Chapter VII: Part I: Naval Principles (2)

Spain, in the same century, afforded an impressive lesson of the weakness caused by such separation when the parts are not knit together by a strong sea power. She then still retained, as remnants of her past greatness, the Netherlands (now Belgium), Sicily, and other Italian possessions, not to speak of her vast colonies in the New World. Yet so low had the Spanish sea power fallen, that a well-informed and sober-minded Hollander of the day could claim that “in Spain all the coast is navigated by a few Dutch ships; and since the peace of 1648 their ships and seamen are so few that they have publicly begun to hire our ships to sail to the Indies, whereas they were formerly careful to exclude all foreigners from there.... It is manifest,” he goes on, “that the West Indies, being as the stomach to Spain (for from it nearly all the revenue is drawn), must be joined to the Spanish head by a sea force; and that Naples and the Netherlands, being like two arms, they cannot lay out their strength for Spain, nor receive anything thence but by shipping,—all which may easily be done by our shipping in peace, and by it obstructed in war.” Half a century before, Sully, the great minister of Henry IV, had characterized Spain “as one of those States whose legs and arms are strong and powerful, but the heart infinitely weak and feeble.” Since his day the Spanish navy had suffered not only disaster, but annihilation; not only humiliation, but degradation. The consequences briefly were that shipping was destroyed; manufactures perished with it. The government depended for its support, not upon a widespread healthy commerce and industry that could survive many a staggering blow, but upon a narrow stream of silver trickling through a few treasure-ships from America, easily and frequently intercepted by an enemy’s cruisers. The loss of half a dozen galleons more than once paralyzed its movements for a year. While the war in the Netherlands lasted, the Dutch control of the sea forced Spain to send her troops by a long and costly journey overland instead of by sea; and the same cause reduced her to such straits for necessaries that, by a mutual arrangement which seems very odd to modern ideas, her wants were supplied by Dutch ships, which thus maintained the enemies of their country, but received in return specie which was welcome in the Amsterdam exchange. In America, the Spanish protected themselves as best they might behind masonry, unaided from home; while in the Mediterranean they escaped insult and injury mainly through the indifference of the Dutch, for the French and English had not yet begun to contend for mastery there. In the course of history the Netherlands, Naples, Sicily, Minorca, Havana, Manila, and Jamaica were wrenched away, at one time or another, from this empire without a shipping. In short, while Spain’s maritime impotence may have been primarily a symptom of her general decay, it became a marked factor in precipitating her into the abyss from which she has not yet wholly emerged.

Except Alaska, the United States has no outlying possession,—no foot of ground inaccessible by land. Its contour is such as to present few points specially weak from their saliency, and all important parts of the frontiers can be readily attained,—cheaply by water, rapidly by rail. The weakest frontier, the Pacific, is far removed from the most dangerous of possible enemies. The internal resources are boundless as compared with present needs; we can live off ourselves indefinitely in “our little corner,” to use the expression of a French officer to the author. Yet should that little corner be invaded by a new commercial route through the Isthmus, the United States in her turn may have the rude awakening of those who have abandoned their share in the common birthright of all people, the sea.

III. _Extent of Territory._—The last of the conditions affecting the development of a nation as a sea power, and touching the country itself as distinguished from the people who dwell there, is Extent of Territory. This may be dismissed with comparatively few words.

As regards the development of sea power, it is not the total number of square miles which a country contains, but the length of its coast-line and the character of its harbors that are to be considered. As to these it is to be said that, the geographical and physical conditions being the same, extent of sea-coast is a source of strength or weakness according as the population is large or small. A country is in this like a fortress; the garrison must be proportioned to the _enceinte_. A recent familiar instance is found in the American War of Secession. Had the South had a people as numerous as it was warlike, and a navy commensurate to its other resources as a sea power, the great extent of its sea-coast and its numerous inlets would have been elements of great strength. The people of the United States and the Government of that day justly prided themselves on the effectiveness of the blockade of the whole Southern coast. It was a great feat, a very great feat; but it would have been an impossible feat had the Southerners been more numerous, and a nation of seamen. What was there shown was not, as has been said, how such a blockade can be maintained, but that such a blockade is possible in the face of a population not only unused to the sea, but also scanty in numbers. Those who recall how the blockade was maintained, and the class of ships that blockaded during great part of the war, know that the plan, correct under the circumstances, could not have been carried out in the face of a real navy. Scattered unsupported along the coast, the United States ships kept their places, singly or in small detachments, in face of an extensive network of inland water communications which favored secret concentration of the enemy. Behind the first line of water communications were long estuaries, and here and there strong fortresses, upon either of which the enemy’s ships could always fall back to elude pursuit or to receive protection. Had there been a Southern navy to profit by such advantages, or by the scattered condition of the United States ships, the latter could not have been distributed as they were; and being forced to concentrate for mutual support, many small but useful approaches would have been left open to commerce. But as the Southern coast, from its extent and many inlets, might have been a source of strength, so, from those very characteristics, it became a fruitful source of injury. The great story of the opening of the Mississippi is but the most striking illustration of an action that was going on incessantly all over the South. At every breach of the sea frontier, warships were entering. The streams that had carried the wealth and supported the trade of the seceding States turned against them, and admitted their enemies to their hearts. Dismay, insecurity, paralysis, prevailed in regions that might, under happier auspices, have kept a nation alive through the most exhausting war. Never did sea power play a greater or a more decisive part than in the contest which determined that the course of the world’s history would be modified by the existence of one great nation, instead of several rival States, in the North American continent. But while just pride is felt in the well-earned glory of those days, and the greatness of the results due to naval preponderance is admitted, Americans who understand the facts should never fail to remind the overconfidence of their countrymen that the South not only had no navy, not only was not a seafaring people, but that also its population was not proportioned to the extent of the sea-coast which it had to defend.

