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Battle Studies; Ancient and Modern Battle

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Title: Battle Studies; Ancient and Modern Battle

Author: Charles Jean Jacques Joseph Ardant du Picq

Translator: Robert Christie Cotton
        John N. Greely


        
Release date: January 1, 2005 [eBook #7294]
                Most recently updated: November 21, 2019

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BATTLE STUDIES; ANCIENT AND MODERN BATTLE ***




Produced by Suzanne L. Shell, Charles Franks and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team







BATTLE STUDIES

ANCIENT AND MODERN BATTLE

By Colonel Ardant Du Picq

French Army



Translated From The Eighth Edition In The French

By Colonel John N. Greely

Field Artillery, U.S. Army

And Major Robert C. Cotton

General Staff (Infantry), U.S. Army

Joint Author of "Military Field Notebook"

1921

[Transcriber's note: Footnotes have been moved to the end of the book.]

[Illustration: COLONEL ARDANT DU PICQ]

[Illustration:
Letter from Marshal Foch to Major General A. W. Greely
Dated Malsherbe, October 23, 1920]




TRANSLATION OF A LETTER FROM MARSHAL FOCH TO MAJOR GENERAL A. W.
GREELY, DATED MALSHERBE, OCTOBER 23, 1920


   MY DEAR GENERAL:

   Colonel Ardant du Picq was the exponent of _moral force_, the
   most powerful element in the strength of armies. He has shown it to
   be the preponderating influence in the outcome of battles.

   Your son has accomplished a very valuable work in translating his
   writings. One finds his conclusions amply verified in the
   experience of the American Army during the last war, notably in the
   campaign of 1918.

   Accept, my dear General, my best regards.
   F. FOCH.




PREFACE

BY FRANK H. SIMONDS
Author of "History of the World War," "'They Shall Not Pass'--Verdun,"
Etc.


In presenting to the American reading public a translation of a volume
written by an obscure French colonel, belonging to a defeated army, who
fell on the eve of a battle which not alone gave France over to the
enemy but disclosed a leadership so inapt as to awaken the suspicion
of treason, one is faced by the inevitable interrogation--"Why?"

Yet the answer is simple. The value of the book of Ardant du Picq lies
precisely in the fact that it contains not alone the unmistakable
forecast of the defeat, itself, but a luminous statement of those
fundamental principles, the neglect of which led to Gravelotte and
Sedan.

Napoleon has said that in war the moral element is to all others as
three is to one. Moreover, as du Picq impressively demonstrates, while
all other circumstances change with time, the human element remains
the same, capable of just so much endurance, sacrifice, effort, and no
more. Thus, from Caesar to Foch, the essential factor in war endures
unmodified.

And it is not the value of du Picq's book, as an explanation of the
disasters of 1870, but of the triumphs of 1914-18, which gives it
present and permanent interest. It is not as the forecast of why
Bazaine, a type of all French commanders of the Franco-Prussian War,
will fail, but why Foch, Joffre, Petain will succeed, that the volume
invites reading to-day.

Beyond all else, the arresting circumstances in the fragmentary pages,
perfect in themselves but incomplete in the conception of their
author, is the intellectual and the moral kinship they reveal between
the soldier who fell just before the crowning humiliation of
Gravelotte and the victor of Fere Champenoise, the Yser and the
colossal conflict of 1918 to which historians have already applied the
name of the Battle of France, rightly to suggest its magnitude.

Read the hastily compiled lectures of Foch, the teacher of the Ecole
de Guerre, recall the fugitive but impressive words of Foch, the
soldier, uttered on the spur of the moment, filled with homely phrase,
and piquant figure and underlying all, one encounters the same
integral conception of war and of the relation of the moral to the
physical, which fills the all too scanty pages of du Picq.

"For me as a soldier," writes du Picq, "the smallest detail caught on
the spot and in the heat of action is more instructive than all the
Thiers and the Jominis in the world." Compare this with Foch
explaining to his friend Andre de Mariecourt, his own emotions at the
critical hour at Fere Champenoise, when he had to invent something new
to beguile soldiers who had retreated for weeks and been beaten for
days. His tactical problem remained unchanged, but he must give his
soldiers, tired with being beaten to the "old tune" a new air, which
would appeal to them as new, something to which they had not been
beaten, and the same philosophy appears.

Du Picq's contemporaries neglected his warning, they saw only the
outward circumstances of the Napoleonic and Frederican successes. In
vain du Picq warned them that the victories of Frederick were not the
logical outgrowth of the minutiae of the Potsdam parades. But du Picq
dead, the Third Empire fallen, France prostrated but not annihilated
by the defeats of 1870, a new generation emerged, of which Foch was
but the last and most shining example. And this generation went back,
powerfully aided by the words of du Picq, to that older tradition, to
the immutable principles of war.

With surprising exactness du Picq, speaking in the abstract, foretold
an engagement in which the mistakes of the enemy would be
counterbalanced by their energy in the face of French passivity, lack
of any control conception. Forty years later in the Ecole de Guerre,
Foch explained the reasons why the strategy of Moltke, mistaken in all
respects, failed to meet the ruin it deserved, only because at
Gravelotte Bazaine could not make up his mind, solely because of the
absence in French High Command of precisely that "Creed of Combat" the
lack of which du Picq deplored.

Of the value of du Picq's work to the professional soldier, I
naturally cannot speak, but even for the civilian, the student of
military events, of war and of the larger as well as the smaller
circumstances of battle, its usefulness can hardly be exaggerated.
Reading it one understands something, at least of the soul as well as
the science of combat, the great defeats and the great victories of
history seem more intelligible in simple terms of human beings. Beyond
this lies the contemporaneous value due to the fact that nowhere can
one better understand Foch than through the reading of du Picq.

By translating this volume of du Picq and thus making it available for
an American audience whose interest has been inevitably stirred by
recent events, the translators have done a public as well as a
professional service. Both officers enjoyed exceptional opportunities
and experiences on the Western front. Col. Greely from Cantigny to the
close of the battle of the Meuse-Argonne was not only frequently
associated with the French army, but as Chief of Staff of our own
First Division, gained a direct knowledge of the facts of battle,
equal to that of du Picq, himself.

On the professional side the service is obvious, since before the last
war the weakness of the American like the British Army, a weakness
inevitable, given our isolation, lay in the absence of adequate study
of the higher branches of military science and thus the absence of
such a body of highly skilled professional soldiers, as constituted
the French or German General Staff. The present volume is a clear
evidence that American officers themselves have voluntarily undertaken
to make good this lack.

On the non-professional side and for the general reader, the service
is hardly less considerable, since it supplies the least technically
informed with a simply comprehensible explanation of things which
almost every one has struggled to grasp and visualize during the last
six years extending from the battle of Marne in 1914 to that of the
Vistula in 1920.

Of the truth of this latter assertion, a single example will perhaps
suffice. Every forthcoming military study of the campaign of 1914
emphasizes with renewed energy the fact that underlying all the German
conceptions of the opening operations was the purpose to repeat the
achievement of Hannibal at Cannae, by bringing the French to battle
under conditions which should, on a colossal scale, reproduce those of
Hannibal's greatest victory. But nowhere better than in du Picq's
volume, are set forth the essential circumstances of the combat which,
after two thousand years gave to Field Marshal von Schlieffen the root
ideas for the strategy expressed in the first six weeks of 1914. And,
as a final observation, nowhere better than in du Picq's account, can
one find the explanation of why the younger Moltke failed in executing
those plans which gave Hannibal one of the most shining triumphs in
all antiquity.

Thus, although he died in 1870, du Picq lives, through his book, as
one of the most useful guides to a proper understanding of a war
fought nearly half a century later.

FRANK H. SIMONDS.

Snowville, New Hampshire,
October 15, 1920.




TRANSLATORS' NOTE


Colonel Ardant du Picq's "Battle Studies" is a French military
classic. It is known to every French army officer; it is referred to
as an established authority in such works as Marshal Foch's "The
Principles of War." It has been eagerly read in the original by such
American army officers as have chanced upon it; probably only the
scarcity of thinking men with military training has precluded the
earlier appearance of an American edition.

The translators feel that the war with Germany which brought with it
some military training for all the best brains of the country has
prepared the field for an American edition of this book. They are sure
that every American reader who has had actual battle experience in any
capacity will at some point say to himself, "That is absolutely
true...." or, "That reminds me of the day...."

Appendices II, III, IV, and V, appearing in the edition from which
this translation is made, deal with issues and military questions
entirely French and not of general application. They are therefore not
considered as being of sufficient interest to be reproduced herein.
Appendix VI of the original appears herein as Appendix II.

The translation is unpretentious. The translators are content to
exhibit such a work to the American military public without changing
its poignancy and originality. They hope that readers will enjoy it as
much as they have themselves.

J. N. G.

R. C. C.




INTRODUCTION


We present to the public the complete works of Colonel Ardant du Picq,
arranged according to the plan of the author, enlarged by unpublished
fragments and documents.

These unpublished documents are partially known by those who have read
"Studies on Combat" (Hachette & Dumaine, 1880). A second edition was
called for after a considerable time. It has left ineffaceable traces
in the minds of thinking men with experience. By its beauty and the
vigor of its teachings, it has created in a faithful school of
disciples a tradition of correct ideas.

For those familiar with the work, there is no need for emphasizing the
importance and usefulness of this rejuvenated publication. In it they
will find new sources of interest, which will confirm their admiration
for the author.

They will also rejoice in the popularity of their teacher, already
highly regarded in the eyes of his profession on account of his
presentation of conclusions, the truth of which grows with years. His
work merits widespread attention. It would be an error to leave it in
the exclusive possession of special writers and military technicians.
In language which is equal in power and pathetic beauty, it should
carry its light much further and address itself to all readers who
enjoy solid thought. Their ideas broadened, they will, without fail,
join those already initiated.

No one can glance over these pages with indifference. No one can fail
to be moved by the strong and substantial intellect they reveal. No
one can fail to feel their profound depths. To facilitate treatment of
a subject which presents certain difficulties, we shall confine
ourselves to a succinct explanation of its essential elements, the
general conception that unites them, and the purpose of the author.
But we must not forget the dramatic mutilation of the work
unfortunately never completed because of the glorious death of Ardant
du Picq.

When Colonel Ardant du Picq was killed near Metz in 1870 by a Prussian
shell, he left works that divide themselves into two well-defined
categories:

(1) Completed works:

   Pamphlet (printed in 1868 but not intended for sale), which forms
   the first part of the present edition: Ancient Battle.

   A series of memoirs and studies written in 1865. These are partly
   reproduced in Appendices I and II herein.

(2) Notes jotted down on paper, sometimes developed into complete
   chapters not requiring additions or revision, but sometimes
   abridged and drawn up in haste. They reveal a brain completely
   filled with its subject, perpetually working, noting a trait in a
   rapid phrase, in a vibrating paragraph, in observations and
   recollections that a future revision was to compile, unite and
   complete.

   The collection of these notes forms the second part: Modern Battle.

   These notes were inspired by certain studies or memoirs which are
   presented in Appendices I-V, and a Study on Combat, with which the
   Colonel was occupied, and of which we gave a sketch at the end of
   the pamphlet of 1868. He himself started research among the
   officers of his acquaintance, superiors, equals or subordinates,
   who had served in war. This occupied a great part of his life.

In order to collect from these officers, without change or
misrepresentation, statements of their experiences while leading their
men in battle or in their divers contacts with the enemy, he sent to
each one a questionnaire, in the form of a circular. The reproduction
herein is from the copy which was intended for General Lafont de
Villiers, commanding the 21st Division at Limoges. It is impossible to
over-emphasize the great value of this document which gives the key to
the constant meditations of Ardant du Picq, the key to the reforms
which his methodical and logical mind foresaw. It expounds a principle
founded upon exact facts faithfully stated. His entire work, in
embryo, can be seen between the lines of the questionnaire. This was
his first attempt at reaction against the universal routine
surrounding him.

From among the replies which he received and which his family
carefully preserved, we have extracted the most conclusive. They will
be found in Appendix II--Historical Documents. Brought to light, at
the urgent request of the author, they complete the book,
corroborating statements by examples. They illuminate his doctrines by
authentic historical depositions.

In arranging this edition we are guided solely by the absolute respect
which we have for the genius of Ardant du Picq. We have endeavored to
reproduce his papers in their entirety, without removing or adding
anything. Certain disconnected portions have an inspired and fiery
touch which would be lessened by the superfluous finish of an attempt
at editing. Some repetitions are to be found; they show that the
appendices were the basis for the second part of the volume, Modern
Battle. It may be stated that the work, suddenly halted in 1870,
contains criticisms, on the staff for instance, which aim at radical
reforms.

ERNEST JUDET.





CONTENTS



FRONTISPIECE--PORTRAIT OF COLONEL ARDANT DU PICQ

FOREWORD

PREFACE

TRANSLATOR'S NOTE

INTRODUCTION

A MILITARY THINKER

RECORD OF MILITARY SERVICE OF COLONEL ARDANT DU PICQ

EXTRACT FROM THE HISTORY OF THE 10TH INFANTRY REGIMENT



PART ONE: ANCIENT BATTLE


INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER
I   MAN IN PRIMITIVE AND ANCIENT COMBAT

II  KNOWLEDGE OF MAN MADE ROMAN TACTICS; THE SUCCESSES OF HANNIBAL;
    THOSE OF CAESAR

III ANALYSIS OF THE BATTLE OF CANNAE

IV  ANALYSIS OF THE BATTLE OF PHARSALUS AND SOME CHARACTERISTIC
    EXAMPLES

V   MORALE IN ANCIENT BATTLE

VI  HOW REAL COMBATANTS ARE OBTAINED AND HOW THE FIGHTING OF TO-DAY
    REQUIRES THEM TO BE MORE DEPENDABLE THAN IN ANCIENT BATTLE

VII PURPOSE OF THIS STUDY AND WHAT IS NECESSARY TO COMPLETE IT



PART TWO: MODERN BATTLE


I   GENERAL DISCUSSION

    1. Ancient and Modern Battle
    2. Moral Elements in Battle
    3. Material and Moral Effect
    4. The Theory of Strong Battalions
    5. Combat Methods

II  INFANTRY

    1. Masses--Deep Columns
    2. Skirmishers--Supports--Reserves--Squares
    3. Firing
    4. Marches--Camps--Night Attacks

III CAVALRY

    1. Cavalry and Modern Appliances
    2. Cavalry Against Cavalry
    3. Cavalry Against Infantry
    4. Armor and Armament

IV  ARTILLERY

V   COMMAND, GENERAL STAFF AND ADMINISTRATION

VI  SOCIAL AND MILITARY INSTITUTIONS; NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS



APPENDICES


I   MEMORANDUM ON INFANTRY FIRE

    1. Introduction
    2. Succinct History of the Development of Small Arms, from
       the Arquebus to Our Rifle
    3. Progressive Introduction of Fire-Arms Into the Armament
       of the Infantryman
    4. The Classes of Fire Employed with Each Weapon
    5. Methods of Fire Used in the Presence of the Enemy;
       Methods Recommended or Ordered but Impractical
    6. Fire at Will--Its Efficacy
    7. Fire by Rank Is a Fire to Occupy the Men in Ranks
    8. The Deadly Fire Is the Fire of Skirmishers
    9. The Absolute Impossibility of Fire at Command

II  HISTORICAL DOCUMENTS

    1. Cavalry (An Extract from Xenophon)
    2. Marius Against the Cimbrians (Extract from Plutarch's
       "Life of Marius")
    3. The Battle of The Alma (Extract from the Correspondence
       of Colonel Ardant du Picq)
    4. The Battle of the Alma (Extract from the Correspondence
       of Colonel Ardant du Picq)
    5. The Battle of Inkermann (Extract from the Correspondence
       of Colonel Ardant du Picq)
    6. The Battle of Magenta (Extract from the Correspondence of
       Colonel Ardant du Picq)
    7. The Battle of Solferino (Extract from the Correspondence
       of Colonel Ardant du Picq)
    8. Mentana (Extract from the Correspondence of Colonel Ardant
       du Picq)





BATTLE STUDIES




A MILITARY THINKER


Near Longeville-les-Metz on the morning of August 15, 1870, a stray
projectile from a Prussian gun mortally wounded the Colonel of the
10th Regiment of the Line. The obscure gunner never knew that he had
done away with one of the most intelligent officers of our army, one
of the most forceful writers, one of the most clear-sighted
philosophers whom sovereign genius had ever created.

Ardant du Picq, according to the Annual Register, commanded but a
regiment. He was fitted for the first rank of the most exalted. He
fell at the hour when France was thrown into frightful chaos, when all
that he had foreseen, predicted and dreaded, was being terribly
fulfilled. New ideas, of which he was the unknown trustee and
unacknowledged prophet, triumphed then at our expense. The disaster
that carried with it his sincere and revivifying spirit, left in the
tomb of our decimated divisions an evidence of the necessity for
reform. When our warlike institutions were perishing from the lack of
thought, he represented in all its greatness the true type of military
thinker. The virile thought of a military thinker alone brings forth
successes and maintains victorious nations. Fatal indolence brought
about the invasion, the loss of two provinces, the bog of moral
miseries and social evils which beset vanquished States.

The heart and brain of Ardant du Picq guarded faithfully a worthy but
discredited cult. Too frequently in the course of our history virtues
are forsaken during long periods, when it seems that the entire race
is hopelessly abased. The mass perceives too late in rare individuals
certain wasted talents--treasures of sagacity, spiritual vigor, heroic
and almost supernatural comprehension. Such men are prodigious
exceptions in times of material decadence and mental laxness. They
inherit all the qualities that have long since ceased to be current.
They serve as examples and rallying points for other generations, more
clear-sighted and less degenerate. On reading over the extraordinary
work of Ardant du Picq, that brilliant star in the eclipse of our
military faculties, I think of the fatal shot that carried him off
before full use had been found for him, and I am struck by melancholy.
Our fall appears more poignant. His premature end seems a punishment
for his contemporaries, a bitter but just reproach.

Fortunately, more honored and believed in by his successors, his once
unappreciated teaching contributes largely to the uplift and to the
education of our officers. They will be inspired by his original views
and the permanent virtue contained therein. They will learn therefrom
the art of leading and training our young soldiers and can hope to
retrieve the cruel losses of their predecessors.

Ardant du Picq amazes one by his tenacity and will power which,
without the least support from the outside, animate him under the
trying conditions of his period of isolated effort.

In an army in which most of the seniors disdained the future and
neglected their responsibilities, rested satisfied on the laurels of
former campaigns and relied on superannuated theories and the
exercises of a poor parade, scorned foreign organizations and believed
in an acquired and constant superiority that dispenses with all work,
and did not suspect even the radical transformations which the
development of rifles and rapid-fire artillery entail; Ardant du Picq
worked for the common good. In his modest retreat, far from the
pinnacles of glory, he tended a solitary shrine of unceasing activity
and noble effort. He burned with the passions which ought to have
moved the staff and higher commanders. He watched while his
contemporaries slept.

Toward the existing system of instruction and preparation which the
first blow shattered, his incorruptible honesty prevented him from
being indulgent. While terrified leaders passed from arrogance or
thoughtlessness to dejection and confusion, the blow was being struck.
Served by his marvelous historical gifts, he studied the laws of
ancient combat in the poorly interpreted but innumerable documents of
the past. Then, guided by the immortal light which never failed, the
feverish curiosity of this soldier's mind turned towards the research
of the laws of modern combat, the subject of his preference. In this
study he developed to perfection his psychological attainments. By the
use of these attainments he simplified the theory of the conduct of
war. By dissecting the motor nerves of the human heart, he released
basic data on the essential principles of combat. He discovered the
secret of combat, the way to victory.

