PART I

MAHAN ON NAVAL WARFARE

_The Writings of_

REAR ADMIRAL ALFRED T. MAHAN

The Influence of Sea Power upon History, 1660–1783.

The Influence of Sea Power upon the French Revolution and Empire,

1793–1812. 2 vols.

Sea Power in Its Relations to the War of 1812. 2 vols.

The Interest of America in Sea Power, Present and Future.

The Life of Nelson, the Embodiment of the Sea Power of Great Britain.

2 vols.

Types of Naval Officers.

Retrospect and Prospect.

Lessons of the War with Spain, and other Articles.

The Problem of Asia, and Its Effect upon International Policies.

Some Neglected Aspects of War.

Naval Administration and Warfare.

The Interest of America in International Conditions.

Naval Strategy.

The Major Operations of the Navies in the War of American

Independence.

The Harvest Within.

[Illustration:

REAR ADMIRAL ALFRED T. MAHAN, U.S.N.

]

MAHAN ON NAVAL WARFARE

SELECTIONS FROM THE WRITINGS OF REAR ADMIRAL ALFRED T. MAHAN

EDITED BY

ALLAN WESTCOTT, PH.D.

INSTRUCTOR, UNITED STATES NAVAL ACADEMY

WITH MAPS AND DIAGRAMS

[Illustration: [Logo]]

BOSTON

LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY

1918

_Copyright, 1890, 1892, 1897, 1899, 1900, 1901, 1902, 1905, 1907, 1908,

1910, 1911_,

BY A. T. MAHAN.

_Copyright, 1918_,

BY ELLEN LYLE MAHAN.

_All rights reserved_

ALFRED THAYER MAHAN

In his volume of reminiscences, “From Sail to Steam,” Rear Admiral Mahan

gives us his father’s opinion and his own later judgment regarding his

choice of the navy as a life work. “My father told me he thought me less

fit for a military than for a civil profession, having watched me

carefully. I think myself now that he was right; for though I have no

cause to complain of unsuccess, I believe I should have done better

elsewhere.”[1]

The father, Dennis Hart Mahan, was a graduate of West Point, in later

life a distinguished professor of engineering at the Military Academy,

and thus well qualified to weigh his son’s character and the

requirements of a military career. The verdict of both father and son,

moreover, may appear borne out by the fact that, while the name of Mahan

is more widely known to-day than that of any other American naval

officer, his fame rests, not on his achievements as a ship or fleet

commander, but as a great naval historian and student of naval warfare.

Whatever the apparent wisdom of the choice at the time, it was in the

event fortunate both for himself and for the naval profession. His long

and varied service as an officer afloat and ashore gave him an

invaluable background for the study of naval history and international

affairs. On the other hand, his writings have brought home to every

maritime nation the importance of sea power, and have stimulated in his

own profession an interest in naval history and naval science which has

helped to keep it abreast the progress of the age. This direct bearing

of his professional experience upon his writings adds significance to

the details of his life in the navy.

Alfred Thayer Mahan entered the Naval Academy at Annapolis, Maryland,

September 30, 1856. Born at West Point, September 27, 1840, he was at

the time of his entrance but three days above sixteen. Like many another

candidate for the navy, he solicited his own appointment, obtaining it

finally through the influence of Jefferson Davis, who had studied under

his father at West Point, and was at this time Secretary of War. Having

attended Columbia College for two years preceding, the boy was

permitted—by a concession of which this is believed to be the only

instance in the annals of the Academy—to omit the first year’s work and

enter with the “Youngster” class, or “class of ’55 date,” according to

the nomenclature then used. Up to the year 1851 the midshipmen’s course

had consisted of five years at sea followed by one at the Academy. Mahan

entered in the autumn after the graduation of the last class under the

old scheme; and it was to the more mature, “sea-going” character of

former classes that he attributes the total absence of hazing in his

day. The practice was “not so much reprobated as ignored.” It came in

later, when the Academy was moved to Newport during the Civil War, and

“new ideals were evolved by a mass of schoolboys, severed from those

elder associates with the influence of whom no professors nor officers

can vie.”[2]

In the dusty files of Academy registers for that period one may read the

names of boys famous in later years. George Dewey was a class ahead of

Mahan; Schley and Sampson were respectively one class and two classes

behind. On graduation, Dewey stood fifth in a class of fifteen; Mahan

second in a class of twenty, with a record apparently very close to the

leader’s; and Sampson stood first. In his last year the future historian

was first in seamanship, physics, political science, and moral science,

third in naval tactics and gunnery, fourth in “steam engine,” and fifth

in astronomy and navigation. The year before he had excelled in physics,

rhetoric, and Spanish. The details are noteworthy chiefly as they show

the subjects of the old-time curriculum, in which so-called practical

branches were less predominant than they are to-day. Of Mahan’s class,

which numbered forty-nine at the time of entrance, twenty-nine had

dropped back or resigned before the end of the course.

After a cruise in South American waters in the old frigate _Congress_,

Mahan at once received his commission as lieutenant, August 31, 1861,

and soon afterward an appointment as second in command of the steam

corvette _Pocahontas_, then in the Potomac flotilla. It illustrates the

rapid promotion of those war-time days that each member of his class

received similar advancement in the first year of the war. In the

_Pocahontas_ he came under fire in the attack on Port Royal, and

afterward spent many weary months in blockade duty, first in the

_Pocahontas_ off the south Atlantic coast, and later in the _Seminole_

off Sabine Pass, Texas. This latter station, Mahan remarks, “was a

jumping-off place, the end of nowhere.” “Day after day we lay

inactive—roll, roll.” The monotony was broken by a pleasant eight months

at the Naval Academy in Newport and a “practice cruise” to England in

the _Macedonian_; and in the last year of the war he saw more varied

service on the staff of Rear Admiral Dahlgren, again on the Atlantic

coast blockade.

Commissioned lieutenant commander in 1865, Mahan passed the ensuing

twenty years in the customary routine of alternate sea and shore duty.

In 1867–1869, a long cruise in the steam frigate _Iroquois_ to Japan,

via Guadeloupe, Rio, Cape Town, Madagascar, Aden, and Bombay, gave

opportunity, unusual even in the navy, to see the world, and brought him

to Kobe in time to witness the opening of new treaty ports and the last

days of medieval Japan.

In 1885, when he had reached the rank of captain and was forty-five

years of age, he had yet had little opportunity to display the

distinctive talents which were to win him permanent fame. Partly,

perhaps, in consequence of a book by his pen entitled “The Gulf and

Inland Waters” and published two years before, but more likely as a

result of the shrewd estimate which naval officers form regarding their

fellows in the service, he was requested at this time to give a series

of lectures on naval history and tactics at the Naval War College, then

just established at Newport, Rhode Island. His acceptance of this duty

marks a turning point in his career.

The call reached him in the _Wachusett_ off the west coast of South

America. It was nearly two years later, in August, 1886, when he took up

his residence at the college, succeeding Rear Admiral Luce as president.

A change of political administration in the meantime had brought about a

less favorable policy toward this new departure in naval education, with

the result that, to quote Mahan again, the college “was reefed close

down, looking out for squalls at any moment from any quarter,” for the

next four or five years. It bears evidence to his tact and tenacity, and

it was not the least of his accomplishments for the navy, that he

piloted the institution safely through this crucial period, with scant

appropriations or none at all, in the face of a hostile Secretary of the

Navy and a lukewarm service.

After seven years devoted chiefly to the War College, Mahan went to sea

for the last time as commander of the cruiser _Chicago_ in the European

squadron. At this time “The Influence of Sea Power upon History” had

already been published, and the volume on the French Revolution and

Empire was nearly ready for the press. Upon requesting postponement of

sea duty until its completion, he was informed by his superior in the

Bureau of Navigation that it was “not the business of a naval officer to

write books.” The remark was narrow, for the naval or any other

profession would soon stagnate without the stimulus of free discussion

and study, which finds its best outlet through the press; and it showed

slight recognition of the immense value to the navy and the nation of

Mahan’s writings. Still it was well for the author that he made this

last cruise—his only experience with a ship of the new fleet. If the

importance of his first book was not realized at home—and it is stated

that he had great difficulty in finding a publisher—it was fully

recognized abroad. His arrival in England was taken as an opportunity to

pay a national tribute of appreciation, of which the degrees conferred

by both Oxford and Cambridge were but one expression. There is a

slightly humorous aspect to the competition of American universities to

award similar honors upon his return.

