The Press. — London, England, 1858-06-12 00:00:00

THE PRESS, JUNE 12,1858. chapter of a treatise on the theory of war ; here is an unfinished essay on the different methods which have been adopted by civilized nations of arming and arranging troops. We have, in short, in this volume materials for three distinct books; but a book we have not. It is true that the subject of a book may often consist of more than one part, and that each of those parts might be treated separately. It is true also that it may often be necessary, in treating a large and complex subject, to omit much detail, and even to leave the outline incomplete; but then the parts must be sacrificed to the whole, not sacri ficed to the detriment of the whole. In a picture of London from Waterloo-bridge it would be wrong to paint the whole of St. Paul's, but it would not therefore be right to omit the dome, nor again would it be right to introduce the pulpit. The artist must omit some parts of his original and introduce others ; but not as he pleases—not as he finds it convenient to himself. the Lieutenant-Colonel has observed no law in his admissions and exclusions. To give a single example out of many, he has bestowed no notice on the Battle of Pavia, which was certainly no table, since it is said that muskets were employed there for the first time, and with decisive effect. Yet he has described at length the Battle of Rocroi, admitting at the same time that it was a battle altogether unimportant to science. It is indeed a difficult thing, and one requiring much theoretic power, to abstract from the vast and curiously-woven web of history the single thread of war—to disentangle it from interna tional politics in which it begins, from social economics which determine the manner of waging it, from the character of individual com manders and the force of external circumstances by which its issue is frequently affected in an exceptional manner. The paradoxes of war are many, and probably no kind of human activity presents at the same time so much scope for skill and so little for theory. To collect a certain number of men, to place them under the com mand of a single leader, so that they may com bine the force of a multitude with the prompt ness of an individual, might seem at first sight no very formidable task, or one demanding only diligence and perseverance. History, however, shows that it is a task which can only be accom plished with any success in certain states of civil society. It is consistent with the highest civili zation and with the lowest, but with no middle grade, for it demands from men implicit obe dience to a superior ; and of this only men living under a refined and efficient political organiza tion, or men accustomed to abject servitude, are capable. Obedience may be constrained by whips or by a sense of public duty, but by no thing else ; and obedience is the one indispen sable requisite of a soldier. The most enthu siastic and chivalrous valour will not make a good soldier. If it would, the age when men were most warlike would not be the age when war was waged with the least effect. That all the armies of confederated Europe, each indivi dual of them inflamed with the most powerful of impulses, religious enthusiasm and military ar dour, should fail in a contest of two centu ries to maintain Jerusalem against the Turks, and that throughout the whole of that unparalleled war not a spark of military genius should have been displayed in the Christian camp, not a battle fought from which a lesson in war may be learnt at the present day, is a fact worth accounting for. It cannot be due to the difference of manners or equipments. That difference was as great in Greece, Carthage, or Rome. Yet we still admire the military genius of Alexander, Hannibal, and Gesar, and Napo leon pronounced their campaigns highly deserv ing of a military man's attention. Nor, as we have said, were the Crusaders deficient in spirit or in training. They had probably more valour and more love of war than the troops of Alexander or Hannibal. The secret of their in efficiency was this, that they wanted unity. They had too much spirit to obey as slaves, and not enough moral education to obey as free men. A body of Crusaders could never constitute an army, for it was not systematically guided by one will. Each man fought for himself and by him self; he gave his service to his sovereign for a space of time, hut he reserved to himself the right of determining the manner of that service. He bound himself to fight for his sovereign, but pot to obey orders. The sovereign was not a ' • general, but only the leading warrior; the *MAI was no army, but only a company of duellists, or rather, perhaps, a company of moving for tresses, each man depending less upon the as sistance of his comrades than upon the iron stronghold of which he formed the garrison. • If the warriors of the Middle Age had had less spirit and energy, they might have been better soldiers, though, perhaps, we, their