Never for a second did Ardant du Picq forget that combat is the
object, the cause of being, the supreme manifestation of armies. Every
measure which departs therefrom, which relegates it to the middle
ground is deceitful, chimerical, fatal. All the resources accumulated
in time of peace, all the tactical evolutions, all the strategical
calculations are but conveniences, drills, reference marks to lead up
to it. His obsession was so overpowering that his presentation of it
will last as long as history. This obsession is the role of man in
combat. Man is the incomparable instrument whose elements, character,
energies, sentiments, fears, desires, and instincts are stronger than
all abstract rules, than all bookish theories. War is still more of an
art than a science. The inspirations which reveal and mark the great
strategists, the leaders of men, form the unforeseen element, the
divine part. Generals of genius draw from the human heart ability to
execute a surprising variety of movements which vary the routine; the
mediocre ones, who have no eyes to read readily therein, are doomed to
the worst errors.

Ardant du Picq, haunted by the need of a doctrine which would correct
existing evils and disorders, was continually returning to the
fountain-head. Anxious to instruct promising officers, to temper them
by irrefutable lessons, to mature them more rapidly, to inspire them
with his zeal for historical incidents, he resolved to carry on and
add to his personal studies while aiding them. Daring to take a
courageous offensive against the general inertia of the period, he
translated the problem of his whole life into a series of basic
questions. He presented in their most diverse aspects, the basic
questions which perplex all military men, those of which knowledge in
a varying degree of perfection distinguish and classify military men.
The nervous grasp of an incomparable style models each of them, carves
them with a certain harshness, communicates to them a fascinating yet
unknown authority which crystallizes them in the mind, at the same
time giving to them a positive form that remains true for all armies,
for all past, present and future centuries. Herewith is the text of
the concise and pressing questions which have not ceased to be as
important to-day (1902) as they were in 1870:

"_General_,

"In the last century, after the improvements of the rifle and field
artillery by Frederick, and the Prussian successes in war--to-day,
after the improvement of the new rifle and cannon to which in part the
recent victories are due--we find all thinking men in the army asking
themselves the question: 'How shall we fight to-morrow?' We have no
creed on the subject of combat. And the most opposing methods confuse
the intelligence of military men.

"Why? A common error at the starting point. One might say that no one
is willing to acknowledge that it is necessary to understand yesterday
in order to know to-morrow, for the things of yesterday are nowhere
plainly written. The lessons of yesterday exist solely in the memory
of those who know how to remember because they have known how to see,
and those individuals have never spoken. I make an appeal to one of
those.

"The smallest detail, taken from an actual incident in war, is more
instructive for me, a soldier, than all the Thiers and Jominis in the
world. They speak, no doubt, for the heads of states and armies but
they never show me what I wish to know--a battalion, a company, a
squad, in action.

"Concerning a regiment, a battalion, a company, a squad, it is
interesting to know: The disposition taken to meet the enemy or the
order for the march toward them. What becomes of this disposition or
this march order under the isolated or combined influences of
accidents of the terrain and the approach of danger?

"Is this order changed or is it continued in force when approaching
the enemy?

"What becomes of it upon arriving within the range of the guns, within
the range of bullets?

"At what distance is a voluntary or an ordered disposition taken
before starting operations for commencing fire, for charging, or both?

"How did the fight start? How about the firing? How did the men adapt
themselves? (This may be learned from the results: So many bullets
fired, so many men shot down--when such data are available.) How was
the charge made? At what distance did the enemy flee before it? At
what distance did the charge fall back before the fire or the good
order and good dispositions of the enemy, or before such and such a
movement of the enemy? What did it cost? What can be said about all
these with reference to the enemy?

"The behavior, i.e., the order, the disorder, the shouts, the
silence, the confusion, the calmness of the officers and men whether
with us or with the enemy, before, during, and after the combat?

"How has the soldier been controlled and directed during the action?
At what instant has he had a tendency to quit the line in order to
remain behind or to rush ahead?

"At what moment, if the control were escaping from the leader's hands,
has it no longer been possible to exercise it?

"At what instant has this control escaped from the battalion
commander? When from the captain, the section leader, the squad
leader? At what time, in short, if such a thing did take place, was
there but a disordered impulse, whether to the front or to the rear
carrying along pell-mell with it both the leaders and men?

"Where and when did the halt take place?

"Where and when were the leaders able to resume control of the men?

"At what moments before, during, or after the day, was the battalion
roll-call, the company roll-call made? The results of these
roll-calls?

"How many dead, how many wounded on the one side and on the other; the
kind of wounds of the officers, non-commissioned officers, corporals,
privates, etc., etc.?

"All these details, in a word, enlighten either the material or the
moral side of the action, or enable it to be visualized. Possibly, a
closer examination might show that they are matters infinitely more
instructive to us as soldiers than all the discussions imaginable on
the plans and general conduct of the campaigns of the greatest captain
in the great movements of the battle field. From colonel to private we
are soldiers, not generals, and it is therefore our trade that we
desire to know.

"Certainly one cannot obtain all the details of the same incident. But
from a series of true accounts there should emanate an ensemble of
characteristic details which in themselves are very apt to show in a
striking, irrefutable way what was necessarily and forcibly taking
place at such and such a moment of an action in war. Take the estimate
of the soldier obtained in this manner to serve as a base for what
might possibly be a rational method of fighting. It will put us on
guard against _a priori_ and pedantic school methods.

"Whoever has seen, turns to a method based on his knowledge, his
personal experience as a soldier. But experience is long and life is
short. The experiences of each cannot therefore be completed except by
those of others.

"And that is why, General, I venture to address myself to you for your
experiences.

"Proofs have weight.

"As for the rest, whether it please you to aid or not, General, kindly
accept the assurance of most respectful devotion from your obedient
servant."

       *       *       *       *       *

The reading of this unique document is sufficient to explain the glory
that Ardant du Picq deserved. In no other career has a professional
ever reflected more clearly the means of pushing his profession to
perfection; in no profession has a deeper penetration of the resources
been made.

It pleases me particularly to associate the two words 'penseur' and
'militaire,' which, at the present time, the ignorance of preconceived
opinion too frequently separates. Because such opinion is on the verge
of believing them to be incompatible and contradictory.

Yet no calling other than the true military profession is so fitted to
excite brain activity. It is preeminently the calling of action, at
the same time diverse in its combinations and changing according to
the time and locality wherein it is put to practice. No other
profession is more complex nor more difficult, since it has for its
aim and reason the instruction of men to overcome by training and
endurance the fatigue and perils against which the voice of
self-preservation is raised in fear; in other words, to draw from
nature what is most opposed and most antipathic to this nature.

There is, however, much of routine in the customs of military life,
and, abuse of it may bring about gross satires which in turn bring it
into derision. To be sure, the career has two phases because it must
fulfill simultaneously two exigencies. From this persons of moderate
capacity draw back and are horrified. They solve the question by the
sacrifice of the one or the other. If one considers only the lower and
somewhat vulgar aspect of military life it is found to be composed of
monotonous obligations clothed in a mechanical procedure of
indispensable repetition. If one learns to grasp it in its ensemble
and large perspective, it will be found that the days of extreme trial
demand prodigies of vigor, spirit, intelligence, and decision!
Regarded from this angle and supported in this light, the commonplace
things of wearisome garrison life have as counterweights certain
sublime compensations. These compensations preclude the false and
contemptible results which come from intellectual idleness and the
habit of absolute submission. If it yields to their narcotic charms,
the best brain grows rusty and atrophies in the long run. Incapable of
virile labor, it rebels at a renewal of its processes in sane
initiative. An army in which vigilance is not perpetual is sick until
the enemy demonstrates it to be dead.

Far, then, from attaching routine as an indispensable companion to
military discipline it must be shown continually that in it lies
destruction and loss. Military discipline does not degenerate except
when it has not known the cult of its vitality and the secret of its
grandeur. The teachers of war have all placed this truth as a preface
to their triumphs and we find the most illustrious teachers to be the
most severe. Listen to this critique of Frederick the Great on the
maneuvers which he conducted in Silesia:

"The great mistake in inspections is that you officers amuse
yourselves with God knows what buffooneries and never dream in the
least of serious service. This is a source of stupidity which would
become most dangerous in case of a serious conflict. Take shoe-makers
and tailors and make generals of them and they will not commit worse
follies! These blunders are made on a small as well as on a large
scale. Consequently, in the greatest number of regiments, the private
is not well trained; in Zaramba's regiment he is the worst; in
Thadden's he amounts to nothing; and to no more in Keller's, Erlach's,
and Haager's. Why? Because the officers are lazy and try to get out of
a difficulty by giving themselves the least trouble possible."

       *       *       *       *       *

In default of exceptional generals who remold in some campaigns, with
a superb stroke, the damaged or untempered military metal, it is of
importance to supply it with the ideals of Ardant du Picq. Those who
are formed by his image, by his book, will never fall into error. His
book has not been written to please aesthetic preciseness, but with a
sincerity which knows no limit. It therefore contains irrefutable
facts and theories.

The solidity of these fragmentary pages defies time; the work
interrupted by the German shell is none the less erected for eternity.
The work has muscles, nerves and a soul. It has the transparent
concentration of reality. A thought may be expressed by a single word.
The terseness of the calcined phrase explains the interior fire of it
all, the magnificent conviction of the author. The distinctness of
outline, the most astounding brevity of touch, is such that the vision
of the future bursts forth from the resurrection of the past. The work
contains, indeed, substance and marrow of a prophetic experience.

Amidst the praise rendered to the scintillating beauties of this book,
there is perhaps, none more impressive than that of Barbey
d'Aurevilly, an illustrious literary man of a long and generous
patrician lineage. His comment, kindled with lyric enthusiasm, is
illuminating. It far surpasses the usual narrow conception of
technical subjects. Confessing his professional ignorance in matters
of war, his sincere eulogy of the eloquent amateur is therefore only
the more irresistible.

"Never," writes Barbey d'Aurevilly, "has a man of action--of brutal
action in the eyes of universal prejudice--more magnificently
glorified the spirituality of war. Mechanics--abominable
mechanics--takes possession of the world, crushing it under its stupid
and irresistible wheels. By the action of newly discovered and
improved appliances the science of war assumes vast proportions as a
means of destruction. Yet here, amid the din of this upset modern
world we find a brain sufficiently master of its own thoughts as not
to permit itself to be dominated by these horrible discoveries which,
we are told, would make impossible Fredericks of Prussia and Napoleons
and lower them to the level of the private soldier! Colonel Ardant du
Picq tells us somewhere that he has never had entire faith in the huge
battalions which these two great men, themselves alone worth more than
the largest battalions, believed in. Well, to-day, this vigorous brain
believes no more in the mechanical or mathematical force which is
going to abolish these great battalions. A calculator without the
least emotion, who considers the mind of man the essential in
war--because it is this mind that makes war--he surely sees better
than anybody else a profound change in the exterior conditions of war
which he must consider. But the spiritual conditions which are
produced in war have not changed. Such, is the eternal mind of man
raised to its highest power by discipline. Such, is the Roman cement
of this discipline that makes of men indestructible walls. Such, is
the cohesion, the solidarity between men and their leaders. Such, is
the moral influence of the impulse which gives the certainty of
victory.

"'To conquer is to advance,' de Maistre said one day, puzzled at this
phenomenon of victory. The author of "Etudes sur le Combat" says more
simply: 'To conquer is to be sure to overcome.' In fine, it is the
mind that wins battles, that will always win them, that always has won
them throughout the world's history. The spirituality, the moral
quality of war, has not changed since those times. Mechanics, modern
arms, all the artillery invented by man and his science, will not make
an end to this thing, so lightly considered at the moment and called
the human soul. Books like that of Ardant du Picq prevent it from
being disdained. If no other effect should be produced by this sublime
book, this one thing would justify it. But there will be others--do
not doubt it--I wish merely to point out the sublimity of this
didactic book which, for me, has wings like celestial poetry and which
has carried me above and far away from the materialistic abjectness of
my time. The technique of tactics and the science of war are beyond my
province. I am not, like the author, erudite on maneuvers and the
battle field. But despite my ignorance of things exclusively military,
I have felt the truth of the imperious demonstrations with which it is
replete, as one feels the presence of the sun behind a cloud. His book
has over the reader that moral ascendancy which is everything in war
and which determines success, according to the author. This
ascendancy, like truth itself, is the sort which cannot be questioned.
Coming from the superior mind of a leader who inspires faith it
imposes obedience by its very strength. Colonel Ardant du Picq was a
military writer only, with a style of his own. He has the Latin
brevity and concentration. He retains his thought, assembles it and
always puts it out in a compact phrase like a cartridge. His style has
the rapidity and precision of the long-range arms which have dethroned
the bayonet. He would have been a writer anywhere. He was a writer by
nature. He was of that sacred phalanx of those who have a style all to
themselves."

Barbey d'Aurevilly rebels against tedious technicalities. Carried away
by the author's historical and philosophical faculties, he soars
without difficulty to the plane of Ardant du Picq. In like manner, du
Picq ranges easily from the most mediocre military operations to the
analysis of the great functions of policy of government and the
evolution of nations.

Who could have unraveled with greater finesse the causes of the
insatiable desires of conquest by the new power which was so desirous
of occupying the leading role on the world's stage? If our diplomats,
our ministers and our generals had seized the warning of 1866, the
date of the defeat of Austria, it is possible that we might have been
spared our own defeats.

"Has an aristocracy any excuse for existing if it is not military? No.
The Prussian aristocracy is essentially military. In its ranks it does
accept officers of plebeian extraction, but only under condition that
they permit themselves to be absorbed therein.

"Is not an aristocracy essentially proud? If it were not proud it
would lack confidence. The Prussian aristocracy is, therefore,
haughty; it desires domination by force and its desire to rule, to
dominate more and more, is the essence of its existence. It rules by
war; it wishes war; it must have war at the proper time. Its leaders
have the good judgment to choose the right moment. This love of war is
in the very fiber, the very makeup of its life as an aristocracy.

"Every nation that has an aristocracy, a military nobility, is
organized in a military way. The Prussian officer is an accomplished
gentleman and nobleman; by instruction or examination he is most
capable; by education, most worthy. He is an officer and commands from
two motives, the French officer from one alone.

"Prussia, in spite of all the veils concealing reality, is a military
organization conducted by a military corporation. A nation,
democratically constituted, is not organized from a military point of
view. It is, therefore, as against the other, in a state of
unpreparedness for war.

"A military nation and a warlike nation are not necessarily the same.
The French are warlike from organization and instinct. They are every
day becoming less and less military.

"In being the neighbor of a military nation, there is no security for
a democratic nation; the two are born enemies; the one continually
menaces the good influences, if not the very existence of the other.
As long as Prussia is not democratic she is a menace to us.

"The future seems to belong to democracy, but, before this future is
attained by Europe, who will say that victory and domination will not
belong for a time to military organization? It will presently perish
for the lack of sustenance of life, when having no more foreign
enemies to vanquish, to watch, to fight for control, it will have no
reason for existence."

In tracing a portrait so much resembling bellicose and conquering
Prussia, the sharp eye of Ardant du Picq had recognized clearly the
danger which immediately threatened us and which his deluded and
trifling fellow citizens did not even suspect. The morning after
Sadowa, not a single statesman or publicist had yet divined what the
Colonel of the 10th Regiment of the Line had, at first sight,
understood. Written before the catastrophes of Froeschwiller, Metz and
Sedan, the fragment seems, in a retrospective way, an implacable
accusation against those who deceived themselves about the
Hohenzollern country by false liberalism or a softening of the brain.

Unswerved by popular ideas, by the artificial, by the trifles
of treaties, by the chimera of theories, by the charlatanism
of bulletins, by the nonsense of romantic fiction, by the
sentimentalities of vain chivalry, Ardant du Picq, triumphant in
history, is even more the incomparable master in the field of his
laborious days and nights, the field of war itself. Never has a
clearer vision fathomed the bloody mysteries of the formidable test of
war. Here man appears as his naked self. He is a poor thing when he
succumbs to unworthy deeds and panics. He is great under the impulse
of voluntary sacrifice which transforms him under fire and for honor
or the salvation of others makes him face death.

The sound and complete discussions of Ardant du Picq take up, in a
poignant way, the setting of every military drama. They envelop in a
circle of invariable phenomena the apparent irregularity of combat,
determining the critical point in the outcome of the battle. Whatever
be the conditions, time or people, he gives a code of rules which will
not perish. With the enthusiasm of Pascal, who should have been a
soldier, Ardant du Picq has the preeminent gift of expressing the
infinite in magic words. He unceasingly opens an abyss under the feet
of the reader. The whole metaphysics of war is contained therein and
is grasped at a single glance.

He shows, weighed in the scales of an amazing exactitude, the normal
efficiency of an army; a multitude of beings shaken by the most
contradictory passions, first desiring to save their own skins and yet
resigned to any risk for the sake of a principle. He shows the
quantity and quality of possible efforts, the aggregate of losses, the
effects of training and impulse, the intrinsic value of the troops
engaged. This value is the sum of all that the leader can extract from
any and every combination of physical preparation, confidence, fear of
punishment, emulation, enthusiasm, inclination, the promise of
success, administration of camps, fire discipline, the influence of
ability and superiority, etc. He shows the tragic depths, so somber
below, so luminous above, which appear in the heart of the combatant
torn between fear and duty. In the private soldier the sense of duty
may spring from blind obedience; in the non-commissioned officer,
responsible for his detachment, from devotion to his trade; in the
commanding officer, from supreme responsibility! It is in battle that
a military organization justifies its existence. Money spent by the
billions, men trained by the millions, are gambled on one irrevocable
moment. Organization decides the terrible contest which means the
triumph or the downfall of the nation! The harsh rays of glory beam
above the field of carnage, destroying the vanquished without
scorching the victor.

Such are the basic elements of strategy and tactics!

There is danger in theoretical speculation of battle, in prejudice, in
false reasoning, in pride, in braggadocio. There is one safe resource,
the return to nature.

The strategy that moves in elevated spheres is in danger of being lost
in the clouds. It becomes ridiculous as soon as it ceases to conform
to actual working tactics. In his classical work on the decisive
battle of August 18, 1870, Captain Fritz Hoenig has reached a sound
conclusion. After his biting criticism of the many gross errors of
Steinmetz and Zastrow, after his description of the triple panic of
the German troops opposite the French left in the valley and the
ravine of the Mance, he ends by a reflection which serves as a
striking ending to the book. He says, "The grandest illustration of
Moltke's strategy was the battle of Gravelotte-Saint Privat; but the
battle of Gravelotte has taught us one thing, and that is, the best
strategy cannot produce good results if tactics is at fault."

The right kind of tactics is not improvised. It asserts itself in the
presence of the enemy but it is learned before meeting the enemy.

"There are men," says Ardant du Picq, "such as Marshal Bugeaud, who
are born military in character, mind, intelligence and temperament.
Not all leaders are of this stamp. There is, then, need for standard
or regulation tactics appropriate to the national character which
should be the guide for the ordinary commander and which do not exact
of him the exceptional qualities of a Bugeaud."

"Tactics is an art based on the knowledge of how to make men fight
with their maximum energy against fear, a maximum which organization
alone can give."

"And here confidence appears. It is not the enthusiastic and
thoughtless confidence of tumultuous or improvised armies that gives
way on the approach of danger to a contrary sentiment which sees
treason everywhere; but the intimate, firm, conscious confidence which
alone makes true soldiers and does not disappear at the moment of
action."

"We now have an army. It is not difficult for us to see that people
animated by passions, even people who know how to die without
flinching, strong in the face of death, but without discipline and
solid organization, are conquered by others who are individually less
valiant but firmly organized, all together and one for all."

"Solidarity and confidence cannot be improvised. They can be born only
of mutual acquaintanceship which establishes pride and makes unity.
And, from unity comes in turn the feeling of force, that force which
gives to the attack the courage and confidence of victory. Courage,
that is to say, the domination of the will over instinct even in the
greatest danger, leads finally to victory or defeat."

In asking for a doctrine in combat and in seeking to base it on the
moral element, Ardant du Picq was ahead of his generation. He has had
a very great influence. But, the doctrine is not yet established.

How to approach the adversary? How to pass from the defensive to the
offensive? How to regulate the shock? How to give orders that can be
executed? How to transmit them surely? How to execute them by
economizing precious lives? Such are the distressing problems that
beset generals and others in authority. The result is that presidents,
kings and emperors hesitate, tremble, interrogate, pile reports upon
reports, maneuvers upon maneuvers, retard the improvement of their
military material, their organization, their equipment.