IV. _Number of Population._—After the consideration of the natural conditions of a country should follow an examination of the characteristics of its population as affecting the development of sea power; and first among these will be taken, because of its relations to the extent of the territory, which has just been discussed, the number of the people who live in it. It has been said that in respect of dimensions it is not merely the number of square miles, but the extent and character of the sea-coast that is to be considered with reference to sea power; and so, in point of population, it is not only the grand total, but the number following the sea, or at least readily available for employment on shipboard and for the creation of naval material, that must be counted.

For example, formerly and up to the end of the great wars following the French Revolution, the population of France was much greater than that of England; but in respect of sea power in general, peaceful commerce as well as military efficiency, France was much inferior to England. In the matter of military efficiency this fact is the more remarkable because at times, in point of military preparation at the outbreak of war, France had the advantage; but she was not able to keep it. Thus in 1778, when war broke out, France, through her maritime inscription, was able to man at once fifty ships-of-the-line. England, on the contrary, by reason of the dispersal over the globe of that very shipping on which her naval strength so securely rested, had much trouble in manning forty at home; but in 1782 she had one hundred and twenty in commission or ready for commission, while France had never been able to exceed seventy-one.

[The need is further shown, not only of a large seafaring population, but of skilled mechanics and artisans to facilitate ship construction and repair and supply capable recruits for the navy.—EDITOR.]

... That our own country is open to the same reproach is patent to all the world. The United States has not that shield of defensive power behind which time can be gained to develop its reserve of strength. As for a seafaring population adequate to her possible needs, where is it? Such a resource, proportionate to her coast-line and population, is to be found only in a national merchant shipping and its related industries, which at present scarcely exist. It will matter little whether the crews of such ships are native or foreign born, provided they are attached to the flag, and her power at sea is sufficient to enable the most of them to get back in case of war. When foreigners by thousands are admitted to the ballot, it is of little moment that they are given fighting-room on board ship.

Though the treatment of the subject has been somewhat discursive, it may be admitted that a great population following callings related to the sea is, now as formerly, a great element of sea power; that the United States is deficient in that element; and that its foundations can be laid only in a large commerce under her own flag.

V. _National Character._—The effect of national character and aptitudes upon the development of sea power will next be considered.

If sea power be really based upon a peaceful and extensive commerce, aptitude for commercial pursuits must be a distinguishing feature of the nations that have at one time or another been great upon the sea. History almost without exception affirms that this is true. Save the Romans, there is no marked instance to the contrary.

[Here follows a survey, covering several pages, of the commercial history and colonial policies of Spain, Holland, and Great Britain.—EDITOR.]

... The fact of England’s unique and wonderful success as a great colonizing nation is too evident to be dwelt upon; and the reason for it appears to lie chiefly in two traits of the national character. The English colonist naturally and readily settles down in his new country, identifies his interest with it, and though keeping an affectionate remembrance of the home from which he came, has no restless eagerness to return. In the second place, the Englishman at once and instinctively seeks to develop the resources of the new country in the broadest sense. In the former particular he differs from the French, who were ever longingly looking back to the delights of their pleasant land; in the latter, from the Spaniards, whose range of interest and ambition was too narrow for the full evolution of the possibilities of a new country.

The character and the necessities of the Dutch led them naturally to plant colonies; and by the year 1650 they had in the East Indies, in Africa, and in America a large number, only to name which would be tedious. They were then far ahead of England in this matter. But though the origin of these colonies, purely commercial in its character, was natural, there seems to have been lacking to them a principle of growth. “In planting them they never sought an extension of empire, but merely an acquisition of trade and commerce. They attempted conquest only when forced by the pressure of circumstances. Generally they were content to trade under the protection of the sovereign of the country.” This placid satisfaction with gain alone, unaccompanied by political ambition, tended, like the despotism of France and Spain, to keep the colonies mere commercial dependencies upon the mother-country, and so killed the natural principle of growth.

