading this order, one would think himself in a dream, and the mind inevitably reverts to those squadron exercises in which certain accepted hypotheses are unreal because the conditions of war are only feigned. But this concerns reality. In what peace-time exercises would one dare to allow as practicable such a stationing of three small boats, and the placing of ships on a line of blockade at so short a distance from the shore? Yet these were operations against an enemy. But what an enemy! It would seem impossible to imagine that one so easy to deal with could ever be found, if an actual example had not just shown us that passive fatalism can be found among all races. Lacking cannon, are there not then torpedoes or torpedo-boats at Santiago, to forbid to the blockaders so reckless an attitude? No, there is nothing, and Cervera himself tells us so under date of June 20: "Six sevenths of the 14 c.m. ammunition is unserviceable; the primers are unreliable and there are no torpedoes. These are the principal needs."
This official Spanish correspondence truly contains terrible ironies: These are the principal needs. But, if those needs are not supplied, it is life which departs, for they are the very soul of the struggle. If there are neither cannon nor torpedoes, at least Santiago still holds men, rifles and boats; they might attempt to take by assault those three American boats, were it only to take up the constant gage of which they are the symbol. But for this it is necessary to act, and the Spaniards dread action. It is therefore very true that Sampson has nothing more to worry about; for him have been fashioned adversaries who, as I have already observed, constitute by their own weakness nine-tenths of his strength and with their own hands prepare for him victory.
As it is absolutely inadmissible to count upon similar chances in the future, I should not have dwelt upon the dispositions taken in the blockade of Santiago, if I had not thought it useful to show once more to what a lamentable degree of feebleness a country may attain when it has not long and painstakingly prepared for war.
Others of Sampson's orders prescribe the use of search lights to illuminate the entrance of the channel, and regulate their employment as well as the method of keeping watch of the ships; finally they reduce to four miles the station distance.
This period of blockade, a true blockade of "petty warfare," furnishes matter for but two useful observations. The American squadron conducted numerous bombardments, expending ammunition to no account; just as in an operation of the same kind, and a perfectly useless one, previously carried on at San Juan, they obtained no results of value. And yet there was no energetic response to interfere with the bombarding gunfire. The Spanish forts, so ill equipped, replied little or not at all. What should be remembered is the waste of ammunition, out of all proportion with the result to be expected, which an attack by ships upon coast batteries entails, when the latter are sufficiently elevated, as at Santiago.
The second fact relates to the Merrimac's attempt to "bottle up" the Spanish squadron. It is interesting because it was the first of the kind, those more numerous attempts which we shall have occasion to note in studying the blockade of Port Arthur having been modeled upon it. Though it failed, for the sunken wreck on one side of the channel has never prevented the navigation of the passage, the principle itself of the attempt is a serious argument against naval ports with a single entrance or too narrow a one, and a warning in any event to provide for them an outer watch and defense service rendering any sort of surprise impossible. Without any doubt, such an operation is extremely delicate, and this is proved by the fact that the gallant Lieutenant Hobson, despite exceptional circumstances, never likely to arise again, which allowed him to reach the narrowest part of the passage without being seriously interfered with, was unable to succeed. But the luck may be better another time, and the accident of success is so much to be dreaded that too many precautions cannot be taken to prevent it.
Of the military expedition from Tampa to Santiago, I shall say nothing here. Of a truth it would not be well to seek there anything to imitate, but much rather examples to avoid. In this connection a new proof may be found of the wholly relative value of superiority of forces. Against a nation less inactive than Spain, less flabby, according to President Roosevelt's strong expression, there would have been great probabilities of a radical change of fortune in this war to the prejudice of the Americans.
I have gathered from the lips of a Frenchman present in Santiago during the whole siege some striking facts regarding the respective situations of the two armies. At the moment of Santiago's capitulation, the Spanish troops still had ammunition and rations for six months; on the American side yellow fever had already produced such ravages that the volunteers of the expeditionary force were arrogantly demanding to be sent home. To explain under these conditions the unexpected denouement, now a matter of history, it is necessary to refrain from attributing it to the military forces, and to recollect that effective strength in war is not composed of material forces alone; it also comprises financial forces, visible or concealed.