The only leaders who are equal to the difficulties of future war, come
to conclusions expressed in almost the same terms. Recently General de
Negrier, after having insisted that physical exhaustion determined by
the nervous tension of the soldier, increased in surprising
proportions according to the invisibility of the adversary, expressed
himself as follows:

"The tide of battle is in the hands of each fighter, and never, at any
time, has the individual bravery of the soldier had more importance.

"Whatever the science of the superior commander, the genius of his
strategic combinations, the precision of his concentrations, whatever
numerical superiority he may have, victory will escape him if the
soldier does not conduct himself without being watched, and if he is
not personally animated by the resolution to conquer or to perish. He
needs much greater energy than formerly.

"He no longer has the intoxication of ancient attacks in mass to
sustain him. Formerly, the terrible anxiety of waiting made him wish
for the violent blow, dangerous, but soon passed. Now, all his normal
and physical powers are tried for long hours and, in such a test, he
will have but the resoluteness of his own heart to sustain him.

"Armies of to-day gain decisions by action in open order, where each
soldier must act individually with will and initiative to attack the
enemy and destroy him.

"The Frenchman has always been an excellent rifleman, intelligent,
adroit and bold. He is naturally brave. The metal is good; the problem
is to temper it. It must be recognized that to-day this task is not
easy. The desire for physical comfort, the international theories
which come therefrom, preferring economic slavery and work for the
profit of the stranger to the struggle, do not incite the Frenchman to
give his life in order to save that of his brother.

"The new arms are almost valueless in the hands of weakhearted
soldiers, no matter what their number may be. On the contrary, the
demoralizing power of rapid and smokeless firing, which certain armies
still persist in not acknowledging, manifests itself with so much the
more force as each soldier possesses greater valor and cool energy.

"It is then essential to work for the development of the moral forces
of the nation. They alone will sustain the soldier in the distressing
test of battle where death comes unseen.

"That is the most important of the lessons of the South African war.
Small nations will find therein the proof that, in preparing their
youth for their duties as soldiers and creating in the hearts of all
the wish for sacrifice, they are certain to live free; but only at
this price."

This profession of faith contradicts the imbecile sophisms foolishly
put into circulation by high authority and a thoughtless press, on the
efficiency of the mass, which is nothing but numbers, on the fantastic
value of new arms, which are declared sufficient for gaining a victory
by simple mechanical perfection, on the suppression of individual
courage. It is almost as though courage had become a superfluous and
embarrassing factor. Nothing is more likely to poison the army. Ardant
du Picq is the best specific against the heresies and the follies of
ignorance or of pedantry. Here are some phrases of unerring truth.
They ought to be impressed upon all memories, inscribed upon the walls
of our military schools. They ought to be learned as lessons by our
officers and they ought to rule them as regulations and pass into
their blood:

"Man is capable of but a given quantity of fear. To-day one must
swallow in five minutes the dose that one took in an hour in Turenne's
day."

"To-day there is greater need than ever for rigid formation."

"Who can say that he never felt fear in battle? And with modern
appliances, with their terrible effect on the nervous system,
discipline is all the more necessary because one fights only in open
formation."

"Combat exacts a moral cohesion, a solidarity more compact that ever
before."

"Since the invention of fire arms, the musket, rifle, cannon, the
distances of mutual aid and support are increased between the various
arms. The more men think themselves isolated, the more need they have
of high morale."

"We are brought by dispersion to the need of a cohesion greater than
ever before."

"It is a truth, so clear as to be almost naive, that if one does not
wish bonds broken, he should make them elastic and thereby strengthen
them."

"It is not wise to lead eighty thousand men upon the battle field, of
whom but fifty thousand will fight. It would be better to have fifty
thousand all of whom would fight. These fifty thousand would have
their hearts in the work more than the others, who should have
confidence in their comrades but cannot when one-third of them shirk
their work."

"The role of the skirmisher becomes more and more predominant. It is
more necessary to watch over and direct him as he is used against
deadlier weapons and as he is consequently more prone to try to escape
from them at all costs in any direction."

"The thing is then to find a method that partially regulates the
action of our soldiers who advance by fleeing or escape by advancing,
as you like, and if something unexpected surprises them, escape as
quickly by falling back."

"Esprit de corps improves with experience in wars. War becomes shorter
and shorter, and more and more violent; therefore, create in advance
an esprit de corps."

These truths are eternal. This whole volume is but their masterful
development. They prove that together with audacious sincerity in the
cooerdination of facts and an infallible judgment, Ardant du Picq
possessed prescience in the highest degree. His prophetic eye
distinguished sixty years ago the constituent principles of a good
army. These are the principles which lead to victory. They are
radically opposed to those which enchant our parliamentarians or
military politicians, which are based on a fatal favoritism and which
precipitate wars.

Ardant du Picq is not alone a superior doctrinaire. He will be
consulted with profit in practical warlike organization. No one has
better depicted the character of modern armies. No one knew better the
value of what Clausewitz called, "The product of armed force and the
country's force ... the heart and soul of a nation."

No more let us forget that he launched, before the famous prediction
of von der Goltz, this optimistic view well calculated to rekindle the
zeal of generals who struggle under the weight of enormous tasks
incident to obligatory service.

"Extremes meet in many things. In the ancient times of conflict with
pike and sword, armies were seen to conquer other solid armies even
though one against two. Who knows if the perfection of long-range arms
might not bring back these heroic victories? Who knows whether a
smaller number by some combination of good sense or genius, or morale,
and of appliances will not overcome a greater number equally well
armed?"

After the abandonment of the law of 1872, and the repeal of the law of
1889, and before the introduction of numerous and disquieting reforms
in recruitment and consequently, in the education of our regiments,
would it not be opportune to study Ardant du Picq and look for the
secret of force in his ideas rather than in the deceptive illusions of
military automatism and materialism?

The martial mission of France is no more ended than war itself. The
severities of war may be deplored, but the precarious justice of
arbitration tribunals, still weak and divested of sanction, has not
done away with its intervention in earthly quarrels. I do not suppose
that my country is willing to submit to the mean estate, scourged with
superb contempt by Donoso Cortes, who says:--

"When a nation shows a civilized horror of war, it receives directly
the punishment of its mistake. God changes its sex, despoils it of its
common mark of virility, changes it into a feminine nation and sends
conquerors to ravish it of its honor."

France submits sometimes to the yoke of subtle dialecticians who
preach total disarmament, who spread insanely disastrous doctrine of
capitulation, glorify disgrace and humiliation, and stupidly drive us
on to suicide. The manly counsels of Ardant du Picq are admirable
lessons for a nation awakening. Since she must, sooner or later, take
up her idle sword again, may France learn from him to fight well, for
herself and for humanity!

ERNEST JUDET.
PARIS, October 10, 1902.

       *       *       *       *       *

Ardant du Picq has said little about himself in his writings. He veils
with care his personality. His life and career, little known, are the
more worthy of the reader's interest, because the man is as original
as the writer. To satisfy a natural curiosity, I asked the Colonel's
family for the details of his life, enshrined in their memory. His
brother has kindly furnished them in a letter to me. It contains many
unpublished details and shows traits of character which confirm our
estimate of the man, Ardant du Picq. It completes very happily the
impression made by his book.

"PARIS, October 12, 1903.

"_Sir,_

"Herewith are some random biographical notes on the author of 'Etudes
sur le Combat' which you requested of me.

"My brother entered Saint-Cyr quite late, at twenty-one years, which
was I believe the age limit at that time. This was not his initial
preference. He had a marked preference for a naval career, in which
adventure seemed to offer an opportunity for his activity, and which
he would have entered if the circumstances had so permitted. His
childhood was turbulent and somewhat intractable; but, attaining
adolescence, he retained from his former violence a very pronounced
taste for physical exercise, especially for gymnastics, little
practiced then, to which he was naturally inclined by his agility and
muscular strength.

"He was successful in his classes, very much so in studies which were
to his taste, principally French composition. In this he rose above
the usual level of schoolboy exercises when the subject interested
him. Certain other branches that were uninteresting or distasteful to
him, as for instance Latin Grammar, he neglected. I do not remember
ever having seen him attend a distribution of prizes, although he was
highly interested, perhaps because he was too interested. On these
occasions, he would disappear generally after breakfast and not be
seen until evening. His bent was toward mechanical notions and
handiwork. He was not uninterested in mathematics but his interest in
this was ordinary. He was nearly refused entrance to Saint-Cyr. He
became confused before the examiners and the results of the first part
of the tests were almost negligible. He consoled himself with his
favorite maxim as a young man: 'Onward philosophy.' Considering the
first test as over and done with, he faced the second test with
perfect indifference. This attitude gave him another opportunity and
he came out with honors. As he had done well with the written test on
'Hannibal's Campaigns,' he was given a passing grade.

"At school he was liked by all his comrades for his good humor and
frank and sympathetic character. Later, in the regiment, he gained
naturally and without effort the affection of his equals and the
respect of his subordinates. The latter were grateful to him for the
real, cordial and inspiring interest he showed in their welfare, for
he was familiar with the details of the service and with the soldier's
equipment. He would not compromise on such matters and prevaricators
who had to do with him did not emerge creditably.

"It can be said that after reaching manhood he never lied. The
absolute frankness from which he never departed under any
circumstances gave him prestige superior to his rank. A mere
Lieutenant, he voted 'No' to the Coup d'Etat of December 2, and was
admonished by his colonel who was sorry to see him compromise thus his
future. He replied with his usual rectitude: 'Colonel, since my
opinion was asked for, I must suppose that it was wanted.'

"On the eve of the Crimean war, his regiment, (67th) not seeming
destined to take the field, he asked for and obtained a transfer to
the light infantry (9th Battalion). It was with this battalion that he
served in the campaign. When it commenced, he made his first
appearance in the fatal Dobrutscha expedition. This was undertaken in
a most unhealthy region, on the chance of finding there Cossacks who
would have furnished matter for a communique. No Cossacks were found,
but the cholera was. It cut down in a few hours, so as to speak, a
large portion of the total strength. My brother, left with the rear
guard to bury the dead, burn their effects and bring up the sick, was
in his turn infected. The attack was very violent and he recovered
only because he would not give in to the illness. Evacuated to the
Varna hospital, he was driven out the first night by the burning of
the town and was obliged to take refuge in the surrounding fields
where the healthfulness of the air gave him unexpected relief.
Returned to France as a convalescent, he remained there until the
month of December (1854). He then rejoined his regiment and withstood
to the end the rigors of the winter and the slowness of the siege.

"Salle's division to which the Trochu brigade belonged, and in which
my brother served, was charged with the attack on the central bastion.
This operation was considered a simple diversion without a chance of
success. My brother, commanding the storming column of his battalion,
had the good fortune to come out safe and sound from the deadly fire
to which he was exposed and which deprived the battalion of several
good officers. He entered the bastion with a dozen men. All were
naturally made prisoners after a resistance which would have cost my
brother his life if the bugler at his side had not warded off a saber
blow at his head. Upon his return from captivity, in the first months
of 1856, he was immediately made major in the 100th Regiment of the
Line, at the instance of General Trochu who regarded him highly. He
was called the following year to the command of the 16th Battalion of
Foot Chasseurs. He served with this battalion during the Syrian
campaign where there was but little serious action.

"Back again in France, his promotion to the grade of
lieutenant-colonel, notwithstanding his excellent ratings and his
place on the promotion list, was long retarded by the ill-will of
Marshal Randon, the Minister of War. Marshal Randon complained of his
independent character and bore him malice from an incident relative to
the furnishing of shoes intended for his battalion. My brother,
questioned by Marshal Niel about the quality of the lot of shoes, had
frankly declared it bad.

"Promoted finally to lieutenant-colonel in the 55th in Algeria, he
took the field there in two campaigns, I believe. Appointed colonel of
the 10th of the Line in February, 1869, he was stationed at Lorient
and at Limoges during the eighteen months before the war with Germany.
He busied himself during this period with the preparation of his work,
soliciting from all sides first-hand information. It was slow in
coming in, due certainly to indifference rather than ill-will. He made
several trips to Paris for the purpose of opening the eyes of those in
authority to the defective state of the army and the perils of the
situation. Vain attempts! 'They take all that philosophically,' he
used to say.

"Please accept, Sir, with renewed acknowledgements of gratitude, the
expression of my most distinguished sentiments.

"C. ARDANT DU PICQ.

"P. S. As to the question of atavism in which you showed some interest
in our first conversation, I may say that our paternal line does not
in my knowledge include any military man. The oldest ancestor I know
of, according to an album of engravings by Albert Duerer, recovered in
a garret, was a gold and silversmith at Limoges towards the end of the
sixteenth century. His descendants have always been traders down to my
grandfather who, from what I have heard said, did not in the least
attend to his trade. The case is different with my mother's family
which came from Lorraine. Our great-grandfather was a soldier, our
grandfather also, and two, at least, of my mother's brothers gave
their lives on the battlefields of the First Empire. At present, the
family has two representatives in the army, the one a son of my
brother's, the other a first cousin, once removed, both bearing our
name.

"C. A. DU P."




RECORD OF MILITARY SERVICE OF COLONEL ARDANT DU PICQ


Ardant du Picq (Charles-Jean-Jacques-Joseph), was born October 19,
1821 at Perigueux (Dordogne). Entered the service as a student of the
Special Military School, November 15, 1842.

Sub-Lieutenant in the 67th Regiment of the Line, October 1, 1844.

Lieutenant, May 15, 1848.

Captain, August 15, 1852.

Transferred to the 9th Battalion of Foot Chasseurs, December 25, 1853.

Major of the 100th Regiment of the Line, February 15, 1856.

Transferred to the 16th Battalion of Chasseurs, March 17, 1856.

Transferred to the 37th Regiment of the Line, January 23, 1863.

Lieutenant Colonel of the 55th Regiment of the Line, January 16, 1864.

Colonel of the 10th Regiment of Infantry of the Line, February 27,
1869.

Died from wounds at the military hospital in Metz, August 18, 1870.


CAMPAIGNS AND WOUNDS

Orient, March 29, 1854 to May 27, 1856. Was taken prisoner of war at
the storming of the central bastion (Sebastopol) September 8, 1855;
returned from enemy's prisons December 13, 1855.

Served in the Syrian campaign from August 6, 1860 to June 18, 1861; in
Africa from February 24, 1864 to April 14, 1866; in Franco-German war,
from July 15, 1870 to August 18, 1870.

Wounded--a comminute fracture of the right thigh, a torn gash in the
left thigh, contusion of the abdomen--by the bursting of a projectile,
August 15, 1870, Longeville-les-Metz (Moselle).


DECORATIONS

Chevalier of the Imperial Order of the Legion of Honor, Dec. 29, 1860.

Officer of the Imperial Order of the Legion of Honor, September 10,
1868.

Received the medal of H. M. the Queen of England.

Received the medal for bravery in Sardinia.

Authorized to wear the decoration of the fourth class of the Ottoman
Medjidie order.




EXTRACT FROM THE HISTORY OF THE 10TH INFANTRY REGIMENT

CAMPAIGN OF 1870


On the 22nd of July, the three active battalions of the 10th Regiment
of Infantry of the Line left Limoges and Angouleme by rail arriving on
the 23rd at the camp at Chalons, where the 6th Corps of the Rhine Army
was concentrating and organizing, under the command of Marshal
Canrobert. The regiment, within this army corps, belonged to the 1st
Brigade (Pechot) of the 1st Division (Tixier).

The organization on a war footing of the 10th Regiment of Infantry of
the Line, begun at Limoges, was completed at the Chalons camp.

The battalions were brought up to seven hundred and twenty men, and
the regiment counted twenty-two hundred and ten present, not including
the band, the sappers and the headquarters section, which raised the
effectives to twenty-three hundred men.

The troops of the 6th Corps were soon organized and Marshal Canrobert
reviewed them on the 31st of July.

On August 5th, the division received orders to move to Nancy. It was
placed on nine trains, of which the first left at 6 A. M. Arriving in
the evening at its destination, the 1st brigade camped on the Leopold
Racetrack, and the 10th Regiment established itself on the Place de la
Greve.

The defeats of Forbach and Reichshofen soon caused these first plans
to be modified. The 6th Corps was ordered to return to the Chalons
camp. The last troops of the 2d Brigade, held up at Toul and Commercy,
were returned on the same trains.

The 1st Brigade entrained at Nancy, on the night of August 8th,
arriving at the Chalons camp on the afternoon of August 8th.

The 6th Corps, however, was to remain but a few days in camp. On the
10th it received orders to go to Metz. On the morning of the 11th the
regiment was again placed on three successive trains. The first train
carrying the staff and the 1st Battalion, arrived at Metz without
incident. The second train, transporting the 2d Battalion and four
companies of the 3d was stopped at about 11 P.M. near the Frouard
branch.

The telegraph line was cut by a Prussian party near Dieulouard, for a
length of two kilometers, and it was feared the road was damaged.

In order not to delay his arrival at Metz, nor the progress of the
trains following, Major Morin at the head of the column, directed his
commands to detrain and continue to Metz.

He caused the company at the head of the train to alight (6th Company,
2d Battalion, commanded by Captain Valpajola) and sent it
reconnoitering on the road, about three hundred meters in advance of
the train. All precautions were taken to assure the security of the
train, which regulated its progress on that of the scouts.

After a run of about eight kilometers in this way, at Marbache
station, all danger having disappeared and communication with Metz
having been established, the train resumed its regulation speed. In
consequence of the slowing up of the second column, the third followed
at a short distance until it also arrived. On the afternoon of the
12th, the regiment was entirely united.

The division of which it was a part was sent beyond Montigny and it
camped there as follows:

The 9th Chasseurs and 4th Regiment of the Line, ahead of the
Thionville railroad, the right on the Moselle, the left on the
Pont-a-Mousson highway; the 10th Regiment of the Line, the right
supported at the branch of the Thionville and Nancy lines, the left in
the direction of Saint-Privat, in front of the Montigny repair shops
of the Eastern Railroad lines.

The regiment was thus placed in the rear of a redoubt under
construction. The company of engineers was placed at the left of the
10th near the earth-works on which it was to work.

Along the ridge of the plateau, toward the Seille, was the 2d Brigade,
which rested its left on the river and its right perpendicular to the
Saint-Privat road, in rear of the field-work of this name. The
divisional batteries were behind it.

The division kept this position August 13th and during the morning of
the 14th. In the afternoon, an alarm made the division take arms,
during the engagement that took place on the side of Vallieres and
Saint-Julien (battle of Borny). The regiment immediately occupied
positions on the left of the village of Montigny.

At nightfall, the division retired to the rear of the railroad cut,
and received orders to hold itself in readiness to leave during the
night.

The regiment remained thus under arms, the 3d Battalion (Major
Deschesnes), passing the night on grand guard in front of the Montigny
redoubt.

Before daybreak, the division marched over the bank of the Thionville
railroad, crossed the Moselle, and, marching towards Gravelotte,
descended into the plain south of Longeville-les-Metz, where the
principal halt was made and coffee prepared.

Scarcely had stacks been made, and the men set to making fires, about
7 A.M. when shells exploded in the midst of the troops. The shots came
from the Bradin farm, situated on the heights of Montigny, which the
division had just left the same morning, and which a German cavalry
reconnaissance patrol supported by two pieces had suddenly occupied.

The Colonel had arms taken at once and disposed the regiment north of
the road which, being elevated, provided sufficient cover for
defilading the men.

He himself, stood in the road to put heart into his troops by his
attitude, they having been a little startled by this surprise and the
baptism of fire which they received under such disadvantageous
circumstances.

Suddenly, a shell burst over the road, a few feet from the Colonel,
and mutilated his legs in a frightful manner.

The same shell caused other ravages in the ranks of the 10th. The
commander of the 3d Battalion, Major Deschesnes, was mortally wounded,
Captain Reboulet was killed, Lieutenant Pone (3d Battalion, 1st
Company), and eight men of the regiment were wounded. The Colonel was
immediately taken to the other side of the highway into the midst of
his soldiers and a surgeon called, those of the regiment being already
engaged in caring for the other victims of the terrible shot.

