Valor

( Valeur, Fr. ) Courage, bravery, intrepidity. A generous quality, which, far from a uming brutality and violence, with-holds the fury of the soldier, protects helple women, innocent infants, and hoary age. Nothing which is incapable of resistance, can ever be the object whereon true valor would exercise its prowe . Courage is that grandeur of soul, which prompts us to sacrifice all personal advantages, and even the preservation of our beings, to a love of our country and its liberty. The exercise of this determined courage in the profe ion of arms, is called valor. It is composed of bravery, reason, and force: by bravery we understand that lively ardor which fires us for the combat; reason points out to us the method of conducting it with justice and prudence; and force is nece ary for the execution. It is bravery which animates the heart, reason springs from the soul, and force depends upon the body; without bravery we fear obstacles, danger, and death; without reason, courage would have no legitimate view; and without force it would be usele : these three qualities should concur to form the true military valor. Dr. Johnson defines valor, bravery, and courage almost as synonymous terms. Mr. Add is on distinguishes between that sort of courage which springs, by instinct, from the soul, and from that which originates in a sense of duty, and is strengthened by reflexion. Count Turpin, on the other hand, establishes a wide difference between bravery and courage, which he makes two terms. In page 5, of the preliminary discourse to his E ay on the Art of War, he has the following pa age: “Is the officer—speaking of the requisite qualifications in a general—who loves his duty, and who would make himself master of it, under no obligation to ascertain what qualifications his station requires? That he ought to have such or such a quality, under such or such a circumstance? That here only bravery is nece ary, there only courage? And that he is not always obliged to have both at the same time?” These two qualities, which are often confounded in the same subject, merit a particular distinction; they are not so closely united, but that one may be found without the other. Courage seems fittest for a general, and for all those who command; bravery more nece ary for a soldier, and for all those who receive orders; bravery is in the blood; courage in the soul; the first is a kind of instinct, the second a virtue; the one is an impulse almost mechanical, the other a noble and a sublime conception. A man is brave at a particular time, and according to circumstances; but he has a courage at all times, and upon all occasions: bravery is impetuous, in as much as it is le the result of reflexion; courage, on the contrary, in proportion as it grows out of reason, becomes more or le intrepid. Bravery is inspired by the force of example, by insensibility of danger, and by the mingled fury of conflict and action; courage is infused by the love of our duty, the desire of glory, and by the zeal we feel to serve our country: courage depends on reason, but bravery on the constitution. Achilles, such as Horace describes him from Homer, implacable, cruel, despising every law except that of the strongest! presents nothing to the idea, but the hardine of a gladiator. But the Roman general, whose death would have occasioned the ruin of the army, the great Scipio, when covered by the bucklers of three soldiers, to avoid a shower of arrows, which the enemy directed against him, approaches in safety the walls he besieged, and standing only a spectator of the action, exhibits the picture of true courage, whilst he contents himself with giving the nece ary orders. Bravery again, is involuntary, and does not depend wholly upon ourselves; whereas courage (as Seneca observes) may be acquired by education; provided nature has sown the first seeds of it. Cicero, sheltering himself from the hatred of Cat a line, undoubtedly wanted bravery; but certainly he po e ed an elevated firmne of mind (which is in reality courage) when he disclosed the conspiracy of that traitor to the senate, and pointed out all his accomplices; or when he pleaded for Deiotarus against Cæsar, his friend and his judge. Coolne is the effect of courage, which knows its danger, but makes no other use of that knowlege, than to give directions with greater certainty; courage is always master of itself, provided against all accidents, and regulated by existing circumstances; never confounded by any danger, so as to lose sight of the motions of the enemy, or of the means by which he may be most effectually opposed: The chevalier Folard makes the following remarks upon this quality of the mind and heart. He says, in his notes on Polybius, there are various kinds of that species of courage, intrepidity, or strength of soul, which no circumstances can vanquish, and no events can shake. I do not know whether a quality, so diversified in its nature, can be found united in the same person to the full extent of its activity. We generally, discover that some men po e a larger proportion of it than others. In order to form a correct opinion of its existence in the human character, we should find out some individual who had acted through all the vici itudes of life, and had uniformly discovered the same firmne of mind and intrepidity of heart. But where shall we pick out a character of this sort? Life is too short for the full exercise of its various powers, and were it of a longer date, the circumscribed faculties of man render the research usele . I do not believe it po ible to point out an individual who, free from the natural weakne es that are attached to our constitution, has in adversity as well as prosperity been equally firm, and equally determined throughout all the changes to which military operations are unavoidably subject. This intrepidity and strength of mind, have been peculiarly visible on manifold occasions in some extraordinary characters, who have been equally remarkable on others for weakne and pusillanimity. We have seen them bold to the full extent of hardihood during a succe ion of triumphs; we have then beheld them shamefully agitated under a temporary reverse of fortune, and we have again seen them recover their wonted energy on the first favorable opportunity. These opposite qualities succeed one another; and we see boldne and timidity occupy by turns the same man, so as to produce, according to circumstances, the utmost solicitude and caution in some instances, and the greatest courage, firmne , and decision in others, during the prosecution of a war. These fluctuations of the human character may be traced, almost every day, in a certain description of generals. When they are reduced to defensive