Before quitting this head of the inquiry, it is well to ask how far the national character of Americans is fitted to develop a great sea power, should other circumstances become favorable.

It seems scarcely necessary, however, to do more than appeal to a not very distant past to prove that, if legislative hindrances be removed, and more remunerative fields of enterprise filled up, the sea power will not long delay its appearance. The instinct for commerce, bold enterprise in pursuit of gain, and a keen scent for trails that lead to it, all exist; and if there be in the future any fields calling for colonization, it cannot be doubted that Americans will carry to them all their inherited aptitude for self-government and independent growth.

VI. _Character of the Government._—In discussing the effects upon the development of a nation’s sea power exerted by its government and institutions, it will be necessary to avoid a tendency to over-philosophizing, to confine attention to obvious and immediate causes and their plain results, without prying too far beneath the surface for remote and ultimate influences.

Nevertheless, it must be noted that particular forms of government with their accompanying institutions, and the character of rulers at one time or another, have exercised a very marked influence upon the development of sea power. The various traits of a country and its people which have so far been considered constitute the natural characteristics with which a nation, like a man, begins its career; the conduct of the government in turn corresponds to the exercise of the intelligent will-power, which, according as it is wise, energetic and persevering, or the reverse, causes success or failure in a man’s life or a nation’s history.

It would seem probable that a government in full accord with the natural bias of its people would most successfully advance its growth in every respect; and, in the matter of sea power, the most brilliant successes have followed where there has been intelligent direction by a government fully imbued with the spirit of the people and conscious of its true general bent. Such a government is most certainly secured when the will of the people, or of their best natural exponents, has some large share in making it; but such free governments have sometimes fallen short, while on the other hand despotic power, wielded with judgment and consistency, has created at times a great sea commerce and a brilliant navy with greater directness than can be reached by the slower processes of a free people. The difficulty in the latter case is to insure perseverance after the death of a particular despot.

England having undoubtedly reached the greatest height of sea power of any modern nation, the action of her government first claims attention. In general direction this action has been consistent, though often far from praiseworthy. It has aimed steadily at the control of the sea.

[The remainder of the chapter, quoted in part on pp. 141–146, outlines the extension of Great Britain’s trade and sea power during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.—EDITOR.]

4. DEFINITION OF TERMS[20]

_Strategy, Tactics, Logistics_

“Strategy,” says Jomini, speaking of the art of war on land, “is the art of making war upon the map, and comprehends the whole theater of warlike operations. Grand tactics is the art of posting troops upon the battlefield, according to the accidents of the ground; of bringing them into action; and the art of fighting upon the ground in contradistinction to planning upon a map. Its operations may extend over a field of ten or twelve miles in extent. Strategy decides where to act. Grand tactics decides the manner of execution and the employment of troops,” when, by the combinations of strategy, they have been assembled at the point of action.

... Between Strategy and Grand Tactics comes logically Logistics. Strategy decides where to act; Logistics is the act of moving armies; it brings the troops to the point of action and controls questions of supply; Grand Tactics decides the methods of giving battle.

5. FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES[21]

_Central Position, Interior Lines, Communications_

The situation here used in illustration is taken from the Thirty Years’ War, 1618–1648, in which the French House of Bourbon opposed the House of Austria, the latter controlling Spain, Austria, and parts of Germany. France lay between Spain and Austria; but if Spain commanded the sea, her forces could reach the field of conflict in central Europe either by way of Belgium or by way of the Duchy of Milan in northern Italy, both of which were under her rule.

[The upper course of the Danube between Ulm and Ratisbon is also employed to illustrate central position, dominating the great European theater of war north of the Alps and east of the Rhine.—EDITOR.]

The situation of France relatively to her two opponents of this period—Spain and Austria—illustrates three elements of strategy, of frequent mention, which it is well here to name and to define, as well as to illustrate by the instance before you.

1. There is central position, illustrated by France; her national power and control interposing by land between her enemies. Yet not by land only, provided the coast supports an adequate navy; for, if that be the case, the French fleet also interposes between Spanish and Italian ports. The Danube is similarly an instance of central position.

2. Interior lines. The characteristic of interior lines is that of the central position prolonged in one or more directions, thus favoring sustained interposition between separate bodies of an enemy; with the consequent power to concentrate against either, while holding the other in check with a force possibly distinctly inferior. An interior line may be conceived as the extension of a central position, or as a series of central positions connected with one another, as a geometrical line is a continuous series of geometrical points. The expression “Interior Lines” conveys the meaning that from a central position one can assemble more rapidly on either of two opposite fronts than the enemy can, and therefore can utilize force more effectively. Particular examples of maritime interior lines are found in the route by Suez as compared with that by the Cape of Good Hope, and in Panama contrasted with Magellan. The Kiel Canal similarly affords an interior line between the Baltic and North Sea, as against the natural channels passing round Denmark, or between the Danish Islands,—the Sound and the two Belts.[22] These instances of “Interior” will recall one of your boyhood’s geometrical theorems, demonstrating that, from a point interior to a triangle, lines drawn to two angles are shorter than the corresponding sides of the triangle itself. Briefly, interior lines are lines shorter in time than those the enemy can use. France, for instance, in the case before us, could march twenty thousand men to the Rhine, or to the Pyrenees, or could send necessary supplies to either, sooner than Spain could send the same number to the Rhine, or Austria to the Pyrenees, granting even that the sea were open to their ships.

