Strategicus

Onasander

Translated by Thothica

1 hr 30 min

Preface

To dedicate treatises on horsemanship, or hunting, or fishing, or farming to men who long to be engaged in such pursuits is, I think, fitting; but a study of the art of generalship, Quintus Veranius, belongs to the Romans, and most of all to those Romans who have been allotted the rank of the senatorial aristocracy and who, by the wisdom of Augustus Caesar, are adorned with consular and praetorian authority, both because of an education in which they have no small experience, and because of the dignity of their ancestors.
I have dedicated this treatise to them first not as men inexperienced in generalship, but emboldened most of all by this consideration: that an ignorant mind fails to recognize even what another man does well, whereas knowledge bears witness in favour of what is rightly done.
Therefore, even if what I have composed should appear to many to be matter already familiar, I would on that very account take pleasure, since I have not merely set down precepts of generalship but have also aimed at the art of generalship and the practical wisdom that lies within these matters; and I should count myself fortunate if I were judged by such men to be capable of comprehending in words those things which the Romans have accomplished by their power and through their deeds.
As for the treatise, it remains for me to say with confidence that it will serve both as a training for good generals and as an offering to commanders of old in this hallowed peace; and we shall learn, if nothing else, for what cause those generals who stumbled came to grief, and those who prospered rose to glory. Above all we shall reflect upon the valour of the Romans, since neither king nor city nor nation ever secured a greater extent of empire, nor even attained an equal one, so as to establish an unshaken dominion through so long a span of years.
For it is not by fortune, it seems to me, that, passing beyond the bounds of Italy, they extended their rule to the ends of the earth, but by generalship. One ought indeed to pray that fortune too may lend a hand, but not to suppose that she rules everything absolutely.
Foolish are those who lay the blame for failures upon fortune alone, and not upon the carelessness of the generals, and who attribute successes to her, and not to the experience of the commanders. For it is neither fair to leave the man who fails utterly so free of censure as to blame fortune for everything, nor just to pass over the man who succeeds, leaving him so far without the witness of praise as to ascribe the whole of the credit to fortune.
Since by nature all men assign credence and truth to those who are thought to compose from experience, even if the account is delivered feebly, but distrust the inexperienced, even when what they say is practicable, because it is untested, I think it necessary to say this much by way of preface concerning the stratagems gathered in this treatise: that they have all passed through the trial of deeds, and at the hands of such men as the whole Roman race, foremost to this day in birth and in valour, has for its ancestors.
For this treatise contains nothing improvised out of an unwarlike and untried judgement, but everything has come through actions and real struggles, and most of all those of the Romans; for both the things they did to guard themselves against suffering, and the devices by which they contrived to act, all have been gathered together by me.
And yet I am not unaware that a man would rather have it appear that all the stratagems are his own and the fruit of his own sagacity, hunting greater praise from those who believe him, than that they should seem to come from another's invention. But I do not think I am the worse for this.
For just as, if a man who had himself served in wars composed such a treatise, he would not on that account be thought worthy of less credit, because he brought in not only his own discoveries of stratagems devised by natural shrewdness, but also brought into his work, by recording them in memory, the things well done by others, so I too do not think I shall carry off less praise on the ground that I do not claim everything for my own intelligence. On the contrary, I have assumed beforehand that my praise will be free from envy and my credit safe from slander.

Chapter 1

I say, then, that we should choose the general not by judging by birth, as we choose priests, nor by wealth, as we choose the masters of the gymnasium, but as a man self-controlled, temperate, vigilant, frugal, hardened to labour, intelligent, free from the love of money, neither young nor old, the father of children if it so happen, capable of speaking, and of good repute.
Self-controlled, that he may not, drawn aside by natural pleasures, abandon his care for matters of the greatest moment.
Temperate, since he is about to attain so great a command; for undisciplined impulses, once they acquire the power to do as they please, become uncontrollable in their desires.
Vigilant, that he may keep watch over the greatest undertakings; for it is mostly by night, when the soul is at rest, that a general's plan is brought to completion.
Frugal, since lavish attendance wastes him away, consuming time fruitlessly upon the luxury of commanders.
Hardened to labour, that he may be not the first but the last of the army to grow weary.
Intelligent; for the general must be quick, darting at everything with swiftness of mind, like Homer's "wing or thought"; for often unexpected disturbances fall upon him and compel him to improvise what is advantageous.
Free from the love of money; for this freedom from avarice will be tested, and tested first; for it is the chief cause of presiding over affairs uncorrupted by bribes and with greatness of spirit. For many men, even though through courage they look unflinching upon a host of shields and spears, are dimmed at the sight of gold; for this is a terrible weapon for an enemy, and effective for victory.
Neither young nor old, since the one is untrustworthy and the other weak; for neither is safe—the young man, lest he stumble through some unreasoning rashness, the old man, lest he fall short through natural weakness.
The best choice is the man of middle years; for vigour is found in one not yet grown old, and prudence in one not too youthful, since those who have approved either bodily strength without an intelligent mind, or a prudent mind without bodily vigour, have accomplished nothing; for prudence that comes too late has conceived nothing better, and power that falls short has brought nothing to completion.
The man of good repute, moreover, has done his electors no small service; for whomever men love by a spontaneous movement of the mind, him they quickly obey when he commands, do not distrust when he speaks, and join in his struggles when he runs into danger.
I have given preference to the father, yet without rejecting the childless man, if he be good. For if his children happen to be infants, they are strong charms of the soul, able to give the general as a pledge of goodwill toward his country—sharp and keen spurs of a father, fit to rouse his spirit against the enemy; and if they are grown, they become his counsellors and fellow-generals and trusted servants of his secrets, and help him to bring the common affairs to a good end.
Capable of speaking; for from this, I think, the greatest benefit will come to an army. For if the general draws up his men for battle, the exhortation of his speech makes them despise dangers and long for noble deeds; and the trumpet sounding in their ears does not so rouse souls to the contest of battle as a speech delivered to urge on valour in the struggle has roused the spirited mind to face dangers. And if some reverse befalls the camp, the consolation of a speech revives their souls; and far more useful is a general's speech, if it be not powerless to comfort the disasters that come upon armies, than the physicians who attend the wounded.
For they heal only the wounded with their drugs, but he has both made the suffering more cheerful and raised up the strong.
And just as unseen sicknesses are harder to cure than visible ones, so it is more difficult to heal souls fallen into despondency by consoling them with a speech than to cure a visible, surface ailment of the body.
No city will send out an army without generals, nor will it choose a general who lacks the power of speech.
He must be of good repute, because the multitude chafes at being subject to the disreputable; for no one willingly submits to taking as his master and commander a man worse than himself.
And it is altogether necessary that a man who is such, and has so many virtues of soul as I have named, should also be of good repute.
I say, moreover, that the rich man, if he be lacking in these qualities, is not to be chosen general because of his money, nor the poor man, if he be good, to be rejected because of his poverty; and indeed we should choose neither the poor man nor the rich man as such, but both rich and poor alike. For neither is to be chosen or rejected because of his fortune, but to be tested by his character.
Nor will a good rich man so far surpass a noble poor man as silvered and gilded suits of armour surpass those of bronze and iron—for the one excel in ornament, the others contend by their very effectiveness—provided he be not a money-getter; but the money-getter, even though he should happen to be the richest of men, I shall never advise choosing. By money-getter I mean the usurer, the petty trader, the merchant, or those who do anything like these things; for such men must of necessity be small-minded, fluttered about gain and consumed with anxiety over the acquisition of money, and so have had no part at all in noble pursuits.
As for a brilliant ancestral reputation, one ought to value it when it is present, but not to require it when it is absent, nor to judge men worthy or unworthy of generalship on this ground; but just as we examine animals by their own performances, to see how they stand in respect of good breeding, so ought we to consider the good breeding of men.
For it is heedless to examine what fine thing was done by men of former times, and not what the men now chosen will do, as though those of long ago could save us in the present, and they in turn would guard the deeds of the past. And again, how is it not ignorant to honour soldiers with prizes of valour—not those who come of brilliant fathers, but those who have themselves done some noble deed—yet to choose generals because of their ancestors, even if they are useless, and not because of their own valour, even if they are not distinguished by birth?
If indeed these qualities are joined to noble descent, the general is fortunate; but if they are absent, then, even if noble birth be present, he is ineffective.
One might perhaps even hope that those generals will prove the better who have no ancestors to boast of; for those who plume themselves on their fathers, even if they fall short, supposing that the glory inherited from their forebears is preserved for them, manage many things rather carelessly; whereas those who have no ancestral fame already in store, wishing to make up for the deficiency from their fathers by their own zeal, contend more eagerly and with greater readiness for danger in their undertakings.
And just as the poorer set out upon the acquisition of a livelihood with more toil than the well-to-do, hastening to make up the deficiency of fortune, so those to whom it is not given to draw upon an inherited fame from their fathers choose to make virtue their own private possession.

