28377	----	book was created from images of public domain material made available by the University of Toronto Libraries (http://link.library.utoronto.ca/booksonline/).) * * * * * +-----------------------------------------------------------+ | Transcriber's Note: | | | | Inconsistent hyphenation in the original document has | | been preserved. | | | | Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. For | | a complete list, please see the end of this document. | | | +-----------------------------------------------------------+ * * * * * Lessons of the War with Spain And Other Articles Lessons of the War with Spain _And Other Articles_ BY ALFRED T. MAHAN, D.C.L., LL.D. Captain United States Navy AUTHOR OF "THE INTEREST OF AMERICA IN SEA POWER," "THE INFLUENCE OF SEA POWER UPON HISTORY, 1660-1783," "THE INFLUENCE OF SEA POWER UPON THE FRENCH REVOLUTION AND EMPIRE," "THE LIFE OF NELSON, THE EMBODIMENT OF THE SEA POWER OF GREAT BRITAIN," AND OF A "LIFE OF FARRAGUT" BOSTON LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 1899 _Copyright, 1898, 1899,_ BY THE S.S. MCCLURE CO. _Copyright, 1898,_ BY HARPER AND BROTHERS _Copyright, 1899,_ BY THE NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW PUBLISHING CO. _Copyright, 1899,_ BY JOHN R. DUNLAP _Copyright, 1899,_ BY ALFRED T. MAHAN _All rights reserved_ University Press JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. PREFACE The original intention, with which the leading articles of the present collection were undertaken, was to elicit some of the lessons derivable from the war between the United States and Spain; but in the process of conception and of treatment there was imparted to them the further purpose of presenting, in a form as little technical and as much popular as is consistent with seriousness of treatment, some of the elementary conceptions of warfare in general and of naval warfare in particular. The importance of popular understanding in such matters is twofold. It promotes interest and induces intelligent pressure upon the representatives of the people, to provide during peace the organization of force demanded by the conditions of the nation; and it also tends to avert the unintelligent pressure which, when war exists, is apt to assume the form of unreasoning and unreasonable panic. As a British admiral said two hundred years ago, "It is better to be alarmed now, as I am, than next summer when the French fleet may be in the Channel." Indifference in times of quiet leads directly to perturbation in emergency; for when emergency comes, indifference is found to have resulted in ignorance, and fear is never so overpowering as when, through want of comprehension, there is no check upon the luxuriance of the imagination. It is, of course, vain to expect that the great majority of men should attain even an elementary knowledge of what constitutes the strength or weakness of a military situation; but it does not seem extravagant to hope that the individuals, who will interest themselves thus far, may be numerous enough, and so distributed throughout a country, as to constitute rallying points for the establishment of a sound public opinion, and thus, in critical moments, to liberate the responsible authorities from demands which, however unreasonable, no representative government can wholly withstand. The articles do not in any sense constitute a series. Written for various occasions, at various times, there is in them no sequence of treatment, or even of conception. Except the last, however, they all have had a common origin in the war with Spain. This may seem somewhat questionable as regards the one on the Peace Conference; but, without assuming to divine all the motives which led to the call for that assembly, the writer is persuaded that between it and the war there was the direct sequence of a corollary to its proposition. The hostilities with Spain brought doubtless the usual train of sufferings, but these were not on such a scale as in themselves to provoke an outcry for universal peace. The political consequences, on the other hand, were much in excess of those commonly resultant from war,--even from maritime war. The quiet, superficially peaceful progress with which Russia was successfully advancing her boundaries in Asia, adding gain to gain, unrestrained and apparently irrestrainable, was suddenly confronted with the appearance of the United States in the Philippines, under conditions which made inevitable both a continuance of occupancy and a great increase of military and naval strength. This intrusion, into a sphere hitherto alien to it, of a new military power, capable of becoming one of the first force, if it so willed, was momentous in itself; but it was attended further with circumstances which caused Great Britain, and Great Britain alone among the nations of the earth, to appear the friend of the United States in the latter's conflict. How this friendliness was emphasized in the Philippines is a matter of common report. Coincident with all this, though also partly preceding it, has been the growing recognition by the western nations, and by Japan, of the imminence of great political issues at stake in the near future of China. Whether regarded as a field for commerce, or for the exercise of the varied activities by which the waste places of the earth are redeemed and developed, it is evidently a matter of economical--and therefore of political--importance to civilized nations to prevent the too preponderant control there of any one of their number, lest the energies of their own citizens be debarred from a fair opportunity to share in these advantages. The present conditions, and the recent manifestations of antagonism and rivalry, are too well known for repetition. The general situation is sufficiently understood, yet it is doubtful whether the completeness and rapidity of the revolution which has taken place in men's thoughts about the Pacific are duly appreciated. They are shown not only by overt aggressive demands of various European states, or by the extraordinary change of sentiment on the subject of expansion that has swept over America, but very emphatically by the fact, little noted yet well assured, that leading statesmen of Japan--which only three years ago warned the United States Government that even the annexation of Hawaii could not by her be seen with indifference--now welcome our presence in the Philippines. This altered attitude, on the part of a people of such keen intelligence, has a justification which should not be ignored, and a significance which should not be overlooked. It bears vivid testimony to the rate at which events, as well as their appreciation of events and of conditions, have been advancing. It is one of the symptoms of a gathering accord of conviction upon a momentous subject. At such a time, and on such a scene, the sympathetic drawing together of the two great English-speaking nations, intensely commercial and enterprising, yet also intensely warlike