will be the greater the more it has been possible to provide for the armament and organization of the population in the frontier provinces. Where the conditions on the side of the defender are not unusually unfavourable—as, for instance, in wide open districts—or where there is a want of troops in strategically unimportant provinces, then even if the invading masses break in on the very first day of mobilization, they will find railways, defiles, river-crossings already defended by infantry or popular levies. If they come upon an insurgent population they will find great difficulties both in reconnaissance and subsistence.

At every step they advance, the numbers of the opponent will be constantly increasing, while their own strength diminishes. The defiles will be occupied between their several columns, and they must guard themselves in every direction. Their trains and baggage get into confusion, and supply becomes all the more difficult the more rapidly they advance, because the waggons cannot keep up with their movement, and there is no time for requisitioning. Field batteries and lines of infantry occupy the more important positions, the enemy's Cavalry appears on the flanks, and man and horse break down at length under the severity of the strain. Retreat becomes inevitable, and if they ever get back at all, they can only reach their own Army after heavy losses and with broken force. The damage which they can do to the enemy remains small in proportion to his total power, even though it is locally not inconsiderable. At the best one may hope to destroy some railway not too far from the frontier, interrupt some telegraph lines of communication, and disperse or capture some ammunition depots, magazines, or snap up some convoys of reserve men and horses. But the enemy has already taken these possibilities into account; they will soon be overcome, and his arrangements in general will be hardly disturbed.

If, on the other hand, the Cavalry is accompanied by infantry, it will be even more hampered in its movements than by its own trains, and will soon have to decide whether it should make its movements dependent on those of its escort, thereby renouncing all hopes of further results, or whether it should abandon the infantry to its fate. Certain defiles in the vicinity of the frontier, which the combined forces were able in advancing to occupy, the infantry may well succeed in keeping open; but if it attempts to follow the tracks of its own Cavalry, there can be no doubt it would be exposed to inevitable destruction.

This applies equally to the cyclist—at least, as far as the machine has as yet been developed; for though one cannot deny the great advantage which its mobility under certain circumstances offers, yet it remains too dependent on roads and weather to insure that freedom and certainty of movement which in such undertakings in conjunction with Cavalry are unconditionally necessary.

The attempt to break up communications by well-mounted officers patrols boldly pushed forward in advance would seem to offer even less chances of securing permanent results. They, too, will find the country obstructed by the armed population, or by troops in the act of concentration. Even weak detachments or patrols along the railway would suffice to effectively resist them; they can depend for success only on their rapidity and cunning. But most rivers are unfordable, and in the woods patrols can hardly venture, because every tree may shelter a man with a rifle. Once they leave the roads, their pace diminishes; they easily lose their direction; nowhere can they obtain security for rest and food, even if they are fortunate enough in procuring any. If, in spite of all this, they do happen to succeed in blowing up a railway or cutting a telegraph, the effect is infinitesimal.

The patrol itself will find its chances of escape decreasing in exact proportion to the distance it has penetrated into the enemy's country.

The greater the number of the patrols employed, the more irreplaceable will the inevitable loss become; for it will always be the best officers, the men who put most energy and determination into the execution of their instructions, who are the most likely to fall victims to their courage and audacity.

Premature advance of the Cavalry during mobilization and concentration can only procure information of little or no importance, for the existing railways, the direction of the frontiers, and the peace-time distribution of the troops reveal all this to the General Staff beforehand. These, together with the secret service, political conditions obtaining at the moment, and press intelligence, will enable one to forecast with some degree of precision the general situation.

Now, the Cavalry can hardly expect to attain more—indeed, it is doubtful whether they would succeed even in confirming what is already known, for the difficulties to be overcome, as we have seen, are numerous, and nowhere can one find completed situations from which to make reliable deductions. At most they can determine that certain places are already occupied, and that the traffic on certain lines is considerable, things that one knew a priori, which, therefore, are not worth any serious sacrifice. Moreover, it is exceedingly doubtful whether, at such an early period, when conditions are changing from day to day, such information has any practical value.

Of course, it is not intended to maintain that one should not from the very first moment after the declaration of War keep a sharp look-out upon the enemy, work up to him, and seek to determine as much as rapidity and daring can succeed, with any probability of success, in attaining—that goes without saying. Particular value will always attach to the taking of prisoners, whose regimental numbers enable us to check the accuracy of our existing information. But against this we must emphasize all the more forcibly that in this first period of hostilities an inundation of the enemy's zone of concentration with masses or by far-flung lines of patrols is not only not expedient, but absolutely detrimental, since the certain cost of such undertakings stands in no reasonable proportion to the probably negative, or at most insignificant, result to be expected. Further, our own concentration has already been so prepared in peace that it must be carried out with clock-like regularity, even should the results of the reconnaissance disclose that the conditions on the side of the enemy were not quite those that we had originally expected.

Even the mere transference backwards of the line of strategic deployment, which in 1870 could still be carried out without serious difficulties or drawbacks, could nowadays, in view of the high tension induced by modern conditions, only be executed with extraordinary difficulty, whilst lateral displacement of such numbers is quite inconceivable. For even if the railway organization would suffice for the execution of such a design, the many other preparations in the zone of concentration can neither be moved nor improvised.

Summarizing the whole question, the conclusion, I think, must be, that only that Army which has at its disposal a great preponderance of Cavalry could allow itself the luxury of such premature commitment of its mounted forces.

In general, the difficulties of replacing the losses of the Cavalry with material of equal quality are so great that only the most important reasons could justify any such attempts. Hence the side which is weaker in Cavalry will meet the circumstances best by keeping back its horsemen, and not sacrificing its officers for infinitesimal, and probably unattainable, advantages. It will be better merely to work up to the enemy as close as may be possible without