Local successes on the field of battle often have effects that are felt throughout the theatre of operations. Lord Roberts's advance on Pretoria relieved the pressure on Kimberley in the west and on Ladysmith in the east, and these centres are upwards of 300 miles apart. The {7} First Battle of the Somme (July 1, 1916) not only relieved the pressure on Verdun but held in position large enemy forces which would otherwise have been employed against our Allies in the East. General Byng's surprise attack at Cambrai (November 20, 1917) was followed by a determined counter-attack by the Germans on November 30, which appeared to nullify the results achieved from November 20 to 25; but "there is evidence that German divisions intended for the Italian theatre were diverted to the Cambrai front, and it is probable that the further concentration of German forces against Italy was suspended for at least two weeks at a most critical period, when our Allies were making their first stand on the Piave Line" (Sir D. Haig's Dispatches).

A tactical defeat may sometimes be risked to serve a strategic end. In June, 1864, General Hunter was operating with a Federal army in the Shenandoah Valley, and owing to shortage of supplies was forced to fall back. In so doing he uncovered the National Capital, and General Early was sent by the Confederate Commander-in-Chief to capture Washington. General Grant took immediate steps to protect the capital by the dispatch of troops, and to further this end, General Lew Wallace,[1] on his own initiative, confronted Early's corps at the Monocacy on July 8, 1864. He met the enemy and was defeated, but he delayed Early's corps until the troops sent by Grant were in position. "If Early had been but one day earlier he might have entered the capital before the arrival of the reinforcements I had sent. General Wallace contributed on this occasion, by the defeat of the troops under him, a greater benefit to the cause than often falls to the lot of a commander of an equal force to render by means of a victory" (Grant's "Memoirs"). A tactical success may be not only useless, but actually inopportune, if it is out of accord with the plans of the higher command. On the morning of June 18, 1815, Marshal Grouchy was in {8} pursuit of the Prussians whom Napoleon had defeated on June 16 at Ligny. Although urged "to march to the sound of the cannon" (at Waterloo), Grouchy pushed on eastwards, where he found Thielmann's Prussian Corps of 16,000 men holding the passage across the Dyle at Wavre. The Battle of Wavre was begun at 4 p.m. on June 18, and by 11 a.m. on the next day Grouchy was victorious. But his victory was barren. His tactical achievement was useless to the higher command and had exposed his own force to considerable danger. As he sat down to pen a vainglorious dispatch to the Emperor, he received the news that Napoleon was a fugitive and the Imperial Army defeated and scattered. Grouchy's feeble and false manoeuvres had permitted Blücher to join forces with Wellington. To the Emperor's dismay it was the Prussians who came from the eastward to the sound of the cannon: "C'est les Prussiens qui viennent!"

MORAL.—It is seen that Strategy may be defined as the art of concentrating troops at the required strength, at the required time, at the required place, for the purpose of overthrowing the enemy's main armies; while Tactics may be defined as the art of arranging and handling troops so concentrated for the purpose of defeating the enemy when encountered. But although Strategy may be considered as the art of bringing an opponent to battle, and Tactics as the art of defeating him in action, there are excluded from these definitions many considerations which influence a commander in the field.

The art of war does not commence with a strategical reconnaissance from the air, or the saddle, to ascertain whether, and if so in what locality and in what strength, hostile troops are being concentrated. From information so obtained, the physical force of an enemy may indeed be determined; but "in war (said Napoleon) moral force is to the physical (that is, to numbers and {9} armament) as three to one," and upwards of a hundred years later the same idea has again been expressed. "To understand war you must go beyond its instruments and materials; you must study in the book of history, conscientiously analysed, armies, troops in movement and in action, with their needs, their passions, their devotions, their capacities of all kinds. That is the essence of the subject, that is the point of departure for a reasonable study of the art of war" (Marshal Foch). And while dealing with moral force it must be remembered that the moral force of opposing leaders of nations or of armies is at least as important as that of the nations or armies themselves, for a war is a struggle between human intelligences rather than between masses of men. "There have been soldiers' battles but never a soldiers' campaign" ("The Science of War"). "It was not the Roman legions which conquered Gaul, it was Caesar. It was not the French Army which reached the Weser and the Inn, it was Turenne" (Napoleon). A commander must, therefore, take into account the character, the moral fibre, as well as the ability and the means at the disposal of his adversary. He must project his mind to his adversary's council chamber, and putting himself in his place must conjecture how a man of that character and of that ability will act under the given circumstances.

