Addington was swept out of office; and Pitt came in again. He

brought in a bill to form a new army of Reserve, which was an utter

failure; and he then fell back on the old expedient of offering

a bounty to Militiamen to enlist in the Regulars. In this way,

which was faithfully followed until the close of the war in 1814,

he raised some semblance of an Army; but he did not know how to

use it, and he died in January, 1806, thinking the cause of Europe

hopeless. A Ministry which included most of the ablest men in

England was formed upon his death; and they introduced an Act for

national training to arms, excellent in principle but not properly

worked out in detail, and abolished the Volunteers. This was a step

in the right direction, but was taken too late. The Ministry of All

the Talents, as it was called, resigned early in 1807; and then at

last the War Office passed into the hands of a capable man, Lord

Castlereagh. He began by taking forty thousand men from the Militia

into the Regular Army, and raising as many--by extremely drastic

methods--to refill the empty ranks of the Militia. He then devised

a scheme which unfortunately was not enforced, for making national

training a reality; and finally he established a new Militia called

the Local Militia of two hundred thousand men for home defence,

keeping the old Militia to furnish recruits for the Regular Army.

Thus for the first time in our history there was a Regular Army

of from forty to fifty thousand men, fit to go anywhere and do

anything, together with the means of refilling their ranks as fast

as they were depleted by active service.

The number was small but, properly employed, it could be of great

use. In 1807 Napoleon had shamelessly and treacherously invaded

Spain and Portugal. In 1808 the people of both countries rose

against the invaders, and England's one army was sent to support

them. I told you in my first lecture that a campaign was like a

picnic; but our European campaigns of any importance had hitherto

been confined to the cockpits, where food was abundant and wars

so frequent that contractors could always be found to look to

the food-supply. The Peninsula is a very different country,

comprehending a few fertile districts only together with a vast

deal of barren mountain--a country, according to a well-known

saying, where small armies were beaten and large armies were

starved. The French armies in Spain were large armies, amounting

to three hundred thousand men, and the Spanish troops, badly led

and badly organised, could make no stand against them. How could

the British hope with forty thousand men or less to combat three

hundred thousand? In this way. The population of the Peninsula was

so bitterly hostile to the invaders that the French could not be

said to have any hold of the country, except of such part of it as

was actually occupied by their soldiers. It was therefore to the

interest of the French, in order to feed their troops as well as to

hold down the Spaniards, that their armies should be scattered as

much as possible. The very wise and sagacious soldier, Sir Arthur

Wellesley, who was charged with the command of our army, reasoned

as follows. We have a port of entry and a base of operations at

Lisbon, to which we can send by sea everything that we want. Being

also masters at sea we can prevent the French from making any use

of it; and they must bring into Spain by land everything that

they want. The roads are very bad, so that this in itself will

be a heavy task; and there are so many dangerous defiles to be

passed that the Spaniards may always lie in wait to capture French

convoys. There is one great advantage for us.

Now as long as we have forty thousand men at Lisbon, the French

must always keep rather more in a compact body to watch us, which

means that they must collect fifty or sixty thousand men together

instead of leaving them dispersed to hold the country down; which

means in its turn that so long as I remain in their front, there

must be Spaniards unsubdued and ready to do mischief to their

outlying posts and scattered detachments in their rear. Very well.

But what if the French assemble a very large force, and try to

overwhelm me once for all? They cannot take a very large force by

any one route, because they live on the country and the country

will not support them; but if they bring sixty thousand against

my forty thousand, I can stop them. Twenty-five miles north of

Lisbon is ground that can be made so strong that even Portuguese

Militia could hold it, under good leadership, especially with my

army to back them. Moreover the Portuguese have an ancient law

that provides for the desertion of all villages, the driving off

of all cattle, and the removal of all grain--in fact the laying

waste of their country--before an invader. If then the French

advance against me in Portugal, I shall retire before them to my

fortified lines, leaving the country a waste behind me. If they

attack me, all the better. I shall beat them. If they sit down in

front of me, I have no objection. I shall have all the resources

of the world behind me at Lisbon, while they will only have a

devastated wilderness behind them. They may wait for a time, but

they will have to send their troops further and further afield to

scrape together food, and the peasants will cut the throats of all

stragglers. Sickness will increase among their soldiers for want

of proper nourishment; their numbers will fall lower and lower and

lower; and at last sheer starvation will compel them to retreat.