Chapter 2

Let the good general, then, be envied if he is also nobly born and rich, but let not the poor man with virtue be rejected, even if he is not of brilliant stock.
Once chosen, let the general be honest, affable, ready, unflustered, neither so lenient as to be despised nor so terrible as to be hated, that he may neither relax the army by indulgences nor estrange it by terrors.
Let him appoint captains and tribunes and commanders of a thousand, and any other officers he may think he needs, choosing those most loyal to their country, most trustworthy, most vigorous; and after these qualities nothing prevents his choosing also the richest and the best-born.
For it is not the same with these as with generals: since few generals are chosen, it is easier to test them by character, even if the weight of wealth combined with noble birth be lacking; but it is not so with the multitude of captains and company-commanders.
Therefore among these, noble birth is to be preferred, as ready for a swift judgement at a critical moment, and so is wealth, since those who have abundance are able both to spend and to give to the soldiers; and even a small bounty from the commanders makes the multitude more loyal toward their leaders. And the pledges given in greater matters are surer for those who hazard much, unless a man can provide the proof of his trustworthiness, as a general might, from his own character.

Chapter 3

Let him choose either counsellors who will share with him in all deliberation and take part in his judgement, men who attend him for this very purpose, or let him summon the most honoured of the officers themselves and take counsel with them; for whatever a man has thought out alone, as his own, he does not securely make his own.
For a judgement that is unaided and left to itself peers anxiously about its own discovery, whereas one confirmed by the testimony of those near at hand is made trustworthy as being free from danger.
Yet let him be neither so unstable in mind as to distrust himself altogether, nor so self-willed as not to think that something better than his own thought may be conceived by another; for such a man must either, attending to everyone and nothing to himself, do much that is disadvantageous, or, listening little to others and trusting wholly to himself, fall into many grave errors.

Chapter 4

I say that the beginnings of war should above all be undertaken prudently, and that one should make it plain to all that he goes to war with justice on his side; for then the gods too become favourable allies to the soldiers, and men oppose the dangers more readily.
For knowing that they are not the aggressors but the defenders, with souls conscious of no wrong, they bring to the field their courage entire; whereas those who believe that the divine power will be angered at their waging an unjust war, by that very conviction—even if no danger should come to meet them from the enemy—are seized beforehand with dread.
For this reason the general should, by speech and by embassies, first make demands both of what he wishes to obtain and of what he will not yield, so that, by their refusal to concede what is demanded, the enemy may appear to compel him, and that he may seem to lead out his force to war not by his own choice; and he should call the divine power to witness that he advances without offence, neither despising what those who go to war are wont to suffer, nor having resolved by every means to do the enemy harm.
One must know that, just as the foundation of a house or a wall ought to be laid more firmly, since, if it is weak, what is built upon it will collapse with it, so too one ought to lay the beginnings of war strongly and set about them a secure base, and so lead out his forces; for those whose affairs are weak at the foundation, when once they take up the great burden of war, are quickly oppressed and fall behind.
Therefore, just as a good helmsman, when he has fitted out his vessel from the harbour and done everything in his own power, must then entrust the rest to fortune, so it is most disgraceful and perilous, after having set war in motion, so as to lead an army already by sea and by land, then to back water.
For everyone laughs at his folly and rashness, and despises his weakness, and his enemies, whoever they may be, even if they suffer no harm, justly hate him as men who were not unwilling but unable to do them some injury.

Chapter 5

Let the general lead out his forces purified, by whatever purifications the sacred laws or the seers prescribe, expelling every public defilement and every private pollution that cleaves to each man.

Chapter 6

Let him lead the whole army in formation, even if he is not yet about to engage, but is crossing by a long road and accomplishing a march of many days, both in friendly and in hostile territory: through the friendly, that the troops may be accustomed to keep their ranks and to hold together their own companies and to follow their leaders; through the hostile, against the sudden ambushes that occur, lest at a critical moment, thrown into confusion and running about, and rushing one against another, they accomplish nothing, being caught off guard, and suffer many grievous things, but rather may be at once well disposed for marching and ready for battle, having the watchword and keeping one another in sight in their ranks.
Let him try to compress the march of the army into as small a compass as possible, and, if it can be done, let him lead his ranks through such ground that they may not be squeezed together into a narrow column nor, lacking breadth, be drawn out to a great length on the flank.
For such columns become more vulnerable to the sudden appearances of the enemy and least effective. For if the enemy meet them in front, drawn up in greater breadth, they easily rout them, as men in battle surround those who are on a wing; and if they attack the centre of the force from the flank, they quickly tear apart and cut through the column—for when these wheel into a phalanx to defend themselves, the fight becomes weak and lacks depth—and if they attack the rear, the fighting in the rear is terrible and carries evident destruction; and even if they dare to wheel into a front, the same battle befalls them as those drawn up in the van; for the enemy quickly surround them.
It also happens that reinforcements become difficult and ineffectual; for when those in the rear wish to help those in the van, or those in front to help those behind, their arrival is slow and ill-timed, since they are eager to march through many stadia by which they are behind or in front.
But a compact column, square and not too long, is in every situation easy to handle and safe. And there have been times when something of this kind has happened from over-extended armies, so that panics and confused alarms fall upon them; for sometimes the foremost, having come down from the hills into bare and level country, on seeing those behind descending after them, took them for an enemy's onset, so that they were on the point of attacking them as foes, and some even came to blows.
Let him keep the servants and the baggage-animals and all the baggage in the midst of the force, and not apart; and if he does not consider the rear quite safe and at peace, let him compose the rearguard also of the strongest and bravest men, thinking it differs in nothing, with regard to what may happen, from the van.
Let him send forward cavalry to reconnoitre the roads, and especially when he is passing through wooded wastes broken by hills; for often ambushes of the enemy lie hidden, and when unseen they have sometimes shattered the whole fortunes of their opponents, but when not unseen, by a little forethought they have borne witness to the great prudence of the enemy general.
The plain and open ground a general view is enough to reconnoitre; for the dust rising by day has betrayed the enemy's advance, and fires burning by night have signalled a camp near at hand.
Let him lead his forces, if he is not about to draw them up for battle, even by night, should there be some need to forestall the enemy more swiftly and he think it safe; but if he intends to decide matters by battle the moment they come within sight of the enemy, let him advance slowly and not cover much ground; for often, before the dangers, fatigue has wasted away the vigour of the men's bodies.
When marching through allied territory, let him order the troops to keep their hands off the land, and neither carry anything away nor lay it waste; for every armed multitude is reckless when it has the power to do as it pleases, and the near sight of good things lures the thoughtless on to greed; and small pretexts have either alienated allies or even turned them altogether into enemies.
But let him ravage and burn and cut down the enemy's land; for loss of money and dearth of crops diminish war, as abundance feeds it. Yet let him first hold over them as a threat what he means to do; for often the expectation of a coming evil has compelled men in danger, before they suffer, to promise something which they had previously refused to do; but once they have suffered, supposing they will see nothing worse, they make light of the rest.
But if he intends to encamp a long time in the enemy's country, let him destroy of the land all such things as he himself will have no use for, but spare those things which, if preserved, will be necessary for his friends.
When his forces have been brought up to full strength, let him not linger encamped in his own land, nor in subject land, nor in allied land; for he will use up his own crops and harm his friends more than his enemies. Let him move his forces away as quickly as possible, if matters at home are without danger; for from the enemy's land, if it be rich and prosperous, he will have abundant supplies, and if not, he will at least do no harm to the friendly land, and even from a wretched foreign country he will have many advantages.
Let him take thought for the market and for the convoy of merchants both by land and by sea, that, their coming being free from danger, they may without hesitation bring up their freight of provisions.

