“In Chess the soldiers are the men and the General is the mind of the player.”—Emanuel Lasker. “It is neither riches nor armies that make a nation formidable; but the courage and genius of the Commander-in-Chief.”—Frederic the Great. “Ho! Ye Macedonians! Because together we have conquered the World, think ye to give law to the blood of Achilles and to withstand the dictates of the Son of Jupiter? “Choose ye a new commander, draw yourselves up for battle; I will lead against you those Persians whom ye so despise, and if you are victorious, by Mehercule, I will do everything that you desire.”—Alexander the Great. “It is I and I alone, who give you your glory and your success.”—Napoleon. “My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways, My ways, saith the Lord.”—Holy Bible. By authority indisputable, the ex-cathedra dictum of the greatest of the Great Captains, we have been informed that the higher processes of the military system, eternally will remain unchanged. As a necessary corollary, it follows that these processes always have been and always will be comprehended and employed by every great Captain. Equally, it is self-evident, that capability to comprehend these higher processes, united with ability properly to utilize them to win battles and campaigns, constitutes genius for Warfare. Moreover, we are further informed by the same unimpeachable authority, that so irresistible is genius for warfare, that united to courage, it is formidable beyond the united financial and military resources of the State. In corroboration of this, we have the testimony of well-qualified judges. Says the Count de Saxe: “Unless a man is born with talent for war and this talent is brought to perfection, it is impossible for him to be more than an indifferent general.” In these days, more or less degenerate from the soldierly standpoint, the fantastic sophistries of Helvetius have vogue, and most people believe book-learning to be all-in-all. Many are so weak-minded, as really to believe, that because born in the Twentieth Century, they necessarily are the repository of all the virtues, and particularly of all the knowledge acquired by their ancestors from remotest generations. Few seem to understand that the child, even of ultra-modern conditions, is born just as ignorant and often invincibly so, as were the sons of Ham, Shem and Japhet, and most appear to be unaware, that: Only by intelligent reflection upon their own experience and upon the experiences of others, can one acquire knowledge. The triviality of crowding the memory with things that may or may not be true, is the merest mimicry of education. Real education is nothing more than the fruit of experience; and he who acts in conformity to such knowledge, alone is wise. Thus to act, implies ability to comprehend. But there are those in whom capability is limited; hence, all may not be wise who wish to be so, and these necessarily remain through life very much as they are born. The use of knowledge would be infinitely more certain, if our understanding of its accurate application were as extensive as our needs require. We have only a few ideas of the attributes of matter and of the laws of mechanics, out of an infinite number of secrets which mankind never can hope to discover. This renders our feeble adaptations in practice of the knowledge we possess, oftimes inadequate for the result we desire; and it seems obvious that if Nature had intended man to attain to the superlative, she would have endowed him with intelligence and have communicated to him information, infinitely superior to that we possess. The universal blunder of mankind arises from an hallucination that all minds are created equal; and that by mere book-learning, i.e., simply by memorizing what somebody says are facts it is possible for any man to attain to superior and even to superlative ability. Such profoundly, but utterly mis-educated people, not unnaturally may inquire, by what right speaks the eminent warrior previously quoted. These properly may be informed in the words of Frederic the Great: “The Count de Saxe is the hero of the bravest action ever done by man.” viz., A great battle was raging. Within a magnificent Pavilion in the centre of the French camp, the King, the nobility and the high Ecclesiastics of the realm were grouped about a plain iron cot. Prone upon this cot, wasted by disease, lay the Count de Saxe, in that stupor which often precedes and usually presages dissolution. The last rites of the Church had been administered, and the assemblage in silence and apprehension, awaited the approach of a victorious enemy and the final gasp of a general who had never lost a battle. The din of strife drawing nearer, penetrated the coma which enshrouded the soul of the great Field-Marshal. Saxe opened his eyes. His experienced ear told him that his army, routed and disordered, was flying before an exultant enemy. The giant whose pastime it was to tear horseshoes in twain with his bare hands and to twist nails into corkscrews