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The Military Spirit of Nations, and the Morale of Armies.

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The adoption of the best regulations for the organization of an army would be in vain if the government did not at the same time cultivate a military spirit in its citizens. It may well be the case in London, situated on an island and protected from invasion by its immense fleets, that the title of a rich banker should be preferred to a military decoration; but a continental nation imbued with the sentiments and habits of the tradesmen of London or the bankers of Paris would sooner or later fall a prey to its neighbors. It was to the union of the civic virtues and military spirit fostered by their institutions that the Romans were indebted for their grandeur; and when they lost these virtues, and when, no longer regarding the military service as an honor as well as a duty, they relinquished it to mercenary Goths and Gauls, the fall of the empire became inevitable. It is doubtless true that whatever increases the prosperity of the country should be neither neglected nor despised; it is also necessary to honor the branches of industry which are the first instruments of this prosperity; but they should always be secondary to the great institutions which make up the strength of states in encouraging the cultivation of the manly and heroic virtues. Policy and justice both agree on this point; for, whatever Boileau may say, it is certainly more glorious to confront death in the footsteps of the Cæsars than to fatten upon the public miseries by gambling on the vicissitudes of the national credit. Misfortune will certainly fall upon the land where the wealth of the tax-gatherer or the greedy gambler in stocks stands, in public estimation, above the uniform of the brave man who sacrifices his life, health, or fortune to the defense of his country.

The first means of encouraging the military spirit is to invest the army with all possible social and public consideration. The second means is to give the preference to those who have rendered services to the state, in filling any vacancies in the administrative departments of the government, or even to require a certain length of military service as a qualification for certain offices. A comparison of the ancient military institutions of Rome with those of Russia and Prussia, is a subject worthy of serious attention; and it would also be interesting to contrast them with the doctrines of modern theorists, who declare against the employment of officers of the army in other public functions, and who wish for none but rhetoricians in the important offices of administration.[5] It is true that many public employments demand a special course of study; but cannot the soldier, in the abundant leisure of peace, prepare himself for the career he would prefer after having fulfilled his debt to his country in the profession of arms? If these administrative offices were conferred upon officers retired from the army in a grade not lower than that of captain, would it not be a stimulant for officers to attain that rank, and would it not lead them, when in garrisons, to find their recreations elsewhere than in the theaters and public clubs?

It may be possible that this facility of transfer from the military to the civil service would be rather injurious than favorable to a high military spirit, and that to encourage this spirit it would be expedient to place the profession of the soldier above all others. This was the early practice of the Mamelukes and Janissaries. Their soldiers were bought at the age of about seven years, and were educated in the idea that they were to die by their standards. Even the English—so jealous of their rights—contract, in enlisting as soldiers, the obligation for the whole length of their lives, and the Russian, in enlisting for twenty-five years, does what is almost equivalent. In such armies, and in those recruited by voluntary enlistments, perhaps it would not be advisable to tolerate this fusion of military and civil offices; but where the military service is a temporary duty imposed upon the people, the case is different, and the old Roman laws which required a previous military service of ten years in any aspirant for the public employments, seem to be best calculated to preserve the military spirit—particularly in this age, when the attainment of material comfort and prosperity appears to be the dominant passion of the people.

However this may be, still, in my opinion, under all forms of government, it will be a wise part to honor the military profession, in order to encourage the love of glory and all the warlike virtues, under the penalty of receiving the reproaches of posterity and suffering insult and dependency.

It is not sufficient to foster the military spirit among the people, but, more than that, it is necessary to encourage it in the army. Of what avail would it be if the uniform be honored in the land and it be regarded as a duty to serve in the army, while the military virtues are wanting? The forces would be numerous but without valor.

The enthusiasm of an army and its military spirit are two quite different things, and should not be confounded, although they produce the same effects. The first is the effect of passions more or less of a temporary character—of a political or religious nature, for instance, or of a great love of country; while the latter, depending upon the skill of the commander and resulting from military institutions, is more permanent and depends less upon circumstances, and should be the object of the attention of every far-seeing government.[6] Courage should be recompensed and honored, the different grades in rank respected, and discipline should exist in the sentiments and convictions rather than in external forms only.

The officers should feel the conviction that resignation, bravery, and faithful attention to duty are virtues without which no glory is possible, no army is respectable, and that firmness amid reverses is more honorable than enthusiasm in success—since courage alone is necessary to storm a position, while it requires heroism to make a difficult retreat before a victorious and enterprising enemy, always opposing to him a firm and unbroken front. A fine retreat should meet with a reward equal to that given for a great victory.