Chapter 7

Whenever he is about to make his passage through narrows, or to lead his army through mountainous and difficult country, it is necessary, by sending forward some part of the force, to seize beforehand both the passes and the entrances of the defiles, lest the enemy forestall him and, occupying the heights, prevent the army from making its way through.
The same care is to be taken if he himself fears an invasion of the enemy; for surely it is not useful to act and yet unnecessary to guard against suffering, nor urgent to forestall them when they invade hostile territory while leaving unconsidered how to shut out the enemy advancing against himself.

Chapter 8

When encamping in the enemy's country, let him throw round a palisade and a ditch, even if he intends to set up his camp for but a day; for such a camp is free from regret and safe against the sudden and unexpected assaults. Let him post sentries, even if he believes the enemy far off, as though they were near.
Wherever he intends to set up his camp for a long time, the enemy not coming out against him—either making his stay for the purpose of ravaging the country, or watching for better opportunities—let him choose ground that is not marshy nor damp; for such places, by their exhalations and the foul smells from the ground, bring sicknesses and plagues upon armies, and have impaired the good health of many and destroyed many, so as to leave an army not merely small but also weak.

Chapter 9

It is useful too, and a means of safety to an army, not to remain in the same camp, unless it be wintering and the camp has, because of the season, become as it were a city with its tents; for the discharges of the body's necessities, taking place in the same spots, send up corrupted vapours and alter even the quality of the surrounding air.
In the winter quarters let him exercise the troops and make them warlike and at home with hardships, allowing them neither to be idle nor to grow slack; for idleness has rendered bodies soft and weak, and slackness has made souls unmanly and cowardly; for pleasures, alluring by their daily familiarity, corrupt the desires even of the most stout-hearted.
Therefore let him not lead the men far from their toils; for when after an interval they are compelled to go to warlike work, they neither go out gladly nor hold out long, but, grown soft in their way of life, they quickly take fright before they have even tried the dangers, and quickly, even after trying them, withdraw, being able neither to hope for nor to endure the perils.

Chapter 10

Therefore it is the part of a good general to provide useful things at the time when the necessities of pitched battle are not pressing, and to impose even useless tasks for the sake of bodily exercise. For armies, even if exceedingly worn out, find rest enough in the trial that is not through real dangers leading to the actual contest. Let him exercise them in some such ways as follow.
Let him first draw them up, distributing the arms to all, that it may be a matter of practice for them to keep their ranks, and that they may become familiar with one another by face and by name—who is under whom, and where, and after how many—and let him teach the extensions and contractions and the wheelings to left and to right, and the shifting of companies, and intervals and closings-up, and the passing-out and passing-in of one through another, and the dividing into companies, and the bringing-down, and the deployment into line and the contraction into depth, and the double-fronted battle, when those in the rear wheel about and fight against the encircling enemy, and let him teach the recalls.
For just as, in the case of musical instruments, those who are beginning to learn place their fingers upon the holes of the pipes and the intervals of the strings, and often set one finger on one note and another on another, not according to the harmonic interval, then, having with difficulty stretched them out, slowly raise their fingers and slowly set them down; whereas those practised in music, with a hand now effortlessly attuned to rhythm, transfer them swiftly wherever they wish—to check the breath, or to open it, or to pluck a string—so it is that those unaccustomed and untrained in formation, amid much confusion and scarcely avoiding collision with one another, fall into their places, consuming much time, whereas those well drilled move to their formation swiftly, as if of themselves, filling out a harmonious and beautiful sight.
Then, dividing the troops, let him bring them together against one another in a battle without iron, giving out reed-stalks or the butt-ends of javelins; and if there be any fields full of clods, let him bid them pick up clods and throw them; and let those who have ox-hide thongs use them for the fight; and showing them hills or mounds or steep places, let him order these to be seized at a run; and sometimes, stationing some of the soldiers upon them and giving out the weapons I mentioned a little before, let him send others out to drive these from their position; and let him praise either those who held their ground and were not driven off, or those who drove them off.
For from such practice and exercise the army keeps healthy, and eats and drinks whatever is at hand with greater pleasure, even if it be plain, seeking nothing more costly; for the hunger and thirst that come of toil are relish enough and a sweet draught; and their bodies become firmer and tireless, and they grow accustomed to coming hardships, being trained amid sweat and breathlessness and panting, and in shadeless heat and open-air frost.
Let him likewise exercise the cavalry, holding races and pursuits and skirmishes and exchanges of missiles on the level ground and at the very roots of the hills, as far as it is possible to touch even upon rough ground; for it is not possible to force a way up steep slopes or to ride down sheer descents.
Let him be discreet about foraging parties, and not allow his forces, when he has invaded a prosperous enemy country, to scatter in disorder after the plunder; for the greatest disasters arise even from such occasions. For often the enemy, falling upon men disordered and scattered and excited about the booty, have destroyed many of them, both because of the disorder of the multitude and because those withdrawing are weighed down by their plunder, unable either to use their arms or to come to one another's aid.
If any forage without the general's orders, let these be punished. As for himself, whenever he sends men out for plunder, let him join to the light-armed and unarmed some warlike cavalry and infantry, who will not busy themselves with the booty, but, remaining in formation, will guard the foragers, that their withdrawal may be safe.
If ever he take spies, let him not follow a single rule: but if he thinks his own affairs weaker than the enemy's, let him kill them; if he is provided with fine equipment and complete preparations and a large force and bodies in good condition and an obedient army and the best of officers and well-practised experience, let him take the spies and, after displaying his army in good order, he would do no wrong to send them away unharmed. For when the advantages of the enemy are reported, they compel fear; but their deficiencies inspire confidence.
Let him post sentries, and many of them, that, dividing the hours of the night among themselves in turn, some may sleep and some keep watch; for one must neither compel the same men to keep awake the whole night, nor trust them when they promise to do so; for it is likely that at some time, even against their will, when their limbs give way, sleep may come of itself.
Let them keep watch standing upright; for sitting and reclining, by relaxing the body, lull it toward sleep, whereas standing erect and the tension of the legs put wakefulness into the mind.
Let the sentries burn fires farther off from the camp; for thus they will see those who approach from afar by the light, while they themselves, being in the dark away from the light, will not be discerned until the others come to close quarters.
If at any time he wishes to break camp by night without the enemy's knowledge—either purposing to seize positions beforehand, or fleeing those he holds, or as yet unwilling to come to the necessity of fighting—let him withdraw after burning many fires; for the enemy, seeing the lights, suppose that he remains in his place, but if the camp meanwhile becomes unlighted, they take up a suspicion that they are fleeing, and send out ambushes beforehand and pursue.
If, while remaining in the same place, he ever comes into the presence of the enemy's general to confer with him, wishing either to say or to hear something, let him pick out the strongest and most distinguished of the young men, vigorous, handsome, tall, and, having adorned them with splendid arms and keeping them about himself, let him go to meet him; for often the whole has been inferred from a part that was seen, and the general was persuaded what he must do not from what he heard, but took fright from what he saw.
Of deserters, if any come to disclose a fitting time, or an hour for an attack, or undertake to guide a road and to lead through paths unseen by the enemy, let him take them in bonds and lead them, making it plain to them that, if they speak the truth and do all for the safety and victory of the army, he will release them and give them worthy gifts; but if they deceive and lie, wishing to put the army into the hands of their own people, then at that very moment, being in bonds, they shall be slaughtered by the men in danger; for this is the surest pledge of a deserter who discloses something, that he is not master of his own life, but rather those whom he guides.
Let him also observe the enemy's camp with experience; for he must neither, if he see it lying in a plain and in a circle, small in circumference and contracted in its palisade, suppose the enemy to be few—for every circle presents a smaller appearance of figure than the view that is reckoned in due proportion by solid measurement, and the breadth enclosed within it can contain more men than one would conjecture by sight—nor, if the sides of the palisade extend to a length and are in some part narrow, or crooked and many-angled and sharp-angled, let him expect a great multitude; for the appearance of the encampment seems large, but it does not by any means contain more men enclosed within it than those bounded by a circle.
The palisades on the mountains and hills, unless they are everywhere continuous, appear larger than those on level ground, but contain fewer men than the sight would suggest; for many parts within are left empty of men; for in such places there must of necessity be many pits, and many precipitous and rough and untentable places, while the palisade, being set before the men, reasonably extends in length.
Let him therefore neither, when he sees it small and contracted, despise it, reckoning both the ground and the figure, nor, if it is also long, be dismayed.
Knowing these things, however, let him at some time employ a well-timed piece of generalship. Having encamped in a small space according to the aforesaid figure, and, if need be, having even compressed his army, let him not lead it out nor display it to those encamped against him, and even when challenged to battle let him not lead it out; let him even seem to be afraid.
For often the enemy, despising their opponents as few, judging matters by sight and not by generalship's experience, have conducted themselves more carelessly, advancing from their own camp unguarded and in disorder, as though the enemy would not dare to come out against them, or they surround the palisade and besiege it, unexpecting the multitude that is about to pour out; and the unexpectedness of the danger made the soldiers more careless. There he must seize the opportunity and, rushing out through many gates of the palisade in good order, bravely lay hold of the situation before him.
He who knows how to play the general thus will know also, even if he is outgeneralled by the enemy in the same circumstances, both how to do something prudently and how to be forethoughtful in guarding himself; for from those very things by which he himself will know what he must do, he will recognize, when another does them, what he must not suffer; for one's own experiences in inflicting harm enable one to conjecture also the designs of his neighbours.
If he must advance, by night or by day, for some secret purpose—to seize a fort or a city or heights or passes, or to do some one of the other things which, accomplished swiftly and unknown to the enemy, can otherwise not be done—let him tell no one either against what or to do what he is leading the army, unless he thinks it necessary to inform some of the officers beforehand.
When he has come to the very place, the moment for action being near, let him give the order and signify what must be done; and let this be quick and within a short space of time; for the officers hear and those under them know at the same moment.
Foolish and ineffectual is he who communicates the undertaking to the multitude before the proper time; for the wicked desert especially at such times, in which, thinking that by saying and disclosing something they will obtain honour and reward from the enemy; and there is no army from which, both slaves and free, men do not run off to one another on many pretexts, which war must of necessity furnish.
Let him neither lead the army out to march nor draw it up for battle without first sacrificing; let there attend him sacrificers and seers. Best of all is for him to be able himself to examine the sacrifices with experience; and it is very easy to learn this quickly and to become himself a good counsellor to himself.
When the sacrifices are favourable, let him begin every undertaking, and let him call all the officers to the sight of the victims, that, having seen them, they may bid those under them be of good courage, reporting that the gods command them to fight; for the forces take great heart when they think they go out against the dangers with the gods' consent; for they themselves, each privately, watch closely and observe both signs and voices, and the favourable sacrifice on behalf of all has revived even those who privately were despondent.
If, on the contrary, the sacrifices turn out unfavourable, let him remain where he is, and, even if something presses hard, let him endure every inconvenience—for he can suffer nothing worse than what the divine power foretells—since, if anything better than the present is to come, the sacrifices must of necessity become favourable; but let him sacrifice often on the same day; for a single hour and a moment of time has either harmed those who acted too soon or those who acted too late.
And it seems to me that the art of divination by entrails foreshows, through their varied appearance, the movements of the stars in the heavens, their risings and settings, and the inclinations of figures—triangular and quadrangular and diametrical—whose slight differences, both in their powers and in their influences, in a single day, or rather in a single hour, have made both kings and captives.