3. The position of France relatively to Germany and Spain illustrates also the question of communications. “Communications” is a general term, designating the lines of movement by which a military body, army or fleet, is kept in living connection with the national power. This being the leading characteristic of communications, they may be considered essentially lines of defensive action; while interior lines are rather offensive in character, enabling the belligerent favored by them to attack in force one part of the hostile line sooner than the enemy can reinforce it, because the assailant is nearer than the friend. As a concrete instance, the disastrous attempt already mentioned, of Spain in 1639 to send reinforcements by the Channel, followed the route from Corunna to the Straits of Dover. It did so because at that particular moment the successes of France had given her control of part of the valley of the Rhine, closing it to the Spaniards from Milan; while the more eastern route through Germany was barred by the Swedes, who in the Thirty Years’ War were allies of France. The Channel therefore at that moment remained the only road open from Spain to the Netherlands, between which it became the line of communications. Granting the attempt had been successful, the line followed is exterior; for, assuming equal rapidity of movement, ten thousand men starting from central France should reach the field sooner.

The central position of France, therefore, gave both defensive and offensive advantage. In consequence of the position she had interior lines, shorter lines, by which to attack, and also her communications to either front lay behind the front, were covered by the army at the front; in other words, had good defense, besides being shorter than those by which the enemy on one front could send help to the other front. Further, by virtue of her position, the French ports on the Atlantic and Channel flanked the Spanish sea communications.

At the present moment, Germany and Austria-Hungary, as members of the Triple Alliance, have the same advantage of central and concentrated position against the Triple _Entente_, Russia, France, and Great Britain.

]

Transfer now your attention back to the Danube when the scene of war is in that region; as it was in 1796, and also frequently was during the period of which we are now speaking.... You have seen before, that, if there be war between Austria and France, as there so often was, the one who held the Danube had a central position in the region. Holding means possession by military power, which power can be used to the full against the North or against the South—offensive power—far more easily than the South and North can combine against him; because he is nearer to each than either is to the other. (See map.) Should North wish to send a big reinforcement to South, it cannot march across the part of the Danube held, but must march around it above or below; exactly as, in 1640, reinforcements from Spain to the Rhine had, so to say, to march around France. In such a march, on land, the reinforcement making it is necessarily in a long column, because roads do not allow a great many men to walk abreast. The road followed designates in fact the alignment of the reinforcement from day to day; and because its advance continually turns the side to the enemy, around whom it is moving, the enemy’s position is said to flank the movement, constituting a recognized danger. It makes no difference whether the line of march is straight or curved; it is extension upon it that constitutes the danger, because the line itself, being thin, is everywhere weak, liable to an attack in force upon a relatively small part of its whole. Communications are exposed, and the enemy has the interior line....

This is an illustration of the force of Napoleon’s saying, that “War is a business of positions.” All this discussion turns on position; the ordinary, semi-permanent, positions of Center, North, and South; or the succession of positions occupied by the detachment on that line of communications along which it moves. This illustrates the importance of positions in a single instance, but is by no means exhaustive of that importance. Fully to comprehend, it is necessary to study military and naval history; bearing steadily in mind Napoleon’s saying, and the definitions of central position, interior lines, and communications.

Take, for example, an instance so recent as to have been contemporary with men not yet old,—the Turkish position at Plevna in 1877. This stopped the Russian advance on Constantinople for almost five months. Why? Because, if they had gone on, Plevna would have been close to their line of communications, and in a central position relatively to their forces at the front and those in the rear, or behind the Danube. It was also so near, that, if the enemy advanced far, the garrison of Plevna could reach the only bridge across the Danube, at Sistova, and might destroy it, before help could come; that is, Plevna possessed an interior line towards a point of the utmost importance. Under these circumstances, Plevna alone arrested the whole Russian movement. In the recent war between Japan and Russia,[23] the Port Arthur fleet similarly threatened the Japanese line of communications from Japan to Manchuria, and so affected the whole conduct of the war. It was central, as regards Japan and Liao-Yang, or Mukden. Study of such conditions reinforces knowledge, by affording numerous illustrations of the effect of position under very differing circumstances.

