Published unsigned as a leading article in the New-York Daily Tribune, No. 4104, June 13, 1854, p. 4, under the heading “Ships and Forts”; attributed to Friedrich Engels by MEGA² (I/13). Text from the original newspaper (Library of Congress, Chronicling America). Traducción al español.
In view of the fact that the success of the allied French and English and the defeat of Russia in the present war depends on the result of the conflict between the fleets of the former and the great fortified sea-ports of the latter, an unusual degree of attention is now paid to the relative power of these opposing means of attack and defense. It is admitted to be an open question whether places of such strength as Cronstadt and Sevastopol can be taken by any number of ships with any number of guns that can be brought against them. But, without expressing an opinion on that question at present, we wish to suggest that so far, the Russian military and naval resources have not been found, when brought to the test, exactly so contemptible as we used to be told they were before the war. The Russian armies were said to exist on paper only; we have found them excessively slow in marching, as they always were, but after all they arrived on the scene of action in pretty good condition and pretty full numbers. The Russian ships in the Black Sea, especially, were said to be badly built and miserably manned; and yet, in the chase of the Fury two Russian frigates, Russian built, nearly outsailed an English steamer, and both their build and handling were admired by the “rulers of the waves.” If the casemates without ventilation, and the stone walls which cannot stand the concussion caused by their own guns being fired, which we are led to expect at Sevastopol and Cronstadt, should prove to be of the same nature as the ships and soldiers, many a true John Bull will be doomed to awful disappointment when it comes to an attack upon them.
Cronstadt and Sevastopol, the two centers of the Russian naval establishment, are fortified in the strongest manner known to modern military science. Both of them owe their formidable appearance mainly to the system of Count Montalembert, a French engineer of the last century. Montalembert proposed to strengthen both land and sea fortresses by erecting, in the place of simple ramparts, with guns forming one single line of fire, large stone buildings of two, three, and in some cases even six stories, every one of them to be vaulted in bomb-proof, and to contain an equal number of guns firing out of narrow embrasures. The details of this system—the partial exaggeration of its principles by the author—the objections urged against it, cannot, of course, be here debated. However, the evident superiority of a fire from a double or triple line, disposed in as many tiers of guns one above the other, has caused its application in almost all modern constructions wherever it could be done. Cherbourg in France, Alessandria in Italy, Ehrenbreitstein, Linz, Kœnigsburg, Ulm in Germany, are more or less modified applications of some of Montalembert’s fundamental principles. Large casemated buildings with two or three tiers of guns have been found admirably adapted for detached forts, and especially for strand fortifications, where it is essential to oppose an equivalent fire to the mass of iron poured out from the broadsides of two and three-deckers. Thus Cherbourg, Brest, and almost all extensive fortified harbors, are provided with casemated batteries of at least two tiers; Sevastopol has almost all its batteries disposed in three tiers; Cronstadt has one, two, three tiers, and in two forts even as many as four tiers.
The fact that these new-fashioned constructions have not as yet in any case undergone the test of real attack, would be alone sufficient to keep alive a doubt as to their actual defensive strength. But these new forts shock so much in every detail of their composition all the notions of men who admit in fortifications of no possible progress beyond Vauban and Cormontaigne, that even at the present day there are hundreds of good soldiers and sailors, nay, even engineers, who hold them in utter contempt. This is partly the case even in France, where the Cormontaigne party carried their point when the plan of the fortifications of Paris was discussed. But nowhere do these prejudices prevail more than in England, where the large majority of officers are extremely deficient in theoretical knowledge, and dreadfully averse to study. Their old hand-books do not go beyond Cormontaigne; they themselves, perhaps, never heard the name of Montalembert pronounced; the organization of the British army is very unfavorable to any improvement, either material or educational; the Duke made it a point not to alter an iota in the service if he could help it; and what wonder that dress, maneuvers, notions, are more old-fashioned in the British army than in any other? Thus it is that among British officers especially there will be found a great many who cherish the idea that John Bull can do anything, and a British fleet take Cronstadt be it ever so strong, combined with the other notion that Cronstadt is not very strong after all, because it is built according to that bore of a system which threatens to spread confusion in all authorized treatises, and to make gallant gentlemen begin their studies afresh.
Now there is no doubt that with a good plan, a little knowledge of the ground, and an inspection of the ramparts and ditches of a bastioned fortress on the old system, it is not very difficult to make a pretty fair estimate of its strength: but this is not the case with the new fortifications, not only because they have not yet been tried in war, but because there are so many considerations of detail in their construction that a mere outward inspection gives but a poor clue as to the point in question. There is, above all, the strength of the masonry, as far as regards both the effect of the enemy’s shot and of the concussion caused by the fire of the casemates. There is the ventilation of the casemates, which, if not properly provided, may silence whole batteries at the most decisive moment by choking the men with smoke. There is the construction of the embrasures, which is very essential: the hight of the lowest tier above the level of the water, and other points. A minute knowledge of a whole fortress is required before, with the present want of practical experience, any opinion as to its real defensive efficiency can be pronounced. But this much is certain, even if there be some considerable faults in the plan and execution of these works, both Cronstadt and Sevastopol must, under all the circumstances, be considered first-rate fortresses, which it will take an exceedingly strong, well-handled and resolute naval force to carry. An attack upon either of them is, therefore, an event of the highest military interest, and, whatever may be its result, some of the most important questions now remaining open for debate in military science will then approach their solution.