Articles by Karl Marx and Frederick Engels in Die Presse 1862
Source: MECW Volume 19, p.
186
Written: between March 7 and 22, 1862;
First published: in Die Presse, 85, March 26 and 27,
1862.
From whatever standpoint one regards it, the American Civil War presents a
spectacle without parallel in the annals of military history. The vast extent of
the disputed territory; the far-flung front of the lines of operation; the
numerical strength of the hostile armies, the creation of which hardly drew any
support from a prior organisational basis; the fabulous cost of these armies;
the manner of commanding them and the general tactical and strategic principles
in accordance with which the war is being waged, are all new in the eyes of the
European onlooker.
The secessionist conspiracy, organised, patronised and supported long before
its outbreak by Buchanan’s administration, gave the South a head-start, by which
alone it could hope to achieve its aim. Endangered by its slave population and
by a strong Unionist element among the whites themselves, with two-thirds less
free men than in the North, but readier to attack, thanks to the multitude of
adventurous idlers that it harbours — for the South everything depended on a
swift, bold, almost foolhardy offensive. If the Southerners succeeded in taking
St. Louis, Cincinnati, Washington, Baltimore, and perhaps Philadelphia, they
might then count on a panic, during which diplomacy and bribery could secure
recognition of the independence of all the slave states. If this first onslaught
failed, at least at the decisive points, their position must then become worse
from day to day, while the North was gaining in strength. This point was rightly
understood by the men who in truly Bonapartist spirit had organised the
secessionist conspiracy. They opened the campaign in the corresponding manner.
Their bands of adventurers overran Missouri and Tennessee, while their more
regular troops invaded eastern Virginia and prepared a coup
de main
against Washington. If this coup were to miscarry, the Southern campaign
was lost
from a military point of view.
The North came to the theatre of war reluctantly, sleepily, as was to be
expected considering its higher industrial and commercial development. The
social machinery there was far more complicated than in the South, and it
required far more time to get it moving in this unusual direction. The
enlistment of volunteers for three months was a great, but perhaps unavoidable
mistake. It was the policy of the North to remain on the defensive in the
beginning at all decisive points, to organise its forces, to train them through
operations on a small scale and without risk of decisive battles, and, as soon
as the organisation had become sufficiently strong and the traitorous element
had simultaneously been more or less removed from the army, to go on to an
energetic, unflagging offensive and, above all, to reconquer Kentucky,
Tennessee, Virginia, and North Carolina. The transformation of civilians into
soldiers was bound to take more time in the North than in the South. Once
effected, one could count on the individual superiority of the Northern men.
By and large, and allowing for the mistakes that arose more from political
than from military sources, the North acted in accordance with those principles.
The guerilla warfare in Missouri and West Virginia, while protecting the
Unionist population, accustomed the troops to field service and to fire without
exposing them to decisive defeats. The great disgrace of Bull Run was, to a
certain extent, the result of the earlier error of enlisting volunteers for
three months. It was absurd to let raw recruits attack a strong position, on
difficult terrain and having an enemy scarcely inferior in numbers. The panic,
which seized the Union army at the decisive moment, and the cause of which has
yet to be established could surprise no one who was at all familiar with the
history of people’s wars. Such things happened to the French troops very often
from 1792 to 1795; this did not, however, prevent these same troops from winning
the battles of Jemappes and Fleurus, Montenotte, Castiglione and Rivoli. The
only excuse for the silliness of the jests of the European press with
regard to the Bull Run panic is the previous bragging of a section of the North
American press.
The six months’ respite that followed the defeat at Manassas was utilised to
better advantage by the North than by the South. Not only were the Northern
ranks replenished in greater measure than the Southern ones. Their officers
received better instructions; the discipline and training of the troops did not
encounter the same obstacles as in the South. Traitors and incompetent
interlopers were increasingly removed, and the period of the Bull Run panic is a
thing of the past. The armies on both sides are naturally not to be measured by
the standard of the great European armies or even of the former regular army of
the United States. Napoleon could in fact train battalions of raw recruits in
the depots during the first month, have them on the march during the second and
during the third lead them against the enemy, but then every battalion received
a sufficient reinforcement of experienced officers and non-commissioned
officers, every company some old soldiers, and on the day of the battle the new
troops were brigaded together with veterans and, so to speak, framed by the
latter. All these conditions were lacking in America. Without the considerable
amount of people of military experience who had immigrated to America in
consequence of the European revolutionary unrest of 1848-49, the organisation of
the Union army would have required a much longer time still. The very small
number of killed and wounded in proportion to the total of the troops engaged
(usually one in every twenty) proves that most of the engagements, even the most
recent ones in Kentucky and Tennessee, were fought mainly with firearms at
fairly long range, and that the occasional bayonet charges either soon halted in
the face of enemy fire or put the adversary to flight before it came to a
hand-to-hand encounter. Meanwhile, the new campaign has been opened under more
favourable auspices with the successful
a advance of Buell and Halleck
through Kentucky and Tennessee.
