After dinner, the Emperor, who was pleased with the subject of the dictations and conversation in which he had been engaged during the morning, discoursed on the same topics for nearly an hour; discussing in the most masterly and ingenious way a variety of points connected with the art of war.
Alluding to the great difference between ancient and modern warfare, he observed: “The invention of fire-arms has wrought a total change. This great discovery operates entirely to the advantage of assailants, though many moderns have maintained the contrary opinion. The corporeal strength of the ancients,” added he, “was in harmony with their offensive and defensive weapons; ours, on the other hand, are entirely beyond our sphere.”
Should the Emperor leave behind him his thoughts on these points, they will be truly invaluable. In course of the evening, he pronounced his opinion on several military subjects; sometimes embracing the highest questions, and sometimes descending into the minutest details.
He remarked that war frequently depended on accident, and that, though a commander ought to be guided by general principles, yet he should never lose sight of any thing that may enable him to profit by accidental circumstances. The vulgar call good-fortune that which, on the contrary, is produced by the calculations of genius.
In the present mode of military operations, he thought it advisable that greater consistency should be given to the third rank of infantry, or, that it should be suppressed[suppressed]; and he explained his reasons for this.
He was of opinion that infantry charged by cavalry should fire from a distance, instead of firing closely, according to the present practice. He proved the advantage of this method.
He observed that infantry and cavalry left to themselves, without artillery, could procure no decisive result; but that, with the aid of artillery, all things else being equal, cavalry might destroy infantry. He clearly explained these facts, and many others besides.
He added that artillery really decided the fate of armies and nations; that men now fought with blows of cannon balls, as they fought with blows of fists; for in battle, as in a siege, the art consisted in making numerous discharges converge on one and the same point; that, amidst the conflict, he who had sufficient address to direct a mass of artillery suddenly and unexpectedly on any particular point of the enemy’s force was sure of the victory. This, he said, had been his grand secret and his grand plan of tactics.
The Emperor conceived that it would be impossible to form a perfect army, without a revolution in the manners and education of the soldier, and perhaps even the officer. This could not be accomplished with our ovens, magazines, commissaries, and carriages. There could be no perfect army, until, in imitation of the Romans, the soldier should receive his supply of corn, grind it in his hand-mill, and bake his bread himself. We could not hope to possess an army, until we should abolish all our monstrous train of civil attendants.
“I contemplated all these changes,” said he, “but they never could have been put in practice, except during profound peace. An army in a state of war would infallibly have rebelled against such innovations.”