Ebook Modeling and Analysis of Passive Vibration Isolation Systems PDF Full Chapter PDF
Ebook Modeling and Analysis of Passive Vibration Isolation Systems PDF Full Chapter PDF
Ebook Modeling and Analysis of Passive Vibration Isolation Systems PDF Full Chapter PDF
SUDHIR KAUL
Associate Professor, School of Engineering and Technology,
Western Carolina University, Cullowhee, NC, USA
Elsevier
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Notices
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experience broaden our understanding, changes in research methods, professional practices,
or medical treatment may become necessary.
Practitioners and researchers must always rely on their own experience and knowledge in
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British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN: 978-0-12-819420-1
Preface vii
Dedication ix
Acknowledgment xi
1. Vibration isolation—background 1
1.1 Introduction 1
1.2 Isolator materials 1
1.3 Common elastomeric isolator designs 4
1.4 Stiffness and damping 4
1.5 Single-degree-of-freedom system 9
1.6 Multiple-degree-of-freedom system 16
Review exercises 24
References 25
v
vi Contents
vii
viii Preface
the vibration isolation system on overall system dynamics. There are two
brief appendices that may be used as a refresher on ordinary differential
equations and matrix algebra. Each chapter has a few exercise problems that
can be solved to test the understanding of the content presented in the
chapter.
The models discussed in this book encompass a wide range that can
be useful for the analysis of passive vibration isolation systems. While some
of the models presented in this book have been used for quite some time,
others are relatively new and offer useful options for gaining an analytical
insight that can be used for design. Furthermore, some of the models are
phenomenological, while others are semi-empirical; therefore allowing a
design or analysis engineer to customize the models during the product
development process. Some of the models for elastomeric materials and
nonlinear behavior that have been discussed in this book are active areas
of research and continue to be discussed and investigated in the existing
literature. A surge in the use of electric powertrains has resulted in new
requirements for passive vibration isolation systems, a few models presented
in this book are possible options for the analysis of internal resonance in
such systems. I hope that the variety of models discussed in this book is
useful in the design and development of passive vibration isolation systems
by holistically accounting for vibration response, system dynamics, design
parameters, and isolator design.
Dedication
ix
Acknowledgments
I would like to acknowledge the help received from the entire publishing
team at Elsevier. I also want to acknowledge the support received from
Western Carolina University and all my colleagues, students, peers, and
collaborators over the years. While many individuals have helped in shaping
my understanding of the content of this book, two individuals merit
special mention. I want to express my gratitude to my graduate advisor
at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, Dr. Anoop Dhingra, and my
supervisor at Harley Davidson Motor Company, Dr. Tim Hunter, for
introducing me to different aspects of passive vibration isolation. Finally, I
want to thank my wife for her love, patience, and understanding during this
endeavor.
I would be remiss in failing to acknowledge the contribution of many
individuals who have shaped my academic journey, this includes many
teachers from my school and professors from the universities I attended.
I also want to thank my sister for being my very first teacher and mentor.
xi
CHAPTER 1
Vibration isolation—
background
Contents
1.1 Introduction 1
1.2 Isolator materials 2
1.3 Common elastomeric isolator designs 4
1.4 Stiffness and damping 6
1.5 Single-degree-of-freedom system 9
1.6 Multiple-degree-of-freedom system 17
Review exercises 24
References 25
1.1 Introduction
The use of vibration isolators and vibration isolation systems is widely
prevalent in multiple applications such as automotive, railroad, aerospace,
heavy machinery, civil structures, etc. Some of the main reasons for using
a vibration isolator include mitigation of resonance peaks, reduction of
transmissibility, enhancement of fatigue life, improvement in ergonomics,
etc. in the presence of external or internal sources of dynamic excitation.
The design of a vibration isolator requires a close examination of multiple
considerations such as the source of dynamic excitation, range of excitation
frequency, excitation amplitude, allowable displacement, acceleration limits
of the isolated system, available design envelope, etc. Additionally, consider-
ations of environmental conditions, manufacturability, and material choice
are also important. All these considerations accentuate the importance of
a theoretical model that can reasonably predict the performance of the
isolation system before finalizing the design and before manufacturing
prototypes that can be used for testing. Therefore, it is critical to select a
suitable model that can be correlated to test results and eventually used to
finalize design details.
Modeling and Analysis of Passive Vibration Isolation Systems. Copyright © 2021 Elsevier Inc.
DOI: 10.1016/B978-0-12-819420-1.00007-8 All rights reserved. 1
2 Modeling and analysis of passive vibration isolation systems
A B
Figure 1.1 Springs in parallel and springs in series.
Vibration isolation—background 7
η= k
k
= tan(ϕ) (1.4)
used in case of hysteretic damping, with a lag between the applied force and
the resulting deformation.
Damping is a complex phenomenon that can be used to indirectly
represent the energy dissipated by the vibration isolation system during
repeated or cyclic loading. Viscous damping is commonly used to model
the damping of many vibration isolators. In some cases, hysteretic damping is
more suitable to represent the damping of a vibration isolator, which will be
discussed further in subsequent chapters.Three variables used to characterize
viscous damping are the damping constant, the critical damping constant,
and the damping ratio (also called the damping factor). The damping
constant (c) is defined as applied force per unit relative velocity
F
c= (1.5)
v
In Eq. (1.6), k is the stiffness constant and m is the mass of the system.
The damping ratio is defined as the unitless ratio between the damping
constant and the critical damping constant.
c
ξ= (1.7)
cc
k √
ceq = = η mk (1.9)
ω
In Eqs. (1.8) and (1.9), η is the loss factor defined in Eq. (1.4). It may
be noted that the equivalent damping ratio and the equivalent damping
constant assume a harmonic response, with frequency ω, to a harmonic
excitation. The variables k and k are the variables associated with complex
stiffness, as seen in Eqs. (1.2) and (1.3). It may be noted that some systems may
exhibit friction damping,details about such damping can be found in various
studies (Balachandran & Magrab, 2019; Inman, 2014; Thomson & Dahleh,
1998; Inman, 2014; Meirovitch, 1997; Rao, 2007 2017; Tongue, 2002).
of the system. Eq. (1.11) provides the time (t) history of displacement for
the undamped system when it is perturbed from its static equilibrium. The
steps in the development of the solution in Eq. (1.11) are not presented here.