Chapter 11

Since often, when men sacrifice, the victims are favourable as for a battle, yet through that battle sometimes foreshow the whole destruction of armies, I think it most necessary to speak about this.
For it has come about that throughout the whole inhabited world there are many and various kinds of places, and it is unclear in what sort each will do battle; and men have experience of their own country,
but do not know a foreign land. Often, if a general, hearing that the enemy are a day's march away, breaks camp and leads his army, hastening to come to battle with the enemy, while they withdraw on purpose and do not stand, as though in dread, he follows; and when they keep doing the same thing, until they come to difficult ground and places enclosed by mountains, he presses on, suspecting nothing, then, having plunged into such places, he is shut off by the enemy from the entrance by which the army came in; and they, having seized both the passages forward and held all the heights round about, as in some hunting-net have bound the enemy fast; while he, advancing, was carried on by his impetus, thinking that he was pressing upon a foe avoiding battle, whom on approaching he did not recognize; but afterwards, looking round about him—before and behind and on the flank—and seeing all full of enemies, he was either shot down together with his army, or, unable to fight his way out and refusing to surrender, destroyed all by famine, or, surrendering, made the enemy masters to dispose of them as they would.
One must therefore be suspicious of the enemy's withdrawals and not follow without judgement; one should look about at the ground more than at the enemy, and watch the country through which he is leading, and reckon that he must return again by the same way; and either not invade at all, but turn aside from the march, or, while invading, look ahead, and leave men to guard the heights and the connecting ridges of the mountains, that his return may be safe.
Let this be said both for the sake of so outgeneralling the enemy and of not being outgeneralled; for it is fine to be able thus to take the enemy, but necessary not to be taken.
Let him admit also everyone who wishes to report anything—slave and free, by night and by day, on the march and in camp, while resting and at the bath and at his meal; for those who put men off and are hard of access, and bid their attendants turn back those who approach, naturally miss many great opportunities, or, growing slack in everything, come to grief; for often, at a critical moment, some come to disclose what can be forestalled.

Chapter 12

When encamped opposite the enemy's palisade, let him not neglect the timely taking of the morning meal; for if he considers that it lies with himself to draw up the army for battle when he wishes, and whenever he pleases, let him order his forces to take their meal; but if he happens to have come into such necessity—through the nature of the ground, or weakness of the palisade, or some other causes—that it is left to the enemy to lead out their forces whenever they choose and to impose upon him the necessity of taking up arms and drawing up in opposition, let him not hesitate to give the signal for the morning meal even at dawn, lest the enemy forestall him and lay upon him, fasting, the necessity of fighting.
And in general the forethought of such matters is not to be reckoned a small thing nor to be overlooked; for soldiers who have eaten moderately, so as not to load the belly with much fullness, are more vigorous for battle; for often armies have been defeated for this very reason, their strength failing through want, when the issue of the battle is not decided at a critical moment but reaches its conclusion through the whole day.

Chapter 13

When some despondency and fear falls upon armies—whether because a reinforcement has come to the enemy, or because they have gained some advantage—then above all let the general appear to the soldiers cheerful and glad and undismayed.
For the looks of the commanders reshape the souls of those under them; and when the general is in good spirits and looks cheerful, the camp too takes heart, as though there were nothing terrible; but when he is cowed and grieved, they sink together in their minds, as though some great evil were appearing before them.
Therefore one should manage the cheerfulness of the multitude more by the expression of his face than console it by words; for many have distrusted words as feigned to suit the moment, but, thinking a confident look to be without pretence, they have given credit to the fearlessness. Best of all is the knowledge that comes from both—of saying what one must, and of being seen as one must.

Chapter 14

Just as encouragement of an army has at the right time done good, so too fear has been of service. For when a camp grows slack and disobedient to its leaders, one should hint at the danger from the enemy, making most fearsome their lying in wait; for thus he will make the men not cowardly, but safe; for in despondency one must take courage, and in slackness one must fear; for the one makes cowards brave, the other makes the bold forethoughtful.
Both befall armies—both to be so dismayed by the enemy as to dare nothing, and so to despise them as to guard against nothing; and the general must be fitted to either, and know when to make the enemy seem mean, both in word and in appearance, and when to make them seem terrible and more fearsome.
When a battle is imminent, when the armies, holding the decision of the war uncertain, are thrown into confusion by fear, if the general be able somehow to take prisoners—either from an ambush, or after skirmishing, or men who have strayed from their own camp—then, if he find some noble in spirit and in body, let him either kill them at once on taking them, or, binding them, hand them over to those appointed to keep guard over such, that not many may see the men; but if they be weak and ignoble and mean-spirited, let him further threaten them in his own tent and, having enslaved their souls by fear, lead them out before the multitude weeping and entreating, at the same time saying and pointing out to the soldiers how ignoble and abject and worthless they are, and that it is against such men that they have their battle, men so dreading death, clinging to their knees and grovelling at each man's feet.
For at this the army takes fresh courage, having now learned beforehand the looks and the soul's sufferings of the enemy; for always, what a man has not yet seen, he expects to prove greater than the truth, and besides, by the fear of what is to come, he measures his expectation toward the harsher.

Chapter 15

The order of war is not one, but many and various—according to the kinds of arms, and the troops, and the places, and the opponents, the differences of which the general will know on the very occasions; but those things which are not least suited to many formations, apart from those that must be conceived on the occasions themselves, these I shall run through as in summary.