Retiring in 1896 after forty years of service, he was recalled to act as

a member of the Naval War Board from May 9, 1898, until the close of the

War with Spain. His fellow members were Rear Admiral Montgomery Sicard

and Captain A. S. Crowninshield. This board practically controlled the

naval strategy of the war. Of its deliberations and the relative

influence of its members we have no record; but the naval dispositions

were effective, and, aside from the location of the “Flying Squadron” at

Hampton Roads as a concession to the fears of coast cities, they are

fully approved by Mahan in his writings.

His choice a year later as one of the American delegates to the first

Peace Conference at The Hague was eminently fitting in view of his

thorough knowledge of international relations and the rules governing

naval warfare. In determining the attitude of the American delegation,

he took a strong stand against any agreement that would contract our

freedom of action with regard to the Monroe Doctrine, and against

immunity of private property at sea. The arguments against this latter

policy he afterward stated effectively in print[3] and in a memorandum

to the Navy Department. With the fulfillment of this duty, his public

services, aside from his work as a writer, came to a close.

In the navy, as in other walks of life, an incompatibility is often

assumed—and often unjustly—between mastery of theory and skill in

practice, between the thoughtful student and the capable man of action;

and there is no denying that among his contemporaries this assumption

was current with regard to Mahan. While a conclusion is difficult in

such a matter, the case may well rest on the following statement by a

friend and fellow officer: “Duty, in whatever form it came, was sacred.

Invariably he gave to its performance the best that was in him. That he

distinguished himself pre-eminently on shipboard cannot be claimed. Luck

or circumstances denied him the opportunity of doing things heroic, and

his modesty those purely spectacular. As a subordinate or as captain of

a single ship, what he did was well done. No further proof of his

qualities in this respect is needed than the fact that, at the outbreak

of the Civil War, when finishing his midshipman’s cruise, he was asked

by a shipmate, an officer who expected a command, to go with him as

‘first lieutenant.’ To his colleagues of the old navy this invitation

was the highest form of professional approval. The fates decreed that

the wider field should not be his wherein, as commander-in-chief of a

fleet in war time, he could have exhibited the mastery he surely

possessed of that art with which his name will forever be indissolubly

linked.”[4]

From the same source may be taken a passage of more intimate portrayal.

“In person Mahan was tall, spare, erect, with blue eyes, fair

complexion, hair and beard originally sandy. He respected the body as

the temple of his soul, and he paid it the homage of abstemious living,

of outdoor games and abundant exercise. In manner he was modest to

excess, dignified, courteous. Reticent in speech with people in general,

those who enjoyed the rare privilege of his intimacy knew him to be

possessed of a keen sense of humor and a fund of delightful anecdotes.

To such friends he was a most charming companion, so different from the

grave, self-contained philosopher he appeared to the rest and less

favored of his acquaintance. His home life was ideal.”

The lectures delivered at the Naval War College were the basis of “The

Influence of Sea Power upon History.” The author tells us how the

central idea came to him in the library of the English Club at Lima,

Peru, while reading Momsen’s “History of Rome.” “It suddenly struck

me ... how different things might have been could Hannibal have invaded

Italy by sea, as the Romans often had Africa, instead of by the long

land route.” A year later, when he returned to the United States, the

plan of the lectures was already formed: “I would investigate

coincidently the general history and the naval history of the past two

centuries with a view to demonstrating the influence of the events of

the one upon the other.” Written between May and September of 1886, and

delivered as lectures during the next four years, the book was carefully

revised before its publication in the spring of 1890.

This book exerted at the time, and has continued to exert, a widespread

influence; and while its author’s reputation has been increased by his

later writings, it remains his best known and greatest work. One reason

for this is that it states his fundamental teaching, and in a form easy

to grasp. The preface and the first chapter, which cover but eighty-nine

pages, survey rapidly the rise and decline of great sea powers and the

national characteristics affecting maritime development. The rest of the

book, treating in detail the period between 1660 and 1783, reinforces

the conclusions already stated.

Timeliness also contributed to its success. The book furnished

authoritative guidance in a period of transition and new departures in

international affairs. For nearly twenty years, under Bismarck, Germany

had been consolidating the empire established in 1871. When William II

ascended the throne in 1888, the ambitions of both ruler and nation were

already turned toward colonial expansion and world power. A German

Admiralty separate from the War Office was established in 1889;

Heligoland was secured a year later; the Kiel Canal was nearing

completion. In England, the Naval Defense Act of 1889 provided an

increase of seventy ships during the next four years. The rivals against

whom she measured her naval strength were still France and Russia. In

the United States, Congress in 1890 authorized three battleships, the

first vessels of this class to be added to the American navy. During the

following ten years the rivalry of nations was chiefly in commercial and

colonial aggrandisement, marked by the final downfall of Spain’s

colonial empire and a greatly increased importance attached to control

of the sea.

For the nations taking part in this expansion, Mahan was a kind of

gospel, furnishing texts for every discussion of naval policy. “After

his first book,” says a French writer, “and especially from 1895 on,

Mahan supplied the sound basis for all thought on naval and maritime

affairs; it was seen clearly that sea power was the principle which,

adhered to or departed from, would determine whether empires should

stand or fall.”[5]

To Great Britain in particular the book came as a timely analysis of the

means by which she had grown in wealth and dominion. This was indeed no

discovery. Nearly three centuries earlier Francis Bacon had written, “To

be master of the sea is an abridgment [epitome] of monarchy ... he that

commands the sea is at great liberty, and may take as much and as little

of the war as he will.”[6] Before and after Bacon, England had acted

upon this principle. But it remained for Mahan to give the thesis full

expression, to demonstrate it by concrete illustration, and to apply it

to modern conditions. “For the first time,” writes the British naval

historian, Sir Julian Corbett, “naval history was placed on a

philosophical basis. From the mass of facts which had hitherto done duty

for naval history, broad generalizations were possible. The ears of

statesmen and publicists were opened, and a new note began to sound in

world politics. Regarded as a political pamphlet in the higher sense—for

that is how the famous book is best characterized—it has few equals in

the sudden and far-reaching effect it produced on political thought and

action.”[7]

Germany was not slow to take to heart this interpretation of the vital

dependence of world empire on sea power. The Kaiser read the book,

annotated its pages, and placed copies in every ship of the German

fleet.[8] It was soon translated not only into German but into French,

Japanese, Russian, Italian, and Spanish. This and later works by the

same author were perhaps most diligently studied by officers of the

Japanese navy, then rising rapidly to the strength manifested in the

Russian war. “As far as known to myself,” writes Mahan, “more of my

works have been done into Japanese than into any other one tongue.”[9]

The debt of all students of naval warfare is well expressed by a noted

Italian officer and writer,—“Mahan, who is the great teacher of us

all.”[10]

What has been said of “The Influence of Sea Power upon History” applies

in varying degrees to the sixteen historical works and collections of

essays which appeared in the ensuing twenty-five years. While extending

the field covered by the earlier book, they maintained in general its

high qualities. The most important of these, “The Influence of Sea Power

upon the French Revolution and Empire,” covers the period from 1793 to

1812. This and the studies of the American Revolution and the War of

1812 form with his first book a continuous historical series from 1660

to 1815. The “Life of Nelson” and “Life of Farragut” are standard

professional biographies of these two commanders, who, if we accept

Mahan’s opinion, rank respectively first and second among naval leaders.

The best of his thought on contemporary naval warfare is gathered up in

his “Naval Strategy,” published in 1911. Based on lectures first

delivered in 1887, and afterward frequently expanded and modified to

meet changing conditions, this book, while invaluable to the

professional student, lacks something of the continuity and clearness of

structure of the historical works.

