A Lecture Delivered to the Officers of the Postgraduate School
Leadership is an endowment or gift of nature. It is the offspring of the peculiar conditions of any given era, or it may be the product of environment, or it may be an inheritance. Napoleon, Nelson, and Marlborough are examples of the first; they were born and lived when practically the whole of Europe was at war. Bedford Forrest and Grant would have remained in obscurity if the Civil War had not brought out and developed their genius; Lee and Admiral Porter were leaders by inheritance, Lee the scion of cavaliers, and Porter the son of generations of seamen. There are leaders of course in all professions, but it is war that produces the great men whose deeds have illuminated the pages of history from the most ancient times and have been the inspiration of literature and art. Guns are the last argument of kings, according to the motto on an old cannon, and it will be so until war is outlawed by all nations. That will be when the sixth chapter of Revelations is outlawed.
May I quote as germane to this subject from two very distinguished men? Sir William Napier wrote:
War is the normal condition of the world—and the glory of arms which cannot be obtained without the exercise of honor, fortitude, courage, obedience, modesty, and temperance, excites the brave man’s patriotism, and is a chastening corrective to the rich man’s pride.
Ruskin wrote:
All the pure and noble arts of peace are founded on war—it is the foundation of all the high virtues and faculties of men.
We can name offhand the great naval leaders of our own country, England, and France, or even those of classic Greece, Rome, and Persia, but do we ever consider the qualities and characteristics that are the essentials and fundamentals of a great leader, those that are the same in all ages, whether of galley, sail, or steam, because the principles of leadership are eternal.
I venture to present a few reflections for consideration on the character of a great sailor, who was at one time the head of this institution. It is impossible to single out any one man as the greatest, because there is no definite standard of greatness. Measured by certain standards Napoleon appears to be a superman and o’ertops all others. Measured by another Washington would lead. Justin McCarthy probably had some such thought in mind when he said that Wellington was a better general than Washington but not so great a man. Paul Jones was great, in that his work of founding a navy was more comprehensive and enduring than that of any of his contemporaries, even John Barry—“saucy Jack Barry,” as one historian flippantly terms him—who has a rival reputation of being the “Father” of the United States Navy, notwithstanding he did not do the constructive work credited to Jones. The naval heroes of the War of 1812 were great in achieving much of enduring value and importance with small means, but commanders in single ship actions cannot be compared with the commanders of fleets in action, whose horizons are infinitely farther and responsibilities correspondingly greater. In fact, until the war with Spain we had had no big fleet actions on the high seas, and even Manila and Santiago are greater and more important in political results than in naval lessons. It will be remembered that James Fenimore Cooper, himself at one time an officer in our Navy, looked abroad for the principal actors in his story of the two admirals.
Men who are leaders in peace time often fail to stand the supreme test of war, hence the delay and danger of selecting leaders when war comes. France and England changed their commanders many times before Foch and Haig finally led their armies. In our Civil War the commander of the Army of the Potomac was changed five times. Admiral De Bon, the chief of the French Navy general staff, told me that he considered it a remarkable tribute to American discipline and organization that our commanders of the various forces of the Navy, who were in command at the beginning of the war, were not shifted. It is rare that a man distinguished in peace continues distinguished in war, and it often occurs that men unknown and obscure in peace emerge into greatness during war. The most brilliant examples of this in our country are Forrest and Jackson. If we go back to Biblical times we find that in David’s innumerable hosts against the Philistines, there were only thirty-seven men he considered leaders, and only three of these attained to the highest rank. From what has been said it will be inferred that the qualifications for a great leader must be so exacting that few can measure up to the exalted standard.
During the Civil War the Navy had an unusual number of capable officers at the head of the list, but only two of the entire Navy are generally remembered today, one an old man at that time, more than sixty, whose health was soon impaired by service and the malarial climate of the south, the other comparatively young, in perfect physical condition, who was reputed the strongest man in the Navy, and like the hero in fiction could crush a silver goblet in his hands. I refer to Admiral Farragut and Admiral David D. Porter. For the purposes of this paper I have ventured to select the latter, an outstanding internationally known sea commander of that period, because his fame is coequal with that of the victorious Farragut and because in some respects he was the greater man.