Chapter 16

The general will array his cavalry not so much as he wishes as he is compelled; for he will set his own against the enemy's cavalry. Let him station them, for the most part, in pitched battles upon the wing, that, attacking both in front and from the flank, and using greater room—beyond which no others are stationed—they may be able to make full use of the cavalry's skill.

Chapter 17

The light-armed—javelin-men and archers and slingers—let him station first, before the phalanx; for if they are behind, they will do more harm to their own men than to the enemy, and if they are in the midst, they will have their own skill rendered ineffectual, being able neither to retire step by step, because of the upraising of the javelins, nor to cast on the run, since others are in front and at their feet; nor again can the slingers complete the whirl of the sling all around, since friendly hoplites stand at their side and strike against the swing; and the archers, advancing before the others, shoot their missiles into the very bodies and at their mark, but when behind the companies or in their very midst, they shoot upward, so that the missile has force for the upward flight, but again, even if it falls upon the enemy's heads, it is spent and does not much harm the foe.

Chapter 18

If it should happen that the battle takes place in ground having some parts low and some hilly, then above all let him station the light-armed in the rough places; and indeed, even if he himself has occupied the level ground while certain parts of the enemy's phalanx hold the rising ground, let him lead the light-armed up against these; for they more easily withdraw to the rough ground after casting, and most easily run back up the slopes, if they happen to be nimble.

Chapter 19

Let there be intervals along the ranks, that, when they have emptied their missiles while the enemy still advance, before the phalanxes come to close quarters, the light-armed, wheeling about, may pass in good order through the middle of the phalanx and be carried back without confusion to the rear; for it is not safe for them to circle round the whole army and bend about by the wing—for perhaps the enemy will forestall them in the meantime by closing with them and catching them in the middle—nor to force a way through the close-packed ranks, falling upon the arms and producing confusion among the formations as one man jostles against another.
The attacks of the light-armed by the wing do more harm to the enemy, casting from the flanks and forcing their way to strike at the exposed parts.
The defence against the sling is the most difficult of those among the light-armed; for the lead, being of the same colour as the air, escapes notice as it flies, so as to fall unforeseen upon the unguarded bodies of the enemy; and the impact itself being violent, and the missile, heated by friction with the air as it whizzes, sinks as deep as possible into the flesh, so as not even to be seen, and the swelling quickly closes over it.

Chapter 20

If he himself be in want of the support of light-armed, while the enemy have the advantage in this, let the front-rank men march in close order with shields the height of a man, so as to cover their whole bodies with their length, while those behind these and behind them, down to the last, raise their shields over their heads and hold them so until they come within range of the missiles; for thus, roofed over, so to speak, they will suffer no harm from the marksmen.
If the support of light-armed be on both sides, let them first, before the hand-to-hand battle, skirmish against the opponents, or, after the phalanx has closed, running up from the flanks, let them make full use of their missiles; for they are driven together into a narrow space and are no less thrown into confusion by such weapons of defence.

Chapter 21

Wishing to guard against encirclements, let him neither so extend his force in length as to make the phalanx wholly weak and shallow—for it quickly comes about that the enemy break through it and make a passage, and no longer work by the wing with their encirclements, but, having burst through the middle, get to the rear of their opponents; let him not only guard against suffering this, but also seek to do it, if he perceives the enemy's phalanx weak and thin—nor let him so contract his line at the rear, drawing it into great depth, that the enemy may most easily outflank it and take it within their wings.
Let him, however, make the rear strong, and those at the side of the wings no weaker than the front-rank men; for those in the rear hinder encirclements no less than those extended on the wing, if either the general, forestalling the danger, spread out the rear and, bringing them up along the wings of the phalanx, station those behind on both sides facing the enemy, or order those already encircled, leaning their backs against the backs of those in front, to make the battle face both ways.
A shrewd general, seeing the enemy many while he himself is about to risk a battle with fewer soldiers, has chosen and contrived to obtain such positions as these, in which either, drawing up along a river-bank, he repels the enemy's encirclement on that side, or, choosing a mountain-skirt, he shuts off by the very mountains those who wish to outflank him, stationing a few on the heights to prevent the enemy from getting above his head.
Yet generalship's prudence is not alone in this, but fortune too; for one must light upon such ground; for it is not possible to construct the places for oneself; but to choose the better of those that exist, and to perceive what will be advantageous, is the part of a prudent man.
Often those who use a great and well-manned force are wont to make their line a crescent shape and advance, thinking that they draw on the enemy who wish to engage man for man, then, when these bend into a curve along the half-circle, that they will catch them in the enveloping bay, joining their own horns one to another into the shape of a circle.
Against these one must advance not so; but, dividing his own force into three, let him attack the enemy by the wing with each of two parts, and with the one let him stand opposite those drawn up against the middle bay of the crescent, and not advance; for either, remaining in their circular shape, those of the enemy stationed at the centre of the phalanx will stand idle, doing nothing, or, advancing forward—if they wish to advance in line, unfolding from the sigma-like shape into a straight one—they will squeeze one another out and break their formation (for, since those on the wings remain in the same place and fight, it is not possible for the half-circle to come up into a straight line); and then, when they are in confusion and have broken their order, let him attack with the third division and reserve those who advance disorderly forward from the middle curve.
But if they remain in the hollow shape, let him station the light-armed and missile-troops directly opposite them;
for by casting at them they will do them much harm. And indeed, even if he attacks one wing of the enemy with his whole phalanx set obliquely, he would do no wrong in thus advancing against the encirclement from the crescent shape; for to a great extent those opposite, prevented from coming to hand-to-hand combat with their whole army, will be engaged a few at a time, only those on the one wing fighting, who are also the first compelled to close, because of the oblique attack.
It is not useless at times, even after drawing up against the enemy, to withdraw step by step with the army, as though dismayed, or even, wheeling about, to make a retreat in good order resembling flight, then again, turning back, to advance against the pursuers; for sometimes the enemy, out of joy, thinking that their opponents are fleeing, break their ranks and press on, leaping forward one before another, against whom it is without danger to turn and fight, and, dismaying them by the very confidence of an unhoped-for stand, to turn to flight again those who a moment before were pursuing.

Chapter 22

Let him have somewhere also picked soldiers stationed apart from the phalanx, as reserves of the battle, for the hard-pressed parts of the force, that he may bring up help ready to hand; and otherwise too fresh men coming up have done no small service against those already wearied; for they have both recovered those of their friends who were already worn out and have set upon the enemy when these were spent, while they themselves were fresh.
There might be something even more useful than this: to send out, farther from the line by however many stadia he thinks sufficient, some part of his own army, unseen by the enemy, ordering them, when he engages the foe, then, learning it from the scouts, to rise up and hasten on; and this is especially to be done when an expected reinforcement is delayed past its time; for the enemy, supposing these to be that reinforcement and that allies have come from somewhere to their opponents, would perhaps, even while they are still approaching, before the attackers close, rush into flight, thinking that not so great a multitude as it is, but a greater, is coming on.
And besides, even in the dangers themselves, the appearances of enemies not before encountered strike the soul with panic; for, anticipating something worse than they will suffer, men await the future as more fearsome.
Most terrifying of all, and most effective, is the sudden assault upon the enemy's rear, if it can somehow be managed, by having sent forward a body of soldiers by night and ordered them to go round the enemy, that they may all get behind them, so that at dawn, rising from the ambush, after the armies have closed in battle, they may appear to the enemy at their rear; for to those in flight no hope of safety would be left, since they can neither turn back, because of those fighting in front, nor be carried forward, because of those pressing on behind.

Chapter 23

And at some time, riding along, let him shout to his friends—if he happen to be on the right wing—"Men, those on the left are conquering the right wing of the enemy"; and if he be on the left, let him say that the friendly right wing is conquering, whether this be in truth happening or not; for indeed it is necessary to speak the falsehood where "a great strife has arisen." So again, when the enemy's commander is far off, either on the other wing or holding the centre of the phalanx, let him shout, "The enemy's general is dead," or "the king," or whoever it may be.
And these things he must shout out in such a way that the enemy too may overhear; for the friendly hear of their own as more glorious and take fresh courage and become doubled in their zeal, while the foe, learning of their own losses, sink together in their minds, so that sometimes they even rush into flight the moment they receive such a report.
Thus it has often been of service to deceive both friends and enemies together, lying to the one of better things, to the other of worse.