And now, mark how I shall get the better of them. I shall provide

my army with the means of carrying victuals with it. The task

will be extraordinarily difficult, for the country is rough and

the roads so infamous that we cannot use wheeled vehicles; but I

shall organise a vast train of twelve to fifteen thousand mules to

carry everything that we want on their backs. The French, a body

of starving men, will have to hurry their retreat, for they have

to pass through a devastated country. We, with our bellies full,

shall be able to follow them up and cut off thousands of weakly

dispirited men. In time they will reach the fortresses which they

hold on the Spanish frontier, and there we must stop, while they

go back still further to some fertile district where they will

find provisions. But their army will be absolutely ruined for the

time, weakened by its losses and demoralised by its sufferings.

As I advance I shall establish magazines along the route so that

I may keep my army fed, and threaten their fortresses. They will

be obliged to revictual these fortresses from time to time, and to

do so in presence of my army they will have to collect once more

fifty or sixty thousand men, and leave the country behind them to

the mercy of the Spanish guerilla bands. If I can stop them by

fighting a general action in a strong position with good hope of

success, I shall do so. If I cannot, I shall fall back once more,

burning or emptying my magazines, to play the same game again.

But the oftener I lead them over the same country, the more it

will be exhausted. Their system of living on the country is very

wasteful. The brutality of their starving soldiers to the peasantry

is driving more and more land out of cultivation; and the time will

come when they will be unable to assemble their troops except at

harvest, but will be obliged to keep them dispersed all through

the winter in order to keep them alive. It will take them three or

four weeks to collect, with enormous difficulty, food and transport

enough for even a fortnight's campaign, and I shall use those

three or four weeks to make a swift and sudden attack upon their

fortresses; for having the means of feeding my troops, I can do so.

They will be obliged to look on helplessly until I have taken the

strong places; and, when at last they advance, they will be unable

to retake them, until they have driven me back; and I shall only

retire until they have exhausted their provisions, and shall then

advance again.

From these fortresses I shall penetrate into Spain to threaten

other fortresses, rousing the whole country more than ever against

the French; until at last I compel them to loose their hold upon

the south of Spain, and concentrate a really gigantic force

against me. I shall then retreat as before to Portugal. They will

be unable to keep their gigantic force for long together from

want of food; and I shall begin the whole game all over again;

while their men waste away by tens of thousands from fatigue and

hardship and incessant petty attacks of the Spanish guerillas. It

is only a question of time before Napoleon is distracted by serious

operations outside Spain; when once he begins to reduce his army in

the Peninsula, we shall gradually drive it into France; and then

we shall see how long Frenchmen will allow it to live on their own

country as it has lived on Spain. I for my part shall follow it

up, paying punctually for everything that I take, and allowing no

plunder; and we shall see which army gets on the better.

There in a nutshell is the history of the Peninsular War. Does it

not sound simple after the event? But think of the sagacity and

insight of the man who perceived all these possibilities before

the event; and of the courage and force of character which enabled

him to carry his policy into effect. Patience, the great attribute

of Marlborough, was the quality which shone above all others in

Wellington. And remember that he had to subdue not only himself to

patience, but his army, and the British nation, and the Spanish

nation and the Portuguese nation. Following his difficulties

through his correspondence one marvels how ever he overcame them.

The British Government, let people say what they will, supported

him well in the face of great obstacles and in the teeth of bitter

resistance from an unscrupulous Opposition; but they gained greatly

from Wellington's moral support. Spain and Portugal had practically

no government, and such authority as existed was to a great extent

distributed among fools and knaves. In truth Wellington really

administered the government of Portugal for four years, besides

commanding the British and Portuguese armies in the field. Never

allow yourselves to be abridged of your pride in Wellington by

petty detractors, British or foreign. German and French writers,

for some strange reason, unite to decry him as a commander. Do

not listen to them. Not one of them knows anything of any of his

campaigns except that of Waterloo. He was a very great commander in

every way, and beyond all doubt (at least such is my opinion) the

very greatest of his time upon the actual field of battle. He was

not a genial character. He had none of Marlborough's irresistible

charm, which made even the privates call him Corporal John. He

was never loved by man nor woman, nor by any but children not his

own. By self-imposed discipline--as I believe--rather than by

nature he was cold, hard, unsympathetic, and inclined to account

the individual man as nothing in comparison with the sanctity of a

principle. Hence he broke the heart of more than one good officer

who had served him well. But he was incapable of anything common

or mean; he was as hard to himself as to the humblest of his

subordinates; and his conception of duty to Sovereign and Country

was so high, and at the same time so spontaneous and natural, that

his must always remain the standard by which our public men will

be measured. No! if any one ever presumes to hint to you that

Wellington was not a great man, you may ask him if a small man

could constrain three nations for four years to patience, and raise

the standard of public duty for ever in his own country. This is

the centenary of his greatest campaign and most brilliant military

achievement; but long after they an forgotten men will repeat his

saying "The King's Government must be carried on."