when aroused, and which exceed all others in their possibilities of maritime greatness, gave reason for reflection far exceeding that which springs from imaginative calculations of the future devastations of war. It was a direct result of the war with Spain, inevitably suggesting a probable drift towards concurrent action upon the greatest question of the immediate future, in which the influence of force will be none the less real because sedulously kept in the background of controversies. If, however, the organic development of military strength could be temporarily arrested by general agreement, or by the prevalence of an opinion that war is practically a thing of the past, the odds would be in favor of the state which at the moment of such arrest enjoys the most advantageous conditions of position, and of power already created. In reproducing these articles, the writer has done a little editing, of which it is needless to speak except in one respect. His views on the utility of coast fortification have met with pronounced adverse criticism in some quarters in England. Of this he has neither cause nor wish to complain; but he is somewhat surprised that his opinions on the subject here expressed are thought to be essentially opposed to those he has previously avowed in his books,--the Influence of Sea-Power upon History, and upon the French Revolution. While wholly convinced of the primacy of the navy in maritime warfare, and maintaining the subordination to it of the elements of power which rest mainly upon land positions, he has always clearly recognized, and incidentally stated, not only the importance of the latter, but the general necessity of affording them the security of fortification, which enables a weaker force to hold its own against sudden attack, and until relief can be given. Fortifications, like natural accidents of ground, serve to counterbalance superiority of numbers, or other disparity of means; both in land and sea warfare, therefore, and in both strategy and tactics, they are valuable adjuncts to a defence, for they constitute a passive reinforcement of strength, which liberates an active equivalent, in troops or in ships, for offensive operations. Nor was it anticipated that when coast defence by fortification was affirmed to be a nearly constant element, the word "constant" would be understood to mean the same for all countries, or under varying conditions of popular panic, instead of applying to the deliberate conclusions of competent experts dealing with a particular military problem. Of the needs of Great Britain, British officers should be the best judge, although even there there is divergence of opinion; but to his own countrymen the author would say that our experience has shown that adequate protection of a frontier, by permanent works judiciously planned, conduces to the energetic prosecution of offensive war. The fears for Washington in the Civil War, and for our chief seaports in the war with Spain, alike illustrate the injurious effects of insufficient home defence upon movements of the armies in the field, or of the navies in campaign. In both instances dispositions of the mobile forces, vicious from a purely military standpoint, were imposed by fears for stationary positions believed, whether rightly or wrongly, to be in peril. For the permission to republish these articles the author begs to thank the proprietors of the several periodicals in which they first appeared. The names of these, and the dates, are given, together with the title of each article, in the Table of Contents. CONTENTS LESSONS OF THE WAR WITH SPAIN, 1898. McClure's Magazine, December, 1898-April, 1899. PAGE INTRODUCTORY: COMPREHENSION OF MILITARY AND NAVAL MATTERS POSSIBLE TO THE PEOPLE, AND IMPORTANT TO THE NATION 3 I. How the Motive of the War gave Direction to its Earlier Movements.--Strategic Value of Puerto Rico.--Considerations on the Size and Qualities of Battleships.--Mutual Relations of Coast Defence and Navy 21 II. The Effect of Deficient Coast-Defence upon the Movements of the Navy.--The Military and Naval Conditions of Spain at the Outbreak of the War 53 III. Possibilities open to the Spanish Navy at the Beginning of the War.--The Reasons for Blockading Cuba.--First Movements of the Squadrons under Admirals Sampson and Cervera 90 IV. Problems presented by Cervera's Appearance in West Indian Waters.--Movements of the United States Divisions and of the _Oregon_.--Functions of Cruisers in a Naval Campaign 126 V. The Guard set over Cervera.--Influence of Inadequate Numbers upon the Conduct of Naval and Military Operations.--Cámara's Rush through the Mediterranean, and Consequent Measures taken by the United States 170 THE PEACE CONFERENCE AND THE MORAL ASPECT OF WAR 207 North American Review, October, 1899. THE RELATIONS OF THE UNITED STATES TO THEIR NEW DEPENDENCIES 241 Engineering Magazine, January, 1899. DISTINGUISHING QUALITIES OF SHIPS OF WAR 257 Scripps-McRae Newspaper League, November, 1898. CURRENT FALLACIES UPON NAVAL SUBJECTS 277 Harpers' Monthly Magazine, June, 1898. MAPS ISLAND OF CUBA _To face page_ 59 THE CARIBBEAN SEA _To face page_ 113 LESSONS OF THE WAR WITH SPAIN AND OTHER ARTICLES LESSONS OF THE WAR WITH SPAIN INTRODUCTORY COMPREHENSION OF MILITARY AND NAVAL MATTERS POSSIBLE TO THE PEOPLE, AND IMPORTANT TO THE NATION. It is somewhat of a commonplace among writers upon the Art of War, that with it, as with Art in general, the leading principles remain unimpaired from age to age. When recognized and truly mastered, not held by a passive acquiescence in the statements of another, but really appropriated, so as to enter decisively into a man's habit of thought, forming in that direction the fibre of his mind, they not only illuminate conditions apparently novel, by revealing the essential analogies between them and the past, but they supply the clue by which the intricacies of the present can best be threaded. Nothing could be more utterly superficial, for instance, than the remark of a popular writer that "the days of tacks and sheets"--of sailing ships, that is--"have no value as lessons for the days of steam and armor." Contrast with such an utterance the saying of the great master of the art,--Napoleon: "If a man will surprise the secrets of warfare, let him study the campaigns of Hannibal and of Cæsar, as well as those of Frederick the Great and my own." Comprehension of warfare, therefore, consists, first, in the apprehension and acceptance--the mental grasp--of a few simple general principles, elucidated and formulated by admitted authorities upon the subject, and, second, in copious illustration of these principles by the application of them to numerous specific instances, drawn from actual experiences of war--from history. Such illustration, adequately developed by exposition of facts and of principles in the several cases, pointing out, where necessary, substantial identity underlying superficial diversity, establishes gradually a body