History supplies many examples of mental activity of this kind.[2] Napoleon predicted the impetuous onset of the Russian left wing against his right at Austerlitz, Dec. 2, 1805, because he knew the temperament of the Tsar Alexander. At Austerlitz, the most brilliant of all his battles, Napoleon had 70,000 troops and was confronted by 80,000 Austrians and Russians drawn up on the Heights of Pratzen. His plan was to draw the weight of the Russian attack against his right—which was so disposed as to invite the headstrong and {10} self-confident Tsar "to administer a lesson in generalship to Napoleon"—and then to launch a superior attack against the Heights, which contained a village and a knoll, the key to the position; and finally to hurl his General Reserve in a decisive counter-attack on the Russians when they were involved in battle with his right wing. When the rattle of musketry and booming of the guns showed that his right was engaged, Napoleon launched Murat, Bernadotte, and Soult against the allied centre; when Soult was master of the village and the knoll, and as the broken remnants of the enemy's centre were streaming down the reverse slopes of the Pratzen Ridge, the French centre wheeled round to the right and threw itself upon the flank and rear of the Russians, who were still heavily engaged in their original attack. These operations were completely successful and over 40,000 of the opposing armies were accounted for. Wellington defeated Soult at Sauroren in the Pyrenees (July 28, 1813) by taking advantage of a minor incident. He had ridden forward to see the disposition of the French forces, and as his men cheered him all along the line, he turned to his staff and said, "Soult is a very cautious commander. He will delay his attack to find out what those cheers mean; that will give time for the Sixth Division to arrive and I shall beat him"—and the event turned out exactly as he had predicted. Generals R. E. Lee and T. J. Jackson frequently played upon the nervousness of President Lincoln for the safety of Washington, and by threatening to cross the Potomac induced him to withdraw troops that were advancing against Richmond.

NATIONAL MORAL.—The moral fibre of the nation and of the troops must also be taken into consideration. "The common theory that, in order to win, an army must have superiority of rifles and cannon, better bases, more wisely chosen positions, is radically false. For it leaves out of account the most important part of the {11} problem, that which animates it and makes it live, man—with his moral, intellectual, and physical qualities" (Marshal Foch).

DISCIPLINE AND MORALITY.—The discipline, courage, and endurance of the troops, as well as the cause for which they are fighting, are at least of equal importance to their armament and numbers. "If their discipline and leading be defective, Providence seldom sides with the big battalions . . . and troops that cannot march are untrustworthy auxiliaries" ("The Science of War"). "An army which cannot march well is almost certain to be outmanoeuvred. A general whose strategy is based upon time calculations that are rendered inaccurate by the breakdown of the marching power of his troops runs grave risk of disaster. It is therefore necessary that the question of marching should be studied, not only by generals and staff officers, but by regimental officers and men. It is on the latter that the hardships and exertions fall, and their cheerful endurance can best be ensured by teaching them the great results attainable by an army which can move faster and further than its adversary, as well as the dangers incurred by an army which allows itself to be out-marched. . . . Superior mobility alone enabled Frederick the Great to move 'like a panther round an ox' so as to place his army across the enemy's flank. The discipline of his troops enabled him to apply the principles of combination" (General Sir E. B. Hamley). "Nothing compensates for absence of discipline; and the constant watchfulness that is necessary in war, even when danger seems remote, can only be secured by discipline, which makes of duty a habit" (General R. Taylor, C.S. Army). At the Battle of Hastings (Oct. 14, 1066) lack of discipline and disobedience of orders changed the fate of the English nation and brought about the Norman Conquest. Harold, the English king, had defeated the forces of Harold Hadraade, {12} King of Norway, at Stamford Bridge in Yorkshire (Sept. 25, 1066). Four days later, Duke William of Normandy landed in Pevensey Bay, with 60,000 horse and foot. Harold hastened south to meet him with troops exhausted by battle and marching. After halting six days in London to collect reinforcements, the English force entrenched itself on the hill of Sautlache and awaited attack. The Normans were unable to penetrate the abattis, but they gained the victory which changed the whole history of the English race by the stratagem of a feigned retreat. Harold's undisciplined auxiliaries, contrary to direct orders (which were obeyed by the "regular" troops in the centre), swarmed out of the palisades in pursuit of the fleeing Normans, who suddenly turned about and penetrated the English lines mingled with the discomfited auxiliaries. Had the "irregulars" shown the same sense of discipline as the "regulars" there had been no Norman Conquest.

With regard to marching, General T. J. Jackson once observed, in reply to an allusion to his severe marching, that "it is better to lose one man in marching than five in fighting." Acting on this principle he invariably surprised his enemy, the most notable instances being his surprise of Milroy at McDowell, of Banks and Fremont in the Valley, of McClellan's right at Gaines's Mill, of Pope at the Second Manassas, and his last and greatest of Hooker at Chancellorsville.

TIME.—Time is often a supreme factor in warfare, and the superior mobility of troops will gain for their commander a great strategical advantage. Reserves are of little value if they cannot be concentrated at the right spot at the right moment, and steamships, railways, and mechanical transport thus play an important part in war. The mobility of infantry is often the deciding factor in battle, and campaigns have been won by the legs of soldiers as much as by their arms.

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