with his fingers, staggered to his feet, hoarsely articulating fierce and mandatory ejaculations. Hastily clothed, the Count de Saxe was placed in a litter and borne out of his pavilion into that chaos of ruin and carnage which invariably accompanies a lost battle. Around him, behind and in front, swarmed his broken battalions and disorganized squadrons; while in pursuit advanced majestically in solid column, the triumphant English. Saxe demanded his horse and armor. Clad in iron and supported in the saddle on either hand, this modern Achilles galloped to the front of his army; then, at the head of the Scotch Guards, the Irish Brigade, and French Household troops, Saxe in person, led that series of terrific hand-to-hand onslaughts which “Furthermore,” declares this illustrious Generalissimo of Louis XIV; “It is possible to make war without trusting anything to accident; this is the highest point of skill and perfection within the province of a general.” “Most men,” writes Vergetius, “imagine that strength and courage are sufficient to secure victory. Such are ignorant that when they exist, stratagem vanquishes strength and skill overcomes courage.” In his celebrated work, Institutorum Rei Militaris, that source from whence all writers derive their best knowledge of the military methods of the ancients; and by means of which, he strove to revive in his degenerate countrymen that intelligent valor which distinguishes their great ancestors—the famous Roman reiterates this solemn warning: “Victory in war depends not on numbers, nor on courage; skill and discipline only, can ensure it.” The emphasis thus laid by these great warriors on genius for warfare is still further accentuated by men whose dicta few will dispute, viz., “The understanding of the Commander,” says Frederic the Great, “has more influence on the outcome of the battle or campaign, than has the prowess of his troops.” Says Napoleon: “The general is the head, the whole of an army. It was not the Roman army that subjugated Gaul, it was Caesar; nor was it the Carthagenian army that made the Republic tremble to the gates of Rome, it was From such opinions by men whose careers evince superlative knowledge of the subject, it is clear, that:
So abstruse are the processes of this greatest of all professions, that comprehension of it has been evidenced by eleven men only, viz.: Epaminondas, Alexander, Caesar, Hannibal, Gustavus Adolphus, Turenne, Eugene, Frederic, Washington, Napoleon, Von Moltke. Comprehension of this system can be attained, only by innate capability brought to perfection by intelligent study of the words and achievements of these great Captains. For life is so short and our memories in general so defective, that we ought to seek instruction only from the purest sources. None but men endowed by Nature with the military mind and trained in the school of the great Captains, are able to write intelligently on the acts and motives of generals of the first order. All the writings of mere literati relative to these uncommon men, no matter how excellent such authors may be, never can rise to anything more than elegant phraseology. It is of enlightened critics, such as the former, that the youthful student always is first in need. Such will guide him along a road, in which he who has no conductor may easily lose himself. They will correct his blunders considerately, recollecting that should these be ridiculed or treated with severity, talent might be stifled which might hereafter bloom to perfection. It is a difficult matter to form the average student, and to impart to him that degree of intelligent audacity and confident prudence which is requisite for the proper practice of the Art of Strategetics. To secure proficiency, the student from the beginning must cheerfully submit himself to a mental discipline, which properly may be termed severe; in order to make his faculties obedient to his will. Secondly, he must regularly exercise these faculties, in order to make them active and to acquire the habit of implicitly conforming to the laws of the Art; to make himself familiar with its processes, and to establish in his mind that confidence in its practice which can come only through experience. The student daily should exercise his mind in the routine of deployments, developments, evolutions, manoeuvres, and operations, both on the offensive and on the defensive. These exercises should be imprinted on the memory by closely reviewing the lesson of the previous day. Even with all this severe and constant effort, time is necessary for practical tactics to become habitual; for the student must become so familiar with these movements and formations that he can execute them instantly and with precision. To acquire this degree of perfection, much study is necessary; it is a mistake to think otherwise. But this study is its own sufficient reward, for the student soon will find that it has extended his ideas, and that he is beginning to think in the GREAT. At the same time the student should thoroughly