Chapter 24

It is the part of a prudent general also to station brothers beside brothers, friends beside friends, lovers beside their beloved; for when what is in danger nearby is dearer, of necessity the one who loves fights more readily for his neighbour; and indeed a man, ashamed not to repay the kindness he has received, is ashamed to leave behind his benefactor and be the first himself to begin a flight.

Chapter 25

Let him give every order and watchword and countersign through the officers; for to proclaim it, going round, to all is the mark of a private man and an utterly inexperienced one, and time is wasted in the proclaiming, and there is confusion as all at once question one another; then one has added something more than the general said, and another has taken away from what was said, through ignorance.
He must tell the foremost officers, and they report it to those next them, then these to those behind, and so on in order down to the last, the first signifying it to those at their heels; for thus quickly and in good order and in quiet they will know it, the order coming to pass much like the beacon-fires.
For with those too, when the first raises his torch, the second has lit a signal to the one after him, then the third to the fourth, and the fourth to the fifth, and the fifth to the sixth, and one by one all to one another, so that swiftly, over a length of stadia, all recognize what was signalled by the first.

Chapter 26

Let the countersign not be spoken by voice, but be given by the body—by a nod of the hand, or a clashing of arms, or an inclining of the spear, or a sweep of the sword—that, when at some time confusion arises, they may trust not only the spoken watchword (for this the enemy too can often catch by overhearing) but also the countersign.
This is most useful, too, against allied nations of foreign tongue; for, being able neither to speak nor to understand a foreign language, they distinguish friend and foe by the countersign itself. Let these be given even when they are not about to fight, in the camps, against unforeseen disturbances.

Chapter 27

Let him order both retreats and pursuits to be made in formation, that, on the one hand, being less liable to error, they may suffer less harm, not falling man by man, scattered in their flights, into the enemy's hands, and, on the other, succeeding more, they may do more harm, appearing in stronger array against the fleeing in ranks and companies, and besides be safer; for often the enemy, seeing them advance in disorder, have come to their senses again and, recovering their order by a turn-about, have made the pursuit run the other way. And in general let him say to them that nothing is better than to remain in formation, nor anything more perilous than to break it.

Chapter 28

Let it be a care to the general to draw up the army brilliant in its arms; and this care is easy, by bidding the men sharpen their swords and burnish their helmets and breastplates; for the advancing companies appear more terrible by the flashing of their arms, and the many terrors that fall through the eyes upon the soul throw the enemy into confusion.

Chapter 29

Let him lead the army on also with a war-cry, and sometimes even at a run; for both the sight and the shout and the clash of arms unhinge the minds of the opponents.
Let them, at the onsets, in a mass, before coming to close quarters, hold their swords aloft above their heads, repeatedly slanting them toward the sun; for burnished spear-points and bright swords flashing one upon another in answer to the sunlight send forth before the battle a terrible lightning; and if these things are done also among the enemy, one must dismay them in return, but if not, dismay them beforehand.
Sometimes it is useful, at the right moment, not to be first in drawing up the force, but to keep it for a time within the palisade, until he has surveyed the enemy's array—what kind it is, and how it is drawn up, and upon what sort of ground it stands.

Chapter 30

Then, having reckoned which troops he must set against which, and in what manner—like a good physician who, having first discerned the body's sickness, brings against it the remedies—let him draw up his force as may seem best to be advantageous to him; for generals are often compelled to order and array their own armies with reference both to the arms of their opponents and to their nations and to their characters.

Chapter 31

If the enemy be superior in cavalry, let him, if possible, choose rough and narrow ground, beside mountains, which is least suited to horsemen, or let him avoid battle as much as he can, until he finds suitable places fitting to his own affairs.
Let some soldiers be left also at the palisade, both to guard the camp and to watch over the baggage, lest the enemy's general, perceiving it to be empty, send men to plunder what is in it and seize the position.

Chapter 32

As for those generals who either pull down their own fortifications, or cross rivers, or put cliffs and chasms behind their own men, that, remaining, they may conquer, or, should they wish to flee, may perish—these I can neither altogether praise nor blame; for everything done at hazard is rather of daring than of judgement, and has had more share in fortune than in calculation.
For where one must either conquer and prevail, or, being defeated, perish utterly, how could anyone bear witness either to prudence in the victory or to deliberate choice in the defeat?
I think that soldiers from an army should be allowed to risk danger boldly—for both by doing something they have done great service, and by suffering they have caused no such great harm—but I do not approve of staking the whole army upon uncertain fortune.
Those seem to me to err most who, while in victory they will harm the enemy little, but in defeat will greatly damage their friends, make use of such stratagems.
But if their destruction be plainly before them, even though they do not attempt hazardous generalship, while plain too is the ruin of the enemy if these are defeated, then it would not seem to me that they err in barring the flight of their own men; for it is better, in daring, with the uncertainty that perhaps one will suffer no harm and at the same time accomplish something, to seek action, than, with the certainty that, doing nothing, all will perish, to keep cravenly quiet.
Let him, however, point out, not only in such places where in truth there is no safety for those who flee, but in every place and every battle let him teach at length, that for those who flee destruction is plain, since the enemy now press on with free power, no one any longer able to hinder the pursuers from disposing of the fugitives as they will, while for those who stand and defend themselves, death is uncertain.
For those who in the battle-lines are persuaded that by fleeing they will perish disgracefully, but by remaining will die with glory, and who ever expect worse from leaving their post than from keeping it, are found to be the best of men in dangers.
Therefore it is good, if a general can persuade all to be of this mind, and if not, then at least as many as possible; for thus he has either won complete victories or fallen into small reverses.
Of the schemes thought out by generals from forethought and before joining battle, the devices of victory and the counter-generalships conceived at the very moment of battle are sometimes both more numerous and more wonderful for those who have practised the experience of generalship, devices which it is not possible to indicate beforehand by speech or to plan in advance.
For just as helmsmen put out from harbours for the voyage with everything aboard the ship fitted out, but when a storm falls upon them, do not do what they wish, but what they are compelled, hazarding themselves boldly against the danger urged on by fortune, and bringing in not the memory derived from practice but the help derived from the moment; so generals will draw up their force as they think will be advantageous to them, but when the storm of war closes round, shattering and altering much and bringing on manifold circumstances, the sight of what befalls before their eyes calls for the devices of the moment, which the necessity of fortune supplies rather than the memory of experience.

Chapter 33

Let the general himself fight more with forethought than with daring, or even altogether refrain from coming to hand-to-hand combat with the enemy; for even if he should bring into the struggles unsurpassed courage, he can do an army no such service by fighting as he can do it harm by dying; for a general's judgement is stronger than his bodily strength; for by bodily courage even a common soldier can do some great deed, but by forethought of judgement no one but a general can devise something better.
And just as, if a helmsman, leaving the tiller, should himself do what the sailors must do, the vessel would come into danger, so, if a general, leaving off counselling by judgement, should come down to the tasks of the soldiers, the unsteered neglect of the whole would render useless the more necessary help.
I judge that a general who exposes his own life is as one careless whether the whole force suffer anything; for if he, in whom lies the safety of the whole army, takes no thought though he die, he chooses to destroy the whole along with himself; and one might rightly blame such a man as an ineffective general rather than a brave one.
For he who has played the general well by judgement will be content, plumed with pride at the successes won by the soul; but whoever is so devoid of taste as to think that, unless he come to hand-to-hand battle with the enemy, he has done nothing worthy, is not brave but unreasoning and rash.
Therefore he must display to the multitude his readiness for danger, that he may call forth the zeal of the soldiers, but contend more safely, and despise death if the army should suffer anything, not even choosing to live himself, but, when it is preserved, guard his own life also; for sometimes, when the affairs of friends were the more glorious, a general by dying has diminished them; for the failing have taken fresh courage on seeing their opponent without a general, while the prospering have grown despondent, seeking their own commander.
It is the part of a general to ride along the ranks, to appear to those in danger, to praise the brave, to threaten the cowardly, to exhort those about to act, to fill up what is wanting, to shift a company about if need be, to bring aid to the hard-pressed, to foresee the moment, the season, the future.