The authoritativeness of these writings, it may be repeated, was

strengthened by the author’s technical equipment and long years of

practical experience. Moreover, as Mr. Roosevelt has said, “Mahan was

the only great naval writer who also possessed the mind of a statesman

of the first class.”[11] His concern always was not merely with the

facts of history but with the “logic of events” and their lessons for

to-day.

Following his retirement, Admiral Mahan wrote more frequently and freely

on problems of the present and future. Of the subjects treated, some

were distinctly professional—the speed and size of battleships, the

size, composition, and disposition of fleets, modifications in the

international codes affecting naval warfare, naval events in

contemporary wars. Others entered the wider field of world politics,

voicing the author’s sincere belief in American colonial expansion and

active participation in world affairs, in the need of a navy sufficient

to make our influence felt, in the limitations as well as the usefulness

of arbitration, in the continuance of force as an important factor in

international relations.

In such discussions, he wrote without the slightest trace of jingoism or

sensation mongering; and it would be a fanatic advocate of immediate

disarmament and universal arbitration who would deny the steadying and

beneficent effect of his opposition, with its grip on realities and

steadfast respect for truth. Whatever he wrote was not only backed by

firm conviction but inspired by the highest ideals.

His style naturally varied somewhat with the audience and the theme. His

historical writings have been justly described as burdened with

qualifications, and marked by a laborious fullness of statement, which

strains the attention, while it adds weight and dignity to the

presentation. This in general is true of the histories; but there are

many passages in these where the subject inspires him to genuine

eloquence. In the “Life of Nelson” and “Types of Naval Officers” there

is little of the defect mentioned, and there are few more entertaining

volumes of naval reminiscence than “From Sail to Steam.” “The besetting

anxiety of my soul,” writes the author himself, “was to be exact and

lucid. I might not succeed, but my wish was indisputable. To be accurate

in facts and correct in conclusions, both as to application and

expression, dominated all other motives.”[12] One might dispense with

reams of “fine writing” for a page of prose guided by these standards.

On December 1, 1914, Rear Admiral Mahan died suddenly of heart failure.

A month before, he had left his home at Quogue, Long Island, and come to

Washington to pursue investigations for a history of American expansion

and its bearing on sea power. His death, occurring four months after the

outbreak of hostilities in Europe, was perhaps hastened by constant

study of the diplomatic and military events of the war, the approach of

which he had clearly foreseen, as well as America’s vital interest in

the Allied cause. It was unfortunate that his political and professional

wisdom should have been lost at that time.

His work, however, was largely accomplished. By his influence on both

public and professional opinion, by prevision and warm advocacy, he had

done much to further the execution of many important naval and national

policies. Among such may be mentioned the peace-time concentration of

fleets in preparation for war, the abandonment of a strictly defensive

naval policy, the systematic study of professional problems, the

strengthening of our position in the Caribbean, the fortification of

Panama. “His interest,” writes Mr. Roosevelt, “was in the larger side of

his subjects; he was more concerned with the strategy than with the

tactics of both naval war and statesmanship.” In this larger field his

writings will retain a value little affected by the lapse of time.

ALLAN WESTCOTT.

UNITED STATES NAVAL ACADEMY,

June, 1918.

CONTENTS

PAGE

INTRODUCTION v

PART I

NAVAL PRINCIPLES

1. THE VALUE OF HISTORICAL STUDY 3

2. “THEORETICAL” _versus_ “PRACTICAL” TRAINING 8

A Historical Instance 8

What is Practical? 10

3. ELEMENTS OF SEA POWER 16

4. DEFINITION OF TERMS: STRATEGY, TACTICS, LOGISTICS 49

5. FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES 50

Central Position, Interior Lines, Communications 50

Concentration 60

6. STRATEGIC POSITIONS 68

I. Situation 69

II. Military Strength 70

III. Resources 74

7. STRATEGIC LINES 75

Communications 75

Importance of Sea Communications 76

8. OFFENSIVE OPERATIONS 79

9. THE VALUE OF THE DEFENSIVE 87

10. COMMERCE-DESTROYING AND BLOCKADE 91

Command of the Sea Decisive 98

11. STRATEGIC FEATURES OF THE GULF OF MEXICO AND THE CARIBBEAN 100

12. PRINCIPLES OF NAVAL ADMINISTRATION 113

Opposing Elements 113

The British System 118

The United States System 122

13. THE MILITARY RULE OF OBEDIENCE 125

14. PREPAREDNESS FOR NAVAL WAR 128

PART II

SEA POWER IN HISTORY

15. A NATION EXHAUSTED BY ISOLATION 137

France under Louis XIV 137

16. THE GROWTH OF BRITISH SEA POWER 141

England after the Peace of Utrecht, 1715 141

17. RESULTS OF THE SEVEN YEARS’ WAR 147

18. EIGHTEENTH CENTURY FORMALISM IN NAVAL TACTICS 155

19. THE NEW TACTICS 159

Rodney and De Guichen, April 17, 1780 159

20. SEA POWER IN THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 164

Graves and De Grasse off the Chesapeake 164

21. THE FRENCH NAVY DEMORALIZED BY THE REVOLUTION 171

22. HOWE’S VICTORY OF JUNE 1, 1794 175

23. NELSON’S STRATEGY AT COPENHAGEN 184

24. ENGLAND’S FIRST LINE OF DEFENSE 191

25. THE BATTLE OF TRAFALGAR 196

“The Nelson Touch” 200

The Battle 208

Commerce Warfare after Trafalgar 223

26. GENERAL STRATEGY OF THE WAR OF 1812 229

Results of the Northern Campaign 235

27. LESSONS OF THE WAR WITH SPAIN 241

The Possibilities of a “Fleet in Being” 241

28. THE SANTIAGO BLOCKADE 250

29. “FLEET IN BEING” AND “FORTRESS FLEET” 256

The Port Arthur Squadron in the Russo-Japanese War 256

Divided Forces 269

30. ROZHESTVENSKY AT TSUSHIMA 276

PART III

NAVAL AND NATIONAL POLICIES

31. EXPANSION AND OVER-SEA BASES 285

The Annexation of Hawaii 285

32. APPLICATION OF THE MONROE DOCTRINE 288

Anglo-American Community of Interests 288

33. CHANGES IN THE UNITED STATES AND JAPAN 296

34. OUR INTERESTS IN THE PACIFIC 299

35. THE GERMAN STATE AND ITS MENACE 302

The Bulwark of British Sea Power 306

36. ADVANTAGES OF INSULAR POSITION 309

Great Britain and the Continental Powers 309

37. BEARING OF POLITICAL DEVELOPMENTS ON NAVAL POLICY AND

STRATEGY 317

38. SEIZURE OF PRIVATE PROPERTY AT SEA 328

39. THE MORAL ASPECT OF WAR 342

40. THE PRACTICAL ASPECT OF WAR 348

41. MOTIVES FOR NAVAL POWER 355

APPENDIX

CHRONOLOGICAL OUTLINE 359

ACADEMIC HONORS 360

PUBLISHED WORKS 361

UNCOLLECTED ESSAYS 362

REFERENCES 362

INDEX 365

LIST OF MAPS AND PLANS

PAGE

DIAGRAM ILLUSTRATING THE VALUE OF THE CENTRAL POSITION 54

GULF OF MEXICO AND CARIBBEAN SEA 101

RODNEY AND GUICHEN, APRIL 17, 1780 161

GRAVES AND DE GRASSE, SEPTEMBER 5, 1781 167

THE BALTIC AND ITS APPROACHES _Facing page_ 185

NORTH ATLANTIC OCEAN _Facing page_ 197

THE ATTACK AT TRAFALGAR 214

SCENE OF NAVAL WAR, JAPAN AND RUSSIA 278

PART I

NAVAL PRINCIPLES

MAHAN

ON NAVAL WARFARE

I. THE VALUE OF HISTORICAL STUDY[13]

The history of Sea Power is largely, though by no means solely, a

narrative of contests between nations, of mutual rivalries, of violence

frequently culminating in war. The profound influence of sea commerce

upon the wealth and strength of countries was clearly seen long before

the true principles which governed its growth and prosperity were

detected. To secure to one’s own people a disproportionate share of such

benefits, every effort was made to exclude others, either by the

peaceful legislative methods of monopoly or prohibitory regulations, or,

when these failed, by direct violence. The clash of interests, the angry

feelings roused by conflicting attempts thus to appropriate the larger

share, if not the whole, of the advantages of commerce, and of distant

unsettled commercial regions, led to wars. On the other hand, wars

arising from other causes have been greatly modified in their conduct

and issue by the control of the sea. Therefore the history of sea power,

while embracing in its broad sweep all that tends to make a people great

upon the sea or by the sea, is largely a military history; and it is in

this aspect that it will be mainly, though not exclusively, regarded in

the following pages.

