WHAT is a battle? A conflict of the main body, but not an unimportant
one about a secondary object, not a mere attempt which is given up
when we see betimes that our object is hardly within our reach: it is
a conflict waged with all our forces for the attainment of a decisive
victory.

Minor objects may also be mixed up with the principal object, and it
will take many different tones of colour from the circumstances out of
which it originates, for a battle belongs also to a greater whole of
which it is only a part, but because the essence of War is conflict,
and the battle is the conflict of the main Armies, it is always to be
regarded as the real centre of gravity of the War, and therefore its
distinguishing character is, that unlike all other encounters, it
is arranged for, and undertaken with the sole purpose of obtaining a
decisive victory.

This has an influence on the MANNER OF ITS DECISION, on the EFFECT OF
THE VICTORY CONTAINED IN IT, and determines THE VALUE WHICH THEORY IS TO
ASSIGN TO IT AS A MEANS TO AN END.

On that account we make it the subject of our special consideration, and
at this stage before we enter upon the special ends which may be bound
up with it, but which do not essentially alter its character if it
really deserves to be termed a battle.

If a battle takes place principally on its own account, the elements of
its decision must be contained in itself; in other words, victory must
be striven for as long as a possibility or hope remains. It must not,
therefore, be given up on account of secondary circumstances, but only
and alone in the event of the forces appearing completely insufficient.

Now how is that precise moment to be described?

If a certain artificial formation and cohesion of an Army is the
principal condition under which the bravery of the troops can gain a
victory, as was the case during a great part of the period of the modern
Art of War, THEN THE BREAKING UP OF THIS FORMATION is the decision. A
beaten wing which is put out of joint decides the fate of all that was
connected with it. If as was the case at another time the essence of the
defence consists in an intimate alliance of the Army with the ground on
which it fights and its obstacles, so that Army and position are only
one, then the CONQUEST of AN ESSENTIAL POINT in this position is
the decision. It is said the key of the position is lost, it cannot
therefore be defended any further; the battle cannot be continued. In
both cases the beaten Armies are very much like the broken strings of an
instrument which cannot do their work.

That geometrical as well as this geographical principle which had a
tendency to place an Army in a state of crystallising tension which did
not allow of the available powers being made use of up to the last
man, have at least so far lost their influence that they no longer
predominate. Armies are still led into battle in a certain order, but
that order is no longer of decisive importance; obstacles of ground are
also still turned to account to strengthen a position, but they are no
longer the only support.

We attempted in the second chapter of this book to take a general view
of the nature of the modern battle. According to our conception of it,
the order of battle is only a disposition of the forces suitable to
the convenient use of them, and the course of the battle a mutual slow
wearing away of these forces upon one another, to see which will have
soonest exhausted his adversary.

The resolution therefore to give up the fight arises, in a battle
more than in any other combat, from the relation of the fresh reserves
remaining available; for only these still retain all their moral vigour,
and the cinders of the battered, knocked-about battalions, already burnt
out in the destroying element, must not be placed on a level with them;
also lost ground as we have elsewhere said, is a standard of lost moral
force; it therefore comes also into account, but more as a sign of loss
suffered than for the loss itself, and the number of fresh reserves is
always the chief point to be looked at by both Commanders.

In general, an action inclines in one direction from the very
commencement, but in a manner little observable. This direction is also
frequently given in a very decided manner by the arrangements which have
been made previously, and then it shows a want of discernment in that
General who commences battle under these unfavourable circumstances
without being aware of them. Even when this does not occur it lies in
the nature of things that the course of a battle resembles rather a slow
disturbance of equilibrium which commences soon, but as we have said
almost imperceptibly at first, and then with each moment of time becomes
stronger and more visible, than an oscillating to and fro, as those who
are misled by mendacious descriptions usually suppose.

But whether it happens that the balance is for a long time little
disturbed, or that even after it has been lost on one side it rights
itself again, and is then lost on the other side, it is certain at all
events that in most instances the defeated General foresees his fate
long before he retreats, and that cases in which some critical event
acts with unexpected force upon the course of the whole have their
existence mostly in the colouring with which every one depicts his lost
battle.

We can only here appeal to the decision of unprejudiced men of
experience, who will, we are sure, assent to what we have said, and
answer for us to such of our readers as do not know War from their own
experience. To develop the necessity of this course from the nature of
the thing would lead us too far into the province of tactics, to which
this branch of the subject belongs; we are here only concerned with its
results.

If we say that the defeated General foresees the unfavourable result
usually some time before he makes up his mind to give up the battle, we
admit that there are also instances to the contrary, because otherwise
we should maintain a proposition contradictory in itself. If at the
moment of each decisive tendency of a battle it should be considered as
lost, then also no further forces should be used to give it a turn, and
consequently this decisive tendency could not precede the retreat by
any length of time. Certainly there are instances of battles which after
having taken a decided turn to one side have still ended in favour
of the other; but they are rare, not usual; these exceptional cases,
however, are reckoned upon by every General against whom fortune
declares itself, and he must reckon upon them as long as there remains
a possibility of a turn of fortune. He hopes by stronger efforts, by
raising the remaining moral forces, by surpassing himself, or also by
some fortunate chance that the next moment will bring a change, and
pursues this as far as his courage and his judgment can agree. We shall
have something more to say on this subject, but before that we must show
what are the signs of the scales turning.