After the reconquest of Missouri and West Virginia, the Union opened the
campaign with the advance on Kentucky. Here the secessionists held three strong
positions, fortified camps: Columbus on the Mississippi to their left, Bowling
Green in the centre, and Mill Springs on the Cumberland River to the right.
Their line stretched for 300 miles from west to east. The extent of this line
prevented the three corps from rendering each other support and offered the
Union troops the chance of attacking each individually with superior forces. The
great mistake in the disposition of the secessionists sprang from their attempt
to occupy all the ground.
A single fortified, strong central camp, chosen as the battlefield for a
decisive engagement and held by the main body of the army, would have defended
Kentucky far more effectively. It was bound either to attract the main force of
the Unionists or put them in a dangerous position, had they attempted to march
on, disregarding so strong a concentration of troops.
Under the given circumstances the Unionists resolved to attack those three
camps one after another, to manoeuvre their enemy out of them and force him to
fight in open country. This plan, which conformed to all the rules of the art of
war, was carried out with energy and dispatch. Towards the middle of January a
corps of about 15,000 Unionists marched on Mill Springs, which was held by
10,000 secessionists. The Unionists manoeuvred in a manner that led the enemy to
believe he only had to deal with a weak reconnoitring body. General Zollicoffer
at once fell into the trap, sallied from his fortified camp and attacked the
Unionists. He soon realised that a superior force confronted him. He fell and
his troops suffered as complete a defeat as the Unionists at Bull Run. This
time, however, the victory was exploited in quite another fashion. The defeated
army was hard pressed until it arrived broken, demoralised, without field
artillery or baggage, in its encampment at Mill Springs. This camp was pitched
on the north bank of the Cumberland River, so that in the event of another
defeat the troops had no retreat open to them save across the river by way of a
few steamers and river boats. We find in general that almost all the
secessionist camps were pitched on the
enemy side of the river. To take
up such a position is not only according to rule, but also very practical if
there is a bridge in the rear. In such a case, the encampment serves as the
bridgehead and gives its holders the chance of throwing their fighting forces at
will on both banks of the river and so maintaining complete command of these
banks. Without a bridge in the rear a camp on the enemy side of the river, on
the contrary, cuts off the retreat after an unsuccessful engagement and compels
the troops to capitulate, or exposes them to massacre and drowning, a fate that
befell the Unionists at Ball’s Bluff on the enemy side of the Potomac, whither
the treachery of General Stone had sent them.
When the beaten secessionists reached their camp at Mill Springs, they at
once understood that an enemy attack on their fortifications must be repulsed or
capitulation must follow in a very short time. After the experience of the
morning, they had lost confidence in their powers of resistance. Accordingly,
when the Unionists advanced to attack the camp next day, they found that the
enemy had taken advantage of the night to cross the river, leaving the camp, the
baggage, the artillery and stores behind him. In this way, the extreme right of
the secessionist line was pushed back to Tennessee, and east Kentucky, where the
mass of the population is hostile to the slaveholders’ party, was reconquered
for the Union.
At about the same time — towards the middle of January — the preparations for
dislodging the secessionists from Columbus and Bowling Green commenced. A strong
fleet of mortar vessels and ironclad gunboats was held in readiness, and the
news was spread in all directions that it was to serve as a convoy to a large
army marching along the Mississippi from Cairo to Memphis and New Orleans. All
the demonstrations on the Mississippi, however, were merely mock manoeuvres. At
the decisive moment, the gunboats were brought to the Ohio and thence to the
Tennessee, up which they sailed as far as Fort Henry. This place, together with
Fort Donelson on the Cumberland River, formed the second line of defence of the
secessionists in Tennessee. The position was well chosen, for in case of a
retreat beyond the Cumberland the latter river would have covered its front, the
Tennessee its left flank, while the narrow strip of land between the two rivers
was sufficiently covered by the two forts mentioned above. But the swift action
of the Unionists broke through even the second line before the left wing and the
centre of the first line had been attacked.
In the first week of February the Unionists’ gunboats appeared in front of
Fort Henry, which surrendered after a short bombardment. The garrison escaped to
Fort Donelson, since the land forces of the expedition were not strong enough to
encircle the spot. The gunboats now sailed down the Tennessee again, upstream to
the Ohio and thence up the Cumberland as far as Fort Donelson. A single gunboat
sailed boldly up the Tennessee through the very heart of the State of Tennessee,
skirting the State of Mississippi and pushing on as far as Florence in northern
Alabama, where a series of swamps and banks (known by the name of the Muscle
Shoals) prevented further navigation. The fact that a single gunboat made this
long voyage of at least 150 miles and then returned, without experiencing any
attack, proves that Union sentiment prevails along the river and will be very
useful to the Union troops should they push forward as far as that.