By inuring armies to labor and fatigue, by keeping them from stagnation in garrison in times of peace, by inculcating their superiority over their enemies, without depreciating too much the latter, by inspiring a love for great exploits—in a word, by exciting their enthusiasm by every means in harmony with their tone of mind, by honoring courage, punishing weakness, and disgracing cowardice—we may expect to maintain a high military spirit.

Effeminacy was the chief cause of the ruin of the Roman legions: those formidable soldiers, who had borne the casque, buckler, and cuirass in the times of the Scipios under the burning sun of Africa, found them too heavy in the cool climates of Germany and Gaul; and then the empire was lost.

I have remarked that it is not well to create a too great contempt for the enemy, lest the morale of the soldier should be shaken if he encounter an obstinate resistance. Napoleon at Jena, addressing Lannes' troops, praised the Prussian cavalry, but promised that they would contend in vain against the bayonets of his Egyptians.

The officers and troops must be warned against those sudden panics which often seize the bravest armies when they are not well controlled by discipline, and hence when they do not recognize that in order is the surest hope of safety. It was not from want of courage that one hundred thousand Turks were beaten at Peterwardein by Prince Eugene, and at Kagoul by Romanzoff: it was because, once repulsed in their disorderly charges, every one yielded to his personal feelings, and because they fought individually, but not in masses and in order. An army seized with panic is similarly in a state of demoralization; because when disorder is once introduced all concerted action on the part of individuals becomes impossible, the voice of the officers can no longer be heard, no maneuver for resuming the battle can be executed, and there is no resource but in ignominious flight.

Nations with powerful imaginations are particularly liable to panics; and nothing short of strong institutions and skillful leaders can remedy it. Even the French, whose military virtues when well led have never been questioned, have often performed some quick movements of this kind which were highly ridiculous. We may refer to the unbecoming panic which pervaded the infantry of Marshal Villars after having gained the battle of Friedlingen, in 1704. The same occurred to Napoleon's infantry after the victory of Wagram and when the enemy was in full retreat. A still more extraordinary case was the flight of the 97th semi-brigade, fifteen hundred strong, at the siege of Genoa, before a platoon of cavalry. Two days afterward these same men took Fort Diamond by one of the most vigorous assaults mentioned in modern history.

Still, it would seem to be easy to convince brave men that death comes more quickly and more surely to those who fly in disorder than to those who remain together and present a firm front to the enemy, or who rally promptly when their lines have been for the instant broken.

In this respect the Russian army may be taken as a model by all others. The firmness which it has displayed in all retreats is due in equal degrees to the national character, the natural instincts of the soldiers, and the excellent disciplinary institutions. Indeed, vivacity of imagination is not always the cause of the introduction of disorder: the want of the habit of order often causes it, and the lack of precautions on the part of the generals to maintain this order contributes to it. I have often been astonished at the indifference of most generals on this point. Not only did they not deign to take the slightest precaution to give the proper direction to small detachments or scattered men, and fail to adopt any signals to facilitate the rallying in each division of the fractions which may be scattered in a momentary panic or in an irresistible charge of the enemy, but they were offended that any one should think of proposing such precautions. Still, the most undoubted courage and the most severe discipline will often be powerless to remedy a great disorder, which might be in a great degree obviated by the use of rallying-signals for the different divisions. There are, it is true, cases where all human resources are insufficient for the maintenance of order, as when the physical sufferings of the soldiers have been so great as to render them deaf to all appeals, and when their officers find it impossible to do any thing to organize them—which was the case in the retreat of 1812. Leaving out these exceptional cases, good habits of order, good logistical precautions for rallying, and good discipline will most frequently be successful, if not in preventing disorder, at least in promptly remedying it.

It is now time to leave this branch, of which I have only desired to trace an outline, and to proceed to the examination of subjects which are purely military.

FOOTNOTES:

[5]

For instance, in France, instead of excluding all officers from the privilege of the elective franchise, it should be given to all colonels; and the generals should be eligible to the legislature. The most venal deputies will not be those from military life.

[6]

It is particularly important that this spirit should pervade the officers and non-commissioned officers: if they be capable, and the nation brave, there need be no fear for the men.

The Art of War

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