operations, their understanding becomes perplexed; they know not how to act, and not only omit to make use of favorable opportunities themselves, but unwittingly afford them to their enemies; whilst, on the other hand, in offensive war, their genius expands itself into a variety of expedients; they create occasions that did not seem to exist, turn them to account, and finally succeed. Thus we see united in the same men, promptitude, vigor, and enter prize in one species of warfare; and timidity, doubt, and consternation in another. I have known, says Folard, generals of marked intrepidity, (who in trifling matters have discovered a solicitude that approaches to a want of manline ) conceive projects of vast extent, that were full of intricate dev elopements, and chequered by incertitude; and I have seen them conquer the greatest obstacles by their courage and good conduct. Human nature is so strangely constituted, that whilst one man will rush into danger, as if attracted by blood and devastation, another will not have firmne enough to stand his ground, and face the coming evil. He, who in the hour of battle would give fresh courage to his troops, by being the foremost to advance, has been known to turn pale in the very trench where a soldier’s boy or woman has sat undisturbed selling spirits and provisions, or has been discovered to tremble when the signal for storming was given. The very man that would courageously lead his troop into action, or would prove the most expert marksman in the world, were he directed to practise in the front of a whole line, has been known to shrink at a single combat, and would rather rush headlong into a guarded breach, than measure swords or point a pistol with an antagonist. Another again, whom no danger could affect in public contests or in private feuds, when visited by sickne is full of apprehension, has recourse to physic, and in proportion as his malady increases, grows timid, scrupulous, and unhappy. It sometimes happens, on the other hand, though rarely, that the rankest coward will he peaceably in bed amidst all the surrounding terrors of di olution, and will even smile as his agony approaches. I have seen, continues the same author, (and daily experience confirms his observation) one of the bravest officers in the world, suddenly turn pale in a thunderstorm, and even so far give way to his fears, as to hide himself in a cellar. One man po e es what the French so forcibly stile une valeur journal ière , a sort of ephemeral courage, or what depends upon the influence of the moment; to-day he is as bold as Achilles; to-morrow he sinks into the degraded character of Thersites. It is related of general Cad wall a der, a man of unconquerable intrepidity in the field, that he trembled at the sight of a cat. The editor of this work had a friend, a lieutenant Muloch , in the Bengal army, a man of tried valor whose antipathy was of this singular kind, that he could not eat if there was a shoulder of mutton on the table; at a card party at Lady Oakley’s, at Madras, a shoulder of mutton was, without his knowlege, placed under his chair, the effect was, he fell from his chair in a state of convulsion from which he did not recover for several hours. The great Condé laughed at a man who said he never felt the sensation of fear, by asking him “have you never snuffed a candle with your naked fingers ?” Going into action one of his friends observed to him, “My prince you tremble.” He replied, “My body trembles for the danger into which my soul will lead me.” The peculiarities of this celebrated hero were, that he was always affected in his nerves by any surprize, but never lost his presence of mind; some of his friends attempted to surprize him in his tent, and in Austrian uniform made their way to his bed side and awoke him with their noise; he turned round and observed, “If you had excited an emotion of fear in me I should instantly put you to death.” Count Turpin, in his Art of War, appears to think that valor which unites deliberation and prudence is preferable to mere muscular bravery. The French pay more attention to the former than the latter, they always reward bravery but prefer valor . Mere animal courage is not sufficient for them, and speaking of those who po e bravery without discretion, they treat it as if mere animal bravery was common to all men, but valor or discrimination rare; hence they say of a merely brave man— Il est brave com me mon épée, mais general **** —namely a brainle part of the body. These changes in the character and constitution which are so visible in individuals, may be traced in their influence over whole nations, with little or no deviation. The Persian cavalry still maintains its ancient reputation for valor, and is still dreaded by the Turks. Tacitus relates, that the Sarmatian horse was invincible, but when the men were dismounted, nothing could be more miserably defective in all the requisites of war. Their whole dependence was on their cavalry, and, as far as we are enabled to judge, the same partial quality exists to this day. The French, until the present revolution, seemed to have preserved the character and disposition of the ancient Gauls. They went with more alacrity into action, and met death, at first sight, with more valor, than they discovered firmne and resolution to wait patiently for its approach. Hurry and agitation appeared more congenial to their minds, than calmne and composure. In order to conquer, it was found nece ary, by their ablest generals, to make them attack and insult their enemy. They grew impatient in slow operations, and gradually became le capable of meeting their antagonists in proportion to the time they were restrained from coming to action. Their whole history, indeed, is a continued proof of the justne of this observation; and although their character seems to have undergone considerable changes since their revolution, they have still retained so much of the original cast, as to shew more promptitude in offensive, than steadine and perseverance in defensive operations. Not that they are deficient in the latter, but that the former quality has been more brilliantly succe ful. To the first they owe their stupendous triumphs under Bonaparte; but they have again been rendered almost equally conspicuous by their conduct in the second under general Moreau, in his celebrated retreat from the Black Forest. But, alas! of what avail is the courage of the multitude, if the generality of their leaders are deficient in those indispensible qualities by which French officers have acquired the greatest reputation. It is like a torch in the hands of a fool or madman, who would as soon lead an enthusiast to a precipice, as he would shew him the paths he ought to tread.