The. boat expedition on the Cumberland now combined its movements with those
of the land forces under generals Halleck and Grant. The secessionists at
Bowling Green were deceived over the movements of the Unionists. Accordingly
they remained quietly in their camp, while a week after the fall of Fort Henry,
Fort Donelson was surrounded on the land side by 40,000 Unionists and threatened
on the river side by a strong fleet of gunboats. Just as in the case of the camp
at Mill Springs and Fort Henry, the river lay beyond Fort Donelson, without a
bridge for retreat. It was the strongest place the Unionists had attacked up to
the present. The works had been carried out with greater care; moreover, the
place was capacious enough to accommodate the 20,000 men who occupied it. On the
first day of the attack the gunboats silenced the fire of the batteries trained
towards the river side and bombarded the interior of the defence works, while
the land troops drove back the enemy outposts and forced the main body of the
secessionists to seek shelter close under the guns of their own defence works.
On the second day, the gunboats, which had suffered severely the day before,
appear to have accomplished but little. The land troops, on the other hand, had
to fight a long and, in places, hard battle with the columns of the garrison,
which sought to break through the right wing of the enemy in order to secure
their line of retreat to Nashville. However, an energetic attack by the Unionist
right wing on the left wing of the secessionists and considerable reinforcements
received by the left wing of the Unionists decided the victory in favour of the
assailants. Various outworks had been stormed. The garrison, pressed back into
its inner lines of defence, without the chance of retreat and manifestly not in
a position to withstand an assault next morning, surrendered unconditionally on
the following day.
II
With Fort
Donelson the enemy’s artillery, baggage and military
stores fell into the hands of the Unionists; 13,000 secessionists surrendered on
the day of its capture ; 1,000 more the next day, and as soon as the advance
guard of the victors appeared before Clarksville, a town that lies further up
the Cumberland River, it opened its gates. Here, too, considerable supplies had
been accumulated for the secessionists.
The capture of Fort Donelson presents only
one riddle: the flight of
General Floyd with 5,000 men on the second day of the bombardment. These
fugitives were too numerous to be smuggled away in steamers during the night. If
certain precautions had been taken by the assailants, they could not have got
away.
Seven days after the surrender of Fort Donelson, Nashville was occupied by
the Federals. The distance between the two places is about 100 English miles,
and a march of 15 miles a day, on very bad roads and in the most unfavourable
season of the year, redounds to the honour of the Unionist troops. On receipt of
the news that Fort Donelson had fallen, the secessionists evacuated Bowling
Green; a week later, they abandoned Columbus and withdrew to a Mississippi
island, 45 miles south. Thus, Kentucky was completely reconquered for the Union.
Tennessee, however, can be held by the secessionists only if they give and win a
big battle. They are said in fact to have concentrated 65,000 men for this
purpose. Meanwhile, nothing prevents the Unionists from bringing a superior
force against them.
The leadership of the Kentucky campaign from Somerset to Nashville deserves
the highest praise. The reconquest of so extensive a territory, the advance from
the Ohio to the Cumberland in a single month, evidence energy, resolution and
speed such as have seldom been attained by regular armies in Europe.
One may compare, for example, the slow advance of the Allies from Magenta to
Solferino in 1859 — without pursuit of the retreating enemy, without endeavour
to cut off his stragglers or in any way to outflank and encircle whole bodies of
his troops.
Halleck and Grant, in particular, offer good examples of resolute military
leadership. Without the least regard either for Columbus or Bowling Green, they
concentrate their forces on the decisive points, Fort Henry and Fort Donelson,
launch a swift and energetic attack on these and precisely thereby render
Columbus and Bowling Green untenable. Then they march at once to Clarksville and
Nashville, without allowing the retreating secessionists time to take up new
positions in northern Tennessee. During this rapid pursuit the corps of
secessionist troops in Columbus remains completely cut off from the centre and
right wing of its army. The English papers have criticised this operation
unjustlyEven if the attack on Fort Donelson had failed, the secessionists kept
busy by General Buell at Bowling Green could not dispatch sufficient men to
enable the garrison to follow the repulsed Unionists into the open country or to
endanger their retreat. Columbus, on the other hand, lay so far off that it
could not interfere with Grant’s movements at all. In fact, after the Unionists
had cleared Missouri of the secessionists, Columbus became an entirely useless
post for the latter. The troops that formed its garrison had greatly to hasten
their retreat to Memphis or even to Arkansas in order to escape the danger of
ingloriously laying down their arms.