of precedents, which reinforce, by all the weight of cumulative authority, the principle that they illuminate. Thus is laid the substantial foundation upon which the Art of War securely rests. It is perhaps advisable--though it should be needless--to say that, when a student has achieved such comprehension, when his mind has mastered the principles, and his memory is richly stored with well-ordered precedents, he is, in war, as in all other active pursuits of life, but at the beginning of his labors. He has girded on his armor, but he has not yet proved it,--far less is qualified to boast as one about to put it off after a good life's fight. It remains yet to be seen whether he has the gifts and the manhood to use that which he has laboriously acquired, or whether, as happens with many other men apparently well qualified, and actually well furnished with the raw material of knowledge in various professions, he will be unable to turn power into success. This question trial alone can decide in each individual case; but while experience thus forces all to realize that knowledge does not necessarily imply capacity to use it, that there may be foundation upon which no superstructure will be raised, few--and those not the wisest--are inclined to dispute that antecedent training, well-ordered equipment, where other things are equal, does give a distinct advantage to the man who has received it. The blaze of glory and of success which, after forty years of patient waiting, crowned the last six months of Havelock's life, raising him from obscurity to a place among the immortals, attests the rapidity with which the perfect flower of achievement can bud and fully bloom, when, and only when, good seed has been sown in ground fitly prepared. There are two principal methods of imparting the illustrations that, in their entirety, compose the body of precedents, by which the primary teachings of the Art of War are at once elucidated and established. By the first, the several principles may be separately stated, more or less at large, each being followed closely by the appropriate illustrations, drawn, as these in such a treatment most suitably may, from different periods and from conditions which on the surface appear most divergent. Or, on the other hand, the consecutive narrative of a particular series of operations may be given, in such detail as is necessary, accompanied by a running commentary or criticism, in which the successive occurrences are brought to the test of recognized standards; inference being drawn, or judgment passed, accordingly. The former is the more formal and methodical; it serves better, perhaps, for starting upon his career the beginner who proposes to make war the profession of his life; for it provides him, in a compact and systematic manner, with certain brief rules, by the use of which he can most readily apply, to his subsequent reading of military history, criteria drawn from the experience of centuries. He is thus supplied, in short, with digested knowledge. But digestion by other minds can in no wise take the place of assimilation performed by one's own mental processes. The cut and dried information of the lecture room, and of the treatise, must in every profession be supplemented by the hard work of personal practice; and failing the experience of the campaign,--of actual warfare,--the one school of progress for the soldier or seaman is to be found in the study of military and naval history, which embodies the experience of others. To such study the second method contributes; it bears to the first the relation of an advanced course. Nor let it be supposed that the experience of others, thus imparted, is a poor substitute for that acquired by the actual hard work of the field, or of the ocean. By the process, the fruit possibly may not be fully matured; but it arrives at that perfection of form which requires but a few suns to ripen. This, moreover, if not the only way by which experience in the art of directing operations of war--of command-in-chief--can be stored, is by far the most comprehensive and thorough; for while utility cannot be denied to annual manoeuvres, and to the practice of the sham battle, it must be remembered that these, dealing with circumstances limited both in time and place, give a very narrow range of observation; and, still more important, as was remarked by the late General Sherman, the moral elements of danger and uncertainty, which count for so much in real warfare, cannot be adequately reproduced in mimic. The field of military history, on the other hand, has no limit short of the military experience of the race; it records the effect of moral influences of every kind, as well as of the most diverse material conditions; the personal observation of even the greatest of captains is in comparison but narrow. "What experience of command," says one of the most eminent, "can a general have, before he is called to command? and the experience of what one commander, even after years of warfare, can cover all cases?" Therefore he prescribes study; and as a help thereto tells the story of one of his most successful campaigns, accompanying it with a commentary in which he by no means spares himself. Napoleon abounds in the same sense. "On the field of battle the happiest inspiration is often but a recollection,"--not necessarily of one's own past; and he admitted in after years that no finer work had been done by him than in his first campaign, to which he came--a genius indeed, but--with the acquisitions chiefly of a student, deep-steeped in reading and reflection upon the history of warfare. The utility of such study of military history to the intending warrior is established, not only by a few such eminent authorities, but by a consensus among the leading soldiers and seamen of our own day, whether they personally have, or have not, had the opportunity of command in war. It may be asserted to be a matter of contemporary professional agreement, as much as any other current opinion that now obtains. In such study, native individual capacity and individual temperament will largely affect inference and opinion; not only causing them to differ more or less, but resulting frequently in direct opposition of conclusion. It cannot be otherwise; for, like all other callings of active life, war is a matter, not merely of knowledge and of general principles, but of sound judgment, without which both information and rules, being wrongly applied, become useless. Opinions, even of the most eminent, while accorded the respect due to their reputation, should therefore be brought to the test of personal reflection. The study of the Art and History of War is pre-eminently necessary to men of the profession, but there are reasons which commend it also, suitably presented, to all citizens of our country. Questions connected with war--when resort to war is justifiable, preparation for war, the conduct of war--are questions of national moment, in which each