A study of the military history of the past, such as this, is enjoined

by great military leaders as essential to correct ideas and to the

skillful conduct of war in the future. Napoleon names among the

campaigns to be studied by the aspiring soldier, those of Alexander,

Hannibal, and Cæsar, to whom gunpowder was unknown; and there is a

substantial agreement among professional writers that, while many of the

conditions of war vary from age to age with the progress of weapons,

there are certain teachings in the school of history which remain

constant, and being, therefore, of universal application, can be

elevated to the rank of general principles. For the same reason the

study of the sea history of the past will be found instructive, by its

illustration of the general principles of maritime war, notwithstanding

the great changes that have been brought about in naval weapons by the

scientific advances of the past half-century, and by the introduction of

steam as the motive power. [The pages omitted point out lessons to be

drawn from galley and sailing-ship warfare.—EDITOR.]

Before hostile armies or fleets are brought into con_tact_ (a word which

perhaps better than any other indicates the dividing line between

tactics and strategy), there are a number of questions to be decided,

covering the whole plan of operations throughout the theater of war.

Among these are the proper function of the navy in the war; its true

objective; the point or points upon which it should be concentrated; the

establishment of depots of coal and supplies; the maintenance of

communications between these depots and the home base; the military

value of commerce-destroying as a decisive or a secondary operation of

war; the system upon which commerce-destroying can be most efficiently

conducted, whether by scattered cruisers or by holding in force some

vital center through which commercial shipping must pass. All these are

strategic questions, and upon all these history has a great deal to say.

There has been of late a valuable discussion in English naval circles as

to the comparative merits of the policies of two great English admirals,

Lord Howe and Lord St. Vincent, in the disposition of the English navy

when at war with France. The question is purely strategic, and is not of

mere historical interest; it is of vital importance now, and the

principles upon which its decision rests are the same now as then. St.

Vincent’s policy saved England from invasion, and in the hands of Nelson

and his brother admirals led straight up to Trafalgar.

It is then particularly in the field of naval strategy that the

teachings of the past have a value which is in no degree lessened. They

are there useful not only as illustrative of principles, but also as

precedents, owing to the comparative permanence of the conditions. This

is less obviously true as to tactics, when the fleets come into

collision at the point to which strategic considerations have brought

them. The unresting progress of mankind causes continual change in the

weapons; and with that must come a continual change in the manner of

fighting,—in the handling and disposition of troops or ships on the

battlefield. Hence arises a tendency on the part of many connected with

maritime matters to think that no advantage is to be gained from the

study of former experiences; that time so used is wasted. This view,

though natural, not only leaves wholly out of sight those broad

strategic considerations which lead nations to put fleets afloat, which

direct the sphere of their action, and so have modified and will

continue to modify the history of the world, but is one-sided and narrow

even as to tactics. The battles of the past succeeded or failed

according as they were fought in conformity with the principles of war;

and the seaman who carefully studies the causes of success or failure

will not only detect and gradually assimilate these principles, but will

also acquire increased aptitude in applying them to the tactical use of

the ships and weapons of his own day. He will observe also that changes

of tactics have not only taken place _after_ changes in weapons, which

necessarily is the case, but that the interval between such changes has

been unduly long. This doubtless arises from the fact that an

improvement of weapons is due to the energy of one or two men, while

changes in tactics have to overcome the inertia of a conservative class;

but it is a great evil. It can be remedied only by a candid recognition

of each change, by careful study of the powers and limitations of the

new ship or weapon, and by a consequent adaptation of the method of

using it to the qualities it possesses, which will constitute its

tactics. History shows that it is vain to hope that military men

generally will be at the pains to do this, but that the one who does

will go into battle with a great advantage,—a lesson in itself of no

mean value.

2. “THEORETICAL” _versus_ “PRACTICAL” TRAINING[14].

_A Historical Instance_

There have long been two conflicting opinions as to the best way to fit

naval officers, and indeed all men called to active pursuits, for the

discharge of their duties. The one, of the so-called practical man,

would find in early beginning and constant remaining afloat _all_ that

is requisite; the other will find the best result in study, in elaborate

mental preparation. I have no hesitation in avowing that personally I

think that the United States Navy is erring on the latter side; but, be

that as it may, there seems little doubt that the mental activity which

exists so widely is not directed toward the management of ships in

battle, to the planning of naval campaigns, to the study of strategic

and tactical problems, nor even to the secondary matters connected with

the maintenance of warlike operations at sea.[15] Now we have had the

results of the two opinions as to the training of naval officers pretty

well tested by the experience of two great maritime nations, France and

England, each of which, not so much by formulated purpose as by national

bias, committed itself unduly to the one or the other. The results were

manifested in our War of Independence, which gave rise to the only

well-contested, widespread maritime war between nearly equal forces that

modern history records. There remains in my own mind no doubt, after

reading the naval history on both sides, that the English brought to

this struggle much superior seamanship, learned by the constant practice

of shipboard; while the French officers, most of whom had been debarred

from similar experience by the decadence of their navy in the middle of

the century, had devoted themselves to the careful study of their

profession. In short, what are commonly called the practical and the

theoretical man were pitted against each other, and the result showed

how mischievous is any plan which neglects either theory or practice, or

which ignores the fact that correct theoretical ideas are essential to

successful practical work. The practical seamanship and experience of

the English were continually foiled by the want of correct tactical

conceptions on the part of their own chiefs, and the superior science of

the French, acquired mainly by study. It is true that the latter were

guided by a false policy on the part of their government and a false

professional tradition. The navy, by its mobility, is pre-eminently

fitted for offensive war, and the French deliberately and constantly

subordinated it to defensive action. But, though the system was faulty,

they had a system; they had ideas; they had plans familiar to their

officers, while the English usually had none—and a poor system is better

than none at all....

_What is Practical?_

It was said to me by some one: “If you want to attract officers to the

College, give them something that will help them pass their next

examination.” But the test of war, when it comes, will be found a more

searching trial of what is in a man than the verdict of several amiable

gentlemen, disposed to give the benefit of every doubt. Then you will

encounter men straining every faculty and every means to injure you.

Shall we then, who prepare so anxiously for an examination, view as a

“practical” proceeding, worthy of “practical” men, the postponing to the

very moment of imperative action the consideration of _how_ to act,

_how_ to do our fighting, either in the broader domain of strategy, or

in the more limited field of tactics, whether of the single ship or of

the fleet? Navies exist for war; and the question presses for an answer:

“Is this neglect to master the experience of the past, to elicit,

formulate, and absorb its principles, is it _practical_?” Is it

“practical” to wait till the squall strikes you before shortening sail?

If the object and aim of the College is to promote such study, to

facilitate such results, to foster and disseminate such ideas, can it be

reproached that its purpose is not “practical,” even though at first its

methods be tentative and its results imperfect?