After the twenty-three years of fighting concluded at Waterloo

people imagined that wars would cease. There was much social and

commercial distress in England; and as usual the British mind

fastened itself upon the reduction of the Army as the remedy

for all evils. There arose also a political sect which preached

the inimitably absurd doctrine that Free Trade would bring about

universal peace. The military and naval establishments were cut

down to a dangerously low figure; and all the organisation, which

Wellington had created for the feeding of an army, was allowed to

decay. At last in 1854 came the war in the Crimea; and there was a

repetition of all that had happened in 1792. A small number of very

fine regiments was with difficulty scraped together, and sent to

the East with no very definite idea as to what they should do, and

therefore necessarily without preparation of any kind. Eventually

the troops were landed in the Crimea and marched upon Sevastopol.

They fought a few magnificent actions, and perished of cold, want

and exposure within ten miles of the sea, of which we had absolute

command. It was therefore necessary to improvise a new army by the

old expedients of bounties, hiring foreign mercenaries, and so

forth. Hundreds of boys were sent out to die after the old fashion;

and the Militia were employed, with their own consent, to take over

part of the Mediterranean garrisons, and to release the regular

troops there for active service. By dint of extravagant expenditure

an efficient army was formed within the space of two years, just in

time to witness the conclusion of peace.

That was our last European war. It woke us up a little; and we

were still further roused by the triumph of the Germans over the

French in 1870. We took our army more or less in hand, improved

the organisation by substituting regiments of two battalions for

regiments of one battalion, and introduced a system of enlisting

men not for twenty-one years with the colours, but for seven

with the colours and five in the Reserve. The system worked

badly at first, when we had to provide troops for small colonial

expeditions; but the faults were gradually amended; and the

organisation stood the test fairly well in 1899 and 1900 in South

Africa. We can now send 150,000 men abroad perfectly equipped,

which is more than we could ever do before; but other nations count

their armies by millions, and in reality we are as far behindhand

as ever we were. We have no means of replacing those 150,000 within

six months, which would be necessary in case of a great war; much

less have we means of expanding their numbers to twice 150,000 and

keeping their ranks filled; and we have no efficient force of any

strength, not even the old Militia, for home defence, while our

150,000 are abroad. Do not think that I am "talking politics." I

am only stating plain facts. I cannot discuss, nor even propound,

the questions which these facts suggest; but I cannot avoid the

assertion of the facts themselves, for they are essential to our

understanding of our subject--they are indeed the pith of British

military history.

LECTURE III

BRITISH COLONIAL CAMPAIGNS

I propose in my present lecture to deal with our colonial campaigns

at large. You will recognise at once that a colonial campaign

differs from other campaigns in one essential point. One does not

attempt to form colonies in any but an empty or comparatively

empty country, first because in any other there is no room for

colonists, and secondly because a numerous native population may be

subdued but cannot be displaced. It is therefore imperative that

the indigenous inhabitants of a country, whither settlers propose

to emigrate, shall be few; and it is practically as imperative

that, unless their numbers are so scanty as to be negligible, they

shall be of inferior civilisation, so that they may not be able

to fight the settlers on equal terms. Now what do inferiority of

civilisation and paucity of numbers mean, militarily speaking, to

the civilised invader? They mean, first of all, no roads or at

the very best rough tracks, and no bridges over rivers; they mean

further rude cultivation and very small stores, if any, of cereal

food. This signifies in its turn that the great problem of the

campaign will be how to feed your force in the field, or as we now

call it the problem of transport (for the campaign will be more

than ever a picnic) and of supply. In the matter of actual combat

the uncivilised enemy will have the advantage certainly of perfect

adaptation to the climate, intimate knowledge of the country, and

generally of stronger physical endurance, greater rapidity of

movement, and decided superiority in eyesight and hearing. His

disadvantages will be inferior organisation, inferior armament, and

inexperience of the need for providing a great multitude with food

at a distance from its provision-grounds. Speaking generally the

sound principle of savage warfare is this--to equip yourself with

a good service for transport and supply, march up to your enemy,

sit down and fortify yourself in a strong position. Your enemy must

then do one of three things: attack you, in which case he is sure

to be defeated; move on; or starve. He is not likely to attempt

attack after a lesson or two, and therefore as a rule he will move

on. You then move after him and sit down again, destroying or

appropriating his provision-grounds and capturing his cattle, as

you find opportunity. By this method you must infallibly bring him

to submission. It was thus that George Monk subdued the Highlands.