Appendix A provides a brief introduction to the solution of the second-
order differential equations.
The EOM for an undamped SDOF system in the presence of an
excitation input can be expressed as
..
m x +kx = f (1.12)
In Eq. (1.12), f is the excitation force. The solution to the EOM in
Eq. (1.12) is a combination of the homogeneous and the particular solution
for a general excitation force, f = f0 ejωt , with an excitation frequency of ω,
and can be written as
f0 /k
x(t ) = c1 cos(ωnt ) + c2 sin(ωnt ) + 2
(1.13)
1 − ωωn
In Eq. (1.15), c1 and c2 are two constants that can be determined from
Also, the solution varies with the nature of λ1 and
the initial conditions.
2
λ2 , λ1,2 = − 2m c
± c
2m
− mk , to determine whether the system is
underdamped, overdamped, or critically damped. The steps needed for
solving the governing differential equation in Eq. (1.14) are provided in
Appendix A.
For vibration isolation, underdamping is the specific case of interest. For
underdamping, 0 < ξ < 1 and the solution in Eq. (1.15) can be modified as
follows:
x(t ) = e−ξ ωnt c1 cos(ωd t ) + c2 sin(ωd t ) (1.16)
. c k f
x2 = − x2 − x1 + (1.21)
m m m
.
In Eqs. (1.20) and (1.21), x1 = x and x2 = x The system in Eqs. (1.20) and
(1.21) is equivalent to Eq. (1.17). The main advantage of expressing the
second-order differential equation as a system of the first-order differential
equations is the use of numerical methods. This is particularly beneficial for
a nonlinear system as a closed-form solution may not be readily available for
such a system. The system in Eqs. (1.20) and (1.21) can also be expressed in
a matrix form as
.
x1 0 1 x1 0
. = + 1 f (1.22)
x2 − mk − mc x2 m
can be used to calculate the damping ratio of 0.25. As the damping ratio is
less than one, the solution for an underdamped system in Eq. (1.16) can be
used. The natural frequency of the system is 100 rad/s. Applying the initial
conditions, the free vibration response can be expressed as
x(t ) = e−25t [0.01 cos(96.82t ) + 0.0036 sin(96.82t )] (E1.2.2)
The undamped natural frequency of the system is 100 rad/s and the
undamped natural time-period is 0.0628 s. However, the damped natural
frequency is 96.82 rad/s and the corresponding time-period is 0.0649 s.
The free vibration response of the viscous damped system is shown in
Fig. 1.5.
In addition to using the time domain, it is often beneficial to use the
frequency domain for vibration analysis. Applying Fourier transform to the
EOM in Eq. (1.17) with zero initial conditions yields the following:
−mω2 X (ω) + jcωX (ω) + kX (ω) = F (ω) (1.23)
In Eq. (1.23), X(ω) and F(ω) are the Fourier transforms for x(t) and f(t),
respectively. The transformed equation in Eq. (1.23) is often expressed in
Vibration isolation—background 15
the form of the ratio between X(ω) and F(ω), called the frequency response
function (FRF), and is expressed as
X (ω) 1
= (1.24)
F (ω) (k − mω2 + jcω)
The ratio in Eq.(1.24) is commonly used to plot the magnitude and phase
of the frequency response at varying frequencies of the excitation force. It
may be noted that the frequency response is plotted in multiple formats,
typically in semi-log or log-log format. Also, it is common to plot velocity
or acceleration response instead of the displacement response shown in
Eq. (1.24).
Impulse response is another commonly used means of calculating the
response of an SDOF system. This can be computed by writing the transfer
function for the system using the EOM in Eq. (1.17). Using the Laplace
transform and zero initial conditions yields the transfer function, H(s), of
this system as
X (s) 1
H (s) = = (1.25)
F (s) (ms + cs + k)
2
In Eq. (1.25), X(s) and F(s) are the Laplace transformations for x(t) and f(t),
respectively. This form is typically called the displacement transfer function.
Eq. (1.25) can be alternately expressed as
X (s) 1/m
H (s) = = 2 (1.26)
F (s) s + 2ξ ωn s + ωn2
All variables in Eq. (1.26) are already defined earlier in this section. For
an impulse input force, F(s) = 1, and the inverse Laplace of the transfer
function in Eq. (1.26) is called the impulse response of the system and is
often useful in experimental characterization. The impulse response for the
transfer function in Eq. (1.26) can be expressed as
−1 −1 1/m
h(t ) = L [H (s)] = L (1.27)
s2 + 2ξ ωn s + ωn2
In Eq. (1.27), L−1 is the inverse Laplace transform and h(t) is the impulse
response in time domain. Example 1.3 provides an example of the frequency
response of a damped SDOF system.
Example 1.3: For a damped SDOF system, as shown in Figure 1.3, with a
mass of 1 kg, a stiffness of 10,000 N/m, and a viscous damping constant of
50 N-s/m, plot the magnitude and phase of the frequency response.
16 Modeling and analysis of passive vibration isolation systems
Using the form expressed in Eq. (1.24), the frequency response for the
given system can be expressed as
X (ω) 1
= (E1.3.1)
F (ω) 10,000 − ω2 + j50ω
It may be noted that the units of the frequency response in eq. (E1.3.1) are
m/N. The magnitude and phase for the frequency response can be expressed
as
X (ω) 1
F (ω) = (E1.3.1a)
(10,000 − ω2 )2 + (50ω)2
X (ω) −1 50ω
∠ = −tan (E1.3.1b)
F (ω) 10,000 − ω2
The magnitude and phase response is plotted in Figs. 1.6 and 1.7,
respectively.