voter--nay, each talker--has an influence for intelligent and adequate action, by the formation of sound public opinion; and public opinion, in operation, constitutes national policy. Hence it is greatly to be desired that there should be more diffused interest in the critical study of warfare in its broader lines. Knowledge of technical details is not necessary to the apprehension of the greater general principles, nor to an understanding of the application of those principles to particular cases, when made by individual students,--officers or others. The remark is sometimes heard, "When military or naval officers agree, Congress--or the people--may be expected to act." The same idea applied to other professions--waiting for universal agreement--would bring the world to a standstill. Better must be accepted without waiting for best. Better is more worth having to-day than best is the day after the need has come and gone. Hesitation and inaction, continued till the doctors agree, may result in the death of the patient; yet such hesitation is almost inevitable where there is no formed public opinion, and quite inevitable where there is no public interest antecedent to the emergency arising. It may be due to the bias of personal or professional inclination that the present writer believes that military history,--including therein naval,--simply and clearly presented in its leading outlines, divested of superfluous and merely technical details, would be found to possess an interest far exceeding that which is commonly imagined. The logical coherence of any series of events, as of any process of Nature, possesses an innate attraction for the inquisitive element of which few intelligent minds are devoid. Unfortunately, technical men are prone to delight in their technicalities, and to depreciate, with the adjective "popular," attempts to bring their specialties within the comprehension of the general public, or to make them pleasing and attractive to it. However it may be with other specialties, the utility of which is more willingly admitted, the navy and army in our country cannot afford to take such an attitude. The brilliant, but vague, excitement and glory of war, in its more stirring phases, touches readily the popular imagination, as does intense action of every description. It has all the charm of the dramatic, heightened by the splendor of the heroic. But where there is no appeal beyond the imagination to the intellect, such impressions lack distinctness, and leave no really useful results. While there is a certain exaltation in sharing, through vivid narrative, the emotions of those who have borne a part in some deed of conspicuous daring, the fascination does not equal that wrought upon the intellect, as it traces for the first time the long-drawn sequence by which successive occurrences are seen to issue in their necessary results, or causes apparently remote to converge upon a common end, and understanding succeeds to the previous sense of bewilderment, which is produced by military events as too commonly treated. There is, moreover, no science--or art--which lends itself to such exposition more readily than does the Art of War. Its principles are clear, and not numerous. Outlines of operations, presented in skeleton, as they usually may be, are in most instances surprisingly clear; and, these once grasped, the details fall into place with a readiness and a precision that convey an ever increasing intellectual enjoyment. The writer has more than once been witness of the pleasure thus occasioned to men wholly strangers to military matters; a pleasure partly of novelty, but which possesses the elements of endurance because the stimulus is one that renews itself continually, opening field after field for the exercise of the mind. If such pleasure were the sole result, however, there might be well-founded diffidence in recommending the study. The advantage conferred upon the nation by a more wide-spread and intelligent understanding of military matters, as a factor in national life that must exist for some ages to come, and one which recent events, so far from lessening, have rendered more conspicuous and more necessary, affords a sounder ground for insisting that it is an obligation of each citizen to understand something of the principles of warfare, and of the national needs in respect of preparation, as well as thrill with patriotic emotion over an heroic episode or a brilliant victory. It is with the object of contributing to such intelligent comprehension that the following critical narrative, which first appeared in one of our popular monthlies, is again submitted to the public in its present form. It professes no more than to be an attempt, by a student of military as well as naval warfare, to present a reasoned outline of a part of the operations of the war, interspersed with such reflections upon naval warfare, in its generals and its particulars, as have arisen naturally in the course of the story. The method adopted, consequently, is the second of those mentioned in the beginning of these remarks; a consecutive narrative, utilized as a medium for illustrating the principles of war. The application of those principles in this discussion represents the views of one man, believed by him to be in accordance with a considerable body of professional thought, although for this he has no commission to speak; but to some of them also there is, in other quarters, a certain distinct professional opposition. The aim of the author here, as in all his writings, has been so to present his theme as to invest it with the rational interest attaching to a clear exposition of causes and effects, as shown in a series of events. Where he may have failed, the failure is in himself, not in his subject. The recent Spanish-American War, while possessing, as every war does, characteristics of its own, differentiating it from others, nevertheless, in its broad analogies, falls into line with its predecessors, evidencing that unity of teaching which pervades the art from its beginnings unto this day. It has, moreover, the special value of illustrating the reciprocal needs and offices of the army and the navy, than which no lesson is more valuable to a nation situated as ours is. Protected from any serious attempt at invasion by our isolated position, and by our vast intrinsic strength, we are nevertheless vulnerable in an extensive seaboard, greater, relatively to our population and wealth--great as they are--than that of any other state. Upon this, moreover, rests an immense coasting trade, the importance of which to our internal commercial system is now scarcely realized, but will be keenly felt if we ever are unable to insure its freedom of movement. We also are committed, inevitably and irrevocably, to an over-sea policy, to the successful maintenance of which will be needed, not only lofty political conceptions of right and of honor, but also the power to support, and if need be to enforce, the