The word “practical” has suffered and been debased by a misapprehension

of that other word “theoretical,” to which it is accurately and

logically opposed. Theory is properly defined as a scheme of things

which _terminates in speculation, or contemplation_, without a view to

practice. The idea was amusingly expressed in the toast, said to have

been drunk at a meeting of mathematicians, “Eternal perdition to the man

who would degrade pure mathematics by applying it to any useful

purpose.” The word “theoretical,” therefore, is applied rightly and

legitimately only to mental processes that end in themselves, that have

no result in action; but by a natural, yet most unfortunate, confusion

of thought, it has come to be applied to all mental processes

whatsoever, whether fruitful or not, and has transferred its stigma to

them, while “practical” has walked off with all the honors of a

utilitarian age.

If therefore the line of thought, study and reflection, which the War

College seeks to promote, is really liable to the reproach that it leads

to no useful end, can result in no effective action, it falls justly

under the condemnation of being not “practical.” But it must be said

frankly and fearlessly that the man who is prepared to apply this stigma

to the line of the College effort must also be prepared to class as not

“practical” men like Napoleon, like his distinguished opponent, the

Austrian Archduke Charles, and like Jomini, the profuse writer on

military art and military history, whose works, if somewhat supplanted

by newer digests, have lost little or none of their prestige as a

profound study and exposition of the principles of warfare.

Jomini was not merely a military theorist, who saw war from the outside;

he was a distinguished and thoughtful soldier, in the prime of life

during the Napoleonic wars, and of a contemporary reputation such that,

when he deserted the cause of the emperor, he was taken at once into a

high position as a confidential adviser of the allied sovereigns. Yet

what does he say of strategy? Strategy is to him the queen of military

sciences; it underlies the fortunes of every campaign. As in a building,

which, however fair and beautiful the superstructure, is radically

marred and imperfect if the foundation be insecure—so, if the strategy

be wrong, the skill of the general on the battlefield, the valor of the

soldier, the brilliancy of victory, however otherwise decisive, fail of

their effect. Yet how does he define strategy, the effects of which, if

thus far-reaching, must surely be esteemed “practical”? “Strategy,” he

said, “is the art of making war upon the map. It precedes the operations

of the campaign, the clash of arms on the field. It is done in the

cabinet, it is the work of the student, with his dividers in his hand

and his information lying beside him.” In other words, it originates in

a mental process, but it does not end there; therefore it is practical.

Most of us have heard an anecdote of the great Napoleon, which is

nevertheless so apt to my purpose that I must risk the repetition.

Having had no time to verify my reference, I must quote from memory, but

of substantial accuracy I am sure. A few weeks before one of his early

and most decisive campaigns, his secretary, Bourrienne, entered the

office and found the First Consul, as he then was, stretched on the

floor with a large map before him. Pricked over the map, in what to

Bourrienne was confusion, were a number of red and black pins. After a

short silence the secretary, who was an old friend of school days, asked

him what it all meant. The Consul laughed goodnaturedly, called him a

fool, and said: “This set of pins represents the Austrians and this the

French. On such a day I shall leave Paris. My troops will then be in

such positions. On a certain day,” naming it, “I shall be here,”

pointing, “and my troops will have moved there. At such a time I shall

cross the mountains, a few days later my army will be here, the

Austrians will have done thus and so; and at a certain date I will beat

them here,” placing a pin. Bourrienne said nothing, perhaps he may have

thought the matter not “practical;” but a few weeks later, after the

battle (Marengo, I think) had been fought, he was seated with the

general in his military traveling carriage. The programme had been

carried out, and he recalled the incident to Bonaparte’s mind. The

latter himself smiled at the singular accuracy of his predictions in the

particular instance.

In the light of such an incident, the question I would like to pose will

receive of course but one answer. Was the work on which the general was

engaged in his private office, this work of a student, was it

“practical”? Or can it by any reasonable method be so divorced from what

followed, that the word “practical” only applies farther on. Did he only

begin to be practical when he got into his carriage to drive from the

Tuileries, or did the practical begin when he joined the army, or when

the first gun of the campaign was fired? Or, on the other hand, if he

had passed that time, given to studying the campaign, in arranging for a

new development of the material of war, and so had gone with his plans

undeveloped, would he not have done a thing very far from “practical”?

But we must push our inquiry a little farther back to get the full

significance of Bourrienne’s story. Whence came the facility and

precision with which Bonaparte planned the great campaign of Marengo?

Partly, unquestionably, from a native genius rarely paralleled; partly,

but not by any means wholly. Hear his own prescription: “If any man will

be a great general, let him study.” Study what? “Study history. Study

the campaigns of the great generals—Alexander, Hannibal, Cæsar” (who

never smelt gunpowder, nor dreamed of ironclads) “as well as those of

Turenne, Frederick, and myself, Napoleon.” Had Bonaparte entered his

cabinet to plan the campaign of Marengo, with no other preparation than

his genius, without the mental equipment and the ripened experience that

came from knowledge of the past, acquired by study, he would have come

unprepared. Were, then, his previous study and reflection, for which the

time of action had not come, were they not “practical,” because they did

not result in immediate action? Would they even have been “not

practical” if the time for action had never come to him?

As the wise man said, “There is a time for everything under the sun,”

and the time for one thing cannot be used as the time for another. That

there is time for action, all concede; few consider duly that there is

also a time for preparation. To use the time of preparation for

preparation is practical, whatever the method; to postpone preparation

to the time for action is not practical. Our new navy is preparing now;

it can scarcely be said, as regards its material, to be yet ready. The

day of grace is still with us—or with those who shall be the future

captains and admirals. There is time yet for study; there is time to

imbibe the experience of the past, to become imbued, steeped, in the

eternal principles of war, by the study of its history and of the maxims

of its masters. But the time of preparation will pass; some day the time

of action will come. Can an admiral then sit down and re-enforce his

intellectual grasp of the problem before him by a study of history,

which is simply a study of past experience? Not so; the time of action

is upon him, and he must trust to his horse sense.

3. ELEMENTS OF SEA POWER[16]

The first and most obvious light in which the sea presents itself from

the political and social point of view is that of a great highway; or

better, perhaps, of a wide common, over which men may pass in all

directions, but on which some well-worn paths show that controlling

reasons have led them to choose certain lines of travel rather than

others. These lines of travel are called trade routes; and the reasons

which have determined them are to be sought in the history of the world.

Notwithstanding all the familiar and unfamiliar dangers of the sea, both

travel and traffic by water have always been easier and cheaper than by

land. The commercial greatness of Holland was due not only to her

shipping at sea, but also to the numerous tranquil water-ways which gave

such cheap and easy access to her own interior and to that of Germany.

This advantage of carriage by water over that by land was yet more

marked in a period when roads were few and very bad, wars frequent and

society unsettled, as was the case two hundred years ago. Sea traffic

then went in peril of robbers, but was nevertheless safer and quicker

than that by land. A Dutch writer of that time, estimating the chances

of his country in a war with England, notices among other things that

the water-ways of England failed to penetrate the country sufficiently;

therefore, the roads being bad, goods from one part of the kingdom to

the other must go by sea, and be exposed to capture by the way. As

regards purely internal trade, this danger has generally disappeared at

the present day. In most civilized countries, now, the destruction or

disappearance of the coasting-trade would only be an inconvenience,

although water transit is still the cheaper. Nevertheless, as late as

the wars of the French Republic and the First Empire, those who are

familiar with the history of the period, and the light naval literature

that has grown up around it, know how constant is the mention of convoys

stealing from point to point along the French coast, although the sea

swarmed with English cruisers and there were good inland roads.

Under modern conditions, however, home trade is but a part of the

business of a country bordering on the sea. Foreign necessaries or

luxuries must be brought to its ports, either in its own or in foreign

ships, which will return, bearing in exchange the products of the

country, whether they be the fruits of the earth or the works of men’s

hands; and it is the wish of every nation that this shipping business

should be done by its own vessels. The ships that thus sail to and fro

must have secure ports to which to return, and must, as far as possible,

be followed by the protection of their country throughout the voyage.