In the meantime, Colonel Ardant du Picq asked for Lieut.-Colonel
Doleac, delivered to him his saddlebags containing important papers
concerning the regiment and gave him his field glasses. Then, without
uttering the least sound of pain, notwithstanding the frightful injury
from which he must have suffered horribly, he said with calmness: "My
regret is to be struck in this way, without having been able to lead
my regiment on the enemy."

They wanted him to take a little brandy, he refused and accepted some
water which a soldier offered him.

A surgeon arrived finally. The Colonel, showing him his right leg open
in two places, made with his hand the sign of amputating at the thigh,
saying: "Doctor, it is necessary to amputate my leg here."

At this moment, a soldier wounded in the shoulder, and placed near the
Colonel, groaned aloud. Forgetting his own condition, the Colonel said
immediately to the surgeon: "See first, doctor, what is the matter
with this brave man; I can wait."

Because of the lack of instruments it was not possible to perform the
amputation on the ground, as the Colonel desired, so this much
deplored commander was transported to the Metz hospital.

Four days later (19th of August), Colonel Ardant du Picq died like a
hero of old, without uttering the least complaint. Far from his
regiment, far from his family, he uttered several times the words
which summed up his affections: "My wife, my children, my regiment,
adieu!"





PART ONE




ANCIENT BATTLE




INTRODUCTION


Battle is the final objective of armies and man is the fundamental
instrument in battle. Nothing can wisely be prescribed in an army--its
personnel, organization, discipline and tactics, things which are
connected like the fingers of a hand--without exact knowledge of the
fundamental instrument, man, and his state of mind, his morale, at the
instant of combat.

It often happens that those who discuss war, taking the weapon for the
starting point, assume unhesitatingly that the man called to serve it
will always use it as contemplated and ordered by the regulations. But
such a being, throwing off his variable nature to become an impassive
pawn, an abstract unit in the combinations of battle, is a creature
born of the musings of the library, and not a real man. Man is flesh
and blood; he is body and soul. And, strong as the soul often is, it
can not dominate the body to the point where there will not be a
revolt of the flesh and mental perturbation in the face of
destruction.

The human heart, to quote Marshal de Saxe, is then the starting point
in all matters pertaining to war.

Let us study the heart, not in modern battle, complicated and not
readily grasped, but in ancient battle. For, although nowhere
explained in detail, ancient battle was simple and clear.

Centuries have not changed human nature. Passions, instincts, among
them the most powerful one of self-preservation, may be manifested in
various ways according to the time, the place, the character and
temperament of the race. Thus in our times we can admire, under the
same conditions of danger, emotion and anguish, the calmness of the
English, the dash of the French, and that inertia of the Russians
which is called tenacity. But at bottom there is always found the same
man. It is this man that we see disposed of by the experts, by the
masters, when they organize and discipline, when they order detailed
combat methods and take general dispositions for action. The best
masters are those who know man best, the man of today and the man of
history. This knowledge naturally comes from a study of formations and
achievements in ancient war.

The development of this work leads us to make such an analysis, and
from a study of combat we may learn to know man.

Let us go even back of ancient battle, to primeval struggle. In
progressing from the savage to our times we shall get a better grasp
of life.

And shall we then know as much as the masters? No more than one is a
painter by having seen the methods of painting. But we shall better
understand these able men and the great examples they have left behind
them.

We shall learn from them to distrust mathematics and material dynamics
as applied to battle principles. We shall learn to beware of the
illusions drawn from the range and the maneuver field.

There, experience is with the calm, settled, unfatigued, attentive,
obedient soldier, with an intelligent and tractable man-instrument in
short, and not with the nervous, easily swayed, moved, troubled,
distrait, excited, restless being, not even under self-control, who is
the fighting man from general to private. There are strong men,
exceptions, but they are rare.

These illusions, nevertheless, stubborn and persistent, always repair
the very next day the most damaging injuries inflicted on them by
experience. Their least dangerous effect is to lead to prescribing the
impractical, as if ordering the impractical were not really an attack
on discipline, and did not result in disconcerting officers and men by
the unexpected and by surprise at the contrast between battle and the
theories of peacetime training.

Battle, of course, always furnishes surprises. But it furnishes less
in proportion as good sense and the recognition of truth have had
their effect on the training of the fighting man, and are disseminated
in the ranks. Let us then study man in battle, for it is he who really
fights.




CHAPTER I

MAN IN PRIMITIVE AND ANCIENT COMBAT


Man does not enter battle to fight, but for victory. He does
everything that he can to avoid the first and obtain the second.

War between savage tribes, between Arabs, even today, [1] is a war of
ambush by small groups of men of which each one, at the moment of
surprise, chooses, not his adversary, but his victim, and is an
assassin. Because the arms are similar on both sides, the only way of
giving the advantage to one side is by surprise. A man surprised,
needs an instant to collect his thoughts and defend himself; during
this instant he is killed if he does not run away.

The surprised adversary does not defend himself, he tries to flee.
Face to face or body to body combat with primitive arms, ax or dagger,
so terrible among enemies without defensive arms, is very rare. It can
take place only between enemies mutually surprised and without a
chance of safety for any one except in victory. And still ... in case
of mutual surprise, there is another chance of safety; that of falling
back, of flight on the part of one or the other; and that chance is
often seized. Here is an example, and if it does not concern savages
at all, but soldiers of our days, the fact is none the less
significant. It was observed by a man of warlike temperament who has
related what he saw with his own eyes, although he was a forced
spectator, held to the spot by a wound.

During the Crimean War, on a day of heavy fighting, two detachments of
soldiers, A and B, coming around one of the mounds of earth that
covered the country and meeting unexpectedly face to face, at ten
paces, stopped thunderstruck. Then, forgetting their rifles, they
threw stones and withdrew. Neither of the two groups had a decided
leader to lead it to the front, and neither of the two dared to shoot
first for fear that the other would at the same time bring his own arm
to his shoulder. They were too near to hope to escape, or so they
thought at least, although in reality, reciprocal firing, at such
short ranges, is almost always too high. The man who would fire sees
himself already killed by the return fire. He throws stones, and not
with great force, to avoid using his rifle, to distract the enemy, to
occupy the time, until flight offers him some chance of escaping at
point-blank range.

This agreeable state of affairs did not last long, a minute perhaps.
The appearance of a troop B on one flank determined the flight of A,
and then the opposing group fired.

Surely, the affair is ridiculous and laughable.

Let us see, however. In a thick forest, a lion and a tiger meet face
to face at a turn in the trail. They stop at once, rearing and ready
to spring. They measure each other with their eyes, there is a
rumbling in their throats. The claws move convulsively, the hair
stands up. With tails lashing the ground, and necks stretched, ears
flattened, lips turned up, they show their formidable fangs in that
terrible threatening grimace of fear characteristic of felines.

Unseen, I shudder.

The situation is disagreeable for both: movement ahead means the death
of a beast. Of which? Of both perhaps.

Slowly, quite slowly, one leg, bent for the leap, bending still, moves
a few inches to the rear. Gently, quite gently, a fore paw follows the
movement. After a stop, slowly, quite slowly, the other legs do the
same, and both beasts, insensibly, little by little, and always
facing, withdraw, up to the moment where their mutual withdrawal has
created between them an interval greater than can be traversed in a
bound. Lion and tiger turn their backs slowly and, without ceasing to
observe, walk freely. They resume without haste their natural gaits,
with that sovereign dignity characteristic of great seigneurs. I have
ceased to shudder, but I do not laugh.

There is no more to laugh at in man in battle, because he has in his
hands a weapon more terrible than the fangs and claws of lion or
tiger, the rifle, which instantly, without possible defense, sends one
from life into death. It is evident that no one close to his enemy is
in a hurry to arm himself, to put into action a force which may kill
him. He is not anxious to light the fuse that is to blow up the enemy,
and himself at the same time.

Who has not observed like instances between dogs, between dog and cat,
cat and cat?

In the Polish War of 1831, two Russian and two Polish regiments of
cavalry charged each other. They went with the same dash to meet one
another. When close enough to recognize faces, these cavalrymen
slackened their gait and both turned their backs. The Russians and
Poles, at this terrible moment, recognized each other as brothers, and
rather than spill fraternal blood, they extricated themselves from a
combat as if it were a crime. That is the version of an eyewitness and
narrator, a Polish officer.

What do you think of cavalry troops so moved by brotherly love?

But let us resume:

When people become more numerous, and when the surprise of an entire
population occupying a vast space is no longer possible, when a sort
of public conscience has been cultivated within society, one is warned
beforehand. War is formally declared. Surprise is no longer the whole
of war, but it remains one of the means in war, the best means, even
to-day. Man can no longer kill his enemy without defense. He has
forewarned him. He must expect to find him standing and in numbers. He
must fight; but he wishes to conquer with as little risk as possible.
He employs the iron shod mace against the staff, arrows against the
mace, the shield against arrows, the shield and cuirass against the
shield alone, the long lance against the short lance, the tempered
sword against the iron sword, the armed chariot against man on foot,
and so on.

Man taxes his ingenuity to be able to kill without running the risk of
being killed. His bravery is born of his strength and it is not
absolute. Before a stronger he flees without shame. The instinct of
self-preservation is so powerful that he does not feel disgraced in
obeying it, although, thanks to the defensive power of arms and armor
he can fight at close quarters. Can you expect him to act in any other
way? Man must test himself before acknowledging a stronger. But once
the stronger is recognized, no one will face him.

Individual strength and valor were supreme in primitive combats, so
much so that when its heroes were killed, the nation was conquered. As
a result of a mutual and tacit understanding, combatants often stopped
fighting to watch with awe and anxiety two champions struggling. Whole
peoples often placed their fate in the hands of the champions who took
up the task and who alone fought. This was perfectly natural. They
counted their champion a superman, and no man can stand against the
superman.

But intelligence rebels against the dominance of force. No one can
stand against an Achilles, but no Achilles can withstand ten enemies
who, uniting their efforts, act in concert. This is the reason for
tactics, which prescribe beforehand proper means of organization and
action to give unanimity to effort, and for discipline which insures
united efforts in spite of the innate weakness of combatants.

In the beginning man battled against man, each one for himself, like a
beast that hunts to kill, yet flees from that which would kill him.
But now prescriptions of discipline and tactics insure unity between
leader and soldier, between the men themselves. Besides the
intellectual progress, is there a moral progress? To secure unity in
combat, to make tactical dispositions in order to render it
practically possible, we must be able to count on the devotion of all.
This elevates all combatants to the level of the champions of
primitive combat. Esprit appears, flight is a disgrace, for one is no
longer alone in combat. There is a legion, and he who gives way quits
his commanders and his companions. In all respects the combatant is
worth more.

So reason shows us the strength of wisely united effort; discipline
makes it possible.

Will the result be terrible fights, conflicts of extermination? No!
Collective man, a disciplined body of troops formed in tactical battle
order, is invincible against an undisciplined body of troops. But
against a similarly disciplined body, he becomes again primitive man.
He flees before a greater force of destruction when he recognizes it
or when he foresees it. Nothing is changed in the heart of man.
Discipline keeps enemies face to face a little longer, but cannot
supplant the instinct of self-preservation and the sense of fear that
goes with it.

Fear!...

There are officers and soldiers who do not know it, but they are
people of rare grit. The mass shudders; because you cannot suppress
the flesh. This trembling must be taken into account in all
organization, discipline, arrangements, movements, maneuvers, mode of
action. All these are affected by the human weakness of the soldier
which causes him to magnify the strength of the enemy.

This faltering is studied in ancient combat. It is seen that of
nations apt in war, the strongest have been those who, not only best
have understood the general conduct of war, but who have taken human
weakness into greatest account and taken the best guarantees against
it. It is notable that the most warlike peoples are not always those
in which military institutions and combat methods are the best or the
most rational.

And indeed, in warlike nations there is a good dose of vanity. They
only take into account courage in their tactics. One might say that
they do not desire to acknowledge weakness.

The Gaul, a fool in war, used barbarian tactics. After the first
surprise, he was always beaten by the Greeks and Romans.

The Greek, a warrior, but also a politician, had tactics far superior
to those of the Gauls and the Asiatics.

The Roman, a politician above all, with whom war was only a means,
wanted perfect means. He had no illusions. He took into account human
weakness and he discovered the legion.

But this is merely affirming what should be demonstrated.




CHAPTER II

KNOWLEDGE OF MAN MADE ROMAN TACTICS.
THE SUCCESSES OF HANNIBAL, THOSE OF CAESAR


Greek tactics developed the phalanx; Roman tactics, the legion; the
tactics of the barbarians employed the square phalanx, wedge or
lozenge.

The mechanism of these various formations is explained in all
elementary books. Polybius enters into a mechanical discussion when he
contrasts the phalanx and the legion. (Book 18.)

The Greeks were, in intellectual civilization, superior to the Romans,
consequently their tactics ought to have been far more rational. But
such was not the case. Greek tactics proceeded from mathematical
reasoning; Roman tactics from a profound knowledge of man's heart.
Naturally the Greeks did not neglect morale nor the Romans mechanics, [2]
but their primary, considerations were diverse.

What formation obtained the maximum effort from the Greek army?

What methods caused the soldiers of a Roman army to fight most
effectively?

The first question admits of discussion. The Roman solved the second.

The Roman was not essentially brave. He did not produce any warrior of
the type of Alexander. It is acknowledged that the valorous
impetuosity of the barbarians, Gauls, Cimbri, Teutons, made him
tremble. But to the glorious courage of the Greeks, to the natural
bravery of the Gauls he opposed a strict sense of duty, secured by a
terrible discipline in the masses. It was inspired in the officers by
a sentiment of the strongest patriotism.

The discipline of the Greeks was secured by exercises and rewards; the
discipline of the Romans was secured also by the fear of death. They
put to death with the club; they decimated their cowardly or
traitorous units.

In order to conquer enemies that terrified his men, a Roman general
heightened their morale, not by enthusiasm but by anger. He made the
life of his soldiers miserable by excessive work and privations. He
stretched the force of discipline to the point where, at a critical
instant, it must break or expend itself on the enemy. Under similar
circumstances, a Greek general caused Tyrtaeus to sing. [3] It would
have been curious to see two such forces opposed.

But discipline alone does not constitute superior tactics. Man in
battle, I repeat, is a being in whom the instinct of self-preservation
dominates, at certain moments, all other sentiments. Discipline has
for its aim the domination of that instinct by a greater terror. But
it cannot dominate it completely. I do not deny the glorious examples
where discipline and devotion have elevated man above himself. But if
these examples are glorious, it is because they are rare; if they are
admired, it is because they are considered exceptions, and the
exception proves the rule.

The determination of that instant where man loses his reasoning power
and becomes instinctive is the crowning achievement in the science of
combat. In general, here was the strength of the Roman tactics. In
particular cases such successful determination makes Hannibals and
Caesars.

Combat took place between masses in more or less deep formation
commanded and supervised by leaders with a definite mission. The
combat between masses was a series of individual conflicts,
juxtaposed, with the front rank man alone fighting. If he fell, if he
was wounded or worn out, he was replaced by the man of the second rank
who had watched and guarded his flanks. This procedure continued up to
the last rank. Man is always physically and morally fatigued in a
hand-to-hand tournament where he employs all his energy.

These contests generally lasted but a short time. With like morale,
the least fatigued always won.

During this engagement of the first two ranks, the one fighting, the
other watching close at hand, the men of the rear ranks waited
inactive at two paces distance for their turn in the combat, which
would come only when their predecessors were killed, wounded or
exhausted. They were impressed by the violent fluctuations of the
struggle of the first rank. They heard the clashes of the blows and
distinguished, perhaps, those that sank into the flesh. They saw the
wounded, the exhausted crawl through the intervals to go to the rear.
Passive spectators of danger, they were forced to await its terrible
approach. These men were subjected to the poignant emotions of combat
without being supported by the animation of the struggle. They were
thus placed under the moral pressure of the greatest of anxieties.
Often they could not stand it until their turn came; they gave way.

The best tactics, the best dispositions were those that made easiest a
succession of efforts by assuring the relief by ranks of units in
action, actually engaging only the necessary units and keeping the
rest as a support or reserve outside of the immediate sphere of moral
tension. The superiority of the Romans lay in such tactics and in the
terrible discipline which prepared and assured the execution. By their
resistance against fatigue which rude and continual tasks gave them
and by the renewal of combatants in combat, they secured greater
continuity of effort than any others. [4]

The Gauls did not reason. Seeing only the inflexible line, they bound
themselves together, thus rendering relief impracticable. They
believed, as did the Greeks, in the power of the mass and impulse of
deep files, and did not understand that deep files were powerless to
push the first ranks forward as they recoiled in the face of death. It
is a strange error to believe that the last ranks will go to meet that
which made the first ones fall back. On the contrary, the contagion of
recoil is so strong that the stopping of the head means the falling
back of the rear!

The Greeks, also, certainly had reserves and supports in the second
half of their dense ranks. But the idea of mass dominated. They placed
these supports and reserves too near, forgetting the essential, man.

The Romans believed in the power of mass, but from the moral point of
view only. They did not multiply the files in order to add to the
mass, but to give to the combatants the confidence of being aided and
relieved. The number of ranks was calculated according to the moral
pressure that the last ranks could sustain.

There is a point beyond which man cannot bear the anxiety of combat in
the front lines without being engaged. The Romans did not so increase
the number of ranks as to bring about this condition. The Greeks did
not observe and calculate so well. They sometimes brought the number
of files up to thirty-two and their last files, which in their minds,
were doubtless their reserves, found themselves forcibly dragged into
the material disorder of the first ones.

In the order by maniples in the Roman legion, the best soldiers, those
whose courage had been proved by experience in battle, waited
stoically, kept in the second and third lines. They were far enough
away not to suffer wounds and not to be drawn in by the front line
retiring into their intervals. Yet they were near enough to give
support when necessary or to finish the job by advancing.

When the three separate and successive maniples of the first cohort
were united in order to form the united battle cohort of Marius and of
Caesar, the same brain placed the most reliable men in the last lines,
i.e., the oldest. The youngest, the most impetuous, were in the first
lines. The legion was not increased simply to make numbers or mass.
Each had his turn in action, each man in his maniple, each maniple in
its cohort, and, when the unit became a cohort, each cohort in the
order of battle.

We have seen that the Roman theory dictated a depth of ranks to
furnish successive lines of combatants. The genius of the general
modified these established formations. If the men were inured to war,
well-trained, reliable, tenacious, quick to relieve their file
leaders, full of confidence in their general and their own comrades,
the general diminished the depth of the files, did away with the lines
even, in order to increase the number of immediate combatants by
increasing the front. His men having a moral, and sometimes also a
physical endurance superior to that of the adversary, the general knew
that the last ranks of the latter would not, under pressure, hold
sufficiently to relieve the first lines nor to forbid the relief of
his own. Hannibal had a part of his infantry, the Africans, armed and
drilled in the Roman way; his Spanish infantrymen had the long wind of
the Spaniards of to-day; his Gallic soldiers, tried out by hardship,
were in the same way fit for long efforts. Hannibal, strong with the
confidence with which he inspired his people, drew up a line less deep
by half than the Roman army and at Cannae hemmed in an army which had
twice his number and exterminated it. Caesar at Pharsalus, for similar
reasons, did not hesitate to decrease his depth. He faced double his
strength in the army of Pompey, a Roman army like his own, and crushed
it.

We have mentioned Cannae and Pharsalus, we shall study in them the
mechanism and the morale of ancient combat, two things which cannot be
separated. We cannot find better examples of battle more clearly and
more impartially exhibited. This is due in one case to the clear
presentation of Polybius, who obtained his information from the
fugitives from Cannae, possibly even from some of the conquerors; in
the other it is due to the impassive clearness of Caesar in describing
the art of war.




CHAPTER III

ANALYSIS OF THE BATTLE OF CANNAE


Recital of Polybius:

"Varro placed the cavalry on the right wing, and rested it on the
river; the infantry was deployed near it and on the same line, the
maniples drawn close to each other, with smaller intervals than usual,
and the maniples presenting more depth than front.