Chapter 34

Having recalled the army from the battle, let him first render to the gods sacrifices and processions, such as it is possible to offer at the moment, promising to render the customary thank-offerings after the complete victory of the war; then let him honour those who proved the best in the dangers with gifts and honours, such as custom allows, and punish those shown to be base.
Let the honours be both those according to ancestral usage and according to the customs prevailing among each people; but these are a general's honours: suits of armour, ornaments, gifts from the spoils, commands of fifty, of a hundred, captaincies, leaderships of companies, and the other commands lawful among each people; for the lesser authorities to private men who have shown valour, the greater commands to officers who have proved the best; for these are both magnanimous rewards to those who have already done a noble deed and necessary incitements to those who desire the same.
Where honour is rendered to the good, and punishment of the bad is not omitted, there the camp must of necessity have fair hopes; for the one have feared to do wrong,
and the others have been ambitious to show valour. Here, however, the victor must pay rewards not man by man only, but render to the whole army the fruit of its dangers; for let him allow the soldiers to plunder the enemy's goods, if he take a palisade or baggage or a fort, and sometimes even a city, unless he intends to deliberate something more advantageous concerning it.
For thus especially, while the war has not yet reached its end, it will be of advantage for the future, since the men go out to the battles more eagerly—unless we think that, while it is necessary for huntsmen to lure on their hunting-dogs with the blood of beasts and the entrails of the captured animal, it is not at all advantageous to render to victorious soldiers the goods of the defeated, by way of incitement.

Chapter 35

Plundering is not to be permitted at every battle, nor always of everything, but of some things, of others not; and of captive persons least of all—these the general should sell.
But if there be need of money and of great common expense, let him proclaim that everything driven and carried off be brought up to himself.
He himself would best know, with regard to the occasions, whether everything should be taken, or part, or nothing of what is captured; for it is not possible in war for there to be both abundance of money for the common funds and unhindered profit for the soldiers; and besides, in proportion to the wealth of the conquered and the prosperity of the places, the profits become more abundant for them.
Let him not kill the prisoners, while the war is still on foot—least of all those of the people against whom the war is being waged, even if it seem good to him to make away with the allies, and least of all the most distinguished and brilliant among the enemy—reflecting upon the uncertainties of fortune and the reversal of the divine power, which is for the most part wont to visit retribution; so that, if they themselves should gain possession of any persons—for whom there is great longing—or of a fort, he may, by giving sufficient exchange, recover the goods of his friends, or, if they then be unwilling, take just vengeance to an equal degree.
After the successes and the dangers, let there be allowed them feasting and ease and relaxation from toils, that, knowing what is the end of conquering in battle, they may endure all the hardships that go before victory.

Chapter 36

Let him take thought for the burial of the dead, making no excuse of time or season or place or fear, whether he happen to be victorious or defeated; for piety toward the departed is holy, and the proof of it to the living is also necessary.
For each of the soldiers, seeing with his own eyes that he himself would be neglected, had he chanced to fall, and divining the future—that not even he himself, if he should die, would be buried—takes ill the outrage of being left untombed.
If he be defeated, let him console those saved from the battle and watch for an opportunity, thinking somewhere even rather to retrieve the loss.
For soldiers are wont, for the most part, with good fortune to relax more carelessly about their guard-duties; for contempt of their neighbours becomes for them the cause of carelessness about their own affairs, and so often successes have done more harm than misfortunes.
For he who has stumbled has been taught even to guard against the future from what he has suffered, while he who is inexperienced in misfortune has not learned even how he ought to guard his successes.
Then again, when victorious, let him keep the same forethought against suffering through carelessness as he would bring to bear in order to make the enemy act while they grow slack; for well-timed fear is a forethoughtful safeguard, as ill-timed contempt is a daring easily ensnared.

Chapter 37

Having made a truce, let him neither attack nor be himself off his guard; but let him keep his quiet toward the enemy as in peace, and his safety against suffering as in war.
For one must neither be faithless to compacts, nor be himself the first to do anything impious, but suspicious, so as to guard against the enemy's hidden treachery;
for the minds of those who make truces are uncertain. And with you let there be the steadfastness of not doing wrong, because of piety, but in the enemy let the lack of faith be suspected, because of hostility; for he is safe and forethoughtful who leaves to the enemy, even should they wish to attack, no opportunity for being able to break the truce.
Those who make the gods the avengers of whatever they may suffer think piously, yet do not act safely.
For it is the part of utter fools, in the hope that those who break a truce will pay the penalty, to keep their dangers to themselves unforeseen, as though they themselves would be saved at the very moment their enemies perish, when it is possible, while keeping their own affairs safe, to put the impiety of the enemy to the test; for thus they themselves, through forethought, would not come to grief by being plotted against, and the enemy will have shown their impiety by the very attempt and seeming to have done it, had they been able.

Chapter 38

Let him deal kindly and honestly with the cities that come over, if any are the first to entrust themselves; for thus he would win over the rest as well. For the hope of obtaining the same treatment, alluring the many, draws them on to put themselves willingly into his hands.
But whoever, on becoming master of a city, deals harshly and warlike at once, plundering or killing or razing it, makes the other cities more estranged, so as to render the war for himself toilsome and the victory hard to hope for;
for knowing that the punishment of the subdued at the hands of the conqueror is inexorable, they endure to do and suffer anything whatever for the sake of not surrendering their cities.
For nothing so makes men noble as the fear of the evils they will suffer if they yield; for the expectation of the terrible from giving up their own inspires a terrible ambition in dangers.
Hard are the trials of battle against men in despair; for, hoping for nothing better from yielding than what they will suffer in danger, they choose, with much doing and suffering, to fight on.
Therefore sieges become, for generals who behave thus, foolish and brutish, toilsome and long, and sometimes even fruitless, and not least perilous and dangerous.
Let him keep his pledges and promises to traitors, not for the sake of those who have already done their work, but for the sake of those to come, that, knowing that gratitude is owed to them, men may choose the enemy's cause and turn to the same benefactions; for he who gives to a traitor receives something rather than bestows a favour.
Therefore he must readily pay the rewards; for he is not the judge of the wronged city, but the general of his own country.

Chapter 39

For assaults and the nocturnal seizures of cities through treachery, one must not be inexperienced in the movement of the fixed stars across the heavens by night, since often he will find his attempts ineffectual.
For sometimes one of the traitors has agreed to open the gates, or to cut down some of those in the city who oppose, or to attack the garrison of the enemy within, at the third or fourth or whatever hour of the night one may think opportune; and then one of two things has happened: either the enemy's army, drawing near sooner than it should, has been detected before the traitors are ready, and so has been hindered from the undertaking, or, coming too late, has become the cause of death to the traitors, who are detected, while himself accomplishing nothing of what was proposed.
Therefore one must, conjecturing the road by which he must set out, and estimating both the stadia and the time, how much he will spend upon the march, and observing from the stars how much of the night has already passed and how much part is left, reckon so accurately that he neither forestall nor be too slow, but arrive at the very hour of the appointed time, and, while still approaching, be heard and be within the walls.
If by day he break camp and lead an army to take cities through treachery at the agreed hour, let him send forward cavalry and seize all who fall in his way along the road, lest some of the country-people, getting ahead by running off, disclose the enemy's onset, but the army's appearance come suddenly upon men off their guard.
He must come upon them suddenly, when they do not expect it, even if he is not about to take them by treachery, but is to fight it out by battle after a declaration—not to delay, but as far as possible to forestall in attacking, whether a fort or a palisade or a city, especially when the friendly army seems few and inferior to the enemy;
for the unforeseen appearances of the enemy, by their unexpectedness, dismay their opponents, even if these be stronger, until, when they have surveyed themselves and gained time both to deliberate and to take heart, they are little by little compelled to despise them; thus sometimes the first and beginning appearances seem more fearsome than those grown familiar with time.
Therefore many before now, having dismayed their opponents by the unexpectedness of their appearance, have either quickly and against their will subdued them, or compelled them to do willingly what was commanded.

Chapter 40

A siege demands the courage of the soldiers, the inventiveness of generalship, and the preparation of engines; yet let it be safe and no less unforeseen by the besieged than theirs is by him; for what is plotted against, whenever it knows what evil it is meeting,
watches the plotter more closely; for he who thinks himself outside danger does some one of his designs whenever it seems good to him, while he who is in the very danger seeks to act first, whenever he gets the chance; therefore the besieger must secure his own camp by ditch and palisade and guards.
For the besiegers, whatever they intend to do, are seen by those on the wall, while the besieged, having the wall as a screen, are often unseen, and, pouring out through the gates, have either burned the engines or slain soldiers or done whatever was to their hand.