Vibration isolation—background 17
the eigenvalues of the system. These eigenvalues can be found from the
determinant (det) of the matrix as
det(λ2 I + M −1 K ) = 0 (1.30)
The values of λ from the solution of Eq. (1.30) are the undamped natural
frequencies of the system. For each eigenvalue, λi , a corresponding vector of
size n × 1, ψ i , can be computed from Eq. (1.29), these are the corresponding
mode shapes or eigenvectors of the system. Some critical properties of mode
shapes are as follows:
• Mode shapes (ψ) can be scaled arbitrarily.
• Mode shapes have a weighted orthogonality property. This implies that
for two different mode shapes, ψ r and ψ s (where, r = s), ψrT Mψs = 0
and ψrT Kψs = 0.
• For r = s, ψrT Mψs = Mr and ψrT Kψs = Kr , where Mr and Kr are
diagonal matrices. The values of Mr and Kr are called the modal mass
and the modal stiffness, respectively.
• As mode shapes can be scaled arbitrarily, values of modal mass and modal
stiffness are not unique or well-defined numbers for a system.
• Specific scaling of mode shapes can be performed to obtain the modal
mass matrix as an identity matrix. This is often useful as the inverse
of an identity matrix is the identity matrix itself and its use will be
demonstrated in the subsequent part of this section.
The general EOM for a damped MDOF system with an external
excitation can be expressed as
.. .
M X + C X + KX = F (1.31)
In Eq. (1.31), M, C, and K are the mass, damping, and stiffness matrices,
respectively, each system matrix is n × n, where n is the number of DOF
of the MDOF system. Also, X, is an n × 1 matrix and F is the n × 1
external force or moment matrix. The nature of the system matrices can
vary significantly from one system to another. However, regardless of the
nature of the system matrices, the EOMs can be diagonalized and solved in
terms of modal coordinates, using some of the properties of mode shapes
discussed earlier in this section. For proportional damping, the damping
matrix can be expressed as a linear combination of the mass and stiffness
matrices, with C = aM + bK, where a and b are real constants. Using a
coordinate transformation of X = ψq, where ψ is the mode shape matrix,
and premultiplying Eq. (1.31) by ψ T , the following diagonalized system is
Vibration isolation—background 19
obtained:
.. .
ψ T Mψ q +ψ T Cψ q +ψ T Kψq = ψ T F (1.32)
It may be noted that ψ consists of all the mode shapes. The EOM yield
a system of equations that are uncoupled and can be solved individually
to solve for the values of q, these values can then be combined as per the
coordinate transformation to find the actual solution.The EOM in Eq.(1.31),
using the formulation in Eq. (1.32), can be expressed as
.. .
Mr q +Cr q +Kr q = F (1.33)
In Eq. (1.33), Mr , Cr , and Kr are diagonal matrices, each matrix is n × n,
while F = ψ T F is n × 1. The masses in Mr are called the modal masses
and the stiffness values in Kr are called modal stiffnesses. However, as mode
shapes are scaled arbitrarily, the modal mass and modal stiffness may not be
unique or well defined. This can be resolved by scaling such that all modal
mass values are 1, thereby yielding a modal mass matrix, Mr , that is an identity
matrix.
In case of nonproportional damping, it is not possible to decouple the
damping matrix. This is called general damping. In such cases, it is common
to convert the EOM of the system to a state-space formulation and solve the
eigenvalue problem. For general damping, the EOM for a damped MDOF
system, as shown in Eq. (1.31), is equivalently expressed as
.
C M X.. K 0n×n X. F
+ = (1.34)
M 0n×n X 0n×n −M X 0n×1
In Eq. (1.34), 0n × n is the n×n zero matrix and 0n × 1 is the n × 1 zero
matrix. Eq. (1.34) can be written as a first-order system as follows:
.
AZ +BZ = F (1.35)
C M
In Eq. (1.35), Z = [X Ẋ ]T , F = [F 0n×1 ]T , A = and
M 0n×n
K 0n×n
B= . The eigenvalue problem for Eq. (1.35) can be solved to
0n×n −M
find the eigenvalues and eigenvectors by solving the following:
(A−1 B − λI )ψ = 0 (1.36)
In Eq. (1.36), λi are the eigenvalues and the corresponding ψ i are the
eigenvectors. An example of a proportionally damped and a nonpropor-
tionally damped two-DOF system is provided in Example 1.4.
20 Modeling and analysis of passive vibration isolation systems
The eigenvalues of this matrix yield the following: λ21 = 2641 and
λ22= 11,359.The eigenvectors corresponding to λ1 and λ2 are ψ 1 = [0.5620
0.8271]T and ψ 2 = [0.9650 − 0.2623]T. The eigenvectors are combined
0.5620 0.9650
to form the mode shape matrix as ψ = . The mode
0.8271 −0.2623
shape matrix can be used for the transformation of X = ψq to diagonalize
the mass, damping, and stiffness matrices. For this system, X = [x1 x2 ]T and
q = [q1 q2 ]T . The transformed matrices are as follows:
4.0522 0
Mr =
0 2.2065
1.0702 × 104 0
Kr =
0 2.5063 × 104
7.7075 0
Cr =
0 17.08
The diagonalized elements of Mr and Kr can be used to find the natural
frequencies as
k1r
ω1 = = 51.39 rad/s = 8.18 Hz
m1r
k2r
ω2 = = 106.58 rad/s = 16.96 Hz
m2r
The damping ratios can also be computed from the diagonalized ele-
ments of Mr , Cr , and Kr as
c1r
ξ1 = √ = 0.0185
2 m1r k1r
c2r
ξ2 = √ = 0.0363
2 m2r k2r
The damped natural frequencies of the system are ωd1 = 8.17 Hz and
ωd2 = 16.95 Hz. The transformed EOM can be expressed as
.. .
m1r q1 + c1r q1 + k1r q1 = 0 (E1.4.5)
.. .
m2r q2 + c2r q2 + k2r q2 = 0 (E1.4.6)
Each transformed EOM can be solved independently by using the
solution for an SDOF system, one at a time. These solutions can then be
22 Modeling and analysis of passive vibration isolation systems
It may be noted that X(ω) and F(ω) are n × 1, where n is the number
of DOF of the system. The transformed system in Eq. (1.37) consists of a
system of equations corresponding to the DOF of the MDOF system, this
Vibration isolation—background 23
Review exercises
1. For an SDOF system attached to a spring-damper unit, as shown in
Fig. 1.3, find the undamped and damped natural frequency as well as the
damping ratio. Also, write the EOM and the transfer function for this system.
