At first sight it appears as if Strategy had not improperly derived its
name from stratagem; and that, with all the real and apparent changes
which the whole character of War has undergone since the time of the
Greeks, this term still points to its real nature.

If we leave to tactics the actual delivery of the blow, the battle
itself, and look upon Strategy as the art of using this means with
skill, then besides the forces of the character, such as burning
ambition which always presses like a spring, a strong will which hardly
bends &c. &c., there seems no subjective quality so suited to guide
and inspire strategic activity as stratagem. The general tendency
to surprise, treated of in the foregoing chapter, points to this
conclusion, for there is a degree of stratagem, be it ever so small,
which lies at the foundation of every attempt to surprise.

But however much we feel a desire to see the actors in War outdo each
other in hidden activity, readiness, and stratagem, still we must admit
that these qualities show themselves but little in history, and have
rarely been able to work their way to the surface from amongst the mass
of relations and circumstances.

The explanation of this is obvious, and it is almost identical with the
subject matter of the preceding chapter.

Strategy knows no other activity than the regulating of combat with the
measures which relate to it. It has no concern, like ordinary life, with
transactions which consist merely of words--that is, in expressions,
declarations, &c. But these, which are very inexpensive, are chiefly the
means with which the wily one takes in those he practises upon.

That which there is like it in War, plans and orders given merely as
make-believers, false reports sent on purpose to the enemy--is usually
of so little effect in the strategic field that it is only resorted
to in particular cases which offer of themselves, therefore cannot be
regarded as spontaneous action which emanates from the leader.

But such measures as carrying out the arrangements for a battle, so far
as to impose upon the enemy, require a considerable expenditure of time
and power; of course, the greater the impression to be made, the greater
the expenditure in these respects. And as this is usually not given for
the purpose, very few demonstrations, so-called, in Strategy, effect the
object for which they are designed. In fact, it is dangerous to detach
large forces for any length of time merely for a trick, because there
is always the risk of its being done in vain, and then these forces are
wanted at the decisive point.

The chief actor in War is always thoroughly sensible of this sober
truth, and therefore he has no desire to play at tricks of agility. The
bitter earnestness of necessity presses so fully into direct action that
there is no room for that game. In a word, the pieces on the strategical
chess-board want that mobility which is the element of stratagem and
subtility.

The conclusion which we draw, is that a correct and penetrating eye is
a more necessary and more useful quality for a General than craftiness,
although that also does no harm if it does not exist at the expense of
necessary qualities of the heart, which is only too often the case.

But the weaker the forces become which are under the command of
Strategy, so much the more they become adapted for stratagem, so that
to the quite feeble and little, for whom no prudence, no sagacity is
any longer sufficient at the point where all art seems to forsake
him, stratagem offers itself as a last resource. The more helpless his
situation, the more everything presses towards one single, desperate
blow, the more readily stratagem comes to the aid of his boldness. Let
loose from all further calculations, freed from all concern for the
future, boldness and stratagem intensify each other, and thus collect at
one point an infinitesimal glimmering of hope into a single ray, which
may likewise serve to kindle a flame.