course of action which such conceptions shall from time to time demand. Such maintenance will depend primarily upon the navy, but not upon it alone; there will be needed besides an adequate and extremely mobile army, and an efficient correlation of the one with the other, based upon an accurate conception of their respective functions. The true corrective to the natural tendency of each to exaggerate its own importance to the common end is to be found only in some general understanding of the subject diffused throughout the body of the people, who are the ultimate arbiters of national policy. In short, the people of the United States will need to understand, not only what righteousness dictates, but what power, military and naval, requires, in order duly to assert itself. The disappointment and impatience, now being manifested in too many quarters, over the inevitable protraction of the military situation in the Philippines, indicates a lack of such understanding; for, did it exist, men would not need to be told that even out of the best material, of which we have an abundance, a soldier is not made in a day, nor an army in a season; that when these, the necessary tools, are wanting, or are insufficient in number, the work cannot but lag until they are supplied; in short, that in war, as in every calling, he who wills the end must also understand and will the means. It was the same with the wide-spread panic that swept along our seaboard at the beginning of the late war. So far as it was excusable, it was due to the want of previous preparation; so far as it was unreasonable, it was due to ignorance; but both the want of preparation and the ignorance were the result of the preceding general indifference of the nation to military and naval affairs, an indifference which necessarily had found its reflection in the halting and inadequate provisions made by Congress. Although changes and additions have been introduced where it has seemed expedient, the author has decided to allow these articles to stand, in the main, substantially as written immediately after the close of hostilities. The opening paragraphs, while less applicable, in their immediate purport, to the present moment, are nevertheless not inappropriate as an explanation of the general tenor of the work itself; and they suggest, moreover, another line of reflection upon the influence, imperceptibly exerted, and passively accepted in men's minds, by the quiet passing of even a single calendar year. The very lapse of time and subsidence of excitement which tend to insure dispassionate and impartial treatment by the historian, and a juster proportion of impression in spectators, tend also to produce indifference and lethargy in the people at large; whereas in fact the need for sustained interest of a practical character still exists. Intelligent provision for the present and future ought now to succeed to the emotional experiences of the actual war. The reading public has been gorged and surfeited with war literature, a fact which has been only too painfully realized by publishers and editors, who purvey for its appetite and have overstocked the larder. Coincident with this has come an immense wave of national prosperity and consequent business activity, which increasingly engross the attention of men's minds. So far as the mere movement of the imagination, or the stirring of the heart is concerned, this reaction to indifference after excessive agitation was inevitable, and is not in itself unduly to be deplored; but it will be a matter, not merely of lasting regret, but of permanent harm, if the nation again sinks into the general apathy concerning its military and naval necessities which previously existed, and which, as the experience of Great Britain has shown, is unfortunately characteristic of popular representative governments, where present votes are more considered than future emergencies. Not the least striking among the analogies of warfare are the sufferings undergone, and the risks of failure incurred, through imperfect organization, in the Crimea, and in our own recent hostilities with Spain. And let not the public deceive itself, nor lay the fault exclusively, or even chiefly, upon its servants, whether in the military services or in the halls of Congress. The one and the other will respond adequately to any demand made upon them, if the means are placed betimes in their hands; and the officers of the army and navy certainly have not to reproach themselves, as a body, with official failure to represent the dangers, the exposure, and the needs of the commonwealth. It should be needless to add that circumstances now are greatly changed, through the occurrences of last year; and that henceforth the risks from neglect, if continued, will vastly exceed those of former days. The issue lies with the voters. I HOW THE MOTIVE OF THE WAR GAVE DIRECTION TO ITS EARLIER MOVEMENTS.--STRATEGIC VALUE OF PUERTO RICO.-- CONSIDERATIONS ON THE SIZE AND QUALITIES OF BATTLESHIPS.--MUTUAL RELATIONS OF COAST DEFENCE AND NAVY. It is a common and a true remark that final judgment cannot be passed upon events still recent. Not only is time required for the mere process of collecting data, of assorting and testing the numerous statements, always imperfect and often conflicting, which form the material for history, but a certain and not very short interval must be permitted to elapse during which men's brains and feelings may return to normal conditions, and permit the various incidents which have exalted or depressed them to be seen in their totality, as well as in their true relative importance. There are thus at least two distinct operations essential to that accuracy of judgment to which alone finality can be attributed,--first, the diligent and close study of detail, by which knowledge is completed; and, second, a certain detachment of the mind from the prejudgments and passions engendered by immediate contact, a certain remoteness, corresponding to the idea of physical distance, in virtue of which confusion and distortion of impression disappear, and one is enabled not only to distinguish the decisive outlines of a period, but also to relegate to their true place in the scheme subordinate details which, at the moment of occurrence, had made an exaggerated impression from their very nearness. It is yet too soon to look for such fulness and justness of treatment in respect to the late hostilities with Spain. Mere literal truth of narrative cannot yet be attained, even in the always limited degree to which historical truth is gradually elicited from a mass of partial and often irreconcilable testimony; and literal truth, when presented, needs to be accompanied by a discriminating analysis and estimate of the influence exerted upon the general result by individual occurrences, positive or negative. I say positive or negative, for we are too apt to overlook the vast importance of negative factors, of inaction as compared to action, of things