The following data can be used: m = 1 kg, c = 100 Ns/m, k = 106 N/m.
2. For the proportionally damped system with two-DOF system shown in
Fig. 1.10, find the natural frequencies (damped and undamped) and mode
shapes. Use the following data: m1 = 2 kg, m2 = 5 kg, k1 =k2 =k3 = 104 N/m.
Use proportional damping with C = 5M+0.0001 K. Use the mode shape
matrix to perform coordinate transformation and decouple the EOMs. Use
the decoupled EOMs to determine the natural frequencies and damping
ratios.
3. Plot the magnitude and phase of the frequency response for the SDOF
system from review exercise 1. Justify the response and discuss the results.
4. Plot the magnitude and phase of the frequency response for the two-
DOF system from review exercise 2 (refer to Fig. 1.10). Discuss the results in
the context of the results from review exercise 2.
References
Balachandran, B., Magrab, E.B., 2019. Vibrations, third ed. Cambridge University Press,
Cambridge, UK.
Choi, Y.-T., Wereley, N.M., 2008. Shock isolation systems using magnetorheological dampers.
J. Vib. Acoust., 130, 024503-1–6.
Dominguez, A., Sedaghati, R., Stiharu, I., 2004. Modelling the hysteresis phenomenon of
magnetorheological dampers. Smart Mater. Struct., 13, 1351–1361.
Inman, D.J., 2014. Engineering Vibration, fourth ed. Pearson, Hoboken, NJ, USA.
Mark, J., Erman, B., Roland, M., 2013. The Science and Technology of Rubber, fourth ed.
Academic Press, Waltham, MA, USA.
Meirovitch, L., 1997. Principles and Techniques of Vibrations. Pearson, Hoboken, NJ, USA.
Rao, S.S., 2007. Vibration of Continuous Systems. Wiley, Hoboken, NJ, USA.
Rao, S.S., 2017. Mechanical Vibrations, sixth ed. Pearson, Hoboken, NJ, USA.
Rivin, E.I., 2003. Passive Vibration Isolation. ASME Press, New York, NY, USA.
Thomson, W.T., Dahleh, M.D., 1998. Theory of Vibration with Applications, fifth ed. Prentice
Hall, Upper Saddle River, NJ, USA.
Tongue, B.H., 2002. Principles of Vibration, second ed. Oxford University Press, New York,
NY, USA.
Truong, T.Q., Ahn, K.K., 2010. A new type of semi-active hydraulic engine mount using
controllable area of inertia track. J. Sound Vib., 329, 247–260.
CHAPTER 2
Viscoelastic modeling—
passive vibration isolators
Contents
2.1 Viscoelasticity 27
2.2 Voigt or Kelvin–Voigt model 28
2.3 Zener model 30
2.4 Maxwell–Voigt model 33
2.5 Generalized Maxwell or Maxwell Ladder model 37
2.6 Voigt fractional model 40
2.7 MV fractional model 42
2.8 Hysteresis model 44
Review exercises 58
References 60
2.1 Viscoelasticity
The exhibition of a combination of viscous and elastic behavior is defined
as viscoelasticity. Viscoelastic behavior is often modeled as a combination
of linear behavior of elastic solids as per Hooke’s law and linear behav-
ior of viscous fluids as per Newton’s law. The theory of viscoelasticity
allows accommodating material behavior that involves storage of mechanical
energy as well as dissipation of energy (Christensen, 2003). Most of the
passive vibration isolators exhibit viscoelastic behavior as they are designed
to provide stiffness and damping characteristics to isolate a system from
dynamic forces while allowing for a means of dissipating energy. The nature
of viscoelasticity can vary significantly from one vibration isolator to another
as the behavior can depend on the design, material selection, geometrical
attributes, environmental conditions, etc. As a result, an appropriate model
that represents key characteristics of the isolator needs to be judiciously
selected. For isotropic materials, it is common to represent the constituent
stress–strain relationship of viscoelastic materials in the form of a governing
differential equation. Such a constituent relationship can be adjusted to allow
incorporating a varying number of spring-damper elements and model any
time lag in resistance to deformation upon the application of a load while
also modeling some aspects of time-dependent behavior. Furthermore, these
Modeling and Analysis of Passive Vibration Isolation Systems. Copyright © 2021 Elsevier Inc.
DOI: 10.1016/B978-0-12-819420-1.00003-0 All rights reserved. 27
28 Modeling and analysis of passive vibration isolation systems
dτ dγ
τ (t ) + D1 = G0 γ + G1 . (2.9)
dt dt
Viscoelastic modeling—passive vibration isolators 31
In Eq. (2.9), D1 , G0 , and G1 are the coefficients of the Zener model. For
an isolator under double shear, Eq. (2.9) can be expressed as
f D1 df δ 1 dδ
+ = G0 + G1 . (2.10)
2A 2A dt h h dt
Applying Laplace transform to Eq. (2.10) with zero initial conditions
results in the following:
2A
F (s)(1 + D1 s) = (G0 + G1 s)(s). (2.11)
h
The variables in Eq. (2.11) are similar to the variables defined in the
previous section for the Voigt model.