The result of the whole combat consists in the sum total of the results
of all partial combats; but these results of separate combats are
settled by different considerations.

First by the pure moral power in the mind of the leading officers. If a
General of Division has seen his battalions forced to succumb, it will
have an influence on his demeanour and his reports, and these again will
have an influence on the measures of the Commander-in-Chief; therefore
even those unsuccessful partial combats which to all appearance are
retrieved, are not lost in their results, and the impressions from them
sum themselves up in the mind of the Commander without much trouble, and
even against his will.

Secondly, by the quicker melting away of our troops, which can be easily
estimated in the slow and relatively(*) little tumultuary course of our
battles.

(*) Relatively, that is say to the shock of former days.

Thirdly, by lost ground.

All these things serve for the eye of the General as a compass to tell
the course of the battle in which he is embarked. If whole batteries
have been lost and none of the enemy's taken; if battalions have been
overthrown by the enemy's cavalry, whilst those of the enemy everywhere
present impenetrable masses; if the line of fire from his order of
battle wavers involuntarily from one point to another; if fruitless
efforts have been made to gain certain points, and the assaulting
battalions each, time been scattered by well-directed volleys of grape
and case;--if our artillery begins to reply feebly to that of the
enemy--if the battalions under fire diminish unusually, fast, because
with the wounded crowds of unwounded men go to the rear;--if single
Divisions have been cut off and made prisoners through the disruption of
the plan of the battle;--if the line of retreat begins to be endangered:
the Commander may tell very well in which direction he is going with
his battle. The longer this direction continues, the more decided it
becomes, so much the more difficult will be the turning, so much the
nearer the moment when he must give up the battle. We shall now make
some observations on this moment.

We have already said more than once that the final decision is ruled
mostly by the relative number of the fresh reserves remaining at the
last; that Commander who sees his adversary is decidedly superior to him
in this respect makes up his mind to retreat. It is the characteristic
of modern battles that all mischances and losses which take place in
the course of the same can be retrieved by fresh forces, because the
arrangement of the modern order of battle, and the way in which troops
are brought into action, allow of their use almost generally, and in
each position. So long, therefore, as that Commander against whom the
issue seems to declare itself still retains a superiority in reserve
force, he will not give up the day. But from the moment that his
reserves begin to become weaker than his enemy's, the decision may be
regarded as settled, and what he now does depends partly on special
circumstances, partly on the degree of courage and perseverance which he
personally possesses, and which may degenerate into foolish obstinacy.
How a Commander can attain to the power of estimating correctly the
still remaining reserves on both sides is an affair of skilful practical
genius, which does not in any way belong to this place; we keep
ourselves to the result as it forms itself in his mind. But this
conclusion is still not the moment of decision properly, for a motive
which only arises gradually does not answer to that, but is only a
general motive towards resolution, and the resolution itself requires
still some special immediate causes. Of these there are two chief ones
which constantly recur, that is, the danger of retreat, and the arrival
of night.

If the retreat with every new step which the battle takes in its course
becomes constantly in greater danger, and if the reserves are so much
diminished that they are no longer adequate to get breathing room, then
there is nothing left but to submit to fate, and by a well-conducted
retreat to save what, by a longer delay ending in flight and disaster,
would be lost.

But night as a rule puts an end to all battles, because a night combat
holds out no hope of advantage except under particular circumstances;
and as night is better suited for a retreat than the day, so, therefore,
the Commander who must look at the retreat as a thing inevitable, or as
most probable, will prefer to make use of the night for his purpose.

That there are, besides the above two usual and chief causes, yet many
others also, which are less or more individual and not to be overlooked,
is a matter of course; for the more a battle tends towards a complete
upset of equilibrium the more sensible is the influence of each partial
result in hastening the turn. Thus the loss of a battery, a successful
charge of a couple of regiments of cavalry, may call into life the
resolution to retreat already ripening.

As a conclusion to this subject, we must dwell for a moment on the point
at which the courage of the Commander engages in a sort of conflict with
his reason.

If, on the one hand the overbearing pride of a victorious conqueror, if
the inflexible will of a naturally obstinate spirit, if the strenuous
resistance of noble feelings will not yield the battlefield, where they
must leave their honour, yet on the other hand, reason counsels not to
give up everything, not to risk the last upon the game, but to retain as
much over as is necessary for an orderly retreat. However highly we must
esteem courage and firmness in War, and however little prospect there is
of victory to him who cannot resolve to seek it by the exertion of all
his power, still there is a point beyond which perseverance can only be
termed desperate folly, and therefore can meet with no approbation
from any critic. In the most celebrated of all battles, that of
Belle-Alliance, Buonaparte used his last reserve in an effort to
retrieve a battle which was past being retrieved. He spent his last
farthing, and then, as a beggar, abandoned both the battle-field and his
crown.