It is not, however, by any means always possible to pursue this

policy. Your adversaries may be dwellers in forests, such as the

Red Indian; or in wooded mountains, such as the Kaffir and the

Carib; or defended in part by an arid wilderness, as are the

Soudanis. Moreover they may be a people of military instincts and

organisation, with their own skilful system of tactics, and a sense

of honour which prefers death to disgrace. Such were that most

gallant race, the Zulus. Or they may be of a magnificent strength

and stature with a fanatical contempt for death, as the Dervishes.

Or they may combine something of the Zulu with their own very

elaborate system of fortification, as the Maoris. Each race and

country presents its own peculiar features and problems, which

need to be considered and solved upon their merits. But speaking

generally the difference between the civilised and uncivilised

fighter is this, that the one takes care to carry his food with

him, whereas the other does not.

Now what is true of a savage country at the outset usually remains

true for some time, indeed for a very long time, after civilised

settlement has begun. The supplies of food are small, for a small

population cannot grow much produce, and has no occasion to lay

in a great store; roads and means of communication are few and

bad; and there is hardly a bridge to be found. If all the miles

of macadamised road existent in the whole of the British Empire

at this moment were added together, I doubt if they would equal,

or even nearly equal, those of the British Isles alone. Bearing

these things in mind, and remembering that two centuries ago there

were very few paved roads in Europe, and not a single macadamised

road until less than a century ago, let us look for a time at our

colonial Military History.

Our earliest settlements were made in North America and the West

Indies; the latter slightly earlier than the former but to all

intent contemporaneously; and the Dutch and French were there

very nearly as early as we ourselves, at the beginning of the

seventeenth century. In North America the settlers naturally

established themselves first on the coast, using the great rivers

as water-ways to penetrate into the back country. The Dutch in

the first instance chose one of the most important of those

rivers, building the town of New Amsterdam at the mouth of the

Hudson. The French took perhaps the most important of all, the St

Lawrence, founding Quebec near its mouth and Montreal a little

higher up. Lastly the Spaniards held the south and the mouth of the

Mississippi, so far away that they were of small concern either to

the French or the English. South of the St Lawrence the English

colonists scattered themselves in the course of the seventeenth

century along more than a thousand miles of coast from the Kennebec

to the Savannah. Quebec itself was captured in 1627 from the French

but, in spite of the protests of far-seeing men, was given back

under a treaty of peace in 1632. New Amsterdam was taken from the

Dutch in 1664, and retained as New York. In their early days most

of these settlements came into hostile collision with the Indians

at one time or another, but were able to hold their own, for they

had brought with them over the ocean the old English principle that

all able-bodied men were liable to service for domestic defence.

New York, however, did even better; for that Colony specially

cultivated the friendship of the Five Nations--the most formidable

of the Indians--for the sake not only of the fur-trade, but of

protection against other Indians and dangerous neighbours on the

north.

Those dangerous neighbours were of course the French. Their

colonies on the St Lawrence were strictly military, the settlers

being mostly old soldiers who received their grants of land in

reward for past and in consideration of future service; while

the government was despotic and centred in a military officer of

experience and ability. The younger French settlers were always

attracted by the free life of the Indians in the forest; hence

every man was a skilful woodman, a good marksman and a trained

canoe-man, in fact a better sportsman and warrior than colonist.

Moreover they and the Jesuits, who both ministered to their

spiritual needs and laboured to convert and rule the Indians, were

enterprising and intrepid explorers. They soon wandered through

the whole chain of lakes, found the rivers Illinois and Wisconsin

running out of Lake Michigan, and followed them down the whole

course of the Mississippi to New Orleans, taking possession of the

entire country in the name of Louis XIV. This they accomplished

in 1680, five years before the death of King Charles II; and we

ought always to salute the gallant French nation in honour of

the brave men who essayed and accomplished this great feat of

exploration. From that moment the French conceived the notion of

getting behind us along the entire length of the continent, and

confining us to the coast, with the power always of coming down

upon our settlements from the rear at any convenient opportunity,

and driving us into the sea. It is a very general system with the

French, which they have attempted in our own time in West Africa.

They always explore and they always make maps, being a practical

people, and the result is that they always get the better of us in

disputes over boundaries. Their strong points in America in the

seventeenth century were their unity and enterprise. Their weak

points were their numbers (for they did not exceed twelve thousand)

and the fact that they raised no great quantity of food.

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