The reaction force of the isolator using the Zener model can be expressed
as
f (t ) = ky + c1 (ẏ − ẏ1 ). (2.12)
As there is an additional nodal degree-of-freedom (DOF) due to the
node in the Maxwell element between the spring and the damper, the
equilibrium equation at the node is
c1 (ẏ − ẏ1 ) = k1 y1 . (2.13)
In Eqs. (2.12) and (2.13), y1 is the displacement at the node between
the spring and the damper. Applying Laplace transform with zero initial
conditions to Eq. (2.12) results in the following:
F (s) = (k + c1 s)(s) − c1 sY1 (s). (2.14)
In Eq.(2.14), Y1 (s) is the Laplace transform of y1 (t).Application of Laplace
transform with zero initial conditions to Eq. (2.13) is used to determine Y1 (s)
32 Modeling and analysis of passive vibration isolation systems
in terms of (s) as
c1 s
Y1 (s) = (s). (2.15)
k1 + c1 s
Y1 (s) from Eq. (2.15) is substituted in Eq. (2.14) to eliminate Y1 (s) and
express the governing relationship between F(s) and (s) as
c1 kc1
1 + s F (s) = k + s + c1 s (s). (2.16)
k1 k1
The polynomial coefficients of Eq. (2.16) can be directly compared to
Eq. (2.11) to determine the coefficients of the Zener model as D1 = kc11 ,
G0 = 2A h
k,G1 = 2A ( k1 +c1 ).Furthermore,the stress–strain transfer function
h kc1
It may be noted that Eq. (2.17) is written in the form of a ratio between
stress and strain to express the ratio as the complex modulus for the Zener
model. Furthermore, it may be noted that the force-displacement ratio in
frequency domain is often referred to as dynamic stiffness in the literature.
The governing EOM of an SDOF system supported by an isolator with
a Zener model, as shown in Fig. 2.2, can be expressed as
It is desirable to explain here what was, and is, the particular specific
utility of operations directed toward the destruction of an enemy’s
commerce; what its bearing upon the issues of war; and how, also, it
affects the relative interests of antagonists, unequally paired in the
matter of sea power. Without attempting to determine precisely the
relative importance of internal and external commerce, which varies
with each country, and admitting that the length of transportation
entails a distinct element of increased cost upon the articles
transported, it is nevertheless safe to say that, to nations having free
access to the sea, the export and import trade is a very large factor in
national prosperity and comfort. At the very least, it increases by so
much the aggregate of commercial transactions, while the ease and
copiousness of water carriage go far to compensate for the increase
of distance. Furthermore, the public revenue of maritime states is
largely derived from duties on imports. Hence arises, therefore, a
large source of wealth, of money; and money—ready money or
substantial credit—is proverbially the sinews of war, as the War of
1812 was amply to demonstrate. Inconvertible assets, as business
men know, are a very inefficacious form of wealth in tight times; and
war is always a tight time for a country, a time in which its positive
wealth, in the shape of every kind of produce, is of little use, unless
by freedom of exchange it can be converted into cash for
governmental expenses. To this sea commerce greatly contributes,
and the extreme embarrassment under which the United States as a
nation labored in 1814 was mainly due to commercial exclusion from
the sea. To attack the commerce of the enemy is therefore to cripple
him, in the measure of success achieved, in the particular factor
which is vital to the maintenance of war. Moreover, in the
complicated conditions of mercantile activity no one branch can be
seriously injured without involving others.
This may be called the financial and political effect of “commerce
destroying,” as the modern phrase runs. In military effect, it is
strictly analogous to the impairing of an enemy’s communications, of
the line of supplies connecting an army with its base of operations,
upon the maintenance of which the life of the army depends. Money,
credit, is the life of war; lessen it, and vigor flags; destroy it, and
resistance dies. No resource then remains except to “make war
support war;” that is, to make the vanquished pay the bills for the
maintenance of the army which has crushed him, or which is
proceeding to crush whatever opposition is left alive. This, by the
extraction of private money, and of supplies for the use of his troops,
from the country in which he was fighting, was the method of
Napoleon, than whom no man held more delicate views concerning
the gross impropriety of capturing private property at sea, whither
his power did not extend. Yet this, in effect, is simply another
method of forcing the enemy to surrender a large part of his means,
so weakening him, while transferring it to the victor for the better
propagation of hostilities. The exaction of a pecuniary indemnity
from the worsted party at the conclusion of a war, as is frequently
done, differs from the seizure of property in transit afloat only in
method, and as peace differs from war. In either case, money or
money’s worth is exacted; but when peace supervenes, the method of
collection is left to the Government of the country, in pursuance of its
powers of taxation, to distribute the burden among the people;
whereas in war, the primary object being immediate injury to the
enemy’s fighting power, it is not only legitimate in principle, but
particularly effective, to seek the disorganization of his financial
system by a crushing attack upon one of its important factors,
because effort thus is concentrated on a readily accessible,
fundamental element of his general prosperity. That the loss falls
directly on individuals, or a class, instead of upon the whole
community, is but an incident of war, just as some men are killed
and others not. Indirectly, but none the less surely, the whole
community, and, what is more important, the organized government,
are crippled; offensive powers impaired.
But while this is the absolute tendency of war against commerce,
common to all cases, the relative value varies greatly with the
countries having recourse to it. It is a species of hostilities easily
extemporized by a great maritime nation; it therefore favors one
whose policy is not to maintain a large naval establishment. It opens
a field for a sea militia force, requiring little antecedent military
training. Again, it is a logical military reply to commercial blockade,
which is the most systematic, regularized, and extensive form of
commerce-destruction known to war. Commercial blockade is not to
be confounded with the military measure of confining a body of
hostile ships of war to their harbor, by stationing before it a
competent force. It is directed against merchant vessels, and is not a
military operation in the narrowest sense, in that it does not
necessarily involve fighting, nor propose the capture of the
blockaded harbor. It is not usually directed against military ports,
unless these happen to be also centers of commerce. Its object, which
was the paramount function of the United States Navy during the
Civil War, dealing probably the most decisive blow inflicted upon the
Confederacy, is the destruction of commerce by closing the ports of
egress and ingress. Incidental to that, all ships, neutrals included,
attempting to enter or depart, after public notification through
customary channels, are captured and confiscated as remorselessly
as could be done by the most greedy privateer. Thus constituted, the
operation receives far wider scope than commerce-destruction on the
high seas; for this is confined to merchantmen of belligerents, while
commercial blockade, by universal consent, subjects to capture
neutrals who attempt to infringe it, because, by attempting to defeat
the efforts of one belligerent, they make themselves parties to the
war.