Before discussing his career, let us consider some of the elements necessary to the make-up of a great leader. The ancient prophet says that it is required of every man to be humble, just, and merciful, and these virtues are the corner stone upon which character is based. Theodore Roosevelt, himself one of the greatest leaders, said these words of Micah were his religion. Admiral Porter was probably lacking in humility but he was amply gifted with mercy and justice. If for humility we read loyalty, which is akin to leadership, we have those elements which were so mixed in him, that as was said of another, “Nature might stand up and say to all the world, this was a man!” Another marked trait was his sympathy with officers and men as shown when, instead of disciplining Selfridge when the latter’s ship was destroyed, he gave him another at once, reporting to the department that he found nothing in Selfridge’s conduct to “reprehend.” Porter’s unswerving loyalty to Farragut, and his treatment of the unfortunate young captain indicate his methods, which awoke in his subordinates a ready response of loyalty and personal devotion. This, coupled with his habit of praising when praise was merited, raised him above that school of officers who considered it unnecessary, if not unwise to praise anyone for doing his duty. There is another phase of Admiral Porter’s character which should not be overlooked, which doubtless contributed to his success, and that is his sense of humor and a geniality almost boyish. They led him into indiscretions sometimes, but it was a part of an engaging personality.
Buchan says that leadership is a human inspiration; so also is initiative and decision. “Once to every man and nation” says Lowell, “comes a moment to decide,” and by that decision is leadership measured. Great leaders are not always triumphant only in victory, for a really great leader may shine equally in defeat or disaster. For instance, Captain “Barney” Williams, when rammed by an ocean liner, refused all offers of help, saying "I go down with my ship”; the British admiral remained on the bridge of the Victoria when sunk by the Camperdown, saying “This is all my fault”; and the obscure Japanese lieutenant wrote the report of the fatal accident to his sunken submarine until, overcome by suffocation, the pen dropped from his hand. They and thousands of others belong to the glorious brotherhood of the sea who have made the great decision without flinching.
President Wilson is quoted as saying that he had a single-track mind, by which he probably meant that he had the mind and temperament to view problems calmly one at a time and to make his decisions with independence and courage, whether the problems were of minor character or of national importance. As a leader Mr. Wilson’s supreme claim to greatness was his fearlessness in taking the initiative. He dared to stand alone!
Buchan, in his lecture on leadership delivered last year at the University of St. Andrews, considered the characters of Bunyan in connection with this subject, and it will interest you to read again from his point of view the stories of Great-Heart, Valiant for Truth, Standfast, and Mr. Honest, as well as that of Captain Anything who was ready to fight on any side and who ended by being hanged.
A leader must be brave enough to change his mind if he is convinced that it is right to assert today what he denied yesterday, but he must have reason for the faith that is in him and have the moral courage to state the reason for his change of creed. Mr. Wilson was jeered because he said there was such a thing as a nation being too proud to fight, but those who jeered did not realize that the strongest man is the man who is not afraid to be called weak. Gladstone said only a fool never changed his mind.
Several years ago, at the request of the Bureau of Navigation, I prepared a paper on discipline, and I beg your permission to quote a paragraph that has an intimate bearing on this subject.
Let us recall Pilate’s sarcastic question, “What is truth.” Everyone must answer for himself, but it is easier to point out matters that are not true, than to give a positive definition of truth—or of leadership for instance. Still it is well to bear in mind that a thing is either right or wrong. There can be no compromise. Certainly if we say or write one thing, and mean something else, that is not truth, and partial truth may convey an entirely wrong impression. Loyalty, frankness, truth, there cannot be discipline without these cardinal virtues, and we may add, war leadership.
In addition to moral courage and physical courage a leader must have brains. He must have the initiative and driving force to execute his plans, and should they fail or go astray he must have “patience in misunderstanding,” to quote Buchan again, “and resilience in defeat.” He must have the courage of his convictions. Do not forget that many a ship has come to grief because the captain did not have the nerve to act according to his own judgment for fear his officers might say he had cold feet. Like Saul such men “fear the people and obey their voice.” They can never be leaders.