Let us now go back from the Danube with its Center, North, and South, to the communications between the Spanish coast and the Austrian army in Germany. Should the House of Austria in Spain desire to send large reinforcements to the Danube, or to the Rhine, by way of Italy, it can do so, provided it controls the sea; and provided also that France has not shaken its hold upon North Italy. Such a condition constitutes open and safe communications. If, however, command of the sea is not assured, if the French navy, say at Toulon, is equal to the Spanish navy in the neighborhood, there is danger of a reverse; while if the French navy is superior locally, there is great danger not merely of a reverse but of a serious disaster. In such a case the French navy, or the port of Toulon, flanks the Spanish line of communication; again an instance of position. As to position, Toulon would correspond to Plevna and Port Arthur. This instance illustrates, however, as Port Arthur conspicuously did, that the value of a position is not in the bare position, but in the use you make of it. This, it is pertinent to note, is just the value of anything a man possesses, his brains or his fortune—the use he makes of either. Should the French navy be decisively inferior locally to the Spanish, Toulon loses its importance. As position it is still good, but it cannot be used. It is an unavailable asset. So at Plevna, had the garrison been so small that it could not take the field, the place either would have been captured, or could have been watched by a detachment, while the main Russian body moved on. At Port Arthur, the inefficiency of the Russian navy permitted this course to the Japanese. They watched the place by navy and army, and went on with their march in Manchuria. Even so, the threat inherent in the position compelled an immense detachment of troops necessary for the siege, and so greatly weakened the main army in its action.

Note that it is the nearness of Toulon, as of Plevna, which constitutes the menace to the line of communication; the line from the port to that of the communications is thus an interior line, short, enabling an attack by surprise, or in force. It is the same consideration that has made Cadiz at one time, Gibraltar now, Malta, Jamaica, Guantanamo Bay, all threatening positions; the ones to vessels bound up or down the Mediterranean to or from Suez, the others to vessels going to or from the Isthmus of Panama. If it had been feasible for Spain to carry her reinforcements south of Sardinia and thence north, Toulon would so far have lost much of this value. As the line drew near Genoa, it would have regained control only in some measure; that is, to a less degree and for a shorter time. As a matter of fact such roundabout lines, _fausses routes_ as Napoleon called them, have played a notable part in the strategy of a weaker party. The most convenient commercial route is not necessarily the most significant to strategy. Napoleon, for example, when bound to Egypt from Malta in 1798, did not go direct, but first sighted Crete and then bore away for Egypt. Owing to this, Nelson in pursuit missed the French because he naturally went direct.

The same beneficial effect—the same amount of protection as a roundabout line would give—might have been obtained if the Spanish navy on the Atlantic coast threatened French ports and commerce, and thus induced France to keep her navy, in whole or in part, in that quarter, weakening her Toulon force; so that, though favorably situated, it was not strong enough to attack. This was actually the case up to 1634, in which year the defeat of the allies of France at Nordlingen, due to Spanish troops from Italy reinforcing the Imperial armies in Germany, compelled France to declare open war against Spain and to transfer her fleet to the Mediterranean. This effect was produced also in 1898 on the United States; not by the Spanish navy, which was innoxious in everything but talk, but by the fears of the American people, which prompted the American Government to keep the so-called Flying Squadron in Hampton Roads, instead of close to the probable scene of war. Owing to this distribution, if Cervera’s squadron had been efficient, it could have got into Cienfuegos instead of Santiago; a very much harder nut to crack, because in close railroad communication with Havana and with the great mass of the Spanish army in Cuba. It is the same sort of unintelligent fear which prompts the demand now to send half the battle fleet to the Pacific. No course could be more entirely satisfactory to an enemy, or more paralyzing to the United States fleet, than just this. All or none; the battle fleet concentrated, whether in the Pacific or the Atlantic.

You will remember that in the war with Spain the United States navy had reproduced for it the situation I have depicted, of a detachment trying to pass round the Danube from North to South. The “Oregon” was the detachment, and she had to join the American fleet in the West Indies, in spite of the Spanish squadron. She reached Barbados May 18; the day before Cervera entered Santiago, and six days after he left Martinique, which is only one hundred miles from Barbados. The utter inefficiency of the Spanish navy has caused us to lose sight of the risk to the “Oregon,” which was keenly felt by her commander, and concerning which at the moment two former secretaries of the navy expressed to me their anxiety. Despite this experience, there are those now who would reconstitute it for us, half the fleet in the Pacific and half in the Atlantic. Should then war arise with a European state, or with Japan, it would be open to either enemy to take the Danube position between our two divisions, as Togo did between the Port Arthur and the Baltic squadrons....

_Concentration_

The general war against the House of Austria, as conducted by Richelieu, appears to have suffered from the same cause that saps the vigor of many wars; he attempted too many things at once, instead of concentrating for decided superiority in some one or two localities. For such concentration he had good opportunities, owing to the central position and interior lines possessed by France. It was open to him to act in great force either in Belgium, or on the Rhine, or in Italy, or towards Spain. Moreover, he had the initial advantage of a natural concentration: one nation against two, and those separated in space. The proverbial weakness of alliances is due to inferior power of concentration. Granting the same aggregate of force, it is never as great in two hands as in one, because it is not perfectly concentrated. Each party to an alliance usually has its particular aim, which divides action. In any military scheme that comes before you, let your first question to yourself be, Is this consistent with the requirement of concentration? Never attempt to straddle, to do two things at the same time, unless your force is evidently so supreme that you have clearly more than enough for each.