"The cavalry of the allies, on the left wing, completed the line, in
front of which were posted the light troops. There were in that army,
including the allies, eighty thousand foot and a little more than six
thousand horse.

"Meanwhile Hannibal had his slingers and light troops cross the
Aufidus and posted them in front of his army. The rest crossed the
river at two places. He placed the Iberian and Gallic cavalry on the
left wing, next the river and facing the Roman cavalry. He placed on
the same line, one half of the African infantry heavily armed, the
Iberian and Gallic infantry, the other half of the African infantry,
and finally the Numidian cavalry which formed the right wing.

"After he had thus arrayed all his troops upon a single line, he
marched to meet the enemy with the Iberian and Gallic infantry moving
independently of the main body. As it was joined in a straight line
with the rest, on separating, it was formed like the convex face of a
crescent. This formation reduced its depth in the center. The
intention of the general was to commence the battle with the Iberians
and Gauls, and have them supported by the Africans.

"The latter infantry was armed like the Roman infantry, having been
equipped by Hannibal with arms that had been taken from the Romans in
preceding battle. Both Iberians and Gauls had shields; but their
swords were quite different. The sword of the former was as fit for
thrusting as for cutting while that of the Gauls only cut with the
edge, and at a limited distance. These troops were drawn up as
follows: the Iberians were in two bodies of troops on the wings, near
the Africans; the Gauls in the center. The Gauls were nude; the
Iberians in linen shirts of purple color, which to the Romans was an
extraordinary and frightening spectacle. The Carthaginian army
consisted of ten thousand horse and little more than forty thousand
foot.

"Aemilius commanded the right of the Romans, Varro the left; the two
consuls of the past year, Servilius and Attilius, were in the center.
On the Carthaginian side, Hasdrubal had the left under his orders,
Hanno the right, and Hannibal, who had his brother Mago with him,
reserved for himself the command of the center. The two armies did not
suffer from the glare of the sun when it rose, the one being faced to
the South, as I remarked, and the other to the North.

"Action commenced with the light troops, which were in front of both
armies. The first engagement gave advantage to neither the one nor the
other. Just as soon as the Iberian and Gallic cavalry on the left
approached, the conflict became hot. The Romans fought with fury and
rather more like barbarians than Romans. This falling back and then
returning to the charge was not according to their tactics. Scarcely
did they become engaged when they leaped from their horses and each
seized his adversary. In the meanwhile the Carthaginians gained the
upper hand. The greater number of the Romans remained on the ground
after having fought with the greatest valor. The others were pursued
along the river and cut to pieces without being able to obtain
quarter.

"The heavily armed infantry immediately took the place of the light
troops and became engaged. The Iberians and Gauls held firm at first
and sustained the shock with vigor; but they soon gave way to the
weight of the legions, and, opening the crescent, turned their backs
and retreated. The Romans followed them with impetuosity, and broke
the Gallic line much more easily because the wings crowded toward the
center where the thick of the fighting was. The whole line did not
fight at the same time. The action commenced in the center because the
Gauls, being drawn up in the form of a crescent, left the wings far
behind them, and presented the convex face of the crescent to the
Romans. The latter then followed the Gauls and Iberians closely, and
crowded towards the center, to the place where the enemy gave way,
pushing ahead so forcibly that on both flanks they engaged the heavily
armed Africans. The Africans on the right, in swinging about from
right to left, found themselves all along the enemy's flank, as well
as those on the left which made the swing from left to right. The very
circumstances of the action showed them what they had to do. This was
what Hannibal had foreseen; that the Romans pursuing the Gauls must be
enveloped by the Africans. The Romans then, no longer able to keep
their formation [5] were forced to defend themselves man to man and in
small groups against those who attacked them on front and flank.[6]

"Aemilius had escaped the carnage on the right wing at the
commencement of the battle. Wishing, according to the orders he had
given, to be everywhere, and seeing that it was the legionary infantry
that would decide the fate of the battle, he pushed his horse through
the fray, warded off or killed every one who opposed him, and sought
at the same time to reanimate the ardor of the Roman soldiers.
Hannibal, who during the entire battle remained in the conflict, did
the same in his army.

"The Numidian cavalry on the right wing, without doing or suffering
much, was useful on that occasion by its manner of fighting; for,
pouncing upon the enemy on all sides, they gave him enough to do so
that he might not have time to think of helping his own people.
Indeed, when the left wing, where Hasdrubal commanded, had routed
almost all the cavalry of the Roman right wing, and a junction had
been effected with the Numidians, the auxiliary cavalry did not wait
to be attacked but gave way.

"Hasdrubal is said to have done something which proved his prudence
and his ability, and which contributed to the success of the battle.
As the Numidians were in great number, and as these troops were never
more useful than when one was in flight before them, he gave them the
fugitives to pursue, and led the Iberian and Gallic cavalry in a
charge to aid the African infantry. He pounced on the Romans from the
rear, and having bodies of cavalry charge into the melee at several
places, he gave new strength to the Africans and made the arms drop
from the hands of the adversaries. It was then that L. Aemilius, a
citizen who during his whole life, as in this last conflict, had nobly
fulfilled his duties to his country, finally succumbed, covered with
mortal wounds.

"The Romans continued fighting, giving battle to those who were
surrounding them. They resisted to the last. But as their numbers
diminished more and more, they were finally forced into a smaller
circle, and all put to the sword. Attilius and Servilius, two persons
of great probity, who had distinguished themselves in the combat as
true Romans, were also killed on that occasion.

"While this carnage was taking place in the center, the Numidians
pursued the fugitives of the left wing. Most of them were cut down,
others were thrown under their horses; some of them escaped to
Venusia. Among these was Varro, the Roman general, that abominable man
whose administration cost his country so dearly. Thus ended the battle
of Cannae, a battle where prodigies of valor were seen on both sides.

"Of the six thousand horse of which the Roman cavalry was composed,
only seventy Romans reached Venusia with Varro, and, of the auxiliary
cavalry, only three hundred men found shelter in various towns. Ten
thousand foot were taken prisoners, but they were not in the battle. [7]
Of troops in battle only about three thousand saved themselves in the
nearby town; the balance, numbering about twenty thousand, died on the
field of honor." [8]

Hannibal lost in that action in the neighborhood of four thousand
Gauls, fifteen hundred Iberians and Africans and two hundred horses.

Let us analyze:

The light infantry troops were scattered in front of the armies and
skirmished without result. The real combat commenced with the attack
on the legitimate cavalry of the Roman left wing by the cavalry of
Hannibal.

There, says Polybius, the fight grew thickest, the Romans fought with
fury and much more like barbarians than like Romans; because this
falling back, then returning to the charge was not according to their
tactics; scarcely did they become engaged when they leaped from their
horses and each seized his adversary, etc., etc.

This means that the Roman cavalry did not habitually fight hand to
hand like the infantry. It threw itself in a gallop on the enemy
cavalry. When within javelin range, if the enemy's cavalry had not
turned in the opposite direction on seeing the Roman cavalry coming,
the latter prudently slackened its gait, threw some javelins, and,
making an about by platoons, took to the rear for the purpose of
repeating the charge. The hostile cavalry did the same, and such an
operation might be renewed several times, until one of the two,
persuaded that his enemy was going to attack him with a dash, turned
in flight and was pursued to the limit.

That day, the fight becoming hot, they became really engaged; the two
cavalry bodies closed and man fought man. The fight was forced,
however; as there was no giving way on one side or the other, it was
necessary actually to attack. There was no space for skirmishing.
Closed in by the Aufidus and the legions, the Roman cavalry could not
operate (Livy). The Iberian and Gallic cavalry, likewise shut in and
double the Roman cavalry, was forced into two lines; it could still
less maneuver. This limited front served the Romans, inferior in
number, who could thus be attacked only in front, that is by an equal
number. It rendered, as we have said, contact inevitable. These two
cavalry bodies placed chest to chest had to fight close, had to
grapple man to man, and for riders mounted on simple saddle cloths and
without stirrup, embarrassed with a shield, a lance, a saber or a
sword, to grapple man to man is to grapple together, fall together and
fight on foot. That is what happened, as the account of Titus Livius
explains it in completing that of Polybius. The same thing happened
every time that two ancient cavalry organizations really had to fight,
as the battle of the Tecinus showed. This mode of action was all to
the advantage of the Romans, who were well-armed and well-trained
therein. Note the battle of Tecinus. The Roman light infantry was cut
to pieces, but the elite of the Roman cavalry, although surprised and
surrounded, fought a-foot and on horse back, inflicted more casualties
on the cavalry of Hannibal than they suffered, and brought back from
the field their wounded general. The Romans besides were well led by
Consul Aemilius, a man of head and heart, who, instead of fleeing when
his cavalry was defeated, went himself to die in the ranks of the
infantry.

Meanwhile we see thirty to thirty-four hundred Roman cavalrymen nearly
exterminated by six to seven thousand Gauls and Iberians who did not
lose even two hundred men. Hannibal's entire cavalry lost but two
hundred men on that day.

How can that be explained?

Because most of them died without dreaming of selling their lives and
because they took to flight during the fight of the first line and
were struck with impunity from behind. The words of Polybius: "Most of
them remained on the spot after having defended themselves with the
utmost valor," were consecrated words before Polybius. The conquered
always console themselves with their bravery and conquerors never
contradict. Unfortunately, the figures are there. The facts of the
battle are found in the account, which sounds no note of desperation.
The Gallic and Roman cavalry had each already made a brave effort by
attacking each other from the front. This effort was followed by the
terrible anxiety of close combat. The Roman cavalrymen, who from
behind the combatants on foot were able to see the second Gallic line
on horse back, gave ground. Fear very quickly made the disengaged
ranks take to their horses, wheel about like a flock of sheep in a
stampede, and abandon their comrades and themselves to the mercy of
the conquerors.

Yet, these horsemen were brave men, the elite of the army, noble
knights, guards of the consuls, volunteers of noble families.

The Roman cavalry defeated, Hasdrubal passed his Gallic and Iberian
troopers behind Hannibal's army, to attack the allied cavalry till
then engaged by the Numidians. [9] The cavalry of the allies did not
await the enemy. It turned its back immediately; pursued to the utmost
by the Numidians who were numerous (three thousand), and excellent in
pursuit, it was reduced to some three hundred men, without a struggle.

After the skirmishing of the light infantry troops, the foot-soldiers
of the line met. Polybius has explained to us how the Roman infantry
let itself be enclosed by the two wings of the Carthaginian army and
taken in rear by Hasdrubal's cavalry. It is also probable that the
Gauls and Iberians, repulsed in the first part of the action and
forced to turn their backs, returned, aided by a portion of the light
infantry, to the charge upon the apex of the wedge formed by the
Romans and completed their encirclement.

But we know, as will be seen further on in examples taken from Caesar,
that the ancient cavalryman was powerless against formed infantry,
even against the isolated infantryman possessing coolness. The Iberian
and Gallic cavalry ought to have found behind the Roman army the
reliable triarians penned in, armed, with pikes. [10] It might have held
them in check, forced them to give battle, but done them little or no
harm as long as the ranks were preserved.

We know that of Hannibal's infantry only twelve thousand at the most
were equipped with Roman weapons. We know that his Gallic and Iberian
infantry, protected by plain shields, had to fall back, turn, and
probably lost in this part of the action very nearly the four thousand
men, which the battle cost them.

Let us deduct the ten thousand men that had gone to the attack of
Hannibal's camp and the five thousand which the latter must have left
there. There remain:

A mass of seventy thousand men surrounded and slaughtered by
twenty-eight thousand foot soldiers, or, counting Hasdrubal's cavalry,
by thirty-six thousand men, by half their number.

It may be asked how seventy thousand men could have let themselves be
slaughtered, without defense, by thirty-six thousand men less
well-armed, when each combatant had but one man before him. For in
close combat, and especially in so large an envelopment, the number of
combatants immediately engaged was the same on each side. Then there
were neither guns nor rifles able to pierce the mass by a converging
fire and destroy it by the superiority of this fire over diverging
fire. Arrows were exhausted in the first period of the action. It
seems that, by their mass, the Romans must have presented an
insurmountable resistance, and that while permitting the enemy to wear
himself out against it, that mass had only to defend itself in order
to repel assailants.

But it was wiped out.

In pursuit of the Gauls and Iberians, who certainly were not able,
even with like morale, to stand against the superior arms of the
legionaries, the center drove all vigorously before it. The wings, in
order to support it and not to lose the intervals, followed its
movement by a forward oblique march and formed the sides of the
salient. The entire Roman army, in wedge order, marched to victory.
Suddenly the wings were attacked by the African battalions; the Gauls,
the Iberians, [11] who had been in retreat, returned to the fight. The
horsemen of Hasdrubal, in the rear, attacked the reserves. [12]
Everywhere there was combat, unexpected, unforeseen. At the moment
when they believed themselves conquerors, everywhere, in front, to the
right, to the left, in the rear, the Roman soldiers heard the furious
clamor of combat. [13]

The physical pressure was unimportant. The ranks that they were
fighting had not half their own depth. The moral pressure was
enormous. Uneasiness, then terror, took hold of them; the first ranks,
fatigued or wounded, wanted to retreat; but the last ranks,
frightened, withdrew, gave way and whirled into the interior of the
wedge. Demoralized and not feeling themselves supported, the ranks
engaged followed them, and the routed mass let itself be slaughtered.
The weapons fell from their hands, says Polybius.

The analysis of Cannae is ended. Before passing to the recital of
Pharsalus, we cannot resist the temptation, though the matter be a
little foreign to the subject, to say a few words about the battles of
Hannibal.

These battles have a particular character of stubbornness explained by
the necessity for overcoming the Roman tenacity. It may be said that
to Hannibal victory was not sufficient. He must destroy. Consequently
he always tried to cut off all retreat for the enemy. He knew that
with Rome, destruction was the only way of finishing the struggle.

He did not believe in the courage of despair in the masses; he
believed in terror and he knew the value of surprise in inspiring it.

But it was not the losses of the Romans that was the most surprising
thing in these engagements. It was the losses of Hannibal. Who, before
Hannibal or after him, has lost as many as the Romans and yet been
conqueror? To keep troops in action, until victory comes, with such
losses, requires a most powerful hand.

He inspired his people with absolute confidence. Almost always his
center, where he put his Gauls, his food for powder, was broken. But
that did not seem to disquiet or trouble either him or his men.

It is true that his center was pierced by the Romans who were escaping
the pressure of the two Carthaginian wings, that they were in disorder
because they had fought and pushed back the Gauls, whom Hannibal knew
how to make fight with singular tenacity. They probably felt as though
they had escaped from a press, and, happy to be out of it, they
thought only of getting further away from the battle and by no means
of returning to the flanks or the rear of the enemy. In addition,
although nothing is said about it, Hannibal had doubtless taken
precautions against their ever returning to the conflict.

All that is probably true. The confidence of the Gallic troops, so
broken through, is none the less surprising.

Hannibal, in order to inspire his people with such confidence, had to
explain to them before the combat his plan of action, in such a way
that treachery could not injure him. He must have warned his troops
that the center would be pierced, but that he was not worried about
it, because it was a foreseen and prepared affair. His troops, indeed,
did not seem to be worried about it.

Let us leave aside his conception of campaigns, his greatest glory in
the eyes of all. Hannibal was the greatest general of antiquity by
reason of his admirable comprehension of the morale of combat, of the
morale of the soldier whether his own or the enemy's. He shows his
greatness in this respect in all the different incidents of war, of
campaign, of action. His men were not better than the Roman soldiers.
They were not as well armed, one-half less in number. Yet he was
always the conqueror. He understood the value of morale. He had the
absolute confidence of his people. In addition he had the art, in
commanding an army, of always securing the advantage of morale.

In Italy he had, it is true, cavalry superior to that of the Romans.
But the Romans had a much superior infantry. Had conditions been
reversed, he would have changed his methods. The instruments of battle
are valuable only if one knows how to use them, and Pompey, we shall
see, was beaten at Pharsalus precisely because he had a cavalry
superior to that of Caesar.

If Hannibal was vanquished at Zuma, it was because genius cannot
accomplish the impossible. Zuma proved again the perfect knowledge of
men that Hannibal possessed and his influence over the troops. His
third line, the only one where he really had reliable soldiers, was
the only one that fought. Beset on all sides, it slew two thousand
Romans before it was conquered.

We shall see later what a high state of morale, what desperate
fighting, this meant.




CHAPTER IV

ANALYSIS OF THE BATTLE OF PHARSALUS, AND SOME CHARACTERISTIC EXAMPLES


Here is Caesar's account of the battle of Pharsalus.

"As Caesar approached Pompey's camp, he noted that Pompey's army was
placed in the following order:

"On the left wing were the 2nd and 3rd Legions which Caesar had sent
to Pompey at the commencement of the operation, pursuant to a decree
of the Senate, and which Pompey had kept. Scipio occupied the center
with the legions from Syria. The legion from Cilicia was placed on the
right wing together with the Spanish cohorts of Afranius. Pompey
regarded the troops already mentioned as the most reliable of his
army. Between them, that is, between the center and the wings, he had
distributed the remainder, consisting of one hundred and ten complete
cohorts in line. These were made up of forty-five thousand men, two
thousand of whom were veterans, previously rewarded for their
services, who had come to join him. He had scattered them throughout
the whole line of battle. Seven cohorts had been left to guard his
camp and the neighboring forts. His right wing rested on a stream with
inaccessible banks; and, for that reason, he had placed all his seven
thousand cavalry, [14] his archers and his slingers (forty-two hundred
men) on the left wing.

"Caesar, keeping his battle order, [15] had placed the 10th Legion on the
right wing, and on the left, the 9th, which was much weakened by the
combats of Dyrrachium. To the latter he added the 8th in order to form
something like a full legion from the two, and ordered them to support
one another. He had eighty very completely organized cohorts in line,
approximately twenty-two thousand men. Two cohorts had been left to
guard the camp. Caesar had entrusted the command of the left wing to
Anthony, that of the right to P. Sylla, and of the center to C.
Domitius. He placed himself in front of Pompey. But when he saw the
disposition of the opposing army, he feared that his right wing was
going to be enveloped by Pompey's numerous cavalry. He therefore
withdrew immediately from his third line a cohort from each legion
(six cohorts), in order to form a fourth line, placed it to receive
Pompey's cavalry and showed it what it had to do. Then he explained
fully to these cohorts that the success of the day depended on their
valor. At the same time he ordered the entire army, and in particular
the third line, not to move without his command, reserving to himself
authority to give the signal by means of the standard when he thought
it opportune.

"Caesar then went through his lines to exhort his men to do well, and
seeing them full of ardor, had the signal given.

"Between the two armies there was only enough space to give each the
necessary distance for the charge. But Pompey had given his men orders
to await the charge without stirring, and to let Caesar's army break
its ranks upon them. He did this, they say, on the advice of C.
Triarius, as a method of meeting the force of the first dash of
Caesar's men. He hoped that their battle order would be broken up and
his own soldiers, well disposed in ranks, would have to fight with
sword in hand only men in disorder. He thought that this formation
would best protect his troops from the force of the fall of heavy
javelins. At the same time he hoped that Caesar's soldiers charging at
the run would be out of breath and overcome with fatigue at the moment
of contact. Pompey's immobility was an error because there is in every
one an animation, a natural ardor that is instilled by the onset to
the combat. Generals ought not to check but to encourage this ardor.
It was for this reason that, in olden times, troops charged with loud
shouts, all trumpets sounding, in order to frighten the enemy and
encourage themselves.

"In the meanwhile, our soldiers, at the given signal advanced with
javelins in hand; but having noticed that Pompey's soldiers were not
running towards them, and taught by experience and trained by previous
battles, they slowed down and stopped in the midst of their run, in
order not to arrive out of breath and worn out. Some moments after,
having taken up their run again, they launched their javelins, and
immediately afterwards, according to Caesar's order drew their swords.
The Pompeians conducted themselves perfectly. They received the darts
courageously; they did not stir before the dash of the legions; they
preserved their lines, and, having dispatched their javelins, drew
their swords.

