In like manner the prime minister of Natal, some months later, challenged the following statement of the Times in its issue of March 2, 1900: "From November 2, when, owing to the subordination of military to local political considerations, a British force of 10,000 fine soldiers was shut in Ladysmith, a great fear has hung over us." Upon this the premier comments: "It is true that the Governor, when asked by Sir George White to give his opinion, pointed out the serious political consequences which might follow the evacuation of Dundee. But as far as Ladysmith was concerned the abandonment or evacuation of that town was never, to my knowledge, even hinted at. For two years or more previous to the outbreak of the war, Ladysmith had been made the principal military station in Natal; large quantities of commissariat stores and ammunition had been accumulated there; and the troops stationed at Ladysmith, comprising the larger portion of the Natal garrison, had been permanently hutted instead of being retained under canvas. Of one fact I am certain, and that is that no suggestion of any kind was ever made to the Government of Natal that, for military or any other reasons, it was undesirable that Ladysmith should be defended."
Intrinsically, therefore, Ladysmith presented strong claims, inherent and acquired, against abandonment. But there were further reasons, exterior to herself, to be found in the particular condition of the military problem. In all campaigns, and especially in those which are defensive in character, as this then was, it is an accepted principle that the front of operations should be advanced, or, in case of retreat, should be maintained, as far forward as is possible consistent with general considerations of safety. Prominent among the latter is always the securing of the lines of communication, by which alone supplies and reinforcements can be received, or further retreat made in case of necessity. By detaining the enemy in such an advanced position, security—partial or total—is obtained for the various interests in the rear, whether public or private. The question of such detention, however, if to be effected by an inferior army, is difficult and complicated; for which reason, as well as because of other disadvantages inherent in inferiority, a defensive campaign really great—great, that is, in a military sense—makes the highest demand upon military skill.
It was the defensive stage of Napoleon's Italian campaign of 1796 that illustrated his greatness, even more conspicuously than the offensive movements which preceded it, extraordinary exhibitions though they were of his military genius; and the same distinction attends his resistance of the allied invasion in 1814.
In certain conditions of country, in certain relative degrees of numerical strength, under certain political conditions—for it is a grave mistake to think that military and political considerations can be dissevered practically, as they can logically—an inferior force can contest step by step, content to delay only, not to arrest. It is, for instance, evident that, politically, one may more readily thus abandon hostile country than uncover one's own territory—as in Natal—even though the military conditions in the two cases be identical. But, under different circumstances of position or of numbers, such dilatory field operations may be impracticable. If the country through which retreat is to be made be open, if numbers be so small that the enemy can overlap—that is outflank—if the ground does not afford positions where the flanks may be protected by natural obstacles that make outflanking impossible or exceedingly arduous, if the enemy be greatly superior in mobility, in such conditions retreat from each successive stand is apt to be precipitate—dependent less upon one's own will than upon the enemy's energy—and the retiring army may reach its ultimate goal under an accumulation of retrograde impulse not far distinguishable from rout, deteriorated in morale and diminished in numbers.
Where such unfavourable conditions obtain, the principle which dominates all correct defensive action receives a special application. The principle is that every defensive disposition should look to offensive action—or at the least to offensive effect. Mere defence is ultimate ruin. "In the long run," said Napoleon, "no position whatever can be defended if it does not threaten the enemy."[15] Consequently, the force that for any, or several, of the reasons above given cannot safely keep the field must establish itself solidly in some place where, for whatsoever advantages, it is as far as possible itself secure; but whence at the same time—and this is the more important of the two considerations—it most effectually menaces the enemy. This it does by applying again, but in another manner, the flanking, or turning, idea—by placing itself across or to one side of the line of communications upon which the enemy will depend, if he ventures to advance in the direction which the defendant has not felt himself strong enough otherwise to contest. Of such offensive-defensive positions there are many historical examples. Among these the most recently conspicuous was the occupation of Plevna by the Turks in 1877, and the long consequent arrest of the Russian progress; but Mantua, in 1796, in like manner and for the same reasons, effectually stopped Bonaparte for eight months, and Genoa, in 1800, so long delayed the Austrians as to reverse the issues of the campaign signalised by the name of Marengo.