This protection in time of war must be extended by armed shipping. The

necessity of a navy, in the restricted sense of the word, springs,

therefore, from the existence of a peaceful shipping, and disappears

with it,[17] except in the case of a nation which has aggressive

tendencies, and keeps up a navy merely as a branch of the military

establishment. As the United States has at present no aggressive

purposes, and as its merchant service has disappeared, the dwindling of

the armed fleet and general lack of interest in it are strictly logical

consequences. When for any reason sea trade is again found to pay, a

large enough shipping interest will reappear to compel the revival of

the war fleet. It is possible that when a canal route through the

Central-American Isthmus is seen to be a near certainty, the aggressive

impulse may be strong enough to lead to the same result. This is

doubtful, however, because a peaceful, gain-loving nation is not

far-sighted, and far-sightedness is needed for adequate military

preparation, especially in these days.

As a nation, with its unarmed and armed shipping, launches forth from

its own shores, the need is soon felt of points upon which the ships can

rely for peaceful trading, for refuge and supplies. In the present day

friendly, though foreign, ports are to be found all over the world; and

their shelter is enough while peace prevails. It was not always so, nor

does peace always endure, though the United States have been favored by

so long a continuance of it. In earlier times the merchant seaman,

seeking for trade in new and unexplored regions, made his gains at risk

of life and liberty from suspicious or hostile nations, and was under

great delays in collecting a full and profitable freight. He therefore

intuitively sought at the far end of his trade route one or more

stations, to be given to him by force or favor, where he could fix

himself or his agents in reasonable security, where his ships could lie

in safety, and where the merchantable products of the land could be

continually collecting, awaiting the arrival of the home fleet, which

should carry them to the mother-country. As there was immense gain, as

well as much risk, in these early voyages, such establishments naturally

multiplied and grew until they became colonies; whose ultimate

development and success depended upon the genius and policy of the

nation from which they sprang, and form a very great part of the

history, and particularly of the sea history, of the world. All colonies

had not the simple and natural birth and growth above described. Many

were more formal, and purely political, in their conception and

founding, the act of the rulers of the people rather than of private

individuals; but the trading-station with its after expansion, the work

simply of the adventurer seeking gain, was in its reasons and essence

the same as the elaborately organized and chartered colony. In both

cases the mother-country had won a foothold in a foreign land, seeking a

new outlet for what it had to sell, a new sphere for its shipping, more

employment for its people, more comfort and wealth for itself.

The needs of commerce, however, were not all provided for when safety

had been secured at the far end of the road. The voyages were long and

dangerous, the seas often beset with enemies. In the most active days of

colonizing there prevailed on the sea a lawlessness the very memory of

which is now almost lost, and the days of settled peace between maritime

nations were few and far between. Thus arose the demand for stations

along the road, like the Cape of Good Hope, St. Helena, and Mauritius,

not primarily for trade, but for defense and war; the demand for the

possession of posts like Gibraltar, Malta, Louisburg, at the entrance of

the Gulf of St. Lawrence,—posts whose value was chiefly strategic,

though not necessarily wholly so. Colonies and colonial posts were

sometimes commercial, sometimes military in their character; and it was

exceptional that the same position was equally important in both points

of view, as New York was.

In these three things—production, with the necessity of exchanging

products, shipping, whereby the exchange is carried on, and colonies,

which facilitate and enlarge the operations of shipping and tend to

protect it by multiplying points of safety—is to be found the key to

much of the history, as well as of the policy, of nations bordering upon

the sea. The policy has varied both with the spirit of the age and with

the character and clear-sightedness of the rulers; but the history of

the seaboard nations has been less determined by the shrewdness and

foresight of governments than by conditions of position, extent,

configuration, number and character of their people,—by what are called,

in a word, natural conditions. It must however be admitted, and will be

seen, that the wise or unwise action of individual men has at certain

periods had a great modifying influence upon the growth of sea power in

the broad sense, which includes not only the military strength afloat,

that rules the sea or any part of it by force of arms, but also the

peaceful commerce and shipping from which alone a military fleet

naturally and healthfully springs, and on which it securely rests.

The principal conditions affecting the sea power of nations may be

enumerated as follows: I. Geographical Position. II. Physical

Conformation, including, as connected therewith, natural productions and

climate. III. Extent of Territory. IV. Number of Population. V.

Character of the People. VI. Character of the Government, including

therein the national institutions.

I. _Geographical Position._—It may be pointed out, in the first place,

that if a nation be so situated that it is neither forced to defend

itself by land nor induced to seek extension of its territory by way of

the land, it has, by the very unity of its aim directed upon the sea, an

advantage as compared with a people one of whose boundaries is

continental. This has been a great advantage to England over both France

and Holland as a sea power. The strength of the latter was early

exhausted by the necessity of keeping up a large army and carrying on

expensive wars to preserve her independence; while the policy of France

was constantly diverted, sometimes wisely and sometimes most foolishly,

from the sea to projects of continental extension. These military

efforts expended wealth; whereas a wiser and consistent use of her

geographical position would have added to it.

The geographical position may be such as of itself to promote a

concentration, or to necessitate a dispersion, of the naval forces. Here

again the British Islands have an advantage over France. The position of

the latter, touching the Mediterranean as well as the ocean, while it

has its advantages, is on the whole a source of military weakness at

sea. The eastern and western French fleets have only been able to unite

after passing through the Straits of Gibraltar, in attempting which they

have often risked and sometimes suffered loss. The position of the

United States upon the two oceans would be either a source of great

weakness or a cause of enormous expense, had it a large sea commerce on

both coasts.[18]

England, by her immense colonial empire, has sacrificed much of this

advantage of concentration of force around her own shores; but the

sacrifice was wisely made, for the gain was greater than the loss, as

the event proved. With the growth of her colonial system her war fleets

also grew, but her merchant shipping and wealth grew yet faster. Still,

in the wars of the American Revolution, and of the French Republic and

Empire, to use the strong expression of a French author, “England,

despite the immense development of her navy, seemed ever, in the midst

of riches, to feel all the embarrassment of poverty.” The might of

England was sufficient to keep alive the heart and the members; whereas

the equally extensive colonial empire of Spain, through her maritime

weakness, but offered so many points for insult and injury.

The geographical position of a country may not only favor the

concentration of its forces, but give the further strategic advantage of

a central position and a good base for hostile operations against its

probable enemies. This again is the case with England; on the one hand

she faces Holland and the northern powers, on the other France and the

Atlantic. When threatened with a coalition between France and the naval

powers of the North Sea and the Baltic, as she at times was, her fleets

in the Downs and in the Channel, and even that off Brest, occupied

interior positions, and thus were readily able to interpose their united

force against either one of the enemies which should seek to pass

through the Channel to effect a junction with its ally. On either side,

also, Nature gave her better ports and a safer coast to approach.

Formerly this was a very serious element in the passage through the

Channel; but of late, steam and the improvement of her harbors have

lessened the disadvantage under which France once labored. In the days

of sailing-ships, the English fleet operated against Brest, making its

base at Torbay and Plymouth. The plan was simply this: in easterly or

moderate weather the blockading fleet kept its position without

difficulty; but in westerly gales, when too severe, they bore up for

English ports, knowing that the French fleet could not get out till the

wind shifted, which equally served to bring them back to their station.

The advantage of geographical nearness to an enemy, or to the object of

attack, is nowhere more apparent than in that form of warfare which has

lately received the name of commerce-destroying, which the French call

_guerre de course_. This operation of war, being directed against

peaceful merchant vessels which are usually defenseless, calls for ships

of small military force. Such ships, having little power to defend

themselves, need a refuge or point of support near at hand; which will

be found either in certain parts of the sea controlled by the fighting

ships of their country, or in friendly harbors. The latter give the

strongest support, because they are always in the same place, and the

approaches to them are more familiar to the commerce-destroyer than to

his enemy. The nearness of France to England has thus greatly

facilitated her _guerre de course_ directed against the latter. Having

ports on the North Sea, on the Channel, and on the Atlantic, her

cruisers started from points near the focus of English trade, both

coming and going. The distance of these ports from each other,

disadvantageous for regular military combinations, is an advantage for

this irregular secondary operation; for the essence of the one is

concentration of effort, whereas for commerce-destroying diffusion of

effort is the rule. Commerce destroyers scatter, that they may see and

seize more prey. These truths receive illustration from the history of

the great French privateers, whose bases and scenes of action were

largely on the Channel and North Sea, or else were found in distant

colonial regions, where islands like Guadeloupe and Martinique afforded

similar near refuge. The necessity of renewing coal makes the cruiser of

the present day even more dependent than of old on his port. Public

opinion in the United States has great faith in war directed against an

enemy’s commerce; but it must be remembered that the Republic has no

ports very near the great centers of trade abroad. Her geographical

position is therefore singularly disadvantageous for carrying on

successful commerce-destroying, unless she find bases in the ports of an

ally.