"At the same time Pompey's entire cavalry dashed from the left wing,
as had been ordered, and the mass of his archers ran from all parts of
the line. Our cavalry did not await the charge, but fell back a
little. Pompey's cavalry became more pressing, and commenced to reform
its squadrons and turn our exposed flank. As soon as Caesar saw this
intention, he gave the signal to the fourth line of six cohorts. This
line started directly and, standards low, they charged the Pompeian
cavalry with such vigor and resolution that not a single man stood his
ground. All wheeled about and not only withdrew in full flight, but
gained the highest mountains as fast as they could. They left the
archers and slingers without their defense and protection. These were
all killed. At the same time the cohorts moved to the rear of Pompey's
left wing, which was still fighting and resisting, and attacked it in
rear.

"Meanwhile, Caesar had advanced his third line, which up to this
moment had been kept quietly at its post. These fresh troops relieved
those that were fatigued. Pompey's men, taken in rear, could no longer
hold out and all took to flight.

"Caesar was not in error when he put these cohorts in a fourth line,
particularly charged with meeting the cavalry, and urged them to do
well, since their effort would bring victory. They repulsed the
cavalry. They cut to pieces the slingers and archers. They turned
Pompey's left wing, and this decided the day.

"When Pompey saw his cavalry repulsed and that portion of the army
upon which he had counted the most seized with terror, he had little
confidence in the rest. He quit the battle and galloped to his camp,
where, addressing his centurions who were guarding the praetorian
gate, he told them in a loud voice heard by the soldiers: 'Guard well
the camp and defend it vigorously in case of attack; as for myself, I
am going to make the tour of the other gates and assure their
defense.'

"That said, he retired to the praetorium, despairing of success and
awaiting events.

"After having forced the enemy to flee to his entrenchments Caesar,
persuaded that he ought not to give the slightest respite to a
terrorized enemy, incited his soldiers to profit by their advantage
and attack the camp. Although overcome by the heat, for the struggle
was prolonged into the middle of the day, they did not object to
greater fatigue and obeyed. The camp was at first well defended by the
cohorts on watch and especially by the Thracians and barbarians. The
men who had fled from the battle, full of fright and overcome with
fatigue, had nearly all thrown their arms and colors away and thought
rather more of saving themselves than of defending the camp. Even
those who defended the entrenchments were unable long to resist the
shower of arrows. Covered with wounds, they abandoned the place, and
led by their centurions and tribunes, they took refuge as quickly as
they could in the high mountains near the camp.

"Caesar lost in this battle but two hundred soldiers, but nearly
thirty of the bravest centurions were killed therein. Of Pompey's army
fifteen thousand perished, and more than twenty-four thousand took
refuge in the mountains. As Caesar had invested the mountains with
entrenchments, they surrendered the following day."

Such is Caesar's account. His action is so clearly shown that there is
scarcely any need of comment.

Initially Caesar's formation was in three lines. This was the usual
battle order in the Roman armies, without being absolute, however,
since Marius fought with two only. But, as we have said, according to
the occasion, the genius of the chief decided the battle formation.
There is no reason to suppose that Pompey's army was in a different
order of battle.

To face that army, twice as large as his, Caesar, if he had had to
preserve the disposition of cohorts in ten ranks, would have been able
to form but one complete line, the first, and a second, half as
numerous, as a reserve. But he knew the bravery of his troops, and he
knew the apparent force of deep ranks to be a delusion. He did not
hesitate to diminish his depth in order to keep the formation and
morale of three-fifths of his troops intact, until the moment of their
engagement. In order to be even more sure of the third line of his
reserve, and in order to make sure that it would not be carried away
by its enthusiasm for action, he paid it most particular attention.
Perhaps, the text is doubtful, he kept it at double the usual distance
in rear of the fighting lines.

Then, to guard against a turning movement by Pompey's seven thousand
cavalry and forty-two hundred slingers and archers, a movement in
which Pompey placed the hopes of victory, Caesar posted six cohorts
that represented scarcely two thousand men. He had perfect confidence
that these two thousand men would make Pompey's cavalry wheel about,
and that his one thousand horsemen would then press the action so
energetically that Pompey's cavalry would not even think of rallying.
It happened so; and the forty-two hundred archers and slingers were
slaughtered like sheep by these cohorts, aided, without doubt, by
four-hundred foot [16] young and agile, whom Caesar mixed with his
thousand horsemen and who remained at this task, leaving the horsemen,
whom they had relieved, to pursue the terror-stricken fugitives.

Thus were seven thousand horsemen swept away and forty-two hundred
infantrymen slaughtered without a struggle, all demoralized simply by
a vigorous demonstration.

The order to await the charge, given by Pompey to his infantry, was
judged too severely by Caesar. Caesar certainly was right as a general
rule; the enthusiasm of the troops must not be dampened, and the
initiative of the attack indeed gives to the assailant a certain moral
influence. But with trusted soldiers, duly trained, one can try a
stratagem, and the men of Pompey had proven their dependability by
awaiting on the spot, without stirring, a vigorous enemy in good
order, when they counted on meeting him in disorder and out of breath.
Though it may not have led to success, the advice of Triarius was not
bad. Even the conduct of Caesar's men proves this. This battle shows
the confidence of the soldier in the material rank in ancient combat,
as assuring support and mutual assistance.

Notwithstanding the fact that Caesar's soldiers had the initiative in
the attack, the first encounter decided nothing. It was a combat on
the spot, a struggle of several hours. Forty-five thousand good troops
lost scarcely two hundred men in this struggle for, with like arms,
courage and ability, Pompey's infantry ought not to have lost in
hand-to-hand fighting more than that of Caesar's. These same
forty-five thousand men gave way, and, merely between the battle field
and their camp, twelve thousand were slaughtered.

Pompey's men had twice the depth of Caesar's ranks, whose attack did
not make them fall back a step. On the other hand their mass was
unable to repel him, and he was fought on the spot. Pompey had
announced to them, says Caesar, that the enemy's army would be turned
by his cavalry, and suddenly, when they were fighting bravely, step by
step, they heard behind them the shouts of attack by the six cohorts
of Caesar, two thousand men.

Does it seem an easy matter for such a force to ward off this menace?
No. The wing taken in rear in this way loses ground; more and more the
contagion of fear spreads to the rest. Terror is so great that they do
not think of re-forming in their camp, which is defended for a moment
only by the cohorts on guard. Just as at Cannae, their arms drop from
their hands. But for the good conduct of the camp guards which
permitted the fugitives to gain the mountains, the twenty-four
thousand prisoners of the next day might have been corpses that very
day.

Cannae and Pharsalus, are sufficient to illustrate ancient combat. Let
us, however, add some other characteristic examples, which we shall
select briefly and in chronological order. They will complete our
data. [17]

Livy relates that in an action against some of the peoples in the
neighborhood of Rome, I do not recall now which, the Romans did not
dare to pursue for fear of breaking their ranks.

In a fight against the Hernici, he cites the Roman horsemen, who had
not been able to do anything on horseback to break up the enemy,
asking the consul for permission to dismount and fight on foot. This
is true not only of Roman cavalrymen, for later on we shall see the
best riders, the Gauls, the Germans, the Parthanians even, dismounting
in order really to fight.

The Volsci, the Latini, the Hernici, etc., combined to fight the
Romans; and as the action nears its end, Livy relates: "Finally, the
first ranks having fallen, and carnage being all about them, they
threw away their arms and started to scatter. The cavalry then dashed
forward, with orders not to kill the isolated ones, but to harass the
mass with their arrows, annoy it, to delay it, to prevent dispersion
in order to permit the infantry to come up and kill."

In Hamilcar's engagement against the mercenaries in revolt, who up to
then had always beaten the Carthaginians, the mercenaries endeavored
to envelop him. Hamilcar surprised them by a new maneuver and defeated
them. He marched in three lines: elephants, cavalry and light
infantry, then heavily armed phalanxes. At the approach of the
mercenaries who were marching vigorously towards him the two lines
formed by the elephants, the cavalry and light infantry, turned about
and moved quickly to place themselves on the flanks of the third line.
The third line thus exposed met a foe which had thought only of
pursuit, and which the surprise put to flight. It thus abandoned
itself to the action of the elephants, horses and the light infantry
who massacred the fugitives.

Hamilcar killed six thousand men, captured two thousand and lost
practically nobody. It was a question as to whether he had lost a
single man, since there had been no combat.

In the battle of Lake Trasimenus, the Carthaginians lost fifteen
hundred men, nearly all Gauls; the Romans fifteen thousand and fifteen
thousand prisoners. The battle raged for three hours.

At Zama, Hannibal had twenty thousand killed, twenty thousand
prisoners; the Romans two thousand killed. This was a serious struggle
in which Hannibal's third line alone fought. It gave way only under
the attack on its rear and flank by the cavalry.

In the battle of Cynoscephalae, between Philip and Flaminius, Philip
pressed Flaminius with his phalanx thirty-two deep. Twenty maniples
took the phalanx from behind. The battle was lost by Philip. The
Romans had seven hundred killed; the Macedonians eighty thousand, and
five thousand prisoners.

At Pydna, Aemilius Paulus against Perseus, the phalanx marched without
being stopped. But gaps occurred from the resistance that it
encountered. Hundreds penetrated into the gaps in the phalanx and
killed the men embarrassed with their long pikes. They were effective
only when united, abreast, and at shaft's length. There was frightful
disorder and butchery; twenty thousand killed, five thousand captured
out of forty-four thousand engaged! The historian does not deem it
worth while to speak of the Roman losses.

After the battle of Aix against the Teutons, Marius surprised the
Teutons from behind. There was frightful carnage; one hundred thousand
Teutons and three hundred Romans killed. [18]

In Sulla's battle of Chaeronea against Archelaus, a general of
Mithridates, Sulla had about thirty thousand men, Archelaus, one
hundred and ten thousand. Archelaus was beaten by being surprised from
the rear. The Romans lost fourteen men, and killed their enemies until
worn out in pursuit.

The battle of Orchomenus, against Archelaus, was a repetition of
Chaeronea.

Caesar states that his cavalry could not fight the Britons without
greatly exposing itself, because they pretended flight in order to get
the cavalry away from the infantry and then, dashing from their
chariots, they fought on foot with advantage.

A little less than two hundred veterans embarked on a boat which they
ran aground at night so as not to be taken by superior naval forces.
They reached an advantageous position and passed the night. At the
break of day, Otacilius dispatched some four hundred horsemen and some
infantry from the Alesio garrison against them. They defended
themselves bravely; and having killed some, they rejoined Caesar's
troops without having lost a single man.

In Macedonia Caesar's rear-guard was caught by Pompey's cavalry at the
passage of the Genusus River, the banks of which were quite steep.
Caesar opposed Pompey's cavalry five to seven thousand strong, with
his cavalry of six hundred to one thousand men, among which he had
taken care to intermingle four hundred picked infantrymen. They did
their duty so well that, in the combat that followed, they repulsed
the enemy, killed many, and fell back upon their own army without the
loss of a single man.

In the battle of Thapsus in Africa, against Scipio, Caesar killed ten
thousand, lost fifty, and had some wounded.

       *       *       *       *       *

In the battle under the walls of Munda in Spain, against one of
Pompey's sons, Caesar had eighty cohorts and eight thousand horsemen,
about forty-eight thousand men. Pompey with thirteen legions had sixty
thousand troops of the line, six thousand cavalry, six thousand light
infantry, six thousand auxiliaries; in all, about eighty thousand men.
The struggle, says the narrator, was valiantly kept up, step by step,
sword to sword. [19]

In that battle of exceptional fury, which hung for a long time in the
balance, Caesar had one thousand dead, five hundred wounded; Pompey
thirty-three thousand dead, and if Munda had not been so near,
scarcely two miles away, his losses would have been doubled. The
defensive works of Munda were constructed from dead bodies and
abandoned arms.

In studying ancient combats, it can be seen that it was almost always
an attack from the flank or rear, a surprise action, that won battles,
especially against the Romans. It was in this way that their excellent
tactics might be confused. Roman tactics were so excellent that a
Roman general who was only half as good as his adversary was sure to
be victorious. By surprise alone they could be conquered. Note
Xanthippe,--Hannibal--the unexpected fighting methods of the Gauls,
etc.

Indeed Xenophon says somewhere, "Be it agreeable or terrible, the less
anything is foreseen, the more does it cause pleasure or dismay. This
is nowhere better illustrated than in war where every surprise strikes
terror even to those who are much the stronger."

But very few fighters armed with cuirass and shield were killed in the
front lines.

Hannibal in his victories lost almost nobody but Gauls, his
cannon-fodder, who fought with poor shields and without armor.

Nearly always driven in, they fought, nevertheless, with a tenacity
that they never showed under any other command.

Thucydides characterizes the combat of the lightly armed, by saying:
"As a rule, the lightly armed of both sides took to flight." [20]

In combat with closed ranks there was mutual pressure but little loss,
the men not being at liberty to strike in their own way and with all
their force.

Caesar against the Nervii, saw his men, who in the midst of the action
had instinctively closed in mass in order to resist the mass of
barbarians, giving way under pressure. He therefore ordered his ranks
and files to open, so that his legionaries, closed in mass, paralyzed
and forced to give way to a very strong pressure, might be able to
kill and consequently demoralize the enemy. And indeed, as soon as a
man in the front rank of the Nervii fell under the blows of the
legionaries, there was a halt, a falling back. Following an attack
from the rear, and a melee, the defeat of the Nervii ensued. [21]




CHAPTER V

MORALE IN ANCIENT BATTLE


We now know the morale and mechanism of ancient fighting; the word
melee employed by the ancients was many times stronger than the idea
to be expressed; it meant a crossing of arms, not a confusion of men.

The results of battles, such as losses, suffice to demonstrate this,
and an instant of reflection makes us see the error of the word melee.
In pursuit it was possible to plunge into the midst of the fugitives,
but in combat every one had too much need for the next man, for his
neighbor, who was guarding his flanks and his back, to let himself be
killed out of sheer wantonness by a sure blow from within the ranks of
the enemy. [22]

In the confusion of a real melee, Caesar at Pharsalus, and Hannibal at
Cannae, would have been conquered. Their shallow ranks, penetrated by
the enemy, would have had to fight two against one, they would even
have been taken in rear in consequence of the breaking of their ranks.

Also has there not been seen, in troops equally reliable and
desperate, that mutual weariness which brings about, with tacit
accord, falling back for a breathing spell on both sides in order
again to take up the battle?

How can this be possible with a melee?

With the confusion and medley of combatants, there might be a mutual
extermination, but there would not be any victors. How would they
recognize each other? Can you conceive two mixed masses of men or
groups, where every one occupied in front can be struck with impunity
from the side or from behind? That is mutual extermination, where
victory belongs only to survivors; for in the mix-up and confusion, no
one can flee, no one knows where to flee.

After all, are not the losses we have seen on both sides demonstration
that there was no real melee?

The word is, therefore, too strong; the imagination of painters' and
poets' has created the melee.

This is what happened:

At a charging distance troops marched towards the enemy with all the
speed compatible with the necessity for fencing and mutual aid. Quite
often, the moral impulse, that resolution to go to the end, manifested
itself at once in the order and freedom of gait. That impulse alone
put to flight a less resolute adversary.

It was customary among good troops to have a clash, but not the blind
and headlong onset of the mass; the preoccupation [23] of the rank was
very great, as the behavior of Caesar's troops at Pharsalus shows in
their slow march, timed by the flutes of Lacedaemonian battalions. At
the moment of getting close to the enemy, the dash slackened of its
own accord, because the men of the first rank, of necessity and
instinctively, assured themselves of the position of their supports,
their neighbors in the same line, their comrades in the second, and
collected themselves together in order to be more the masters of their
movements to strike and parry. There was a contact of man with man;
each took the adversary in front of him and attacked him, because by
penetrating into the ranks before having struck him down, he risked
being wounded in the side by losing his flank supports. Each one then
hit his man with his shield, expecting to make him lose his equilibrium,
and at the instant he tried to recover himself landed the blow. The men
in the second line, back of the intervals necessary for fencing in the
first, were ready to protect their sides against any one that advanced
between them and were prepared to relieve tired warriors. It was the
same in the third line, and so on.

Every one being supported on either side, the first encounter was
rarely decisive, and the fencing, the real combat at close quarters,
began.

If men of the first line were wounded quickly, if the other ranks were
not in a hurry to relieve or replace them, or if there was hesitation,
defeat followed. This happened to the Romans in their first encounters
with the Gauls. The Gaul, with his shield, parried the first thrust,
brought his big iron sword swooping down with fury upon the top of the
Roman shield, split it and went after the man. The Romans, already
hesitating before the moral impulse of the Gauls, their ferocious
yells, their nudeness, an indication of a contempt for wounds, fell
then in a greater number than their adversaries and demoralization
followed. Soon they accustomed themselves to this valorous but not
tenacious spirit of their enemies, and when they had protected the top
of their shields with an iron band, they no longer fell, and the roles
were changed.

The Gauls, in fact, were unable either to hold their ground against
the better arms and the thrusts of the Romans, or against their
individual superior tenacity, increased nearly tenfold by the possible
relay of eight ranks of the maniple. The maniples were self-renewing.
Whereas with the Gauls the duration of the combat was limited to the
strength of a single man, on account of the difficulties of close or
tumultuous ranks, and the impossibility of replacing losses when they
were fighting at close quarters.

If the weapons were nearly alike, preserving ranks and thereby
breaking down, driving back and confusing the ranks of the enemy, was
to conquer. The man in disordered, broken lines, no longer felt
himself supported, but vulnerable everywhere, and he fled. It is true
that it is hardly possible to break hostile lines without doing the
same with one's own. But the one who breaks through first, has been
able to do so only by making the foe fall back before his blows, by
killing or wounding. He has thereby raised his courage and that of his
neighbor. He knows, he sees where he is marching; whilst the adversary
overtaken as a consequence of the retreat or the fall of the troops
that were flanking him, is surprised. He sees himself exposed on the
flank. He falls back on a line with the rank in rear in order to
regain support. But the lines in the rear give way to the retreat of
the first. If the withdrawal has a certain duration, terror comes as a
result of the blows which drive back and mow down the first line. If,
to make room for those pushed back, the last lines turn their backs,
there is small chance that they will face the front again. Space has
tempted them. They will not return to the fight.

Then by that natural instinct of the soldier to worry, to assure
himself of his supports, the contagion of flight spreads from the last
ranks to the first. The first, closely engaged, has been held to the
fight in the meantime, under pain of immediate death. There is no need
to explain what follows; it is butchery. (Caedes).

But to return to combat.

It is evident that the formation of troops in a straight line, drawn
close together, existed scarcely an instant. Moreover each group of
files formed in action was connected with the next group; the groups,
like the individuals, were always concerned about their support. The
fight took place along the line of contact of the first ranks of the
army, a straight line, broken, curved, and bent in different
directions according to the various chances of the action at such or
such a point, but always restricting and separating the combatants of
the two sides. Once engaged on that line, it was necessary to face the
front under pain of immediate death. Naturally and necessarily every
one in these first ranks exerted all his energy to defend his life.

At no point did the line become entangled as long as there was
fighting, for, general or soldier, the effort of each one was to keep
up the continuity of support all along the line, and to break or cut
that of the enemy, because victory then followed.

We see then that between men armed with swords, it was possible to
have, and there was, if the combat was serious, penetration of one
mass into the other, but never confusion, or a jumble of ranks, by the
men forming these masses. [24]

Sword to sword combat was the most deadly. It presented the most
sudden changes, because it was the one in which the individual valor
and dexterity of the combatant had the greatest and most immediate
influence. Other methods of combat were simpler.

Let us compare pikes and broadswords.

The close formation of men armed with pikes was irresistible so long
as it was maintained. A forest of pikes fifteen to eighteen feet long
kept you at a distance. [25] On the other hand it was easy to kill off
the cavalry and light infantry about the phalanx, which was an
unwieldy mass marching with a measured step, and which a mobile
body of troops could always avoid. Openings in the phalanx might
be occasioned by marching, by the terrain, by the thousand accidents
of struggle, by the individual assault of brave men, by the wounded
on the ground creeping under the high held pikes and cutting at the
legs of the front rank. Men in the phalanx could scarcely see and even
the first two lines hardly had a free position for striking. The men
were armed with long lances, useless at close quarters, good only for
combat at shaft's length (Polybius). They were struck with impunity by
the groups [26] which threw themselves into the intervals. And then,
once the enemy was in the body of the phalanx, morale disappeared
and it became a mass without order, a flock of panic-stricken sheep
falling over each other.