not done in comparison with those that were done, of mistakes of omission as contrasted with those of commission. Too frequently men, spectators or actors in careers essentially of action, imagine that a safe course is being held because things continue seemingly as they were; whereas, at least in war, failure to dare greatly is often to run the greatest of risks. "Admiral Hotham," wrote Nelson in 1795, "is perfectly satisfied that each month passes without any losses on our side." The result of this purely negative conduct, of this military sin of mere omission, was that Bonaparte's great Italian campaign of 1796 became possible, that the British Fleet was forced to quit the Mediterranean, and the map of Europe was changed. It is, of course, a commonplace that things never really remain as they were; that they are always getting better or worse, at least relatively. But while it is true that men must perforce be content to wait a while for the full and sure accounts, and for the summing up which shall pass a final judgment upon the importance of events and upon the reputations of the actors in them, it is also true that in the drive of life, and for the practical guidance of life, which, like time and tide, waits for no man, a rapid, and therefore rough, but still a working decision must be formed from the new experiences, and inferences must be drawn for our governance in the present and the near future, whose exigencies attend us. Absolutely correct conclusions, if ever attained in practical life, are reached by a series of approximations; and it will not do to postpone action until exhaustive certainty has been gained. We have tried it at least once in the navy, watching for a finality of results in the experimental progress of European services. What the condition of our own fleet was at the end of those years might be fresh in all our memories, if we had time to remember. Delayed action maybe eminently proper at one moment; at another it may mean the loss of opportunity. Nor is the process of rapid decision--essential in the field--wholly unsafe in council, if inference and conclusion are checked by reference to well-settled principles and fortified by knowledge of the experience of ages upon whose broad bases those principles rest. Pottering over mechanical details doubtless has its place, but it tends to foster a hesitancy of action which wastes time more valuable than the resultant gain. The preceding remarks indicate sufficiently the scope of these papers. It is not proposed to give a complete story of the operations, for which the material is not yet available. Neither will it be attempted to pronounce decisions absolutely final, for the time is not yet ripe. The effort will be rather to suggest general directions to thought, which may be useful to a reader as he follows the many narratives, official or personal, given to the public; to draw attention to facts and to analogies; to point out experiences, the lessons from which may be profitable in determining the character of the action that must speedily be taken to place the sea power of the Republic upon a proper material basis; and, finally, to bring the course of this war into relation with the teachings of previous history,--the experiences of the recent past to reinforce or to modify those of the remoter past; for under superficial diversity, due to differences of conditions, there often rests fundamental identity, the recognition of which equips the mind, quickens it, and strengthens it for grappling with the problems of the present and the future. The value of history to us is as a record of human experience; but experiences must be understood. The character and the direction of the first movements of the United States in this conflict with Spain were determined by the occasion, and by the professed object, of the hostilities. As frequently happens, the latter began before any formal declaration of war had been made; and, as the avowed purpose and cause of our action were not primarily redress for grievances of the United States against Spain, but to enforce the departure of the latter from Cuba, it followed logically that the island became the objective of our military movements, as its deliverance from oppression was the object of the war. Had a more general appreciation of the situation been adopted, a view embracing the undeniable injury to the United States, from the then existing conditions, and the generally iniquitous character of Spanish rule in the colonies, and had war for these reasons been declared, the objective of our operations might have been differently chosen for strategic reasons; for our leading object in such case would not have been to help Cuba, but to constrain Spain, and to compel her to such terms as we might demand. It would have been open, for instance, to urge that Puerto Rico, being between five and six hundred miles from the eastern end of Cuba and nearly double that distance from the two ports of the island most important to Spain,--Havana on the north and Cienfuegos on the south,--would be invaluable to the mother country as an intermediate naval station and as a base of supplies and reinforcements for both her fleet and army; that, if left in her undisturbed possession, it would enable her, practically, to enjoy the same advantage of nearness to the great scene of operations that the United States had in virtue of our geographical situation; and that, therefore, the first objective of the war should be the eastern island, and its reduction the first object. The effect of this would have been to throw Spain back upon her home territory for the support of any operations in Cuba, thus entailing upon her an extremely long line of communications, exposed everywhere throughout its course, but especially to the molestation of small cruisers issuing from the harbors of Puerto Rico, which flank the routes, and which, upon the supposition, would have passed into our hands. This view of the matter was urged upon the writer, a few days before hostilities began, by a very old and intelligent naval officer who had served in our own navy and in that of the Confederate States. To a European nation the argument must have been quite decisive; for to it, as distant, or more distant than Spain from Cuba, such an intermediate station would have been an almost insurmountable obstacle while in an enemy's hands, and an equally valuable base if wrested from him. To the United States these considerations were applicable only in part; for, while the inconvenience to Spain would be the same, the gain to us would be but little, as our lines of communication to Cuba neither required the support of Puerto Rico, nor were by it particularly endangered. This estimate of the military importance of Puerto Rico should never be lost sight of by us as long as we have any responsibility, direct or indirect, for the safety or independence of Cuba. Puerto Rico, considered militarily, is to Cuba, to the future Isthmian