The British army, in the war of the American Revolution, must have been most wretchedly ignorant of these leading maxims for conducting offensive war.  Instead of concentrating their forces on some decisive point, and then destroying the main body of our army by repeated and well-directed blows, they scattered their forces over an immense extent of country, and became too weak to act with decision and effect on any one point.  On the other hand, this policy enabled us to call out and discipline our scattered and ill-provided forces.

The main object in defensive war is, to protect the menaced territory, to retard the enemy’s progress, to multiply obstacles in his way, to guard the vital points of the country, and—­at the favorable moment, when the enemy becomes enfeebled by detachments, losses, privations, and fatigue—­to assume the offensive, and drive him from the country.  This combination of the defensive and offensive has many advantages.  The enemy, being forced to take the defensive in his turn, loses much of the moral superiority due to successful offensive operations.  There are numerous instances of this kind of war, “the defensive-offensive,” as it is sometimes called, to be found in history.  The last four campaigns of Frederick the Great of Prussia, are examples which may serve as models.  Wellington played a similar part in the Spanish peninsula.

To merely remain in a defensive attitude, yielding gradually to the advances of the enemy, without any effort to regain such positions or provinces as may have fallen into his power, or to inflict on him some fatal and decisive blow on the first favorable opportunity; such a system is always within the reach of ignorance, stupidity, and cowardice; but such is far from being the true Fabian system of defensive war.

“Instead of finding security only in flight; instead of habitually refusing to look the enemy in the face; instead of leaving his march undisturbed; instead of abandoning, without contest, points strong by nature or by art;—­instead of all this, the true war of defence seeks every occasion to meet the enemy, and loses none by which it can annoy or defeat him; it is always awake; it is constantly in motion, and never unprepared for either attack or defence.  When not employed in efforts of courage or address, it incessantly yields itself to those of labor and science.  In its front it breaks up roads or breaks down bridges; while it erects or repairs those in its rear:  it forms abbatis, raises batteries, fortifies passes, or intrenches encampments; and to the system of deprivation adds all the activity, stratagem, and boldness of la petite guerre.  Dividing itself into detachments, it multiplies its own attacks and the alarms of the enemy.  Collecting itself at a single point, it obstructs his progress for days, and sometimes for weeks together.  Does it even abandon the avenues it is destined to defend?  It is but for the purpose of shielding them more securely, by the attack of his hospitals, magazines, convoys, or reinforcements.  In a word, by adopting the maxim, that the enemy must be made to pay for whatever he gains, it disputes with him every inch of ground, and if at last it yields to him a victory, it is of that kind which calls forth only his sighs.”