de scendants, might have been worse. The soldiers who sustained Frederick in the most desperate struggle a king ever waged, were vagabonds drawn from all parts of Germany by deceptive promises, or by force, and trained by the disci pline of the cane. Slaves commanded by a hero may be good soldiers, for they know how to obey, and their leader can sometimes teach them how to dare. On the contrary, soldiers of the highest moral standard, brave by nature and trained to the performance of public duties, are not always the best soldiers. The citizen soldier is some times too much of a politician, too free-spoken, too much alive to the miseries caused by war. The free republics of Greece present an example of this. The art of war did not flourish among them as much as might have been expected ; military genius had not much scope among them. War was cultivated more successfully among the slavish and barbarous Macedonians, precisely because they were less enlightened and less patriotic. }or they did not value human life so highly nor watch their leader with such jealous eyes. The art of war suffered at Athens from its fear of standing armies and of a military des potism. It would seem that war ought to be best understood and practised where liberty and a standing army exist together. The last great change which has been made in the manner of fighting appears to be the re modelling of the cavalry by the great Frederick. It is thus referred to by our author : When Frederick came to the throne, the discipline and elementary tactics of the Prussian infantry had already been brought to a high state of perfection ; but the Prus sian cavalry was not remarkable for anything but the ap pearance of the men and the fine condition of the horses. Like the cavalry of other States, it was heavy and incapable of rapid motion. Charges were made at a trot, the troopers firing their pistols or carbines. This practice was prohibited by Frederick, and his cavalry was ordered to disregard the tire of the enemy's squadrons ; advance at a gallop, and attack at once with the sword. The supe riority which Frederick's revelry thus acquired was socn evident, and answered fully all his expectations. Hence forward the object aimed at in the cavalry exercise was to attain gond use of the sword, and to preserve close order and the alignment at the gallop; and through this system, when the Seven Years' War commenced, the Prussian cavalry could go through all their manoeuvres in perfect order at full gallop. The reaction against cavalry after the dis appearance of chivalry had been excessive. The knights of the Middle Age had at least under stood their object in mounting themselves on horseback. They knew that they meant to give greater weight and momentum to their charge. This, however, had been forgotten in the seven teenth century, a custom having been intro duced from Germany of arming the cavalry with pistols instead of lances. It was perhaps as well that cavalry should be put aside for a time, while the best manner of using infantry was to be ascertained; but it was right, also, when this was once accomplished, to restore the other arm to its proper function. The Lieutenant-Colonel contrasts Frederick the great tactician with Napoleon the great strategist : Until the time of Napoleon, strategy can only be said to have been dimly seen : a concurrence of various circum stances was required to bring forth this important branch of the science of war, or rather the science itself, from the bosom of obscurty—sucii as artnes on a vast scale in point of numerical strength, extensive combinations, wars of prolonged duration, a general of consummate genius. The great struggle which succeeded, and was the natural consequence of the French revolution, called forth all the warlike energies and military talent of Europe, and the metaphysics of war, the science of great operations, the art of massing and manceavring troops, hitherto in many respects in a state of infancy, rapidly advanced to maturity. In fact, that period may be said to afford examples of the utmost range to which it can be expected man will ever attain, either in his capacity of general or simple soldier, It is not possible to conceive men brought to a higher state of perfection in discipline and military training than the warriors who rallied round the eagles of Napoleon, or those whose arms were lifted to defend the ancient standards of Europe; neither is it possible to conceive that the lofty aspirations of those illustrious generals, whose renown has echoed through the world, or the skill they displayed in using the mighty instrument of war, will ever be surpsped by tlic genius of any future bawler. s pecting France. On the . Rhine, for instance, his curiosity did not lead h i m to explore the S even Mountains, nor to visit the district of the Eifel— both well worthy of a traveller's attention, and c ite easy of access. We have not tound any kin in this latter part of