the lease is here boldly flung aside] our consul considers the title valid, and he has requested me to protect Mr. Puddicombe in the possession of his property by an armed force. If your Majesty be really desirous of making amends for your former rashness, and will relieve me from a disagreeable duty, you must leave Mr. Puddicombe in quiet possession of his ground till the question of title can be tried by commissioners appointed for the purpose. Your Majesty must also publish forthwith a proclamation, directing your subjects in the employment of foreigners to return without delay to their masters. Further, your Majesty would do well to pardon the man now in custody of the consul, as Mr. Hillier's illness precludes the necessary inquiry into the circumstances of the arrest for an indefinite period. By doing all in your power to retrieve the past, you may rest assured that Her Most Gracious Majesty, my august Sovereign, will not be indisposed to accept your apology." An apology is demanded where an apology is due. At any other time this letter would have been a most impudent effusion; but see how admirably fitted it was for the occasion, displaying, as it did, no common instinct on the part of the writer. "On the following morning a royal proclamation appeared, commanding all Siamese subjects lately in the employment of foreigners to return at once to their masters; and in the evening ensuing I received a note from the king, thanking me for my advice, and informing me that the proclamation suggested was already issued, and that no attempt would be made to oust Mr. Puddicombe." This was not all. The twaddle had not only been swallowed, it was assimilated, and it now displayed itself as a constituent part of the man. "As some atonement," the king further wrote, " for the insult which, you say, I offered the English flag, I will purchase a plot of ground convenient for your consular establishment, and present it to your government. In a conspicuous spot thereon I will erect a tablet, which shall bear this inscription: "Presented by Somdetch Phra Paramendr Maha Mongkut, First King of Siam, to Her Majesty Victoria, Queen of Great Britain and Ireland, to mark his regret for an insult offered to her flag."" One would think the king had been bewitched. The conclusion of his letter, however, shows pretty clearly that His Majesty retained the power of withholding an assent.

As to the pardon of the man in custody at the British consulate,'" concludes His Majesty, "this offender against the laws of his country must be arraigned before a Siamese tribunal. I will promise, however, that should he be convicted, I myself will solicit his pardon from the judges.""

The king's monitor laughed outright at this most awkward attempt of His Majesty to tergiversate. "Solicit his pardon from the judges!" rejoined Mr. Richards. "It is well known that the First King of Siam is possessed of absolute power, and can pardon as well as condemn. We have recently witnessed the manifestation

of his power to condemn; a display of his pardoning authority would now be exceedingly gratifying.'

The pardon was at length pronounced. Mr. Richards' triumph was complete.

"Whilst the point [touching the pardon] was still in dispute, the king's birthday occurred. It is customary for His Majesty to celebrate the anniversary of his birth by inviting to a grand feast in his palace the principal European residents." On this occasion the king took unusual trouble in preparing the entertainment, for he resolved to show by a surpassing liberality that if he could offend, he also could conciliate. The commander of the 'Saracen' and the king's friend was, of course, invited. But he "begged to be excused on account of the unsettled state of the last point."

"The king makes his appearance at these festivals when the cloth is removed, and his health has been proposed. He walks round the table, conversing freely with the guests; but he partakes of nothing, as it is not lawful for him to eat or drink in public. After imparting to the circle of his admirers a zest for new enjoyment, he retires. The banquet is quite in the European style, and is presided over by one of the principal ministers of state." (To be continued.)

STRATAGEMS AND TRICKS OF WAR,

BY LIEUTENANT A. STEINMETZ, OFFICER INSTRUCTOR OF MUSKETRY, THE QUEEN'S OWN LIGHT INFANTRY.

Introduction.

The game of chess may be played in application of the principles of Strategy, and the game of billiards in application of Tactics. Indeed, all man's favourite diversions and pastimes most significantly relate to war, which has been called his natural state, exemplifying always either the brute force that crushes, the skill that foils, the stratagem that surprises, or the ruse that deceives; and such is war to all intents and purposes. Even our philosophic diversions in science, ballooning, for instance, come in and lend their aid in the game of war-the pastime of heroes, and the necessary defence of nations.

Ancient generals, conforming to the superstitions of their times, appealed frequently to fate, destiny, and fortune, or as we translate it, "luck." On a memorable occasion, in a storm, when his pilot was terrified, Cæsar exclaimed, "Why fear you? You are carrying Cæsar and his good fortune;" and the man was re-assured and did his duty. Napoleon, one of the most cunning of men, pretended to believe in destiny, in his "star," and all that sort of thing, which is thoroughly appreciated by the Celtic mind, but which in the Anglo-Saxon mode of thinking, is set down as unmitigated

humbug. It answered Napoleon's purpose, however, on all occa

sions.

On the other hand, the Duke of Wellington did not believe in luck. He had no faith in happy accidents. He trusted nothing to chance. He never talked about his "star" or his "destiny," as if the influence of the one was to "accomplish" the other, whatever he did, or did not. The Duke believed that in war, as in everything else, matters in the long run come out pretty much according to settled laws, physical or moral, and that the best way to secure ultimate success is to keep in harmony with those laws, to look for results commensurate with the causes which are brought into play.

With these views, he never risked anything if he could avoid it. He omitted no opportunity of collecting knowledge that might one day be serviceable, that he might make himself fully prepared for all possible emergencies or possible openings. He was thus ready for anything that arose; was always found by others to be "a capable man," and found himself that the tools came to the hands that could handle them. He went to work with the utmost caution, the coolest sagacity, the greatest possible forethought. He included in his calculations everything he could think of that bore on the case in band. He did not wish to be surprised, and so he could not depend upon something happening that might favour his purpose. He was as wise and prudent as he was bold and magnanimous.