In the above general considerations of leadership I have had in mind Admiral Porter as the one who possessed nearly all, if not all, the gifts of a great leader. He certainly attained to the “first three” in war. I recall that I once heard a would-be historian exclaim, “I have written a history of the United States Navy, and have not once mentioned the name of Admiral Porter.” Well, the man who said that is dead, and his history is forgotten. Perhaps his disapproved request for leave is yellowing and fading somewhere in the files of the superintendent’s office.
Admiral David Dixon Porter came of a race of seamen; his father was the famous Essex Porter, his grandfather commanded ships in the colonial wars, and was himself the son and grandson of sea captains. David Porter’s four brothers were all in either the Navy or the Army. When the Civil War broke out he was forty-eight years old and not yet out of the lieutenant’s list. He had been in the service since 1829 and had the reputation of being a fine seaman and ship handler, but aside from active service as a midshipman with his father and uncle in the Mexican Navy, and later, in the fifties in command of a vessel in the Australian Steamship Co., he might be considered only as an average officer, except for his charming personality and attractive social qualities that made him a well-known figure in Washington society, in which his father and mother took a prominent part.
It was on Porter’s advice that Farragut was selected to command the New Orleans expedition, a duty he might have had himself, but was content with the mortar flotilla, which he organized and, as events proved afterwards, commanded with conspicuous ability. Porter undoubtedly originated and planned the New Orleans expedition in all its details. During the bombardment of the forts before the passage of the fleet, he was constantly moving around in a tug among the mortar schooners, directing their fire, while under fire himself. No detail escaped him. After the fleet started up the river, Porter in person led the steamers of his flotilla within 500 yards of Fort Jackson under a heavy fire from the water batteries, which he finally subdued by his own fire. This separate battle greatly simplified Farragut’s work, and as Professor Soley says, it was a brilliant exploit and contributed materially to Farragut’s success. It was here for the first time that Porter displayed those qualities of tireless energy, resourcefulness, and initiative which were to be so strongly developed in the war on the rivers during the next two or three years. In this campaign he forged to the front as a leader—a leader in the literal sense of the word, for his ship was always at the head of the column, except once in the Red River campaign when the post of honor was with the rear guard, and in that incident Porter was himself the rear guard.
This is not the place to follow this indefatigable commander in his exploits at Vicksburg, Arkansas Post, Grand Gulf, in the Yazoo Delta, in the Red River, and finally at Fort Fisher, his last and crowning battle. Everywhere and in every engagement he displayed an almost reckless disregard of his personal safety and exhibited an undaunted courage that is universally regarded as the supreme test of a leader. It was this perhaps more than anything else that endeared him to his men. Although under heavy fire in scores of engagements, Porter was never wounded except when a midshipman in the Mexican Navy. During the fight at Grand Gulf he was struck by a splinter while talking to officers on the deck of his flagship Benton, and was prevented from falling by Captain Greer, who caught him in arms. Like Napoleon’s soldiers his men came to believe in his star and were ready to follow it. His personal gallantry was especially conspicuous in the bogs and swamps of the delta where every tree and stump concealed a sharpshooter, and the heavy guns of the enemy were too high above his own decks to be reached. Again, at Arkansas Post he transferred to a small, light draft tug which enabled him to move in and out among the fleet and gave his orders in person regardless of the heavy fire from the fort.
But it was not only as a fighter and a man of action that Porter displayed his ability as a leader. He was a great organizer. He commanded independently 3,000 miles of river in the heart of the enemy’s country; he had the direction of repairs of a great number of vessels and the administration of discipline of hundreds of officers and men. He had conferences innumerable with the Army, and questions to settle with hostile civil inhabitants involving construction of laws, but his physical strength was equal to these almost superhuman labors. In 1862 when he assumed command of the Mississippi Squadron as acting rear admiral he found a heterogeneous collection of ships which required all his energy and vigor to whip into shape. His administration showed that his brain was capable of undertakings of the first rank. Two weeks after hoisting his flag he reported to the department he was ready to move.