If, in addition to facility for offense, Nature has so placed a country

that it has easy access to the high sea itself, while at the same time

it controls one of the great thoroughfares of the world’s traffic, it is

evident that the strategic value of its position is very high. Such

again is, and to a greater degree was, the position of England. The

trade of Holland, Sweden, Russia, Denmark, and that which went up the

great rivers to the interior of Germany, had to pass through the Channel

close by her doors; for sailing-ships hugged the English coast. This

northern trade had, moreover, a peculiar bearing upon sea power; for

naval stores, as they are commonly called, were mainly drawn from the

Baltic countries.

But for the loss of Gibraltar, the position of Spain would have been

closely analogous to that of England. Looking at once upon the Atlantic

and the Mediterranean, with Cadiz on the one side and Cartagena on the

other, the trade to the Levant must have passed under her hands, and

that round the Cape of Good Hope not far from her doors. But Gibraltar

not only deprived her of the control of the Straits, it also imposed an

obstacle to the easy junction of the two divisions of her fleet.

At the present day, looking only at the geographical position of Italy,

and not at the other conditions affecting her sea power, it would seem

that with her extensive sea-coast and good ports she is very well placed

for exerting a decisive influence on the trade route to the Levant and

by the Isthmus of Suez. This is true in a degree, and would be much more

so did Italy now hold all the islands naturally Italian; but with Malta

in the hands of England, and Corsica in those of France, the advantages

of her geographical position are largely neutralized. From race

affinities and situation those two islands are as legitimately objects

of desire to Italy as Gibraltar is to Spain. If the Adriatic were a

great highway of commerce, Italy’s position would be still more

influential. These defects in her geographical completeness, combined

with other causes injurious to a full and secure development of sea

power, make it more than doubtful whether Italy can for some time be in

the front rank among the sea nations.

As the aim here is not an exhaustive discussion, but merely an attempt

to show, by illustration, how vitally the situation of a country may

affect its career upon the sea, this division of the subject may be

dismissed for the present; the more so as instances which will further

bring out its importance will continually recur in the historical

treatment. Two remarks, however, are here appropriate.

Circumstances have caused the Mediterranean Sea to play a greater part

in the history of the world, both in a commercial and a military point

of view, than any other sheet of water of the same size. Nation after

nation has striven to control it, and the strife still goes on.

Therefore a study of the conditions upon which preponderance in its

waters has rested, and now rests, and of the relative military values of

different points upon its coasts, will be more instructive than the same

amount of effort expended in another field. Furthermore, it has at the

present time a very marked analogy in many respects to the Caribbean

Sea,—an analogy which will be still closer if a Panama canal route ever

be completed. A study of the strategic conditions of the Mediterranean,

which have received ample illustration, will be an excellent prelude to

a similar study of the Caribbean, which has comparatively little

history.

The second remark bears upon the geographical position of the United

States relatively to a Central-American canal. If one be made, and

fulfil the hopes of its builders, the Caribbean will be changed from a

terminus, and place of local traffic, or at best a broken and imperfect

line of travel, as it now is, into one of the great highways of the

world. Along this path a great commerce will travel, bringing the

interests of the other great nations, the European nations, close along

our shores, as they have never been before. With this it will not be so

easy as heretofore to stand aloof from international complications. The

position of the United States with reference to this route will resemble

that of England to the Channel, and of the Mediterranean countries to

the Suez route. As regards influence and control over it, depending upon

geographical position, it is of course plain that the center of the

national power, the permanent base,[19] is much nearer than that of

other great nations. The positions now or hereafter occupied by them on

island or mainland, however strong, will be but outposts of their power;

while in all the raw materials of military strength no nation is

superior to the United States. She is, however, weak in a confessed

unpreparedness for war; and her geographical nearness to the point of

contention loses some of its value by the character of the Gulf coast,

which is deficient in ports combining security from an enemy with

facility for repairing warships of the first class, without which ships

no country can pretend to control any part of the sea. In case of a

contest for supremacy in the Caribbean, it seems evident from the depth

of the South Pass of the Mississippi, the nearness of New Orleans, and

the advantages of the Mississippi Valley for water transit, that the

main effort of the country must pour down that valley, and its permanent

base of operations be found there. The defense of the entrance to the

Mississippi, however, presents peculiar difficulties; while the only two

rival ports, Key West and Pensacola, have too little depth of water, and

are much less advantageously placed with reference to the resources of

the country. To get the full benefit of superior geographical position,

these defects must be overcome. Furthermore, as her distance from the

Isthmus, though relatively less, is still considerable, the United

States will have to obtain in the Caribbean stations fit for contingent,

or secondary, bases of operations; which by their natural advantages,

susceptibility of defense, and nearness to the central strategic issue,

will enable her fleets to remain as near the scene as any opponent. With

ingress and egress from the Mississippi sufficiently protected, with

such outposts in her hands, and with the communications between them and

the home base secured, in short, with proper military preparation, for

which she has all necessary means, the preponderance of the United

States on this field follows, from her geographical position and her

power, with mathematical certainty.

II. _Physical Conformation._—The peculiar features of the Gulf coast,

alluded to, come properly under the head of Physical Conformation of a

country, which is placed second for discussion among the conditions

which affect the development of sea power.

The seaboard of a country is one of its frontiers; and the easier the

access offered by the frontier to the region beyond, in this case the

sea, the greater will be the tendency of a people toward intercourse

with the rest of the world by it. If a country be imagined having a long

seaboard, but entirely without a harbor, such a country can have no sea

trade of its own, no shipping, no navy. This was practically the case

with Belgium when it was a Spanish and an Austrian province. The Dutch,

in 1648, as a condition of peace after a successful war, exacted that

the Scheldt should be closed to sea commerce. This closed the harbor of

Antwerp and transferred the sea trade of Belgium to Holland. The Spanish

Netherlands ceased to be a sea power.

Numerous and deep harbors are a source of strength and wealth, and

doubly so if they are the outlets of navigable streams, which facilitate

the concentration in them of a country’s internal trade; but by their

very accessibility they become a source of weakness in war, if not

properly defended. The Dutch in 1667 found little difficulty in

ascending the Thames and burning a large fraction of the English navy

within sight of London; whereas a few years later the combined fleets of

England and France, when attempting a landing in Holland, were foiled by

the difficulties of the coast as much as by the valor of the Dutch

fleet. In 1778 the harbor of New York, and with it undisputed control of

the Hudson River, would have been lost to the English, who were caught

at disadvantage, but for the hesitancy of the French admiral. With that

control, New England would have been restored to close and safe

communication with New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania; and this

blow, following so closely on Burgoyne’s disaster of the year before,

would probably have led the English to make an earlier peace. The

Mississippi is a mighty source of wealth and strength to the United

States; but the feeble defenses of its mouth and the number of its

subsidiary streams penetrating the country made it a weakness and source

of disaster to the Southern Confederacy. And lastly, in 1814, the

occupation of the Chesapeake and the destruction of Washington gave a

sharp lesson of the dangers incurred through the noblest water-ways, if

their approaches be undefended; a lesson recent enough to be easily

recalled, but which, from the present appearance of the coast defenses,

seems to be yet more easily forgotten. Nor should it be thought that

conditions have changed; circumstances and details of offense and

defense have been modified, in these days as before, but the great

conditions remain the same.