In a mob hard-pressed men prick with their knives those who press
them. The contagion of fear changes the direction of the human wave;
it bends back upon itself and breaks to escape danger. If, then, the
enemy fled before the phalanx there was no melee. If he gave way
tactically before it and availing himself of gaps penetrated it by
groups, still there was no melee or mixture of ranks. The wedge
entering into a mass does not become intermingled with it.

With a phalanx armed with long pikes against a similar phalanx there
was still less confusion. They were able to stand for a long time, if
the one did not take the other in flank or in rear by a detached body
of troops. In all ancient combat, even in victory achieved by methods
which affected the morale, such methods are always effective, for man
does not change.

It is unnecessary to repeat that in ancient conflicts, demoralization
and flight began in the rear ranks.

We have tried to analyze the fight of infantry of the line because its
action alone was decisive in ancient combat. The light infantry of
both sides took to flight, as Thucydides states. They returned later
to pursue and massacre the vanquished. [27]

In cavalry against cavalry, the moral effect of a mass charging in
good order was of the greatest influence. We rarely see two cavalry
organizations, neither of which breaks before such reciprocal action.
Such action was seen on the Tecinus and at Cannae, engagements cited
merely because they are very rare exceptions. And even in these cases
there was no shock at full speed, but a halt face to face and then an
engagement.

The hurricanes of cavalry of those days were poetic figures. They had
no reality. In an encounter at full speed, men and horses would be
crushed, and neither men nor horses wished such an encounter. The
hands of the cavalrymen reined back, the instinct of men and horses
was to slacken, to stop, if the enemy himself did not stop, and to
make an about if he continued to advance. And if ever they met, the
encounter was so weakened by the hands of the men, the rearing of the
horses, the swinging of heads, that it was a face to face stop. Some
blows were exchanged with the sword or the lance, but the equilibrium
was too unstable, mutual support too uncertain for real sword play.
Man felt himself too isolated. The moral pressure was too strong.
Although not deadly, the combat lasted but a second, precisely because
man felt himself, saw himself, alone and surrounded. The first men,
who believed themselves no longer supported, could no longer endure
uneasiness: they wheeled about and the rest followed. Unless the enemy
had also turned, he then pursued at his pleasure until checked by
other cavalry, which pursued him in turn.

There never was an encounter between cavalry and infantry. The cavalry
harassed with its arrows, with the lance perhaps, while passing
rapidly, but it never attacked.

Close conflict on horseback did not exist. And to be sure, if the
horse by adding so much to the mobility of man gave him the means of
menacing and charging with swiftness, it permitted him to escape with
like rapidity when his menace did not shake the enemy. Man by using
the horse, pursuant to his natural inclination and sane reasoning,
could do as much damage as possible while risking the least possible.
To riders without stirrups or saddle, for whom the throwing of the
javelin was a difficult matter (Xenophon), combat was but a succession
of reciprocal harassings, demonstrations, menaces, skirmishes with
arrows. Each cavalry sought an opportunity to surprise, to intimidate,
to avail itself of disorder, and to pursue either the cavalry or the
infantry. Then "vae victis;" the sword worked.

Man always has had the greatest fear of being trampled upon by horses.
That fear has certainly routed a hundred thousand times more men than
the real encounter. This was always more or less avoided by the horse,
and no one was knocked down. When two ancient cavalry forces wanted
really to fight, were forced to it, they fought on foot (Note the
Tecinus, Cannae, examples of Livy). I find but little real fighting on
horseback in all antiquity like that of Alexander the Great at the
passage of the Granicus. Was even that fighting? His cavalry which
traversed a river with steep banks defended by the enemy, lost
eighty-five men; the Persian cavalry one thousand; and both were
equally well armed!

The fighting of the Middle Ages revived the ancient battles except in
science. Cavalrymen attacked each other perhaps more than the ancient
cavalry did, for the reason that they were invulnerable: it was not
sufficient to throw them down; it was necessary to kill when once they
were on the ground. They knew, however, that their fighting on
horseback was not important so far as results were concerned, for when
they wished really to battle, they fought on foot. (Note the combat of
the Thirty, Bayard, etc.)

The victors, arrayed in iron from head to foot, lost no one, the
peasants did not count. If the vanquished was taken, he was not
massacred, because chivalry had established a fraternity of arms
between noblemen, the mounted warriors of different nations, and
ransom replaced death.

If we have spoken especially of the infantry fight, it is because it
was the most serious. On foot, on horseback, on the bridge of a
vessel, at the moment of danger, the same man is always found. Any one
who knows him well, deduces from his action in the past what his
action will be in the future.




CHAPTER VI

UNDER WHAT CONDITIONS REAL COMBATANTS ARE OBTAINED AND HOW THE
FIGHTING OF OUR DAYS, IN ORDER TO BE WELL DONE, REQUIRES THEM TO BE
MORE DEPENDABLE THAN IN ANCIENT COMBAT


Let us repeat now, what we said at the beginning of this study. Man
does not enter battle to fight, but for victory. He does everything
that he can to avoid the first and obtain the second. The continued
improvement of all appliances of war has no other goal than the
annihilation of the enemy. Absolute bravery, which does not refuse
battle even on unequal terms, trusting only to God or to destiny, is
not natural in man; it is the result of moral culture. It is
infinitely rare, because in the face of danger the animal sense of
self-preservation always gains the upper hand. Man calculates his
chances, with what errors we are about to see.

Now, man has a horror of death. In the bravest, a great sense of duty,
which they alone are capable of understanding and living up to, is
paramount. But the mass always cowers at sight of the phantom, death.
Discipline is for the purpose of dominating that horror by a still
greater horror, that of punishment or disgrace. But there always comes
an instant when natural horror gets an upper hand over discipline, and
the fighter flees. "Stop, stop, hold out a few minutes, an instant
more, and you are victor! You are not even wounded yet,--if you turn
your back you are dead!" He does not hear, he cannot hear any more. He
is full of fear. How many armies have sworn to conquer or perish? How
many have kept their oaths? An oath of sheep to stand up against
wolves. History shows, not armies, but firm souls who have fought unto
death, and the devotion of Thermopylae is therefore justly immortal.

Here we are again brought to the consideration of essential truths,
enunciated by many men, now forgotten or unknown.

To insure success in the rude test of conflict, it is not sufficient
to have a mass composed of valiant men like the Gauls or the Germans.

The mass needs, and we give it, leaders who have the firmness and
decision of command proceeding from habit and an entire faith in their
unquestionable right to command as established by tradition, law and
society.

We add good arms. We add methods of fighting suitable to these arms
and those of the enemy and which do not overtax the physical and moral
forces of man. We add also a rational decentralization that permits
the direction and employment of the efforts of all even to the last
man.

We animate with passion, a violent desire for independence, a
religious fanaticism, national pride, a love of glory, a madness for
possession. An iron discipline, which permits no one to escape action,
secures the greatest unity from top to bottom, between all the
elements, between the commanding officers, between the commanding
officers and men, between the soldiers.

Have we then a solid army? Not yet. Unity, that first and supreme
force of armies, is sought by enacting severe laws of discipline
supported by powerful passions. But to order discipline is not enough.
A vigilance from which no one may escape in combat should assure the
maintenance of discipline. Discipline itself depends on moral pressure
which actuates men to advance from sentiments of fear or pride. But it
depends also on surveillance, the mutual supervision of groups of men
who know each other well.

A wise organization insures that the personnel of combat groups
changes as little as possible, so that comrades in peace time
maneuvers shall be comrades in war. From living together, and obeying
the same chiefs, from commanding the same men, from sharing fatigue
and rest, from cooeperation among men who quickly understand each other
in the execution of warlike movements, may be bred brotherhood,
professional knowledge, sentiment, above all unity. The duty of
obedience, the right of imposing discipline and the impossibility of
escaping from it, would naturally follow.

And now confidence appears.

It is not that enthusiastic and thoughtless confidence of tumultous or
unprepared armies which goes up to the danger point and vanishes
rapidly, giving way to a contrary sentiment, which sees treason
everywhere. It is that intimate confidence, firm and conscious, which
does not forget itself in the heat of action and which alone makes
true combatants.

Then we have an army; and it is no longer difficult to explain how men
carried away by passions, even men who know how to die without
flinching, without turning pale, really strong in the presence of
death, but without discipline, without solid organization, are
vanquished by others individually less valiant, but firmly, jointly
and severally combined.

One loves to picture an armed mob upsetting all obstacles and carried
away by a blast of passion.

There is more imagination than truth in that picture. If the struggle
depended on individuals, the courageous, impassioned men, composing
the mob would have more chance of victory. But in any body of troops,
in front of the enemy, every one understands that the task is not the
work of one alone, that to complete it requires team work. With his
comrades in danger brought together under unknown leaders, he feels
the lack of union, and asks himself if he can count on them. A thought
of mistrust leads to hesitation. A moment of it will kill the
offensive spirit.

Unity and confidence cannot be improvised. They alone can create that
mutual trust, that feeling of force which gives courage and daring.
Courage, that is the temporary domination of will over instinct,
brings about victory.

Unity alone then produces fighters. But, as in everything, there are
degrees of unity. Let us see whether modern is in this respect less
exacting than ancient combat.

In ancient combat there was danger only at close quarters. If the
troops had enough morale (which Asiatic hordes seldom had) to meet the
enemy at broadsword's length, there was an engagement. Whoever was
that close knew that he would be killed if he turned his back;
because, as we have seen, the victors lost but few and the vanquished
were exterminated. This simple reasoning held the men and made them
fight, if it was but for an instant.

Neglecting the exceptional and very rare circumstances, which may
bring two forces together, action to-day is brought on and fought out
from afar. Danger begins at great distances, and it is necessary to
advance for a long time under fire which at each step becomes heavier.
The vanquished loses prisoners, but often, in dead and in wounded, he
does not lose more than the victor.

Ancient combat was fought in groups close together, within a small
space, in open ground, in full view of one another, without the
deafening noise of present day arms. Men in formation marched into an
action that took place on the spot and did not carry them thousands of
feet away from the starting point. The surveillance of the leaders was
easy, individual weakness was immediately checked. General
consternation alone caused flight.

To-day fighting is done over immense spaces, along thinly drawn out
lines broken every instant by the accidents and the obstacles of the
terrain. From the time the action begins, as soon as there are rifle
shots, the men spread out as skirmishers or, lost in the inevitable
disorder of a rapid march, [28] escape the supervision of their
commanding officers. A considerable number conceal themselves; [29]
they get away from the engagement and diminish by just so much
the material and moral effect and confidence of the brave ones
who remain. This can bring about defeat.

But let us look at man himself in ancient combat and in modern. In
ancient combat:--I am strong, apt, vigorous, trained, full of
calmness, presence of mind; I have good offensive and defensive
weapons and trustworthy companions of long standing. They do not let
me be overwhelmed without aiding me. I with them, they with me, we are
invincible, even invulnerable. We have fought twenty battles and not
one of us remained on the field. It is necessary to support each other
in time; we see it clearly; we are quick to replace ourselves, to put
a fresh combatant in front of a fatigued adversary. We are the legions
of Marius, fifty thousand who have held out against the furious
avalanches of the Cimbri. We have killed one hundred and forty
thousand, taken prisoner sixty thousand, while losing but two or three
hundred of our inexperienced soldiers.

To-day, as strong, firm, trained, and courageous as I am, I can never
say; I shall return. I have no longer to do with men, whom I do not
fear, I have to do with fate in the form of iron and lead. Death is in
the air, invisible and blind, whispering, whistling. As brave, good,
trustworthy, and devoted as my companions may be, they do not shield
me. Only,--and this is abstract and less immediately intelligible to
all than the material support of ancient combat,--only I imagine that
the more numerous we are who run a dangerous risk, the greater is the
chance for each to escape therefrom. I also know that, if we have that
confidence which none of us should lack in action, we feel, and we
are, stronger. We begin more resolutely, are ready to keep up the
struggle longer, and therefore finish it more quickly.

We finish it! But in order to finish it, it is necessary to advance,
to attack the enemy, [30] and infantryman or troopers, we are naked
against iron, naked against lead, which cannot miss at close range.
Let us advance in any case, resolutely. Our adversary will not stand
at the point-blank range of our rifle, for the attack is never mutual,
we are sure of that. We have been told so a thousand times. We have
seen it. But what if matters should change now! Suppose the enemy
stands at point-blank range! What of that?

How far this is from Roman confidence!

In another place we have shown that in ancient times to retire from
action was both a difficult and perilous matter for the soldier.
To-day the temptation is much stronger, the facility greater and the
peril less.

Now, therefore, combat exacts more moral cohesion, greater unity than
previously. A last remark on the difficulty of obtaining it will
complete the demonstration.

Since the invention of fire arms, the musket, the rifle, the cannon,
the distances of mutual aid and support have increased among the
different arms. [31]

Besides, the facility of communications of all kinds permits the
assembling on a given territory of enormous forces. For these reasons,
as we have stated, battle fields have become immense.

Supervision becomes more and more difficult. Direction being more
distant tends more often to escape from the supreme commanders and the
subordinate leaders. The certain and inevitable disorder, which a body
of troops always presents in action, is with the moral effect of
modern appliances, becoming greater every day. In the midst of the
confusion and the vacillation of firing lines, men and commanding
officers often lose each other.

Troops immediately and hotly engaged, such as companies and squads,
can maintain themselves only if they are well-organized and serve as
supports or rallying points to those out of place. Battles tend to
become now, more than they have ever been, the battles of men.

This ought not to be true! Perhaps. But the fact is that it is true.

Not all troops are immediately or hotly engaged in battle. Commanding
officers always try to keep in hand, as long as possible, some troops
capable of marching, acting at any moment, in any direction. To-day,
like yesterday, like to-morrow, the decisive action is that of formed
troops. Victory belongs to the commander who has known how to keep
them in good order, to hold them, and to direct them.

That is incontrovertible.

But commanders can hold out decisive reserves only if the enemy has
been forced to commit his.

In troops which do the fighting, the men and the officers closest to
them, from corporal to battalion commander, have a more independent
action than ever. As it is alone the vigor of that action, more
independent than ever of the direction of higher commanders, which
leaves in the hands of higher commanders available forces which can be
directed at a decisive moment, that action becomes more preponderant
than ever. Battles, now more than ever, are battles of men, of
captains. They always have been in fact, since in the last analysis
the execution belongs to the man in ranks. But the influence of the
latter on the final result is greater than formerly. From that comes
the maxim of to-day: The battles of men.

Outside of the regulations on tactics and discipline, there is an
evident necessity for combating the hazardous predominance of the
action of the soldier over that of the commander. It is necessary to
delay as long as possible, that instant which modern conditions tend
to hasten--the instant when the soldier gets from under the control of
the commander.

This completes the demonstration of the truth stated before: Combat
requires to-day, in order to give the best results, a moral cohesion,
a unity more binding than at any other time. [32] It is as true as it
is clear, that, if one does not wish bonds to break, one must make
them elastic in order to strengthen them.




CHAPTER VII

PURPOSE OF THIS STUDY
WHAT WOULD BE NECESSARY TO COMPLETE IT


Any other deductions on this subject must come from the meditations of
the reader. To be of value in actual application such deductions
should be based upon study of modern combat, and that study cannot be
made from the accounts of historians alone.

The latter show the action of troop units only in a general way.
Action in detail and the individual action of the soldier remain
enveloped in a cloud of dust, in narratives as in reality. Yet these
questions must be studied, for the conditions they reveal should be
the basis of all fighting methods, past, present and future.

Where can data on these questions be found?

We have very few records portraying action as clearly as the report on
the engagement at the Pont de l'Hopital by Colonel Bugeaud. Such
stories in even greater detail, for the smallest detail has its
importance, secured from participants and witnesses who knew how to
see and knew how to remember, are what is necessary in a study of the
battle of to-day.

The number of killed, the kind and the character of wounds, often tell
more than the longest accounts. Sometimes they contradict them. We
want to know how man in general and the Frenchman in particular fought
yesterday. Under the pressure of danger, impelled by the instinct for
self-preservation, did he follow, make light of, or forget the methods
prescribed or recommended? Did he fight in the manner imposed upon
him, or in that indicated to him by his instinct or by his knowledge
of warfare?

When we have the answers to these questions we shall be very near to
knowing how he will conduct himself to-morrow, with and against
appliances far more destructive to-day than those of yesterday. Even
now, knowing that man is capable only of a given quantity of terror,
knowing that the moral effect of destruction is in proportion to the
force applied, we are able to predict that, to-morrow less than ever
will studied methods be practicable. Such methods are born of the
illusions of the field of fire and are opposed to the teachings of our
own experience. To-morrow, more than ever, will the individual valor
of the soldier and of small groups, be predominant. This valor is
secured by discipline.

The study of the past alone can give us a true perception of practical
methods, and enable us to see how the soldier will inevitably fight
to-morrow.

So instructed, so informed, we shall not be confused; because we shall
be able to prescribe beforehand such methods of fighting, such
organization, such dispositions as are seen to be inevitable. Such
prescriptions may even serve to regulate the inevitable. At any rate
they will serve to reduce the element of chance by enabling the
commanding officer to retain control as long as possible, and by
releasing the individual only at the moment when instinct dominates
him.

This is the only way to preserve discipline, which has a tendency to
go to pieces by tactical disobedience at the moment of greatest
necessity.

It should be understood that the prescriptions in question have to do
with dispositions before action; with methods of fighting, and not
with maneuvers.

Maneuvers are the movements of troops in the theater of action, and
they are the swift and ordered movement on the scene of action of
tactical units of all sizes. They do not constitute action. Action
follows them.

Confusion in many minds between maneuvers and action brings about
doubt and mistrust of our regulation drills. These are good, very good
as far as they go, inasmuch as they give methods of executing all
movements, of taking all possible formations with rapidity and good
order.

To change them, to discuss them, does not advance the question one
bit. They do not affect the problem of positive action. Its solution
lies in the study of what took place yesterday, from which, alone, it
is possible to deduce what will happen to-morrow.

This study must be made, and its result set forth. Each leader, whose
worth and authority has been tested in war and recognized by armies,
has done something of the sort. Of each of these even might be said,
"He knew the soldier; he knew how to make use of him."

The Romans, too, had this knowledge. They obtained it from continuous
experience and profound reflexion thereon.

Experience is not continuous to-day. It must be carefully gathered.
Study of it should be careful and the results should stimulate
reflexion, especially in men of experience. Extremes meet in many
things. In ancient times at the point of the pike and sword, armies
have conquered similar armies twice their size. Who knows if, in these
days of perfected long-range arms of destruction, a small force might
not secure, by a happy combination of good sense or genius with morale
and appliances, these same heroic victories over a greater force
similarly armed?[33]

In spite of the statements of Napoleon I, his assumption that victory
is always on the side of the strongest battalions was costly.





PART II. MODERN BATTLE




CHAPTER I

GENERAL DISCUSSION


1. Ancient and Modern Battle

I have heard philosophers reproached for studying too exclusively man
in general and neglecting the race, the country, the era, so that
their studies of him offer little of real social or political value.
The opposite criticism can be made of military men of all countries.
They are always eager to expound traditional tactics and organization
suitable to the particular character of their race, always the bravest
of all races. They fail to consider as a factor in the problem, man
confronted by danger. Facts are incredibly different from all
theories. Perhaps in this time of military reorganization it would not
be out of place to make a study of man in battle and of battle itself.

The art of war is subjected to many modifications by industrial and
scientific progress. But one thing does not change, the heart of man.
In the last analysis, success in battle is a matter of morale. In all
matters which pertain to an army, organization, discipline and
tactics, the human heart in the supreme moment of battle is the basic
factor. It is rarely taken into account; and often strange errors are
the result. Witness the carbine, an accurate and long range weapon,
which has never given the service expected of it, because it was used
mechanically without considering the human heart. We must consider it!