THE SORTIE OF THE SPANISH SQUADRON.
I come to the decisive moment; the attempt of Cervera's squadron to escape from Santiago. It would be superfluous to enumerate all the details of this sortie, or more exactly this flight.
Where there is no intention of fighting, at least on one side, there cannot be matter for a tactical discussion; what the maneuver was is well known, the passing out of the Spanish cruisers in column; the despairing flight to the westward, at much reduced speed (less than fourteen knots) for theoretically fast ships, since battleships like the Oregon gained on them; finally the voluntary running ashore.
The action was neither more nor less than a target practice carried on by the American ships against a moving target, with scarcely more risks than those of a gunnery drill; this needs no further proof than the very statements of Sampson's official report, which establish the fact that less than a quarter of an hour after their exit from the passage, the Infanta Maria Teresa and the Oquendo had already ceased firing on account of being on fire; that the total losses in the United States fleet in this affair were one killed and two wounded, all on board the Brooklyn; and finally that the Spanish gunners were as bad as possible.
The American gunners, on the contrary, were very well trained. It is all the more useful to examine what the practical results of firing under such eminently favorable conditions were; it is not often that gun captains are so lucky as to have real ships for their target, and the lesson will be a profitable one.
The range varied between two thousand and four thousand meters. The number of projectiles of all calibers fired by the Americans can be estimated at six thousand; out of that immense number there were only one hundred and thirty hits, which gives the very small percentage of 2.2. There is nothing in this which ought to surprise us, and I am not making these statements merely to recall figures which complete and verify the theoretical probabilities. But among the very various calibers used, eight 13-inch guns gave not a single hit, six 12-inch gave but two hits, and eight 8-inch only ten hits; all the rest of the hits came from the fire of the medium and light guns.
Upon this point, there is a very important remark to be made; when the comparative ballistic value of different guns is discussed, a relation is established between the effects of their projectiles, supposing them to have struck the target. Thus proposed, the problem is vitiated from the start, because it does not take account of the chances of hitting, which are strictly proportional to the number of shots fired and consequently to the number of rounds carried. But this number of rounds carried, and the resultant ability to fire a considerable number of shots, as well as the chances of hitting the target, are generally and in all navies, from considerations of weight and space which it is useless to inquire into, so much the smaller as caliber is greater. Such is the sole and correct explanation of the results given above. At the same time it is a complete demonstration of the error committed in adopting a diversity of calibers and giving fighting ships a very small number of big guns, theoretically of great power, but too ill supplied with ammunition to be reasonably sure of making a hit.
This is not all: of the one hundred and thirty hits counted upon the hulls of the Spanish ships, not one affected their buoyancy, not one reached their underwater parts, not to mention their essential organs; their machinery remained intact. And yet these instruments of battle had exceeded, long before the firing ceased, the limit of their resistance. Devoured by fire, having all their upper works torn to pieces, their guns destroyed, the ammunition hoists broken down, the means of communication cut, the fire mains riddled, they were no more than defenseless wrecks when they ran ashore.
Thus, without going back to the naval battles of sailing ships, following Punta-Agamos and Yalu, Santiago showed once again to the naval world what the battle of August 10 and especially that of Tsushima later on confirmed, that it is not at all necessary to sink and completely destroy a fighting ship to force its surrender, but that this result is much more surely obtained by riddling that part of the target which almost all the successful shots hit, thus reaching the field of action of the personnel and so destroying the force of resistance of that personnel. It proves furthermore that it would be foolish in any case to base offensive action upon the hope of striking a single limited part of the target which by its very narrowness escapes being hit.
I will add in conclusion that the demonstration of Santiago is still more convincing than all the others, because the enemy did not defend himself, and the American gunners, in full possession of their faculties, found themselves placed in extraordinarily favorable conditions.
Next in importance to the disastrous consequences which absence of preparation for war entails, this is the most important lesson to be learned from the Spanish-American war. By itself alone it would justify the study of that war.
THE POPULAR OPINION OF THE FUNCTION OF FLEETS.