From the simply defensive point of view, a line of works arranged consecutively around such a stationary centre has no flanks to be turned, but resembles a circle or other continuous curve which returns into itself. Like a straight line, such a curve may be broken by superior force; but until that is done the weakness of flanks does not exist. Moreover, succour can be more quickly sent from a centre to every threatened point of the circumference than from the middle of a line of equal length to its extremes. A circle, therefore, is the most compact disposition for defence, and so most ideal for smaller numbers. It is concentration in its most effective form, while sacrificing nothing in elasticity and flexibility of motion.
These are the intrinsic defensive advantages—as distinguished from the offensive threat to the enemy's communications—secured to the weaker party by a permanent position, and these are its compensations for the loss of open communications which have been deliberately abandoned.
In Natal, at the end of October, 1899, the British army was much inferior to the enemy in both numbers and mobility; and while several lines of defence were to be found in the region behind, as was shown by the stubborn resistance which the Boers, when in turn outnumbered, made at the Tugela, these positions were open to the danger of being turned by superior numbers or superior rapidity; still more when these two were combined. In fact, much of the subsequent Boer success in defence resulted from the fact that, acting on the inside of an arc, with the advantage of interior—shorter—lines, they also moved over the latter with greater speed, owing to their distinguishing characteristic as mounted troops. They had particular facilities, in a word, for accumulating successful numbers at a threatened point of a stationary defence, which the British would not have had in an active campaign of retreat.
It became therefore advisable, if not imperative, for the British commander in Natal to resort to a stationary defence for the preservation of his division, and to place himself for offensive purpose upon the flank of the enemy's possible line of invasion, in order to deter him from further advance. As to situation, Ladysmith was clearly indicated by the reasons before stated, and especially because there was there accumulated a great quantity of ammunition, provisions, and other supplies, which not only should not be allowed to fall into the hands of the Boers, but also would be essential to the maintenance of the garrison, if relief were long delayed, as it proved to be. That this contingency was foreseen, and as far as possible provided for, has been shown by subsequent utterances of Sir George White. "From the moment I saw the situation in Natal, I was certain I should be pressed back by superior numbers, and have to hold Ladysmith, and I knew that the enemy had guns with which I could not hope to cope with my 15-pounder field guns. Therefore I telegraphed for the naval guns. It was a question of a race for them, and Captain Lambton was the right man to win that race. He won only by a short head."[16]
This, then, was the function which the current of events assigned to Ladysmith, and the part which it bore to the subsequent development of the war. Discussion has been thus long because, in the author's judgment, White's action in shutting himself up in the place, and the admirable tenacity of himself and of the garrison in their resistance, were the shaping factors in a contest the ultimate result of which was probably certain in any event, but which in feature and occurrence would have been very different had Ladysmith either not been occupied or proved incapable of protracted resistance. As so often markedly happens, when a correct decision has been made, circumstances seemed to work together to favour the consequences. The respite given to the garrison by Joubert, who did not attack until November 9, allowed opportunity to regularize and further to develop the system of defence, so that on November 6 a press censor telegram, brought out successfully by a Kaffir runner, read, "Position here now believed to be entirely safe; greatly strengthened in the last twenty-four hours." The opportune arrival of the naval guns also, though by so narrow a margin of time, decisively influenced the outcome. "Had it not been for these guns," said Sir George White, after his return to England, "the guns of the Boers would have been brought up very much nearer to my defences of Ladysmith, and it would enormously have embarrassed my powers of resistance and would have added enormously to the mortality of my garrison. Not once or twice in our rough island story have the naval officer and his men come in the nick of time, and the siege of Ladysmith was but one instance added to these happy advents."