Our profession has never produced a man more daring in enterprise, nor more skillful in management, than Nelson. Remember, therefore, and always, that, when he sent off two frigates on some expedition, he charged their captains:

“If you meet two enemies, do not each attack one. Combine both on one of the enemy; you will make sure of that one, and you may also get the other afterwards; but, whether the second escape or not, your country will have won a victory, and gained a ship.”

The same consideration applies to ship design. You cannot have everything. If you attempt it, you will lose everything; by which I mean that in no one quality will your vessel be as efficient as if you had concentrated purpose on that one. On a given tonnage,—which in ship-building corresponds to a given size of army or of fleet,—there cannot be had the highest speed, _and_ the heaviest battery, _and_ the thickest armor, _and_ the longest coal endurance, which the tonnage would allow to any one of these objects by itself. If you try, you will be repeating Richelieu’s mistake when he tried to carry on offensive war on four frontiers.

The fighting order of navies still continues a line; which is called more properly a column, because the ships are ranged one behind the other. Nevertheless, if the arrangement of the guns, from van to rear, is regarded, it will be seen that they really are deployed on a line fronting the enemy. As a rule, in instructed naval warfare, attack has been on one flank of that line. It is commonly spoken of as an attack on van or rear, because of the columnar formation of the ships, but it is really a flank attack; and, whichever flank is chosen, the attack on the other is essentially refused, because the numbers devoted to it are not sufficient to press an attack home. The culmination of the sail era—Trafalgar—was fought exactly on these lines. Nelson concentrated the bulk of his fleet, a superior force, on the left flank of the enemy, which happened to be the rear; against the right flank he sent a smaller number. He did not indeed give specific orders to the smaller body not to attack, or to refuse themselves. That was not his way. Moreover, he intended himself to take charge of this attack in smaller force, and to be governed by circumstances as to the development of it; but the result was shown in the fact that the larger part of the enemy’s right flank escaped, and all probably would if they had maneuvered well. The hostile loss fell on the other flank and on the center; and not only was this the case in result, but also Nelson in form and in his orders purposed just this. He put the concentrated attack in the hands of his second; “I,” said he, in effect, “will see that the other flank of the enemy does not interfere.” Conditions modified his action; but that was his plan, and although, from the particular conditions, he actually pierced the enemy’s center, still, having done so, the subsequent attack fell upon the flank originally intended, while the other flank was kept in check by the rear ships of Nelson’s own division. These, as they advanced in column, lay athwart the line by which the enemy’s van, if it tacked, would approach the rear, or other flank; and they thus prevented its approach by that route until too late to be effective.

Nelson, who was a thoughtful as well as a daring tactician, expressed reasons for attacking one flank rather than another, under differing conditions in which the fleets presented themselves; but, speaking generally, the rear was the better to attack, because the van could not, and cannot, come as soon to help the rear as the rear can the van. It has to turn round, to begin with; and, before turning round, its commander has to make up his mind, which few men do quickly, unless they have reached conclusions beforehand. All this means time. Besides, the assailant can more easily place himself in the way of such new movement of the van, than he can of the rear coming up on the line of advance it already has. Still, there are some reasons in favor of the van. Nelson in 1801 said that in case of encountering a Russian fleet he would attack the van; because injury to it would throw the enemy’s order into confusion, from which the Russians were not good enough maneuverers to recover. That is a special reason, not a general. It takes account of a particular circumstance, as a general on shore does of a particular locality. When Farragut passed the Mobile forts his van was thrown into confusion, and all know what a critical moment that was. It matters little what the incident is, if the confusion is produced.

In the Battle of the Japan Sea the attack again was on a flank, and that the van. Whether this was due to previous purpose of the Japanese, or merely arose from the conditions as they presented themselves, I do not know; but its tendency certainly would be to cause confusion. I do not wish, however, to argue here a question of tactics. My subject is strategy, and I am using tactics simply to illustrate the predominance, everywhere, under all conditions and from the nature of things, of the one great principle of concentration; and that, too, in the specific method of so distributing your own force as to be superior to the enemy in one quarter, while in the other you hold him in check long enough to permit your main attack to reach its full result. That necessary time may be half an hour on a field of battle; in a campaign it may be days, weeks, perhaps more.

... In any frontier line, or any strategic front of operations, or any line of battle, offensive effort may, and therefore should, be concentrated in one part, not distributed along the whole. This possibility, and a convenient way of conceiving it, Jomini expresses in an aphorism which may be commended to memory, because it sums up one important consideration concerning any military disposition whatever; whether it be the strategic front of operations in a campaign, or a tactical order of battle, or a frontier. Every such situation, Jomini says, may be properly regarded as a line; and every line divides, logically and actually, into three parts,—the center, and the two extremes, or flanks.

