But the unexpected happened, and changed the entire strategy of the campaign. Cervera sailed into Santiago Harbor and refused to come out. To aid the navy in destroying him an army corps was despatched to Santiago, and the capture of that stronghold, together with the annihilation of the Spanish fleet, led Spain to acknowledge defeat. Thus the first strategic plan, which was both correct and costly, was abandoned in a sudden exigency for a diversion on a small scale, which turned out to be decisive. In all this development of strategy there was nothing histrionic; there was only an obvious common sense which suggests the method of sound business men going at a problem with determination and yet deliberation, with economy and yet quickness of adaptation. The first blow of the war at Manila was dramatic enough, but it was also plain, business-like strategy, which had been for silent months in preparation; and the final blow in Porto Rico was likewise very good business. Upon the whole, a survey of the problem offered by the conditions of the Spanish war reveals a shrewd and unerring strategy on the part of the United States. On the other hand, while we came to respect the Spanish in the highest degree as brave and dutiful men, we cannot regard the strategy of the Spanish War Office as anything but puerile. Spain saw the war coming before we did, and she might have put up a far better fight with no greater loss. In overcoming the Boers Great Britain had a problem of appalling magnitude. Her soldiers were to be transported from the ends of the earth to the Cape, and then to march as far as from New York to Denver before they could reach the enemy’s capital. Their line of communication was to be guarded in force at every bridge, trestle, and causeway for the whole of that immense distance. Cape Colony, the base of operations, was itself almost a hostile country. Three besieged British garrisons were to be relieved, and they required three diverging armies of rescue. The keeping up of the soldiers’ spirits over such a prodigious march, and the maintenance of the trains that fed them, constituted a problem such as no other army of this century has had to face. That the War Office in London did undertake it, and did actually overcome the natural obstacles which were more formidable than any fighting force that could meet the British in the field, showed a mental comprehension and perspicacity, as well as a perfection of organization, that has properly engaged the admiration of every strategist in Europe. Whatever blunders of tactics in the field were thrown up by incompetent officers, there was a big, clear brain behind it all, that knew the immense business, kept it going, saw beyond the diverging armies, effected a concentration, captured the capitals of two states, and accomplished military results that seemed impossible. The strategy accomplishing all this is of the very first order, and is