canal, and to our Pacific coast, what Malta is, or may be, to Egypt and the beyond; and there is for us the like necessity to hold and strengthen the one, in its entirety and in its immediate surroundings, that there is for Great Britain to hold the other for the security of her position in Egypt, for her use of the Suez Canal, and for the control of the route to India. It would be extremely difficult for a European state to sustain operations in the eastern Mediterranean with a British fleet at Malta. Similarly, it would be very difficult for a transatlantic state to maintain operations in the western Caribbean with a United States fleet based upon Puerto Rico and the adjacent islands. The same reasons prompted Bonaparte to seize Malta in his expedition against Egypt and India in 1798. In his masterly eyes, as in those of Nelson, it was essential to the communications between France, Egypt, and India. His scheme failed, not because Malta was less than invaluable, but for want of adequate naval strength, without which no maritime position possesses value. There were, therefore, in America two possible objectives for the United States, in case of a war against Spain waged upon grounds at all general in their nature; but to proceed against either was purely a question of relative naval strength. Unless, and until, the United States fleet available for service in the Caribbean Sea was strong enough to control permanently the waters which separated the Spanish islands from our territory nearest to them, the admitted vast superiority of this country in potential resources for land warfare was completely neutralized. If the Spanish Navy preponderated over ours, it would be evidently impossible for transports carrying troops and supplies to traverse the seas safely; and, unless they could so do, operations of war in the enemy's colonies could neither be begun nor continued. If, again, the two fleets were so equally balanced as to make the question of ultimate preponderance doubtful, it was clearly foolish to land in the islands men whom we might be compelled, by an unlucky sea-fight, to abandon there. This last condition was that which obtained, as war became imminent. The force of the Spanish Navy--on paper, as the expression goes--was so nearly equal to our own that it was well within the limits of possibility that an unlucky incident--the loss, for example, of a battleship--might make the Spaniard decisively superior in nominal, or even in actual, available force. An excellent authority told the writer that he considered that the loss of the _Maine_ had changed the balance--that is, that whereas with the _Maine_ our fleet had been slightly superior, so after her destruction the advantage, still nominal, was rather the other way. We had, of course, a well-founded confidence in the superior efficiency of our officers and men, and in the probable better condition of our ships and guns; but where so much is at stake as the result of a war, or even as the unnecessary prolongation of war, with its sufferings and anxieties, the only safe rule is to regard the apparent as the actual, until its reality has been tested. However good their information, nations, like fencers, must try their adversary's force before they take liberties. Reconnaissance must precede decisive action. There was, on the part of the Navy Department, no indisposition to take risks, provided success, if obtained, would give an adequate gain. It was clearly recognized that war cannot be made without running risks; but it was also held, unwaveringly, that no merely possible success justified risk, unless it gave a fair promise of diminishing the enemy's naval force, and so of deciding the control of the sea, upon which the issue of the war depended. This single idea, and concentration of purpose upon it, underlay and dictated every step of the Navy Department from first to last,--so far, at least, as the writer knows,--and it must be borne in mind by any reader who wishes to pass intelligent judgment upon the action or non-action of the Department in particular instances. It was this consideration that brought the _Oregon_ from the Pacific to the Atlantic,--a movement initiated before hostilities opened, though not concluded until after they began. The wisdom of the step was justified not merely, nor chiefly, by the fine part played by that ship on July 3, but by the touch of certainty her presence imparted to the grip of our fleet upon Cervera's squadron during the preceding month, and the consequent power to move the army without fear by sea to Santiago. Few realize the doubts, uncertainties, and difficulties of the sustained watchfulness which attends such operations as the "bottling" of the Spanish fleet by Admiral Sampson; for "bottling" a hostile fleet does not resemble the chance and careless shoving of a cork into a half-used bottle,--it is rather like the wiring down of champagne by bonds that cannot be broken and through which nothing can ooze. This it is which constitutes the claim of the American Commander-in-Chief upon the gratitude of his countrymen; for to his skill and tenacity in conducting that operation is primarily due the early ending of the war, the opportunity to remove our stricken soldiery from a sickly climate, the ending of suspense, and the saving of many lives. "The moment Admiral Cervera's fleet was destroyed," truly said the London "Times" (August 16), "the war was practically at an end, unless Spain had elected to fight on to save the point of honor;" for she could have saved nothing else by continued war. To such successful operation, however, there is needed not only ships individually powerful, but numbers of such ships; and that the numbers of Sampson's fleet were maintained--not drawn off to other, though important, operations--even under such sore temptation as the dash of Cámara's fleet from Cadiz towards the Philippines, was due to the Department's ability to hold fast the primary conception of concentration upon a single purpose, even though running thereby such a risk as was feared from Cámara's armored ships reaching Dewey's unarmored cruisers before they were reinforced. The chances of the race to Manila, between Cámara, when he started from Cadiz, and the two monitors from San Francisco, were deliberately taken, in order to ensure the retention of Cervera's squadron in Santiago, or its destruction in case of attempted escape. Not till that was sufficiently provided for would Watson's division be allowed to depart. Such exclusive tenacity of purpose, under suspense, is more difficult of maintenance than can be readily recognized by those who have not undergone it. To avoid misconception, it should be added here that our division at the Philippines was not itself endangered, although it was quite possible that Manila Bay might have to be temporarily abandoned if Cámara kept on. The movements of the monitors were well in hand, and their junction assured, even under the control of a