THE VALUE OF MOBILITY FOR FIELD ARTILLERY. 
447- 
musketry may, one is almost tempted to say must, bring about a dead¬ 
lock between the two lines of opposing riflemen. On such occasions the 
cry for artillery has invariably gone up in the past from infantry. He 
will be somewhat bold who will deny the possibility of its being heard 
again, and, if it is, then without the intervention of guns willing and 
able to move infantry will be prevented from making progress. 
Such instances as I have just dealt with may, however, be regarded 
as the minor incidents of a fight, of a character, viewed relatively to 
the great places of the whole struggle, such as are borne by the per¬ 
sonal acts of bravery performed by individuals in a melee . For great 
strokes conceived and carried out on a large scale, mobility, however, 
is even more essential. Guns may be combined for various objects 
during an engagement. To make or repel a flank attack, to fill a gap, 
in one's own or to force an entry into an opponent's line. A capable 
leader, who understands the arm, has a full control over it, and can 
rely on its rising to his expectations, has often in the history of war 
turned it on such occasions nobly to account. In the two battles we 
will now deal with we shall find mobility enabling it to equal the 
demands in every one of the eventualities I have alluded to. 
Let us look at Wagram first, and as we do so I must presume that 
you are acquainted with the story of the campaign of 1809 up to the 
morning of the 6th of July, the day following that on which Napoleon 
had gained the left bank of the Danube with his whole army. 
When the Archduke's attack on his right, in the early dawn of the 6th 
of July, took Napoleon by surprise, he had to hurry to support Davout 
with his guard and their artillery from Raasdorf, where they had 
bivouacked the previous evening, to Glinzendorf where the Austrian 
left was pressing on. The distance, as the crow flies, is some three 
and a half miles. There are no roads even now to compare with those 
we are accustomed to in England, and the fields on either side of the 
unmetalled tracks were then green with corn and cultivation. When 
I walked over the ground, two years ago, it was winter, and at every 
step one sank ankle deep into the soft alluvial soil of those level plains. 
But the crops must have made movement even more difficult in sum¬ 
mer, and these batteries I speak of had to cover a lot of ground that 
day. For when the threatened inroad of the Austrians at Glinzendorf 
had been forced back, a new danger awaited Napoleon in his centre near 
Aderklaa. There, too, the Austrians were coming on with triumphant 
strides, and the same batteries that had stemmed their raid on the 
French right flank at one end of the battle, were now needed at the 
other to restore the fight, and fill the gap in their dangerously weakened 
centre. Napoleon, at the head of the cavalry and Horse Artillery, 
galloped himself to the new point of danger. The remaining batteries 
of his Guard, that is to say six Field, followed him with all the speed 
they could command, and their rapid flank march lay once again over 
the cultivated fields. I have often wondered how that wonderful change 
of position was made. The distance, as the crow flies, is some four 
miles and a half, and, as I have said, the ground traversed is a level 
highly cultivated plain. There had been a deluge of rain, too, on the 
night but one before, the ground must have been soft and soppy, 