instruct himself in military history, topography, logic, mathematics, and the science of fortification. With all of these the strategist must be familiar. But his chief aim must be to perfect his judgment and to bring it to the highest degree of broadness and exactness. This is best done by contemplation of the works of the Great Masters. The past history of Chess-play, is the true school for those who aspire to precedence in the Royal Game. It is their first duty to inform themselves of the processes of the great in every age, in order to shun their errors and to avail of their methods. It is essential to grasp that system of play common to the Masters; to pursue it step by step. Particularly is it necessary to learn that he who can best deduce consequences in situations whose outcome is in doubt, is the competitor who will carry off the prize from others who act less rationally than himself. Especially, should the student be wary in regard to what is termed chess analysis, as applied to the so-called “openings” and to the mid-game. Most chess analysts are compilers of falsities occasionally interspersed with truth. Among the prodigious number of variations which they pretend to establish or refute, none may be implicitly relied on in actual play; few are of value except for merely elementary purposes, and many are fallacies fatal to the user. The reason for this is: whenever men invited by curiosity, seek to examine circumstantially even the less intricate situations on the Chess-board, they at once become lost in a labyrinth abounding in obscurities and contradictions. Those, who ignorant of the synthetic method of calculation, are compelled to depend upon their analytic powers, quickly find that these, on account Any attempt to calculate the true move in Chess-play by analysis, other than in situations devoid of unknown quantities, is futile. Yet it is of such folly that the mediocre mind is most enamoured. Content with seeing much, it is oblivious to what it cannot see; and the analytical system consists merely in claiming that there is nothing to see, other than what it does see. This is that slender reed upon which the so-called “chess-analyst” hangs his claims, oblivious to the basic truth that in analysis, unless all is known, nothing is known. Many delude themselves to the contrary and strive to arrive at correct conclusions without first having arranged clearly before their minds all the facts. Hence, their opinions and judgments, being founded in ignorance of all the facts, are to that extent defective; and their conclusions necessarily wrong. Through action taken upon incomplete knowledge, men are beguiled into error; and it is to such unreason that most human catastrophes are to be attributed. Most of those who attempt to write on Strategetics, and whether applied to Chess-play or to Warfare, very quickly are compelled to seek refuge in vague phrases; in order to conceal their uncertain grasp on the subject discussed. The uninformed believe in them, because of their reputation, and are satisfied that the thing is so, without understanding WHY. Words intended to convey instruction, should not be used except in their proper meaning. Each word should be defined for the student and its use regulated. The true use of words being established, there is no longer By means of this warning, the student easily may detect the empty mouthings of enthusiastic inexperience, and equally so, the casuistries of the subtle expert; who often uses language merely to conceal from youthful talent, knowledge which if imparted, might be fatal to his domination. As the student progresses toward proficiency, he, sooner or later, will come to realize, that of all disgusting things, to a mind which revolts at nonsense, reasoning ill is the worst. It is distressing, to be afflicted with the absurdities of men, who, victims of the fancy, confound enthusiasm with capability and mistake mania for talent. The world is full of such people, who, in all honesty thinking themselves philosophers, are only visionaries enamoured of their own lunatic illusions. The true discipline for the student who aspires to proficiency at Chess-play, is, in every succeeding game, to imitate more closely the play of the Great Masters; and to endeavor to take his measures with more attention and judgment than in any preceding. Every player at Chess has defects; many have very great ones. In searching for these one should not treat himself tenderly, and when examining his faults, he should grant himself no quarter. Particularly should the student cultivate confidence in and rigidly adhere to the standard of skill, as interpreted by that immutable System of Chess-play, of which Morphy is the unapproachable and all-sufficient exponent. Observing the lack of method displayed by the incompetent Chess-commander, the student of this system will remark with astonishment, the want of plan and How dense is such a leader in the selection of a project, how slow and slovenly in its execution; how many