In consequence of the clearing of Missouri and the reconquest of Kentucky,
the theatre of war has so far narrowed that the different armies can co-operate
to a certain extent along the whole line of operations and work to achieve
definite results. In other words, for the first time the war is now assuming a
strategic character, and the geographical configuration of the country is
acquiring a new interest. It is now the task of the Northern generals to find
the Achilles’ heel of the cotton states.
Before the capture of Nashville, no concerted strategy between the army of
Kentucky and the army on the Potomac was possible. They were too far apart from
each other. They stood in the same front line, but their lines of operation were
entirely different. Only with the victorious advance into Tennessee did the
movements of the army of Kentucky become important for the entire theatre of
war.
The American papers influenced by McClellan are full of talk about the
“anaconda” envelopment plan. According to it, an immense line of armies is to
wind round the rebellion, gradually tighten its coils and finally strangle the
enemy. This is sheer childishness. It is a rehash of the so-called cordon
system... devised in Austria about 1770, which was employed against the French
from 1792 to 1797 with such great obstinacy and with such constant failure. At
Jemappes, Fleurus and, more especially, at Montenotte, Millesimo, Dego,
Castiglione and Rivoli, the final blow was dealt at this system. The French cut
the “anaconda” in two by attacking at a point where they had concentrated
superior forces. Then the coils of the “anaconda” were cut to pieces one after
another.
In densely populated and more or less centralised states there is always a
centre, with the occupation of which by the enemy the national resistance would
be broken. Paris is a brilliant example. The slave states, however, possess no
such centre. They are sparsely populated, with few large towns and all these on
the seacoast. The question therefore arises: Does a military centre of gravity
nevertheless exist, with the capture of which the backbone of their resistance
will be broken, or are they, just as Russia still was in 1812, not to be
conquered without occupying every village and every plot of land, in short, the
entire periphery?
Cast a glance at the geographical shape of the secessionists’ territory, with
its long stretch of coast on the Atlantic Ocean and its long stretch of coast on
the Gulf of Mexico. So long as the Confederates held Kentucky and Tennessee, the
whole formed a great compact mass. The loss of both these states drives an
enormous wedge into their territory, separating the states on the North Atlantic
Ocean from the States on the Gulf of Mexico. The direct route from Virginia and
the two Carolinas to Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi and even, in part, to Alabama
leads through Tennessee, which is now occupied by the Unionists. The
sole
route that, after the complete conquest of Tennessee by the Union, connects
the two sections of the slave states goes through Georgia. This proves that
Georgia is the key to the secessionists’ territory. With the loss of
Georgia the Confederacy would be cut into two sections, which would have lost
all connection with one another. A reconquest of Georgia by the secessionists,
however, would be almost unthinkable, for the Unionist fighting forces would be
concentrated in a central position, while their adversaries, divided into two
camps, would have scarcely sufficient forces to put in the field for a joint
attack.
Would the conquest of all Georgia, with the seacoast of Florida, be required
for such an operation? By no means. In a land where communication, particularly
between distant points, depends much more on railways than on highways, the
seizure of the railways is sufficient. The southernmost railway line between the
States on the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic coast goes through Macon and
Gordon near Milledgeville.
The occupation of these two points would accordingly cut the secessionists’
territory in two and enable the Unionists to beat one part after another. At the
same time, one gathers from the above that no Southern republic is viable
without the possession of Tennessee. Without Tennessee, Georgia’s vital spot
lies only eight or ten days’ march from the frontier; the North would constantly
have its hand at the throat of the South, and, at the slightest pressure, the
South would have to yield or fight for its life anew, under circumstances in
which a single defeat would cut off every prospect of success.
From the foregoing considerations it follows:
The Potomac is
not the most important position in the war theatre.
The seizure of Richmond and the advance of the Potomac army further south —
difficult on account of the many rivers that cut across the line of march -could
produce a tremendous moral effect. From a purely military standpoint, they would
decide
nothing.
The outcome of the campaign depends on the Kentucky army, now in Tennessee.
On the one hand, this army is nearest to the decisive points; on the other hand,
it occupies a territory without which secession cannot survive. This army would
accordingly have to be strengthened at the expense of all the rest and the
sacrifice of all minor operations. Its next points of attack would be
Chattanooga and Dalton on the Upper Tennessee, the most important railway
junctions of the entire South. After their occupation, the link between the
eastern and western states of
Secessia would be limited to the lines of
communication in Georgia. The further problem would then be to cut off another
railway line, with Atlanta and Georgia, and finally to destroy the last link
between the two sections by the capture of Macon and Gordon.
On the contrary, should the anaconda plan be followed, then, despite all the
successes gained at particular points and even on the Potomac, the war may be
prolonged indefinitely, while the financial difficulties together with
diplomatic complications acquire fresh scope.
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