With improvement in weapons, the power of destruction increases, the
moral effect of such weapons increases, and courage to face them
becomes rarer. Man does not, cannot change. What should increase with
the power of material is the strength of organization, the unity of
the fighting machine. Yet these are most neglected. A million men at
maneuvers are useless, if a sane and reasoned organization does not
assure their discipline, and thereby their reliability, that is, their
courage in action.

Four brave men who do not know each other will not dare to attack a
lion. Four less brave, but knowing each other well, sure of their
reliability and consequently of mutual aid, will attack resolutely.
There is the science of the organization of armies in a nutshell.

At any time a new invention may assure victory. Granted. But
practicable weapons are not invented every day, and nations quickly
put themselves on the same footing as regards armament. The
determining factor, leaving aside generals of genius, and luck, is the
quality of troops, that is, the organization that best assures their
esprit, their reliability, their confidence, their unity. Troops, in
this sense, means soldiers. Soldiers, no matter how well drilled, who
are assembled haphazard into companies and battalions will never have,
have never had, that entire unity which is born of mutual
acquaintanceship.

In studying ancient battle, we have seen what a terrible thing battle
is. We have seen that man will not really fight except under
disciplinary pressure. Even before having studied modern battle, we
know that the only real armies are those to which a well thought out
and rational organization gives unity throughout battle. The
destructive power of improved firearms becomes greater. Battle becomes
more open, hindering supervision, passing beyond the vision of the
commander and even of subordinate officers. In the same degree, unity
should be strengthened. The organization which assures unity of the
combatants should be better thought out and more rational. The power
of arms increases, man and his weaknesses remain the same. What good
is an army of two hundred thousand men of whom only one-half really
fight, while the other one hundred thousand disappear in a hundred
ways? Better to have one hundred thousand who can be counted upon.

The purpose of discipline is to make men fight in spite of themselves.
No army is worthy of the name without discipline. There is no army at
all without organization, and all organization is defective which
neglects any means to strengthen the unity of combatants. Methods
cannot be identical. Draconian discipline does not fit our customs.
Discipline must be a state of mind, a social institution based on the
salient virtues and defects of the nation.

Discipline cannot be secured or created in a day. It is an
institution, a tradition. The commander must have confidence in his
right to command. He must be accustomed to command and proud to
command. This is what strengthens discipline in armies commanded by an
aristocracy in certain countries.

The Prussians do not neglect the homogeneity and consequent unity of
organization. They recognize its value. Hessian regiments are
composed, the first year, of one-third Hessians, two-thirds Prussians,
to control the racial tendencies of troops of a recently annexed
country; the second year, of two-thirds Hessians, one-third Prussians;
the third year, all Hessians with their own officers.

The Americans have shown us what happens in modern battle to large
armies without cohesion. With them the lack of discipline and
organization has had the inevitable result. Battle has been between
hidden skirmishers, at long distance, and has lasted for days, until
some faulty movement, perhaps a moral exhaustion, has caused one or
the other of the opposing forces to give way.

In this American War, the melees of Agincourt are said to have
reappeared, which merely means a melee of fugitives. But less than
ever has there been close combat.

To fight from a distance is instinctive in man. From the first day he
has worked to this end, and he continues to do so. It was thought that
with long range weapons close combat might return. On the contrary
troops keep further off before its effects.

The primitive man, the Arab, is instability incarnate. A breath, a
nothing, governs him at each instant in war. The civilized man, in
war, which is opposed to civilization, returns naturally to his first
instincts.

With the Arab war remains a matter of agility and cunning. Hunting is
his principal pastime and the pursuit of wild beasts teaches the
pursuit of man. General Daumas depicts Arabs as cavaliers. What more
chivalrous warfare than the night surprise and sack of a camp! Empty
words!!

It is commonly said that modern war is the most recondite of things,
requiring experts. War, so long as man risks his skin in it, will
always be a matter of instinct.

Ancient battle resembled drill. There is no such resemblance in modern
battle. This greatly disconcerts both officers and soldiers.

Ancient battles were picnics, for the victors, who lost nobody. Not so
to-day.

Artillery played no part in ancient battle.

The invention of firearms has diminished losses in battle. The
improvement of firearms continues to diminish losses. This looks like
a paradox. But statistics prove it. Nor is it unreasonable.

Does war become deadlier with the improvement of weapons? Not at all.
Man is capable of standing before a certain amount of terror; beyond
that he flees from battle. The battle of Pharsalus lasted some four
hours. Caesar broke his camp, which is done in the morning; then the
formation for battle; then the battle, etc. And he says that his
troops were tired, the battle having lasted up to noon. This indicates
that he considered it long.

For the middle ages, consult Froissart. The knights in the Battle of
the Thirty were armed for battle on foot which they preferred in a
serious affair, that is to say in a restricted space. There was a
halt, a rest in the combat, when the two parties became exhausted. The
Bretons, at this rest, were twenty-five against thirty. The battle had
lasted up to exhaustion without loss by the English! Without Montauban
the battle would have been terminated by complete and mutual
exhaustion and without further losses. For the greater the fatigue,
the less strength remained for piercing the armor. Montauban was at
the same time felon and hero; felon because he did a thing not
permitted by the code of combat; hero, because, if the Bretons had not
ably profited by the disorder, he would have been killed when he
entered the English formation alone. At the end of the contest the
Bretons had four killed, the English eight. Four of the killed were
overcome by their armor.

Explain how, under Turenne, men held much longer under fire than
to-day. It is perfectly simple. Man is capable of standing before only
a certain amount of terror. To-day there must be swallowed in five
minutes what took an hour under Turenne. An example will be given.

With the present arms, whose usage is generally known, the instruction
of the soldier is of little importance. It does not make the soldier.
Take as an example the case of the peasants of the Vendee. Their unity
and not individual instruction made them soldiers, whose value could
not be denied. Such unity was natural in people of the same village of
the same commune, led in battle by their own lords, their own priests,
etc.

The greater the perfection of weapons, the more dreadful becomes
modern battle, and discipline becomes more difficult to maintain.

The less mobile the troops, the deadlier are battles. Bayonet attacks
are not so easily made to-day, and morale consequently is less
affected, man fearing man more than death. Astonishing losses seem to
have been suffered without breaking by Turenne's armies. Were the
casualty reports submitted by the captains of those days correct?

Frederick liked to say that three men behind the enemy were worth more
than fifty in front of him, for moral effect. The field of action
to-day is more extensive than in Frederick's time. Battle is delivered
on more accidented terrain, as armies with great mobility do not need
any particular terrain to fight on.

The nature of ancient arms required close order. Modern arms require
open order, and they are at the same time of such terrible power that
against them too often discipline is broken. What is the solution?
Have your combatants opened out? Have them well acquainted with each
other so as to have unity. Have reserves to threaten with, held with
an iron hand.

Modern weapons have a terrible effect and are almost unbearable by the
nervous system. Who can say that he has not been frightened in battle?
Discipline in battle becomes the more necessary as the ranks become
more open, and the material cohesion of the ranks not giving
confidence, it must spring from a knowledge of comrades, and a trust
in officers, who must always be present and seen. What man to-day
advances with the confidence that rigid discipline and pride in
himself gave the Roman soldier, even though the contest is no longer
with man but with fate?

To-day the artillery is effective at great distances. There is much
liberty of movement for the different arms. The apparent liaison
between arms is lessened. This has its influence on morale. There is
another advantage in reliable troops, in that they can be extended
more widely, and will consequently suffer smaller losses and be in
better morale for close conflict.

The further off one is, the more difficult it is to judge of the
terrain. Consequently the greater is the necessity for scouting, for
reconnoitering the terrain by skirmishers. This is something that the
Duke of Gramont forgot at Nordlingen, and which is often forgotten;
but it constitutes another important reason for the use of
skirmishers.

The formation in rank is a disciplinary measure against the weakness
of man in the face of danger. This weakness is greater to-day in that
the moral action of weapons is more powerful, and that the material
rank has the inherent lack of cohesion of open order. However, open
order is necessary to economize losses and permit the use of weapons.
Thus to-day there is greater necessity than ever for the rank, that is
for discipline, not for the geometrical rank. It is at the same time
more necessary and doubly difficult to attain.

In ancient battle unity existed, at least with the Greeks and the
Romans. The soldier was known to his officer and comrades; they saw
that he fought.

In modern armies where losses are as great for the victor as for the
vanquished, the soldier must more often be replaced. In ancient battle
the victor had no losses. To-day the soldier is often unknown to his
comrades. He is lost in the smoke, the dispersion, the confusion of
battle. He seems to fight alone. Unity is no longer insured by mutual
surveillance. A man falls, and disappears. Who knows whether it was a
bullet or the fear of advancing further that struck him! The ancient
combatant was never struck by an invisible weapon and could not fall
in this way. The more difficult surveillance, the more necessary
becomes the individuality of companies, sections, squads. Not the
least of their boasts should be their ability to stand a roll call at
all times.

The ancients often avoided hand to hand conflict, so terrible were its
consequences. In modern combat, there never is hand to hand conflict
if one stands fast.

From day to day close combat tends to disappear. It is replaced by
fire action; above all by the moral action of maneuvers. Dispersion
brings us back to the necessity for the unity which was an absolute
necessity in ancient battle.

Strategy is a game. The first strategist, long before Napoleon, was
Horace with his three enemies.

The size of the battle field permits, less than ever, holding units
together; the role of the general is much more difficult: many more
chances are left to fate. Thus the greater the necessity for the best
troops who know best their trade, who are most dependable and of
greatest fortitude. To diminish the effect of luck, it is necessary to
hold longer, to wait for help from a distance. Battles resolve
themselves into battles of soldiers. The final decision is more
difficult to obtain. There is a strange similarity in battle at one
league to battle at two paces. The value of the soldier is the
essential element of success. Let us strengthen the soldier by unity.

Battle has more importance than ever. Communication facilities such as
the telegraph, concentration facilities such as the railroad, render
more difficult such strategic surprises as Ulm and Jena. The whole
forces of a country can thus be united. So united, defeat becomes
irreparable, disorganization greater and more rapid.

In modern combat the melee really exists more than in ancient battle.
This appears paradoxical. It is true nevertheless of the melee taken
in the sense of a mixed up affair where it is infinitely difficult to
see clearly.

Man, in the combat of our days, is a man who, hardly knowing how to
swim, is suddenly thrown into the sea.

The good quality of troops will more than ever secure victory.

As to the comparative value of troops with cohesion and of new troops,
look at the Zouaves of the Guard or the Grenadiers at Magenta, and the
55th at Solferino. [34]

Nothing should be neglected to make the battle order stronger, man
stronger.


2. Moral Elements in Battle

When, in complete security, after dinner, in full physical and moral
contentment, men consider war and battle they are animated by a noble
ardor that has nothing in common with reality. How many of them,
however, even at that moment, would be ready to risk their lives? But
oblige them to march for days and weeks to arrive at the battle
ground, and on the day of battle oblige them to wait minutes, hours,
to deliver it. If they were honest they would testify how much the
physical fatigue and the mental anguish that precede action have
lowered their morale, how much less eager to fight they are than a
month before, when they arose from the table in a generous mood.

Man's heart is as changeable as fortune. Man shrinks back, apprehends
danger in any effort in which he does not foresee success. There are
some isolated characters of an iron temper, who resist the tendency;
but they are carried away by the great majority (Bismarck).

Examples show that if a withdrawal is forced, the army is discouraged
and takes flight (Frederick). The brave heart does not change.

Real bravery, inspired by devotion to duty, does not know panic and is
always the same. The bravery sprung from hot blood pleases the
Frenchman more. He understands it, it appeals to his vanity; it is a
characteristic of his nature. But it is passing; it fails him at
times, especially when there is nothing for him to gain in doing his
duty.

The Turks are full of ardor in the advance. They carry their officers
with them. But they retreat with the same facility, abandoning their
officers.

Mediocre troops like to be led by their shepherds. Reliable troops
like to be directed, with their directors alongside of them or behind.
With the former the general must be the leader on horseback; with the
latter, the manager.

Warnery did not like officers to head a charge. He thought it useless
to have them killed before the others. He did not place them in front
and his cavalry was good.

General Leboeuf did not favor the proposed advance into battle with
platoon leaders in front of the center of their platoons. The fear
exists that the fall of the captain will demoralize the rest. What is
the solution? Leboeuf must have known that if the officer is not in
front of his command, it will advance less confidently, that, with us,
all officers are almost always in advance. Practice is stronger than
any theory. Therefore fit theories to it. In column, put the chiefs of
platoon on the flank where they can see clearly.

Frightfulness! Witness the Turks in the Polish wars. What gave power
to the Turks in their wars with Poland was not so much their real
strength as their ferocity. They massacred all who resisted; they
massacred without the excuse of resistance. Terror preceded them,
breaking down the courage of their enemies. The necessity to win or to
submit to extreme peril brought about cowardice and submission, for
fear of being conquered.

Turenne said, "You tremble, body...." The instinct of
self-preservation can then make the strongest tremble. But they are
strong enough to overcome their emotion, the fear of advancing,
without even losing their heads or their coolness. Fear with them
never becomes terror; it is forgotten in the activities of command. He
who does not feel strong enough to keep his heart from ever being
gripped by terror, should never think of becoming an officer.

The soldiers themselves have emotion. The sense of duty, discipline,
pride, the example of their officers and above all their coolness,
sustain them and prevent their fear from becoming terror. Their
emotion never allows them to sight, or to more than approximately
adjust their fire. Often they fire into the air. Cromwell knew this
very well, dependable as his troops were, when he said, "Put your
trust in God and aim at their shoe laces."

What is too true is that bravery often does not at all exclude
cowardice, horrible devices to secure personal safety, infamous
conduct.

The Romans were not mighty men, but men of discipline and obstinacy.
We have no idea of the Roman military mind, so entirely different from
ours. A Roman general who had as little coolness as we have would have
been lost. We have incentives in decorations and medals that would
have made a Roman soldier run the gauntlet.

How many men before a lion, have the courage to look him in the face,
to think of and put into practice measures of self-defense? In war
when terror has seized you, as experience has shown it often does, you
are as before a lion. You fly trembling and let yourself be eaten up.
Are there so few really brave men among so many soldiers? Alas, yes!
Gideon was lucky to find three hundred in thirty thousand.

Napoleon said, "Two Mamelukes held three Frenchmen; but one hundred
French cavalry did not fear the same number of Mamelukes; three
hundred vanquished the same number; one thousand French beat fifteen
hundred Mamelukes. Such was the influence of tactics, order and
maneuver." In ordinary language, such was the great moral influence of
unity, established by discipline and made possible and effective in
battle by organization and mutual support. With unity and sensible
formation men of an individual value one-third less beat those who
were individually their betters. That is the essential, must be the
essential, point in the organization of an army. On reflection, this
simple statement of Napoleon's seems to contain the whole of battle
morale. Make the enemy believe that support is lacking; isolate; cut
off, flank, turn, in a thousand ways make his men believe themselves
isolated. Isolate in like manner his squadrons, battalions, brigades
and divisions; and victory is yours. If, on account of bad
organization, he does not anticipate mutual support, there is no need
of such maneuver; the attack is enough.

Some men, such as Orientals, Chinese, Tartars, Mongols do not fear
death. They are resigned to it at all times. Why is it that they can
not stand before the armies of the western people? It is lack of
organization. The instinct of self-preservation which at the last
moment dominates them utterly, is not opposed by discipline. We have
often seen fanatic eastern peoples, implicitly believing that death in
battle means a happy and glorious resurrection, superior in numbers,
give way before discipline. If attacked confidently, they are crushed
by their own weight. In close combat the dagger is better than the
bayonet, but instinct is too strong for such people.

What makes the soldier capable of obedience and direction in action,
is the sense of discipline. This includes: respect for and confidence
in his chiefs; confidence in his comrades and fear of their reproaches
and retaliation if he abandons them in danger; his desire to go where
others do without trembling more than they; in a word, the whole of
esprit de corps. Organization only can produce these characteristics.
Four men equal a lion.

Note the army organizations and tactical formations on paper are
always determined from the mechanical point of view, neglecting the
essential coefficient, that of morale. They are almost always wrong.

Esprit de corps is secured in war. But war becomes shorter and shorter
and more and more violent. Consequently, secure esprit de corps in
advance.

Mental acquaintanceship is not enough to make a good organization. A
good general esprit is needed. All must work for battle and not merely
live, quietly going through with drills without understanding their
application. Once a man knows how to use his weapon and obey all
commands there is needed only occasional drill to brush up those who
have forgotten. Marches and battle maneuvers are what is needed.

The technical training of the soldier is not the most difficult. It is
necessary for him to know how to use and take care of his weapon; to
know how to move to the right and to the left, forward, to the rear,
at command, to charge and to march with full pack. But this does not
make the soldier. The Vendeans, who knew little of this, were tough
soldiers.

It is absolutely necessary to change the instruction, to reduce it to
the necessary minimum and to cut out all the superfluities with which
peacetime laborers overload it each year. To know the essential well
is better than having some knowledge of a lot of things, many of them
useless. Teach this the first year, that the second, but the essential
from the beginning! Also instruction should be simple to avoid the
mental fatigue of long drills that disgust everybody.

Here is a significant sentence in Colonel Borbstaed's enumeration
of the reasons for Prussian victory over the Austrians in 1866, "It
was ... because each man, being trained, knew how to act promptly and
confidently in all phases of battle." This is a fact.

To be held in a building, at every minute of the day to have every
movement, every attitude under a not too intelligent surveillance is
indeed to be harried. This incessant surveillance weakens the morale
of both the watched and the watcher. What is the reason for this
incessant surveillance which has long since exceeded shipboard
surveillance? Was not that strict enough?


3. Material and Moral Effect

The effect of an army, of one organization on another, is at the same
time material and moral. The material effect of an organization is in
its power to destroy, the moral effect in the fear that it inspires.

In battle, two moral forces, even more than two material forces, are
in conflict. The stronger conquers. The victor has often lost by fire
more than the vanquished. Moral effect does not come entirely from
destructive power, real and effective as it may be. It comes, above
all, from its presumed, threatening power, present in the form of
reserves threatening to renew the battle, of troops that appear on the
flank, even of a determined frontal attack.

Material effect is greater as instruments are better (weapons, mounts,
etc.), as the men know better how to use them, and as the men are more
numerous and stronger, so that in case of success they can carry on
longer.

With equal or even inferior power of destruction he will win who has
the resolution to advance, who by his formations and maneuvers can
continually threaten his adversary with a new phase of material
action, who, in a word has the moral ascendancy. Moral effect inspires
fear. Fear must be changed to terror in order to vanquish.

When confidence is placed in superiority of material means, valuable
as they are against an enemy at a distance, it may be betrayed by the
actions of the enemy. If he closes with you in spite of your
superiority in means of destruction, the morale of the enemy mounts
with the loss of your confidence. His morale dominates yours. You
flee. Entrenched troops give way in this manner.

At Pharsalus, Pompey and his army counted on a cavalry corps turning
and taking Caesar in the rear. In addition Pompey's army was twice as
numerous. Caesar parried the blow, and his enemy, who saw the failure
of the means of action he counted on, was demoralized, beaten, lost
fifteen thousand men put to the sword (while Caesar lost only two
hundred) and as many prisoners.

Even by advancing you affect the morale of the enemy. But your object
is to dominate him and make him retreat before your ascendancy, and it
is certain that everything that diminishes the enemy's morale adds to
your resolution in advancing. Adopt then a formation which permits
your destructive agency, your skirmishers, to help you throughout by
their material action and to this degree diminish that of the enemy.

Armor, in diminishing the material effect that can be suffered,
diminishes the dominating moral effect of fear. It is easy to
understand how much armor adds to the moral effect of cavalry action,
at the critical moment. You feel that thanks to his armor the enemy
will succeed in getting to you.

It is to be noted that when a body actually awaits the attack of
another up to bayonet distance (something extraordinarily rare), and
the attacking troop does not falter, the first does not de

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