opportunities does he suffer to escape him and how many enormous faults does he not commit? To such things, the numerically weaker but more skillful opponent, often is indebted for safety and ultimately for success. One who is opposed by such blockheads, necessarily must gain advantages continually; for conduct so opposite to all the laws of the Art, is, in itself, sufficient to incur ruin. It is for such negligence on his own part that one often has cause bitterly to reproach himself. But such errors, especially on the part of great players, are exemplary lessons for the student, who from them may learn to be more prudent, circumspect, and wise. Those who make a mere pastime of Chess, who have no desire for the true benefit of the game, do not deserve information. Such people are more numerous than may be supposed. They have few coherent ideas and are usually influenced by mere chatter and by writers whose sole excuse is enthusiasm. These players at the game cannot benefit by example. The follies of others afford them no useful lesson. Each generation of such “wood-shifters,” has blindly followed in the footsteps of those preceding and daily is guilty of errors which times innumerable have been fully exposed. It is the darling habit of such folk to treat the great things in Chess with levity and to dignify those insignificant matters which appertain to the game when used as a plaything. Such people are merely enthusiastic; usually they are Such bear about their Chessic disabilities in their character. Inflated in good fortune, groveling in adversity, these players never attain to that sage contemplation, which renders the scientific practice of Chess so indescribably beautiful. There is another class of Chess-players who from mere levity of mind are incapable of steadily pursuing any fixed plan; but who overturn, move by move, even such advantages as their good fortune may have procured. There are others, who, although possessed of great vivacity of mind and eager for information, yet lack that patience necessary to receive instruction. Lastly, there are not a few whose way of thinking and the validity of whose calculations, depend upon their good or ill digestion. It is in vain that such people endeavor to divine things beyond their understanding. Hence it is, that among those incapable of thought, or too indolent for mental effort, the game proceeds in easy fashion until routine is over. Afterward, at each move, the most probable conjecture passes for the best reason and victory ultimately rests with him whose blunders are least immediately consequential. Understanding of high art is dispensed only to the few; the great mass neither can comprehend nor enjoy it. In spite of the good natured Helvetius, all are not wise who wish to be so and men ever will remain what Nature made them. It is impossible for the stream to rise higher than its source. “The progress of human reason,” writes the great Frederic, “is more slow than is imagined; the true cause “Some, fettered by prejudice from their infancy, wish not, or are unable to break their chains; others, delighting in frivolity know not a word of mathematics and enjoy life without allowing their pleasures to be interrupted by a moment of reflection. Should one thinking man in a thousand be discovered it will be much; and it is for him that men of talent write. “The rest naturally are offended, for nothing so enrages the mediocre mind as to be compelled to admit to itself its own inferiority. Consequently, they consign book, author, and reader conjointly to Satan. So much easier is it to condemn than to refute, or to learn.” The early success of many young students does not permit them to observe that they often have departed from the rules of the Art. As they have escaped punishment for their errors, they remain unacquainted with the dangers to which they were exposed. Constant good fortune finally makes them over-confident and they do not suspect it necessary to change their measures, even when in the presence of an able foe. Thus, the youthful tyro, inconsiderate, inconsistent, and turbulent, and oblivious to the innumerable dangers by which he is surrounded, plays his pieces hither and thither, as fancy and inclination dictate, culling bouquets of the most gorgeous flowers of the imagination; thoughtless of the future and perfectly happy because he cannot reflect. To reason exactly, the student first must rid his mind of all preconceived notions; he must regard the matter under consideration as a blank sheet of paper, upon which nothing is to be written save those things which There is much difference between the Art of Logic and mere conjecture. The calculations of arithmeticians, though rigorous and exact, are never difficult; because they relate to known quantities and to the palpable objects of nature. But when it is required to argue from combining circumstances, the least ignorance of uncertain and obscure facts breaks the chain and we are deceived every moment. This is no defect of the understanding, but