In fact, commercial blockade, though most effective as a military
measure in broad results, is so distinctly commerce-destructive in
essence, that those who censure the one form must logically proceed
to denounce the other. This, as has been seen, Napoleon did; alleging
in his Berlin Decree, in 1806, that war cannot be extended to any
private property whatever, and that the right of blockade is restricted
to fortified places, actually invested by competent forces. This he had
the face to assert, at the very moment when he was compelling every
vanquished state to extract, from the private means of its subjects,
coin running up to hundreds of millions to replenish his military
chest for further extension of hostilities. Had this dictum been
accepted international law in 1861, the United States could not have
closed the ports of the Confederacy, the commerce of which would
have proceeded unmolested; and hostile measures being
consequently directed against men’s persons instead of their trade,
victory, if accomplished at all, would have cost three lives for every
two actually lost.
It is apparent, immediately on statement, that against commerce-
destruction by blockade, the recourse of the weaker maritime
belligerent is commerce-destruction by cruisers on the high sea.
Granting equal efficiency in the use of either measure, it is further
plain that the latter is intrinsically far less efficacious. To cut off
access to a city is much more certainly accomplished by holding the
gates than by scouring the country in search of persons seeking to
enter. Still, one can but do what one can. In 1861 to 1865, the
Southern Confederacy, unable to shake off the death grip fastened on
its throat, attempted counteraction by means of the “Alabama,”
“Sumter,” and their less famous consorts, with what disastrous
influence upon the navigation—the shipping—of the Union it is
needless to insist. But while the shipping of the opposite belligerent
was in this way not only crippled, but indirectly was swept from the
seas, the Confederate cruisers, not being able to establish a blockade,
could not prevent neutral vessels from carrying on the commerce of
the Union. This consequently suffered no serious interruption;
whereas the produce of the South, its inconvertible wealth—cotton
chiefly—was practically useless to sustain the financial system and
credit of the people. So, in 1812 and the two years following, the
United States flooded the seas with privateers, producing an effect
upon British commerce which, though inconclusive singly, doubtless
co-operated powerfully with other motives to dispose the enemy to
liberal terms of peace. It was the reply, and the only possible reply, to
the commercial blockade, the grinding efficacy of which it will be a
principal object of these pages to depict. The issue to us has been
accurately characterized by Mr. Henry Adams, in the single word
“Exhaustion.”[30]
Both parties to the War of 1812 being conspicuously maritime in
disposition and occupation, while separated by three thousand miles
of ocean, the sea and its navigable approaches became necessarily
the most extensive scene of operations. There being between them
great inequality of organized naval strength and of pecuniary
resources, they inevitably resorted, according to their respective
force, to one or the other form of maritime hostilities against
commerce which have been indicated. To this procedure combats on
the high seas were merely incidental. Tradition, professional pride,
and the combative spirit inherent in both peoples, compelled fighting
when armed vessels of nearly equal strength met; but such contests,
though wholly laudable from the naval standpoint, which under
ordinary circumstances cannot afford to encourage retreat from an
equal foe, were indecisive of general results, however meritorious in
particular execution. They had no effect upon the issue, except so far
as they inspired moral enthusiasm and confidence. Still more, in the
sequel they have had a distinctly injurious effect upon national
opinion in the United States. In the brilliant exhibition of enterprise,
professional skill, and usual success, by its naval officers and
seamen, the country has forgotten the precedent neglect of several
administrations to constitute the navy as strong in proportion to the
means of the country as it was excellent through the spirit and
acquirements of its officers. Sight also has been lost of the actual
conditions of repression, confinement, and isolation, enforced upon
the maritime frontier during the greater part of the war, with the
misery and mortification thence ensuing. It has been widely inferred
that the maritime conditions in general were highly flattering to
national pride, and that a future emergency could be confronted with
the same supposed facility, and as little preparation, as the odds of
1812 are believed to have been encountered and overcome. This
mental impression, this picture, is false throughout, alike in its
grouping of incidents, in its disregard of proportion, and in its
ignoring of facts. The truth of this assertion will appear in due course
of this narrative, and it will be seen that, although relieved by many
brilliant incidents, indicative of the real spirit and capacity of the
nation, the record upon the whole is one of gloom, disaster, and
governmental incompetence, resulting from lack of national
preparation, due to the obstinate and blind prepossessions of the
Government, and, in part, of the people.
In the special field proposed for our study, there are two principal
points of such convergence—or divergence: the mouth of the
Mississippi River, and the Central-American Isthmus. At the time
when these lectures were first written the opinion of the world was
hesitating between Panama and Nicaragua as the best site for a canal
through the Isthmus. This question having now been settled
definitively in favor of Panama, the particular point of convergence
for trade routes passing through the Caribbean for the Pacific will
continue at Colon, whither it for so long has been determined
because there is the terminus of the Panama Railroad.
These two meeting points or cross-roads have long been, and still
are, points of supreme interest to all mankind. At the one all the
highways of the Mississippi valley, all the tributaries and sub-
tributaries of the great river, meet, and thence they part. At the other
all highways between the Atlantic and Pacific focus and intersect.
The advancing population and development of the Mississippi valley,
and the completion of the Panama Canal, will work together to cause
this international interest to grow proportionately in the future.
Among the great Powers of the world, no one is concerned so vitally
in this progress as is the United States; because of her possession of
one of these centers, the mouth of the Mississippi with its huge back
country, and because of her geographical nearness to the other. This
peculiar interest, which is natural and inevitable in virtue of
proximity, is emphasized by the national policy known as the
Monroe Doctrine; and still more by the particular result of the
Doctrine which has involved the control, administration, and
military protection of that belt of Isthmian territory called the
Panama Canal Zone.
[In the intervening pages, it is shown that the triangle drawn on
the map (p. 101) includes all points of strategic importance, these
being indicated by black squares. Cuba is the key to the Gulf of
Mexico, and also controls three entrances to the Caribbean—the
Yucatan, Windward, and Mona Passages. The entrances, the chief
points of destination (Jamaica and the Isthmus), and the routes
thither, constitute the main objects of military control in the
Caribbean.—Editor.]
... Taking all together, control over transit depending upon
situation only, other conditions being equal, is greatest with Jamaica,
next with Cuba, least with the Lesser Antilles.