Before and during the great Napoleonic wars, France had no port for

ships-of-the-line east of Brest. How great the advantage to England,

which in the same stretch has two great arsenals, at Plymouth and at

Portsmouth, besides other harbors of refuge and supply. This defect of

conformation has since been remedied by the works at Cherbourg.

Besides the contour of the coast, involving easy access to the sea,

there are other physical conditions which lead people to the sea or turn

them from it. Although France was deficient in military ports on the

Channel, she had both there and on the ocean, as well as in the

Mediterranean, excellent harbors, favorably situated for trade abroad,

and at the outlet of large rivers, which would foster internal traffic.

But when Richelieu had put an end to civil war, Frenchmen did not take

to the sea with the eagerness and success of the English and Dutch. A

principal reason for this has been plausibly found in the physical

conditions which have made France a pleasant land, with a delightful

climate, producing within itself more than its people needed. England,

on the other hand, received from Nature but little, and, until her

manufactures were developed, had little to export. Their many wants,

combined with their restless activity and other conditions that favored

maritime enterprise, led her people abroad; and they there found lands

more pleasant and richer than their own. Their needs and genius made

them merchants and colonists, then manufacturers and producers; and

between products and colonies shipping is the inevitable link. So their

sea power grew. But if England was drawn to the sea, Holland was driven

to it; without the sea England languished, but Holland died. In the

height of her greatness, when she was one of the chief factors in

European politics, a competent native authority estimated that the soil

of Holland could not support more than one eighth of her inhabitants.

The manufactures of the country were then numerous and important, but

they had been much later in their growth than the shipping interest. The

poverty of the soil and the exposed nature of the coast drove the Dutch

first to fishing. Then the discovery of the process of curing the fish

gave them material for export as well as home consumption, and so laid

the corner-stone of their wealth. Thus they had become traders at the

time that the Italian republics, under the pressure of Turkish power and

the discovery of the passage round the Cape of Good Hope, were beginning

to decline, and they fell heirs to the great Italian trade of the

Levant. Further favored by their geographical position, intermediate

between the Baltic, France, and the Mediterranean, and at the mouth of

the German rivers, they quickly absorbed nearly all the carrying-trade

of Europe. The wheat and naval stores of the Baltic, the trade of Spain

with her colonies in the New World, the wines of France, and the French

coasting-trade were, little more than two hundred years ago, transported

in Dutch shipping. Much of the carrying-trade of England, even, was then

done in Dutch bottoms. It will not be pretended that all this prosperity

proceeded only from the poverty of Holland’s natural resources.

Something does not grow from nothing. What is true, is, that by the

necessitous condition of her people they were driven to the sea, and

were, from their mastery of the shipping business and the size of their

fleets, in a position to profit by the sudden expansion of commerce and

the spirit of exploration which followed on the discovery of America and

of the passage round the Cape. Other causes concurred, but their whole

prosperity stood on the sea power to which their poverty gave birth.

Their food, their clothing, the raw material for their manufactures, the

very timber and hemp with which they built and rigged their ships (and

they built nearly as many as all Europe besides), were imported; and

when a disastrous war with England in 1653 and 1654 had lasted eighteen

months, and their shipping business was stopped, it is said “the sources

of revenue which had always maintained the riches of the State, such as

fisheries and commerce, were almost dry. Workshops were closed, work was

suspended. The Zuyder Zee became a forest of masts; the country was full

of beggars; grass grew in the streets, and in Amsterdam fifteen hundred

houses were untenanted.” A humiliating peace alone saved them from ruin.

This sorrowful result shows the weakness of a country depending wholly

upon sources external to itself for the part it is playing in the world.

With large deductions, owing to differences of conditions which need not

here be spoken of, the case of Holland then has strong points of

resemblance to that of Great Britain now; and they are true prophets,

though they seem to be having small honor in their own country, who warn

her that the continuance of her prosperity at home depends primarily

upon maintaining her power abroad. Men may be discontented at the lack

of political privilege; they will be yet more uneasy if they come to

lack bread. It is of more interest to Americans to note that the result

to France, regarded as a power of the sea, caused by the extent,

delightfulness, and richness of the land, has been reproduced in the

United States. In the beginning, their forefathers held a narrow strip

of land upon the sea, fertile in parts though little developed,

abounding in harbors and near rich fishing grounds. These physical

conditions combined with an inborn love of the sea, the pulse of that

English blood which still beat in their veins, to keep alive all those

tendencies and pursuits upon which a healthy sea power depends. Almost

every one of the original colonies was on the sea or on one of its great

tributaries. All export and import tended toward one coast. Interest in

the sea and an intelligent appreciation of the part it played in the

public welfare were easily and widely spread; and a motive more

influential than care for the public interest was also active, for the

abundance of ship-building materials and a relative fewness of other

investments made shipping a profitable private interest. How changed the

present condition is, all know. The center of power is no longer on the

seaboard. Books and newspapers vie with one another in describing the

wonderful growth, and the still undeveloped riches, of the interior.

Capital there finds its best investments, labor its largest

opportunities. The frontiers are neglected and politically weak; the

Gulf and Pacific coasts actually so, the Atlantic coast relatively to

the central Mississippi Valley. When the day comes that shipping again

pays, when the three sea frontiers find that they are not only

militarily weak, but poorer for lack of national shipping, their united

efforts may avail to lay again the foundations of our sea power. Till

then, those who follow the limitations which lack of sea power placed

upon the career of France may mourn that their own country is being led,

by a like redundancy of home wealth, into the same neglect of that great

instrument.

Among modifying physical conditions may be noted a form like that of

Italy,—a long peninsula, with a central range of mountains dividing it

into two narrow strips, along which the roads connecting the different

ports necessarily run. Only an absolute control of the sea can wholly

secure such communications, since it is impossible to know at what point

an enemy coming from beyond the visible horizon may strike; but still,

with an adequate naval force centrally posted, there will be good hope

of attacking his fleet, which is at once his base and line of

communications, before serious damage has been done. The long, narrow

peninsula of Florida, with Key West at its extremity, though flat and

thinly populated, presents at first sight conditions like those of

Italy. The resemblance may be only superficial, but it seems probable

that if the chief scene of a naval war were the Gulf of Mexico, the

communications by land to the end of the peninsula might be a matter of

consequence, and open to attack.

When the sea not only borders, or surrounds, but also separates a

country into two or more parts, the control of it becomes not only

desirable, but vitally necessary. Such a physical condition either gives

birth and strength to sea power, or makes the country powerless. Such is

the condition of the present kingdom of Italy, with its islands of

Sardinia and Sicily; and hence in its youth and still existing financial

weakness it is seen to put forth such vigorous and intelligent efforts

to create a military navy. It has even been argued that, with a navy

decidedly superior to her enemy’s, Italy could better base her power

upon her islands than upon her mainland; for the insecurity of the lines

of communication in the peninsula, already pointed out, would most

seriously embarrass an invading army surrounded by a hostile people and

threatened from the sea.

The Irish Sea, separating the British Islands, rather resembles an

estuary than an actual division; but history has shown the danger from

it to the United Kingdom. In the days of Louis XIV, when the French navy

nearly equalled the combined English and Dutch, the gravest

complications existed in Ireland, which passed almost wholly under the

control of the natives and the French. Nevertheless, the Irish Sea was

rather a danger to the English—a weak point in their communications—than

an advantage to the French. The latter did not venture their

ships-of-the-line in its narrow waters, and expeditions intending to

land were directed upon the ocean ports in the south and west. At the

supreme moment the great French fleet was sent upon the south coast of

England, where it decisively defeated the allies, and at the same time

twenty-five frigates were sent to St. George’s Channel, against the

English communications. In the midst of a hostile people, the English

army in Ireland was seriously imperiled, but was saved by the battle of

the Boyne and flight of James II. This movement against the enemy’s

communications was strictly strategic, and would be as dangerous to

England now as in 1690.

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.

[Illustration: [Map]]

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....