the book so well wor thy of extract as many passages which might be selected from that which describes France. The following, for instance, is an average speci men of Mr. Bell's manner and liveliness of style • :- THE BRETON TAILOR is a complex man in mind and person. Generally cross. made, lame, and humpbacked, red hair, and a violent squint would camplete the beau-ideal of the class. The reason A ssigned for these peculiarities is, that the profession is embraced only by persons of weakly growth, although it is very difficult to conceive how such persona could perform the varied and toilsome offices monopolized by the craft. The tailor rarely marries, scarcely ever has a house of his own, and lives abroad like the birds or the wild goats. The men hold him in profound contempt on account of kis effeminacy; but he Ends on ample compensation in the ardour of the women. He seldom dines at the same table with the men ; but when they are gone, a dozen fair hands lay out a cozy repast for him. The source of his influence Hies in his wheedling tongue. He is an eternal chatterbox, a consummate master of the art of flattery, is cubed at the whole strategy of flirtation, and can coquet and coax with unfailing success for others, although never for himself. His individual exemption on this score gives him a sort of licence with the fair sex ; for a pretty girl may listen with impunity to a men so completely out of the pale of wedlock. He retails all the small-talk and scandal of the parish ; knows all the new songs, occasionally contributing one of his own; and is as full of stories, and tells them as well, as the mendicant—with this difference, that the latter confines himself to stories as melancholy as his own life, while those of the tailor, Letter suited to his peculiar functions, are all glee and sunshine. In a word, the tailor is the scandalous chronicle and high minister of the love affairs of his district. He is at the height of his inspiration when he is charged with a negotiation of marriage—an undertaking which is usually managed through his agency. If he meets a magpie on his way, he quickens his steps; fur it is con sidered an ill omen. His first object is to see the young lady alone. He opens with some indifferent topic—the weather—the crops—the state of the sky : perhaps he hits upon the stars; then, naturally enough, compares them to her eyes: and so contrives to hring about the delicate question with the address of an accomplished diplomatist. When he succeeds in obtaining her consent, he applies to her parents, and a day is settled, on which he brings the lover to the house, accompanied by his nearest relative. This is called asking leave. The young people retire to one end Of the house, while the old ones are settling the preliminaries at the other, the tailor vibrating like a pendulum between them. At last the lovers are summoned to the table, where they eat with the same inile, drink out of the same glass, and indulge in white bread, wine, and brandy. Mr. Bell's volume is profusely illustrated with well-chosen woodcuts, is nicely got up both as to printing and cover, and would form an ex cellent book for a present. It will bear dipping into or reading through equally well, and those who are meditating a tour in France (if the passport regulations will let them) may find in it a very interesting one all ready chalked out for their guidance. Elementary History of the Progress of the Art of War. By Lieutenant-Colonel J. J. Graham. London : Bentley. TuE author of this book has not steadily adhered to his very good plan. It was indeed a (plan which demanded for its adequate accomplishment not only a perfect mastery of the subject, but a good deal of literary skill. To expound a science popularly you must be acquainted with it fami liarly, and you must besides understand tho roughly the art of exposition. Whether our author has the first requisite we can hardly undertake to say, because he is so decidedly defi cient in the second that many omissions which seein at first to betray a want of information may possibly be due to awkwardness in communicating if, and much hazy and confused dissertation which, if the writer were skilful, might excite a suspicion of ignorance may here be attributed merely to literary inexperience. Whatever be the cause of it, the book before us is a medley of theoretical discussion and historical narrative, alike unsatisfactory whether they be considered apart or in conjunction. Neither a history of the art of war nor an exposition of it does our author give, but a fragment of each; nor does the scantling of theoretical exposition which he furnishes suffice to make the historical fragments intelligible ; nor do the desultory scraps of history which he supplies serve to illustrate his incom plete statement of p r inciples. Parts of several books are contained in this volume. Materials are here for a critical history of the principal "MPaigllB of modern war; here is the first t