Accepting these conclusions as to control over transit, we now
revert to that question to which all other inquiries are subsidiary,
namely, Which of the three bases of operations in the Caribbean—
one of the Lesser Antilles, Jamaica, or Cuba with its sphere of
influence—is most powerful for military control of the principal
objective points in the same sea? These principal objectives are
Jamaica and the Isthmus; concerning the relative importance of
which it may be remarked that, while the Isthmus intrinsically, and
to the general interest of the world, is incomparably the more
valuable, the situation of Jamaica gives such command over all the
approaches to the Isthmus, as to make it in a military sense the
predominant factor in the control of the Caribbean. Jamaica is a pre-
eminent instance of central position, conferring the advantage of
interior lines, for action in every direction within the field to which it
belongs.
Military control depends chiefly upon two things, position and
active military strength. As equal military strength has been assumed
throughout, it is now necessary only to compare the positions held by
other states in the field with that of the occupant of Cuba. This
inquiry also is limited to the ability either to act offensively against
these objective points, or, on the contrary, to defend them if already
held by oneself or an ally; transit having been considered already.
Control by virtue of position, over a point external to your
territory, depends upon nearness in point of time and upon the
absence of obstacles capable of delaying or preventing your access to
it.
Both Santiago (or Guantanamo) and Cienfuegos are nearer to the
Isthmus than is any other one of the first-class strategic points that
have been chosen on the borders of the Caribbean Sea, including
Samana Bay and St. Thomas. They are little more than half the
distance of the British Santa Lucia and the French Martinique. The
formidable island and military stronghold of Jamaica, within the sea,
is nearer the Isthmus than Guantanamo is, by one hundred and fifty
miles, and than Cienfuegos by yet more.
Taking into consideration situation only, Jamaica is admirably
placed for the control of the Caribbean. It is equidistant from Colon,
from the Yucatan Passage, and from the Mona Passage. It shares
with Guantanamo and Santiago control of the Windward Passage,
and of that along the south coast of Cuba; while, with but a slight
stretching out of its arm, it reaches the routes from the Gulf of
Mexico to the Isthmus. Above all, as towards Cuba, it so blocks the
road to the Isthmus that any attempt directed upon the Isthmus
from Cuba must first have to account with the military and naval
forces of Jamaica.
There are, however, certain deductions to be made from the
strength of Jamaica that do not apply as forcibly to Cuba. Leaving to
one side the great and widely scattered colonial system of Great
Britain, which always throws that empire on the defensive and
invites division of the fleet, owing to the large number of points open
to attack, and confining our attention strictly to the field before us, it
will be observed that in a scheme of British operations Jamaica is
essentially, as has been said before, an advanced post; singularly well
situated, it is true, but still with long and difficult communications.
Its distance from Antigua, a possible intermediate base of supplies, is
over nine hundred miles; from Santa Lucia, the chief British naval
station in the Lesser Antilles, over one thousand miles, not less than
three days’ economical steaming. Great Britain, if at war with a state
possessing Cuba, is shut out from the Windward Passage by
Guantanamo, and from the Gulf of Mexico by Havana. The Mona
Passage, also, though not necessarily closed, will be too dangerous to
be relied upon. For these reasons, in order to maintain
communications with Jamaica, an intermediate position and depot,
like Santa Lucia, will be urgently needed. Supplies coming from
Bermuda, Halifax, or England would probably have to be collected
first there, or at Antigua, and thence make a more secure, but still
exposed, voyage to Kingston. The north coasts of Cuba and Haiti
must be looked upon as practically under the control of the Cuban
fleet, in consequence of the command which it exercises over the
Windward Passage, by virtue of position.
The possessor of Cuba, on the contrary, by his situation has open
communication with the Gulf of Mexico, which amounts to saying
that he has all the resources of the United States at his disposal,
through the Mississippi Valley. Cruisers from Jamaica attempting to
intercept that trade would be at a great disadvantage, especially as to
coal, compared with their enemy resting upon Havana. Cruisers from
Havana, reaching their cruising ground with little or no
consumption, can therefore remain longer, and consequently are
equivalent to a greater number of ships. On the other hand, cruisers
from Santiago could move almost with impunity by the north side of
Haiti as far as the Mona Passage, and beyond that without any other
risk than that of meeting and fighting vessels of equal size. If they
stretch their efforts toward the Anegada Passage, they would feel the
same disadvantage, relatively to cruisers from Santa Lucia, that
Jamaica cruisers in the Gulf would undergo as compared with those
from Havana; but by inclining their course more to the northward, to
or about the point Q (see map, page 101), they would there be
equidistant from Guantanamo and Santa Lucia, and so on an
equality with the latter, while at the same time in a position gravely
to endanger supplies from any point in North America. If it be
replied that Bermuda can take care of these cruisers at Q, the answer
is plain: on the supposition of equal forces, it can do so only by
diminishing the force at Santa Lucia. In short, when compared with
Jamaica, in respect of strategic relations to Bermuda, Halifax, and
Santa Lucia, Cuba enjoys the immense advantage of a central
position, and of interior lines of communication, with consequent
concentration of force and effort.
It is not easy to see how, in the face of these difficulties, Great
Britain, in the supposed case of equal force in this theater of war,
could avoid dividing her fleet sufficiently to put Jamaica at a
disadvantage as to Cuba. In truth, Cuba here enjoys not only the
other advantages of situation already pointed out, but also that of
being central as regards the enemy’s positions; and what is, perhaps,
even more important, she possesses secure interior land lines of
supply and coal between the points of her base, while covering the
sea lines in her rear, in the Gulf of Mexico. For Guantanamo and
Santiago have communication by rail with Havana, while the island
itself covers the lines from Havana to the Gulf coast of the United
States; whereas Jamaica depends wholly upon the sea, by lines of
communication not nearly as well sheltered.