There only remains, in conclusion, to give due consideration to an absolutely erroneous popular conception which manifested itself with singular persistency in both of the belligerent nations during this war, and which it is the more necessary to combat because of its dangerous consequences and particularly because it is far from being peculiar to those two countries. To some extent everywhere in the world, except in England, public opinion sees in squadrons a system of defense for the coasts and the national domain. It is in an endeavor to destroy this false idea of the proper use of naval forces that I think it needful to elucidate this question.
On the Spanish side documents are not wanting to make clear the existence of this particular state of mind; we find it first in a despatch from the governor of Cuba under date of April 7, 1898: "Public opinion is disquieted by the absence of any naval force. You will appreciate the favorable effect which would be produced by sending some war ships here."
The vague instructions which Cervera received at St. Vincent contained also the following phrase: "If war is declared, your objective will be the defense of Porto Rico." General Blanco repeated his request on April 22: "The enthusiasm here is great, but I fear a painful reaction if it is learned that the squadron is not to come. May I hope to see it arrive within a reasonable time?" The governor of Porto Rico had himself also telegraphed to the government two days earlier: "I am ignorant of the whereabouts of the squadron. You know how scanty my resources are, and it would be well that we should be informed as to what our naval forces are doing."
Finally, on May 17 and 18, having learned of an order sent to Cervera on the 12th, to turn back to Spain with his squadron, an order which the latter only knew of when he returned to Spain after the war, the governors of Cuba and Porto Rico made a further vehement protest against this decision.
On the side of the American people, the error is the same. It is Mahan himself, and his testimony cannot be doubted by anyone, who is to inform us upon this point. "Our sea-coast was in a condition of unreasoning panic, and fought to have little squadrons scattered along it everywhere, according to the theory of defense always favored by stupid terror."
Speaking of the effect produced in America by the announcement of the departure from Spain of Cervera's squadron, he says further, and I ask all to ponder his serious words:
"By some of the latter (the inhabitants), indeed, were displayed evidences of panic unworthy of men, unmeasured, irreflective, and therefore irrational; due largely, it is to be feared, to that false gospel of peace which preaches it for the physical comfort and ease of mind attendant; and in its argument against war strives to smother righteous indignation or noble ideals by appealing to the fear of loss casting the pearls of peace before the swine of self interest."
The blind belief of public opinion, in America as well as in Spain, in the purely defensive role of fighting fleets appears with perfect clearness from the documents just exhibited. In that expression: little squadrons scattered everywhere along the coast, may be found condensed an idea so general, and still so wide spread, that it can be considered the expression of a universal public sentiment.
It is in obedience to this influence that the "flying squadron" of Commodore Schley was kept on the United States coast, contrary to the fundamental principle of concentration of forces, until the "fleet in being" of Cervera committed suicide by shutting itself up in Santiago.
It is because this feeling is so strongly rooted in the mind of the great masses of the people that it is necessary to strive to combat it by every means. That the task is a difficult one cannot be denied, because there exist in the body of the people very few of a character capable of elevating themselves to a point of general view, and of turning their regards from isolated facts so as to perceive only the general trend of events.
The enemy appears at some point on the coast, fires a few shots at the shore, demolishes some villages, even burns a commercial port. The instinctive, irresistible action of the people under the pressure of private interests which are menaced, is to demand aid and protection from the central authority; and the most efficient mode of protection unconsciously takes the form in their minds of that sort of floating and moveable fort which a fighting ship is.
Throughout the ages, the same story is told over and over again. To-day, the same as at the battle of Arbela, the question being between the immediate and accessory defense of some baggage and the quest of victory, we must decide whether we ought to take as objective the impossible task of succoring all the secondary ports threatened with some partial depredation, or whether we ought to pursue, as a unique and exclusive end, the destruction of the active forces of the enemy.
Our choice is already made, for we cannot forget that, among many other examples which we might have selected, England was saved from invasion at Trafalgar. That cape is not situated, to my knowledge, on the British shores.
A fleet is an offensive weapon, and the best method of defending oneself that has ever yet been found is by attacking.