error arising from plausible ideas, which wear the face of and are too quickly accepted for truth. A long chapter can be written on the different ways in which men lose themselves in their conjectures. Innumerable examples of this are not wanting, and all because they have suffered themselves to be hurried away and thus to be precipitate in drawing their conclusions. The part that the General, whether in Chess-play or in Warfare, has to act, always is more difficult because he must not permit himself the least mistake, but is bound to behave with prudence and sagacity throughout a long series of intricate processes. A single false deduction, or a movement of the enemy unintelligible to a commander, may lead him to commit an irremediable error; and in cases wherein the situation is beyond comprehension, his ignorance is invincible. For however extensive the human mind may be, it never is sufficiently so to penetrate those minute combinations necessary to be developed in order to foresee and regulate events, the sequence, utility and even existence of which, depend upon future contingencies. Incidents which are past, can be explained clearly, because the reasons therefor are manifest. But men easily deceive themselves concerning the future, which, In such situations, how puerile are the projects even of the greatest Strategist. To him, as much as to the tyro, is the future hidden; he knows not what shall happen, even on the next move. How then may he foresee those situations which secondary causes later may produce? Circumstances most often oblige him to act contrary to his wishes; and in the flux and reflux of fortune, it is the part of prudence to conform to system and to act with consistency. It is impossible to foresee all events. “It is not possible,” writes the Count de Saxe, “to establish a system without first being acquainted with the principles that must necessarily support it.” In corroboration of this is the opinion of Frederic the Great: “Condemned by my unfortunate stars to philosophies on contingencies and on probabilities I employ my whole attention to examine the principle on which my argument must rest and to procure all possible information on that point. Deprived of such precaution, the edifice I erect, wanting a base, would fall like a house of cards.” Everyone who does not proceed on principle, is inconsistent in his conduct. Equally so, whenever the principle on which one acts is false, i.e., does not apply to the existing situation; all deductions based thereon, if applied to the existing situation, necessarily are false. “Those principles which the Art of Warfare prescribes, never should be departed from,” writes Frederic the Great, “and generals rigidly should adhere to those circumspections and never swerve from implicit obedience to laws, upon whose exact observance depends the safety of their armies and the success of their projects.” Thus the student will clearly see that all other calculations, though never so ingeniously imagined, are of small worth in comparison with comprehension of the use of Strategetic principles. By means of these latter, we are taught to control the raging forces which dominate in the competitive arts and to compel obedience from friend and foe alike. “To the shame of humanity it must be confessed,” writes Frederic the Great, “that what often passes for authority and consequence is mere assumption, used as a cloak to conceal from the layman the extreme of official indolence and stupidity. “To follow the routine of service, to be busied concerning food and clothing, and to eat when others eat, to fight when others fight, are the whole warlike deeds of the majority and constitute what is called having seen service and grown grey in arms. “The reason why so many officers remain in a state of mediocrity, is because they neither know, nor trouble themselves to inquire into the causes either of their victories or defeats, although such causes are exceedingly real.” In this connection, writes Polybius, the friend and biographer of Hannibal: “Having made ourselves masters of the subject of Warfare, we shall no longer ascribe success to Fortune and blindly applaud mere conquerors, as the ignorant do; but we shall approve and condemn from Principle and Reason.” To the Chess-student nothing can be more conclusive than the following: “My success at Chess-play,” writes Paul Morphy, “is due to rigid adherence to fixed rules and Principles.” “Chess is best fought on Principles, free from all deception and trickery.”—Wilhelm Steinitz. GRAND RECONNAISSANCE “Man can sway the future, only by foreseeing through a clear understanding of the present, to what far off end matters are tending.”—Caesar. “From the erroneous ideas they form in regard to good and evil, the ignorant, the mis-educated and the inexperienced always act without precisely knowing what they ought to desire, or what they ought to fear; and it is not in the end they propose, but in the choice of means, that most deceive themselves.”—Aristotle. |