A military dictionary

by William Duane

“Many commanders in chief have been so limited in their ideas of warfare, that when events have brought the contest to issue, and two rival armies have been drawn out for action, their whole attention has devolved upon a straight alignement, an equality of step, or a regular distance in intervals of columns. They have considered it sufficient to give answers to questions proposed by their aids-de-camp, to send orders in various directions and to gallop themselves from one quarter to another, without steadily adhering to the fluctuations of the day, or calmly watching for an opportunity to strike a decisive blow. They endeavor, in fact, to do every thing, and thereby do nothing. They appear like men, whose presence of mind deserts them the instant they are taken out of the beaten track, or are reduced to supply unexpected calls by uncommon exertions; and from whence continues the same sensible writer, do these contradictions arise? from an ignorance of these high qualifications without which the mere routine of duty, methodical arrangement, and studied discipline must fall to the ground, and defeat themselves. Many officers spend their whole lives in putting a few regiments through a regular set of manœuvres; and having done so, they vainly imagine, that all the science of a real military man consists in that acquirement. When, in process of time, the command of a large army falls to their lot, they are manifestly lost in the magnitude of the undertaking, and from not knowing how to act as they ought, they remain satisfied with doing what they have partially learned.

“Military knowlege, as far as it regards a general or commander in chief, may be divided into two parts, one comprehending mere discipline and settled systems for putting a certain number of rules into practice; and the other originating a sublimity of conception, that method may assist, but cannot give.

“If a man be not born with faculties that are naturally adapted to the situation of a general, and if his talents do not fit the extraordinary casualties of war, he will never rise beyond mediocrity.

“It is, in fact, in war as it is in painting, or in music. Perfection in either art grows out of innate talents, but it never can be acquired without them. Study and perseverance may correct ideas, but no application, no assiduity will give the life and energy of action; those are the works of nature.

“It has been my fate (observes the Marshal) to see several very excellent colonels become indifferent generals. I have known others, who have distinguished themselves at sieges, and in the different evolutions of an army, lose their presence of mind and appear ignorant of their profession, the instant they were taken from that particular line, and be incapable of commanding a few squadrons of horse. Should a man of this cast be put at the head of an army, he will confine himself to mere dispositions and manœuvres; to them he will look for safety; and if once thwarted, his defeat will be inevitable, because his mind is not capable of other resources.

“In order to obviate in the best possible manner, the innumerable disasters which must arise from the uncertainty of war, and the greater uncertainty of the means that are adopted to carry it on, some general rules ought to be laid down, not only for the government of the troops, but for the instruction of those who have the command of them. The principles to be observed, are: that when the line or the columns advance, their distances should be scrupulously observed; that whenever a body of troops is ordered to charge, every proportion of the line should rush forward with intrepidity and vigor; that if openings are made in the first line it becomes the duty of the second instantly to fill up the chasms.

“These instructions issue from the dictates of plain nature, and do not require the least elucidation in writing. They constitute the A, B, C, of soldiers. Nothing can be more simple, or more intelligible; so much so, that it would be ridiculous in a general to sacrifice essential objects in order to attend to such minutiæ. His functions in the day of battle are confined to those occupations of the mind, by which he is enabled to watch the countenance of the enemy, to observe his movements, and to see with an eagle’s, or a king of Prussia’s eye, all the relative directions that his opponents take. It must be his business to create alarms and suspicions among the enemy’s line in one quarter, whilst his real intention is to act against another; to puzzle and disconcert him in his plans; to take advantage of the manifold openings, which his feints have produced, and when the contest is brought to issue, to be capable of plunging with effect, upon the weakest part, and of carrying the sword of death where its blows is certain of being mortal. But to accomplish these important and indispensible points, his judgment must be clear, his mind collected, his heart firm, and his eyes incapable of being diverted, even for a moment, by the trifling occurrences of the day.

“I am not, however, an advocate for pitched battles, especially at the commencement of a war. A skilful general might, I am persuaded, carry on a contest between two rival nations during the whole of his life, without being once obliged to come to a decisive action. Nothing harrasses and eventually distresses an enemy so much as this species of warfare. He must, in fact, be frequently attacked, and by degrees, be broken and unnerved; so that in a short time he will not be able to shew himself.

“It must not generally be inferred from this opinion, that when an opportunity presents itself, whereby an enemy may be crushed at once, the attack should not be made, or that advantage should not be taken of the errors he may commit; all I mean to prove is, that war can be carried on without leaving any thing to chance; and in this consists the perfection and highest point of ability belonging to a general. But when a battle is risked, the triumphant party ought well to know all the advantages which may be derived from his victory. A wise general, indeed, will not remain satisfied in having made himself master of the mere field of battle. This, I am sorry to observe, is too often the custom; and, strange to say, that custom is not without its advocates.

“It is too much the practice of some governments, and as often the custom of generals, to follow the old proverb, which says, that in order to gain your ends, you must make some sacrifices, and even facilitate the retreat of your enemy. Nothing can be more impolitic or more absurd. An able surgeon might as well tamper with a mortification, and by endeavoring to save an useless limb, run the hazard of destroying all the vital parts.