Guard yourselves, of course, from imagining three _equal_ parts. We are not dealing here with mathematics, but with military conceptions. For practical results, let us apply at once to the United States of to-day. The United States has a long ocean frontier, broken at Mexico by the interposition of land, as the French maritime frontier is broken at the Pyrenees; yet the coast lines, like the French, possess a certain maritime continuity, in that ships can pass from end to end by sea. In such cases, it may be said without exaggeration that an ocean frontier is continuous. At present, the United States has one frontier which is strictly continuous, by land as by water, from the coast of Maine to the Rio Grande. There are in it, by natural division, three principal parts: the Atlantic, the Gulf, and the Straits of Florida. I do not deny that for purposes of study further convenient subdivisions may be made; but it may fairly be claimed that these three are clear, are primary, and are principal. They are very unequal in length, and, from the military standpoint, in importance; for while the peninsula of Florida does not rank very high in the industrial interests of the nation, a superior hostile fleet securely based in the Straits of Florida could effectively control intercourse by water between the two flanks. It would possess central position; and in virtue of that central position, its superiority need not be over the whole United States navy, should that be divided on each side of the central position. The supposed enemy, in such position, would need only to be decisively superior to each of the divisions lying on either side; whereas, were they united, superiority would require to be over the whole. It was this condition which made Cuba for the first century of our national existence a consideration of the first importance in our International relations. It flanked national communications, commercial and military. We know that there exists in our country an element of wisdom which would treat such a situation, which geography has constituted for us, as two boys do an apple. This would divide the fleet between the two coasts, and call it fair to both; because, so it is reasoned,—or rather argued,—defending both. It certainly, however, would not be concentration, nor effective.

Before passing on, note the striking resemblance between the Florida peninsula and that of Korea. Togo, at Masampo, was to Rozhestvensky and the Russians at Vladivostok just as a hostile fleet in the Straits of Florida would be to American divisions in the Gulf and at Hampton Roads. In like manner at an earlier period Togo and Kamimura, working apart but on interior lines, separated the three fine fighting ships in Vladivostok from the Port Arthur division.

The United States, however, has an even more urgent situation as to frontier in its Atlantic and Pacific coasts. If my claim is correct, in the instance of France, that a water frontier is continuous when passage from end to end by water is practicable, this is also continuous; and the battle fleet has demonstrated the fact within the past few years. The United States, then, has a maritime frontier line from Eastport, Maine, to Puget Sound; and, like other military lines, it divides into three principal parts immediately obvious,—the Atlantic Coast, the Pacific Coast, and the line between. This summary will not be any more true, nor any more useful for reflection, when the line passes by Panama instead of the Straits of Magellan; but it certainly will be more obvious. It then will be seen easily, as now may be seen certainly, that the important part of the long line in the present case, as in the future, is the center, because that insures or prevents passage in force from side to side; the transfer of force; in short, the communications. This reproduces again the Danube position, and also the chain of Spanish positions from Genoa to Belgium. It is once more the central position, which we have met before in such varying localities and periods; but the central position of Panama has over that now open to us, by Magellan, the advantage of interior lines, of which class of lines indeed the contrast between the existing and the future of routes offers a notable illustration.

6. STRATEGIC POSITIONS[24]

The strategic value of any place depends upon three principal conditions:

1. Its position, or more exactly its situation. A place may have great strength, but be so situated with regard to the strategic lines as not to be worth occupying.

2. Its military strength, offensive and defensive. A place may be well situated and have large resources and yet possess little strategic value, because weak. It may, on the other hand, while not naturally strong, be given artificial strength for defense. The word “fortify” means simply to make strong.

3. The resources, of the place itself and of the surrounding country....

Where all three conditions, situation, intrinsic strength, and abundant resources, are found in the same place, it becomes of great consequence strategically and may be of the very first importance, though not always. For it must be remarked that there are other considerations, lesser in the purely military point of view, which enhance the consequence of a seaport even strategically; such as its being a great mart of trade, a blow to which would cripple the prosperity of the country; or the capital, the fall of which has a political effect additional to its importance otherwise.

I. _Situation_

Of the three principal conditions, the first, situation, is the most indispensable; because strength and resources can be artificially supplied or increased, but it passes the power of man to change the situation of a port which lies outside the limits of strategic effect.