Bonaparte used to say that no man ever lost a game at chess but by his own fault. As a game of skill, the result at chess depends, of course, on the player himself, on his forethought and caution, on his mental habits, his intelligence and attention, on his power to divine thought and purpose, to anticipate movements, improve an advantage, and other qualities which imply knowledge, vigilance, sagacity and tact, which are only to be acquired by study and care, and which lead the individual to leave nothing to inspiration or genius, but to expect results according to law, the law that regulates thought and action in an intelligent agent, sowing and reaping in things done.

Such is the business of every-day life. Such is the general rule with respect to success and advancement in the world. The Rothchilds became millionaires after that fashion. Such was the principle on which Wellington acted, even in that science in which it is thought that, more than anywhere else, "the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong." On this principle, he quickly worked on, slowly advancing step by step, but gradually gaining on his more impetuous adversary, in the persons of his generals, until he confounded him by the report of his successes, alarmed him by the progress of his arms, pursued him to the centre of his dominions, and at last showed the superiority of plans regulated by cautious calculation, and pursued on the level of law, over reckless dependence on Fortune, or a superstitious belief on Destiny.

In nine cases out of ten, we may depend upon it, the grand secret of apparent luck is simply a man's thorough disbelief of any such thing; his trusting, therefore, to no extraordinary or fortunate interpositions in his favour; but, instead of that, just quietly relieving the goddess of her functions, and taking the part of Fortune on himself. It is thus that we prove that "knowledge is power," the power to do what we please in all the walks of life, in building up an empire of nations or of wealth.*

So, it is impossible for a soldier to know too much. If a long head be necessary for a lawyer, it is infinitely more so for a soldier, who has frequently to depend more upon his wits than his weapons for success or safety. Military history is full of examples which support this averment, and we propose to treat of this important branch of the Art of War, which has not hitherto received the attention which it deserves.

It has been said that the Art of War is the art of cheating and deceiving on principle and by method; and that the general who can play off and neutralize all the designs of the enemy by his intellect, and the sagacity of his movements, is a man of the highest order and worthy of the greatest confidence. Attila, Gengis Khan, Tamerlane, and other barbarians succeeded by their numbers; but Annibal, to borrow the French phrase "arranged" the Romans by craft, cunning, and the audacious sagacity of his plans.

We have numerous works on the art and method of war, Strategy and Tactics, but there does not exist, we believe, a single work in English, especially devoted to the inculcation of the method and the means of surprising an enemy, inveigling him into ambush, turning against him the very snares he has set for us, in short, the endless schemes and shifts with which, "by hook or by crook," we may get the upper hand of him, foiling him if we are on the defensive, or crushing him if we operate on the offensive.

Everything in war depends upon concealing the truth from the enemy, or making him believe what is false; and therefore we recommend to all military aspirants, the serious study of all the stratagems and tricks of war, which have been perpetrated in all times and countries.

Doubtless the most instructive military manual would be that which should show how battles have been lost, by the errors of leaders in every grade, and we propose ere long to write it, but not less indispensable is a treatise on military stratagems and ruses, which by their very nature, must be as amusing as they are instructive, for in the latter point of view, by knowing them beforehand, we can play them off if practised against us, or use them ourselves on occasion. Many of them seem to be endowed with everlasting novelty, for although practised over and over again, they have always succeeded.

* For the various points of this comparison between Napoleon and Wellington, we are chiefly indebted to Mr. Binney's" Wellington."

U. S. MAG. No. 435, FEB. 1865.

I.

STRATAGEMS PRACTISED IN CAMPAIGNS AND STRATEGICAL

OPERATIONS.

The wooden horse filled with soldiers, by means of which the Greeks got into Troy, was, doubtless, a clever trick; but the Spaniards, in 1597, got into Amiens by means of a stratagem still more curious and deceptive. Their leader, Ferdinand Tello, sent into Amiens a waggon loaded with straw and nuts, led by soldiers disguised as peasants. As soon as the gates were opened, the soldiers managed to let out the nuts from the waggon as though by accident, and the citizens who were mounting guard at the gates began to scramble for them. Thereupon the soldiers fell on the former with sudden slaughter, and being soon followed by the Spanish army, they took possession of the town.

Even in the altered conditions of modern warfare, occasion may occur in which a similar ruse may be employed to secure an important success; but false intelligence as to the existing state of things is most likely to influence the movements of modern belligerents.

By spreading the report that formidable mines were laid on the south approaches to Sebastopol, the Russians managed to protract a siege as damaging to the invaders as to themselves; for it is now quite certain that the Allies, after the Battle of Alma, could have marched into the city or carried it by assault. "The works on the South side," says Todleben, in his recent work on the Defence of Sebastopol, "being so feeble, and the garrison se small, it was impossible to hope, even supposing the bravest resistance, that we could succeed in repelling an enemy so superior in numbers." In fact, it is certain that Menschikoff left the town with his army, under the impression that it was not defensible. The caution of the Allied leaders cost both countries the loss of the finest armies they ever sent to battle, decimated and worried out of existence in a siege which may be considered the greatest bungle, on our side, in military annals.

In 1794, General Dumonceau, who had to attack the lines of Breda, seized them by stratagem and almost without a shot. His brigade consisted of a battalion of Belgian light infantry, and eight French battalions. Dumonceau ordered some carabineers of the Belgian battalion to approach one of the batteries of the lines, and enter into conversation with the sentinels and the Dutch gunners, to complain of the hardships of the service in which they were engaged, pretending to wish to desert, announcing, moreover, that their example would be followed by many more of their comrades. During this interesting conversation, which took place as ordered by the General, the carabineers began and continued to slide on the ice, as though to keep themselves warm, but in reality to get nearer and nearer.