Contrasted with Cuba, Jamaica is seen to be, as has been more
than once said, a strong advanced post, thrust well forward into the
face of an enemy to which it is much inferior in size and resources,
and therefore dependent for existence upon its power of holding out,
despite uncertain and possibly suspended communication. Its case
resembles that of Minorca, Malta, Gibraltar, the endurance of which,
when cut off from the sea, has always been measurable. The question
here before us, however, is not that of mere holding out on the
defensive, which would be paralysis. If Cuba can reduce Jamaica to a
passive defensive, Jamaica disappears as a factor in the control of the
Caribbean and Isthmus—no obstacle then stands in the way of Cuba
using her nearness to Panama. If Cuba can bring about a scarcity of
coal at Kingston she achieves a strategic advantage; if a coal famine,
the enemy’s battle fleet must retire, probably to the Lesser Antilles.
The case of Jamaica, contrasted with Cuba, covers that of all
strategic points on the borders of the Caribbean Sea, east, west,
north, or south. Almost on the border itself, although within it,
Jamaica has in nearness, in situation, in size, and in resources, a
decisive advantage over any of the ports of Haiti or of the smaller
islands. If Jamaica is inferior to Cuba, then is each of the other
points on the circumference, and, it may be added, all of them
together....
[It is shown that, while Santa Lucia is essential to Jamaica, the two
are too far apart to work together in concert. As for the Lesser
Antilles, they may be said to control the approaches from Europe,
while Cuba controls those from North America; but the Antilles are
twice as far from the Isthmus as Cuba is, and much weaker in
resources.—Editor.]
As to resources, those of all the West India islands for war will
depend mainly upon the policy and preparation of the governments.
Except Cuba, they are deficient in natural resources adequately
developed. Outside of direct governmental action it can only be said
that the much greater population of Cuba will draw more supplies
and furnish more material for troops and garrisons. At present, as
already noted, the resources of the United States are in effect also the
resources of Cuba.
As between the three possible bases for attempted control of the
Caribbean, no doubts can remain that Cuba is the most powerful,
Jamaica next, and the Antilles least. Jamaica being where it is, Cuba
cannot put forth her power against the Isthmus or against the lines
of transit in the Caribbean, until she has materially reduced, if not
neutralized, the offensive power of her smaller opponent. Upon the
supposition of equal fleets, if the Cuban fleet move against the
Isthmus, or into the Caribbean, it uncovers its communications; if it
seeks to cover these, it divides its force. Jamaica exactly meets the
case supposed in a previous chapter: “If, in moving upon the coveted
objective you pass by a strategic point held by the enemy, capable of
sheltering his ships—a point from which he may probably intercept
your supplies of coal or ammunition, the circle of influence of that
point will require your attention and reduce your force.”
In that case it was laid down that, if you cannot observe the port
without reducing your fleet below that of the enemy, you must not
divide it; either the intermediate point must be taken, or, if you think
you can accomplish your special aim with the supplies on board, you
may cut loose from your base, giving up your communications.
Undoubtedly, the same difficulty would be felt by the Jamaica fleet, if
it moved away from home leaving the Cuban fleet in port in Santiago
or Guantanamo; but, of the two, Jamaica has the inside track. It is
not so with operations based upon the Lesser Antilles only, and
directed against the Isthmus, or against any position in the western
basin of the Caribbean, Cuba being hostile; the line of
communication in that case is so long as to be a very serious
comparative disadvantage.
Upon the whole, then, Jamaica, though less powerful than Cuba,
seems to deserve the title of the “key to the Caribbean.” Only when
Cuba has mastered it can she predominantly control the positions of
that sea. But if Jamaica in this sense be the key, Cuba has the grip
that can wrest it away. Secure as to her own communications, in the
rear, towards the Gulf of Mexico, Cuba has it in her power to impose
upon her enemy a line so long and insecure as to be finally
untenable. First a scarcity of coal, then a famine, lastly the retreat of
the Jamaica fleet to the most available coal station. Such is the
solution I believe possible to the military problem of the Caribbean
as dependent upon geographical conditions,—that is, upon positions;
concerning which Napoleon has said that “War is a business of
positions.” The instant the Cuban fleet has gained a decided
superiority over that of Jamaica, it can take a position covering at
once the approaches to that island and the Windward Channel,
keeping all its own ships in hand while cutting off the enemy’s
supplies and reinforcements. The converse is not true of the Jamaica
fleet, in case it gains a momentary superiority, because the southern
ports of Cuba should be able to receive supplies by land, from the
Gulf of Mexico through Havana.
The general discussion of the strategic features of the Gulf of
Mexico and Caribbean ends here; but the treatment of the subject
will not be complete, unless there be some further specific
consideration of the bearing which the conclusions reached have
upon the facilities of the United States for naval action in the region
studied.
[The political developments between 1887 and 1911 are here
considered, including the growth of the American Navy; the
construction of the Panama Canal; the acquisition by the United
States of strategic points along the line from Key West to Culebra
Island, centering at Guantanamo and “most effectual for military and
naval action in the Caribbean;” and, finally, our increased
responsibilities arising from the growth of the German Navy and the
consequent limitation of England’s co-operation in support of the
Monroe Doctrine.—Editor.]
... The Caribbean Sea and the Isthmus of Panama furnish the
student of naval strategy with a very marked illustration of the
necessity of such cohesion and mutual support between military
positions assumed; as well as between those positions and the army
in the field,—that is, the navy. It affords therefore a subject of the
first importance for such a student to master, and that in fuller detail
than is expedient for a series of lectures, the object of which should
be to suggest lines of thought, rather than to attempt exhaustive
treatment. For an American naval officer, the intimate relation of the
Isthmus and its coming canal to the mutual support of the Atlantic
and Pacific coasts renders the subject doubly interesting. This
interest is yet farther increased by the consideration that the general
international importance to commerce of such a point as the Canal
can scarcely fail to make the conditions of its tenure and use a source
of international difference and negotiation, which often are war
under another form; that is, the solution depends upon military
power, even though held in the background. There are questions
other than commercial dependent upon the tenure of the Isthmus, of
which I will not here speak explicitly. To appreciate them fully there
must be constant reading and reflection upon the general topics of
the day.
One thing is sure: in the Caribbean Sea is the strategic key to the
two great oceans, the Atlantic and Pacific, our own chief maritime
frontiers.
12. Principles of Naval Administration
Opposing Elements[34]