Generally, value of situation depends upon nearness to a sea route; to those lines of trade which, when drawn upon the ocean common, are as imaginary as the parallels of the chart, yet as really and usefully exist. If the position be on two routes at the same time, that is, near the crossing, the value is enhanced. A cross-roads is essentially a central position, facilitating action in as many directions as there are roads. Those familiar with works on the art of land war will recognize the analogies. The value becomes yet more marked if, by the lay of the land, the road to be followed becomes very narrow; as at the Straits of Gibraltar, the English Channel, and in a less degree the Florida Strait. Perhaps narrowing should be applied to every inlet of the sea, by which trade enters into and is distributed over a great extent of country; such as the mouth of the Mississippi, of the Dutch and German rivers, New York harbor, etc. As regards the sea, however, harbors or the mouths of rivers are usually _termini_ or _entrepôts_, at which goods are transshipped before going farther. If the road be narrowed to a mere canal, or to the mouth of a river, the point to which vessels must come is reduced almost to the geometrical definition of a point and near-by positions have great command. Suez presents this condition now, and Panama soon will.

Analogously, positions in narrow seas are more important than those in the great ocean, because it is less possible to avoid them by a circuit. If these seas are not merely the ends—“_termini_”—of travel but “highways,” parts of a continuous route; that is, if commerce not only comes to them but passes through to other fields beyond, the number of passing ships is increased and thereby the strategic value of the controlling points....

II. _Military Strength_

A. _Defensive Strength._ [Military strength is considered in two aspects, (A) defensive, and (B) offensive. Under defensive strength, it is first pointed out that, as illustrated by Port Arthur and Santiago, coast bases are in chief danger of capture from the land side. While it is the business of the navy to prevent the landing of forces, its operations, though defensive in result, must be offensive in character, and not confined to the vicinity of the bases.—EDITOR.]

In the sphere of maritime war, the navy represents the army in the field; and the fortified strategic harbors, upon which it falls back as ports of refuge after battle or defeat, for repairs or for supplies, correspond precisely to strongholds, like Metz, Strasburg, Ulm, upon which, systematically occupied with reference to the strategic character of the theater of war, military writers agree the defense of a country must be founded. The foundation, however, must not be taken for the superstructure for which it exists. In war, the defensive exists mainly that the offensive may act more freely. In sea warfare, the offensive is assigned to the navy; and if the latter assumes to itself the defensive, it simply locks up a part of its trained men in garrisons, which could be filled as well by forces that have not their peculiar skill. To this main proposition I must add a corollary, that if the defense of ports, many in number, be attributed to the navy, experience shows that the navy will be subdivided among them to an extent that will paralyze its efficiency. I was amused, but at the same time instructed as to popular understanding of war, by the consternation aroused in Great Britain by one summer’s maneuvers, already alluded to, and the remedy proposed in some papers. It appeared that several seaports were open to bombardment and consequent exaction of subsidies by a small squadron, and it was gravely urged that the navy should be large enough to spare a small detachment to each port. Of what use is a navy, if it is to be thus whittled away? But a popular outcry will drown the voice of military experience.

... The strictly defensive strength of a seaport depends therefore upon permanent works, the provision of which is not the business of naval officers. The navy is interested in them because, when effective, they release it from any care about the port; from defensive action to the offensive, which is its proper sphere.

There is another sense in which a navy is regarded as defensive; namely, that the existence of an adequate navy protects from invasion by commanding the sea. That is measurably and in very large degree true, and is a strategic function of great importance; but this is a wholly different question from that of the defensive strength of seaports, of strategic points, with which we are now dealing. It therefore will be postponed, with a simple warning against the opinion that because the navy thus defends there is no need for local protection of the strategic ports; no need, that is, for fortifications. This view affirms that a military force can always, under all circumstances, dispense with secure bases of operations; in other words, that it can never be evaded, nor know momentary mishap.

I have now put before you reasons for rejecting the opinion that the navy is the proper instrument, generally speaking, for coast defense in the narrow sense of the expression, which limits it to the defense of ports. The reasons given may be summed up, and reduced to four principles, as follows:

1. That for the same amount of offensive power, floating batteries, or vessels of very little mobility, are less strong defensively against naval attack than land works are.

2. That by employing able-bodied seafaring men to defend harbors you lock up offensive strength in an inferior, that is, in a defensive, effort.

3. That it is injurious to the _morale_ and skill of seamen to keep them thus on the defensive and off the sea. This has received abundant historical proof in the past.

4. That in giving up the offensive the navy gives up its proper sphere, which is also the most effective.

B. _Offensive Strength._—The offensive strength of a seaport, considered independently of its strategic situation and of its natural and acquired resources, consists in its capacity:

1. To assemble and hold a large military force, of both ships of war and transports.

2. To launch such force safely and easily into the deep.

3. To follow it with a continued support until the campaign is ended. In such support are always to be reckoned facilities for docking, as the most important of all supports.

[These points are discussed in detail. It is noted that a port with two outlets, like New York and Vladivostok, has a decided advantage.—EDITOR.]

III. _Resources_

The wants of a navy are so many and so varied that it would be time lost to name them separately. The resources which meet them may be usefully divided under two heads, natural and artificial. The latter, again, may be conveniently and accurately subdivided into resources developed by man in his peaceful occupation and use of a country, and those which are immediately and solely created for the maintenance of war.