Chapter 41

They would least venture this if the besieging general posted companies at the gates and the small sally-ports to ward off the sudden sallies of the enemy, since otherwise they might often attack those outside unnoticed.
Assaults by night are for the most part useful to besiegers; for to those within, unable to see what is happening because of the darkness, the proceedings seem more terrible, and they are compelled to form a harsher anticipation than the things actually being done, whence arise confusions and tumults, no one being able to keep his head in such circumstances, but many even saying that things not being done are happening, and being able to know neither where they will attack, nor how many, nor with what parts; but there are runnings to and fro hither and thither, and shouts, and amazements full of panic confusion.

Chapter 42

For fear is a lying prophet, and will think that the things it dreads are also coming to pass; and everything by night, even if it be small, is more fearsome to the besieged; for no one says what he sees, because of the darkness, but everyone what he hears; and when one or two enemies somewhere appear on the wall, supposing that the whole army has already mounted the walls, they have turned and fled, leaving the battlements and gates deserted.
If the general be eager to accomplish something by main force, let him not shrink from being himself the first seen in the doing; for men do not so much do anything when compelled by the threats of their superiors as when shamed by the example of the more venerable; for seeing the leader the first to set his hand to it, a man both learns that he must make haste and is ashamed not to do it and afraid to disobey; and the multitude is no longer disposed as toward one commanded like a slave, but is moved as toward one summoned on equal terms.
The general will use, according to his means, many and various engines of siege. For it is not for me to say that he must have rams or city-takers or sambucae or wheeled towers or earth-filling tortoises or catapults; for these belong to the fortune and wealth and power of the warring states, and to the inventiveness of the master-builders who attend them for the construction of the engines.
But a work of a general's own shrewdness would be of this kind, if he wishes to bring engines to bear: with one part let him make full use of the works themselves—for it is not otherwise possible for a man to set engines all round the whole wall, unless the city be very small—and, dividing the army into many companies, let him order them to bring up ladders at the other parts of the wall; for thus the besieged fall into great helplessness;
for if, neglecting the other parts of the wall, they ward off the assaults of the engines, all those at the ladders, with none to hinder, easily mount the walls; and if, dividing themselves, they bring help in parts, the action at the engines' attacks becoming fiercer, those left behind, not daring even to fight against these, will be unable to repel the evil bearing down upon them.
Therefore, just as a good wrestler must feint and shadow toward many parts, drawing off and putting off his opponents this way and that against many points, but seek, with a firm grip upon one, to overturn the whole body—so must he overturn the whole body of the city.
If a man hasten to take a fort or city or palisade quickly, and his force grow weary, since he wishes not to stand off from the fortifications even for a single hour, let him divide the army into companies, as many as seem to him sufficient in proportion to the multitude and to the size of the city besieged; and beginning at once by night, let him attack with the first company, ordering the second to be in reserve and ready, and let him bid the third and fourth, and a fifth if there be one, turn to sleep;
then, when he has tried the wall for some time with the first, let him recall these and send them off to sleep, and signal the second to advance from the palisade, while the commander of the third company, rousing his men meanwhile, arms the company under him;
and after the second, let him bring up the third to fight an equal time with the first, while the second company sleeps, and after this again the fourth, then in turn the fifth, the soldiers resting by turns.
Likewise, as day comes on, those who first attacked by night, let them advance first again at dawn; then, after an hour or two have risked the battle—if there be six companies, two; if five, two and a little more; if four, three; if three, four—withdrawing, let them take their meal, and after them those next, and again those after these, down to the last, so that a kind of circle is carried round.
For this coming about, both results would follow: the assaults, both by night and by day, would be brought up without intermission, and the assailants, fresh and vigorous, taking their rests by turns, would fight.
Let no one think, however, that the besieged, even if they be very many, will counter with the same stratagem; for that which is in danger, even if one allow it, does not wish to indulge in sleep; for through fear of the danger, during the time it rests, it stays awake, as though the city were about to be taken; and the besieged, even if the besieging force be small, defend with their whole might, and all within the walls are set in motion, because the future is more fearsome—as though, should they grow careless for a little, all would perish.
Therefore there is every necessity that they, worn out and getting not a single hour's rest, but distressed with sleeplessness and toils, and then exhausted with a view to what is to come, defend their own more weakly, or send out men to beg and to surrender the city.
"Then is the general himself," someone perhaps will say, "alone forged of adamant or iron, standing sleepless at the same works?" Surely not; but during the time he rests—and let this be short and brief—let him set over the works one of the officers in repute, the most trusted and bravest, of those who hold the second rank of the generalship.
Sometimes the parts of a city that seem to be precipitous and fortified by sheer rocks have given the besiegers greater starting-points for victory than the walls raised by men's hands; for such parts of cities as are trusted to natural strength are wont, for the most part, to be unguarded and least watched over by the care of the soldiers.
There a good general has perceived what he must do, and, summoning a few of the most daring by promises and honours—men for whom it is easier to climb, whether by the very difficulty of the ground or by ladders—has prevailed in the undertaking; for, descending within the wall, they have either cut through a sally-port or opened a gate.
It would be of great service too if something of this kind were devised along with it, namely, that those who first succeed in mounting the wall should draw up trumpeters; for a hostile trumpet heard from the walls by night brings great consternation upon the besieged, as though they were already taken by storm, so that, leaving the gates and battlements, they flee; whence it comes about that for the soldiers outside both the cutting through of the gates and the ascent of the walls by the ladders become easy, no enemy any longer hindering them; thus it is possible for a city to be taken by a single, unarmed trumpeter.
If, having vigorously stormed a city still flourishing in numbers and power, he come into fear or suspicion lest the enemy, encountering him in companies and bands, ward off those who burst in, or, seizing the heights and the citadels of the city, sally out thence to do the enemy much harm, let him proclaim that the unarmed shall not be killed.
For so long as each expects, if taken, to die, he wishes to forestall by doing something, even while suffering; and many before now have driven out enemies who had poured in, or, unable to do so, have been shut up in a strong citadel, whence again they have brought toil and hardship upon the enemy, so that they have had to undertake a second siege . . . or even a longer one, and sometimes a more painful one, after much experience of evils.
But if this proclamation be spread abroad, perhaps even all, but, to speak plainly, at least the greater number, will throw down their arms; for of those who wish in their anger to go to the defence, each, fearing his neighbour, lest perhaps he be not of the same mind with himself, will be compelled to throw them down, so that, even if all wish to keep their arms, through their suspicion of one another, each man fearing lest he alone be caught in arms, hastens to lay them aside—for the swift crises do not allow the common purpose to become plain—and those ready to be saved, so long as nothing has been proclaimed to give hope of safety, even if not by choice yet by necessity ward off the oncoming evil; but when they have gained a little hope of safety, thereafter they meet him as suppliants instead of enemies.
And thus he who has made the proclamation compels even those who wish to keep their arms to throw them down. The death of soldiers in battles is easily consoled—for it seems to have come about for the sake of victory—but in victories and captures of cities it is most pitiable for the victors, a witness of folly rather than of courage.
If, however, the general bear malice toward the conquered, let him not think he gains any advantage among them by not killing at once those he meets; for at his leisure, and without danger, having his vengeance unopposed, he will deliberate how he must deal with the captured.
If, having despaired of taking it by storm, he settle down to a long siege, thinking to take the city by pressing it with famine, of whatever persons he may yet seize in the country, let him take the strong and those in the prime of life for the defence in war and dispose of them as may seem good to him, but the women and little children and the weak and the aged let him willingly send into the city; for these will be useless for action, and will more quickly consume the provisions prepared by those within, and will hold the place of enemies rather than of friends.
If for anyone everything proceeds according to fortune and intention, so as to set an end upon the whole business of the war, let him not be oppressive in his successes, but easy to bear, nor carry about a harsh arrogance, but have a kindly graciousness; for the one has bred envy, while the other has drawn on emulation.
Now envy is pain at the good things of one's neighbours, but emulation is imitation of the noble things found in others, and they so differ from one another that to envy is the wish that something noble should not exist even in another, while to emulate is the desire for the acquisition of like things.
A good man, therefore, is not only the best leader of his country and of the body of soldiers, but also no senseless general with regard to his own lasting good repute, kept ever free from danger.