It would be hard to find in history a parallel to the complicated problems that confronted Porter in the Red River campaign. These merit the closest study. Notwithstanding that the expedition failed in anticipated results, the Navy’s part in it under the tireless and resourceful Porter makes a brilliant page in history. Try to realize the conditions, or in modern phraseology, make an estimate of the situation. The objective was the capture of Shreveport, 600 miles from the mouth of the Red River, defended by 20,000 troops. The plan was to reënforce General Banks’ army of 17,000 men with 10,000 additional troops, and Porter’s task was to make the passage of the river and combine with the Army. He was to take with him ironclad gunboats, monitors, and light gun vessels, in all twenty vessels, up a narrow, crooked stream that ran between high bluffs lined with artillery and sharpshooters. The water in the river was barely sufficient to float the vessels and the probability was that it would fall before the ships could get out, for the month was March, time of highest water. The case called for quick decision and only one man could make it. His would be the responsibility if the ships were stranded in the river where they would soon be destroyed. Porter’s iron nerve never failed him.
After the fleet arrived within forty miles of Shreveport the expedition had to be called off by the unexpected and precipitate retreat of Banks; and Porter now had the almost insuperable task of extricating his fleet from the river and getting his ships back to the Mississippi. The water was falling, the enemy kept up a constant fire from both sides, and a dam had to be built to float the ships over the rapids. Soley says:
No episode in Porter’s career is more remarkable than that of the Red River expedition, and none shows more clearly his marvelous leadership. His courage and hopefulness were the courage and hopefulness of the squadron. To every man under him he communicated his own buoyancy of spirit, his untiring energy, his obstinate courage in coping with circumstances as adverse as ever it fell to the lot of a naval commander to meet.
The nagivation was most difficult by reason of jutting and sunken rocks; many of the transports were crippled; and the enemy’s constant fire was fatally harassing. Night and day the work of preparation for the retreat down the river went on, and when it began Porter, of course, was again personally exposed to a heavy fire from both banks. When the Eastport, one of his best vessels, grounded he dropped to the rear to assist the captain. She was one of the most valuable ships in the squadron and every effort was made to save her, Porter encouraging in person the officers and men in their efforts, oblivious of the fire poured down upon them from the bluffs. Personal danger never deterred him. Besides these difficulties he was harassed by the possibility that his ships would not get through the rapids. He referred to this experience later as the most anxious time of his life. In spite of all efforts, the Eastport was finally abandoned and blown up. Not until then did Porter rejoin the main body and after much severe fighting reached the deep water in the Mississippi.
The crowning achievement of Porter’s service afloat was the capture of Fort Fisher, and for this victory he received the thanks of Congress, the third time this honor had been conferred upon him. His promotions during the war had been unprecedented; in 1863 from commander to rear admiral, in 1865 to vice admiral, and on the death of Farragut in 1870 to full admiral.
His service at the Naval Academy was marked by all the traits of leadership that had distinguished him at sea; he found the academy disorganized by the war, shackled by an out-of-date and inadequate curriculum, and palsied by obsolete ideas of discipline. Porter put the school on a different basis and, in four years, brought it up to the highest standards. Athletics, which had been taboo, were introduced and encouraged, and the social life of the academy became a feature which had a beneficial influence on the midshipmen. Of a long line of able and distinguished superintendents, I think it will be conceded that as superintendent of the Naval Academy, Porter attained to the “first three.”
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As Washington said a century and a quarter ago: “It is to be regretted that Democratical States must always feel before they see," for “it is this which makes their government slow.” In my judgment this failing constitutes our chief danger, for modern life is fast. Modern warfare requires not only a highly scientific body of trained men to act as officers, but modern fleets take many years to build. On the other hand, when the blow falls, it falls suddenly. In a few days a decisive battle may be fought, as the French found in the campaign of 1870. Safety therefore lies in patient preparation and in rapid action. Such being my opinion I cannot too strongly urge upon you, as one of your weightest duties, your responsibility toward your country in this behalf. A portion of your task should be to foresee and explain the action of those competing currents of trade which, when brought into conflict, must, as a condition of survival, make it necessary to take and hold certain dominant positions. That means war unless one party is to strong to be attacked. To perform this function you must, in a degree, become popular teachers, for on you, more than on any other class of the community, developes the task of eradicating prejudices, and of diffusing intelligent ideas on this great class of subjects with which you, of all men, are most competent to deal.—Brooks Adams.