commander of less conspicuous ability than that already shown by Admiral Dewey. The return of the united force would speedily have ensured Cámara's destruction and the restoration of previous conditions. It is evident, however, that a certain amount of national mortification, and possibly of political complication, might have occurred in the interim. The necessity and the difficulty of thus watching the squadrons of an enemy within his ports--of "blockading" them, to use a common expression, of "containing" them, to conform to a strictly accurate military terminology--are more familiar to the British naval mind than to ours; for, both by long historical experience and by present-day needs, the vital importance of so narrowly observing the enemy's movements has been forced upon its consciousness. A committee of very distinguished British admirals a few years since reported that, having in view the difficulty of the operation in itself, and the chances of the force detailed falling below its _minimum_ by accidents, or by absence for coal or refits, British naval supremacy, vital to the Empire, demanded the number of five British battleships to three of the fleet thus to be controlled. Admiral Sampson's armored ships numbered seven to Cervera's four, a proportion not dissimilar; but those seven were all the armored ships, save monitors, worthless for such purpose, that the United States owned, or would own for some months yet to come. It should be instructive and convincing to the American people to note that when two powerful armored ships of the enemy were thus on their way to attack at one end of the world an admiral and a division that had deserved so well of their country, our whole battle-fleet, properly so called, was employed to maintain off Santiago the proportions which foreign officers, writing long before the conditions arose, had fixed as necessary. Yet the state with which we were at war ranks very low among naval Powers. The circumstance possesses a furthermost practical present interest, from its bearing upon the question between numbers and individual size in the organization of the naval line of battle; for the ever importunate demand for increase in dimensions in the single ship is already upon the United States Navy, and to it no logical, no simply rational, limit has yet been set This question may be stated as follows: A country can, or will, pay only so much for its war fleet. That amount of money means so much aggregate tonnage. How shall that tonnage be allotted? And, especially, how shall the total tonnage invested in armored ships be divided? Will you have a few very big ships, or more numerous medium ships? Where will you strike your mean between numbers and individual size? You cannot have both, unless your purse is unlimited. The Santiago incident, alike in the battle, in the preceding blockade, and in the concurrent necessity of sending battleships to Dewey, illustrates various phases of the argument in favor of numbers as against extremes of individual size. Heavier ships were not needed; fewer ships might have allowed some enemy to escape; when Cervera came out, the _Massachusetts_ was coaling at Guantanamo, and the _New York_ necessarily several miles distant, circumstances which, had the ships been bigger and fewer, would have taken much more, proportionately, from the entire squadron at a critical moment. Above all, had that aggregate, 65,934 of tonnage, in seven ships, been divided among five only, of 13,000 each, I know not how the two ships that were designated to go with Watson to the Philippines could possibly have sailed. The question is momentous, and claims intelligent and immediate decision; for tonnage once locked up in a built ship cannot be got out and redistributed to meet the call of the moment. Neither may men evade a definite conclusion by saying that they will have both unlimited power--that is, size--and unlimited number; for this they cannot have. A decision must be reached, and upon it purpose must be concentrated unwaveringly; the disadvantages as well as the advantages of the choice must be accepted with singleness of mind. Individual size is needed, for specific reasons; numbers also are necessary. Between the two opposing demands there is doubtless a mean of individual size which will ensure the maximum offensive power _of the fleet_; for that, and not the maximum power of the single ship, is the true object of battleship construction. Battleships in all ages are meant to act together, in fleets; not singly, as mere cruisers. A full discussion of all the considerations, on one side or the other, of this question, would demand more space, and more of technical detail, than the scope of these papers permits. As with most conclusions of a concrete character dealing with contradictory elements, the result reached will inevitably be rather an approximation than an absolute demonstrable certainty; a broad general statement, not a narrow formula. All rules of War, which is not an exact science, but an art, have this characteristic. They do not tell one exactly how to do right, but they give warning when a step is being contemplated which the experience of ages asserts to be wrong. To an instructed mind they cry silently, "Despite all plausible arguments, this one element involved in that which you are thinking to do shows that in it you will go wrong." In the judgment of the writer, two conditions must be primarily considered in determining a class of battleship to which, for the sake of homogeneousness, most of the fleet should conform. Of these two, one must be given in general terms; the other can be stated with more precision. The chief requisite to be kept in view in the battleship is the offensive power of the fleet of which it is a member. The aggregate gun-power of the fleet remaining the same, the increase of its numbers, by limiting the size of the individual ships, tends, up to a certain point, to increase its offensive power; for war depends largely upon combination, and facility of combination increases with numbers. Numbers, therefore, mean increase of offensive power, other things remaining equal. I do not quote in defence of this position Nelson's saying, that "numbers only can annihilate," because in his day experience had determined a certain mean size of working battleship, and he probably meant merely that preponderant numbers of that type were necessary; but weight may justly be laid upon the fact that our forerunners had, under the test of experience, accepted a certain working mean, and had rejected those above and below that mean, save for exceptional uses. The second requisite to be fulfilled in the battleship is known technically as coal endurance,--ability to steam a certain distance without recoaling, allowing in the calculation a reasonable margin of safety, as in all designs. This standard distance should be the greatest that separates two coaling places, as they exist in the scheme of fortified coaling ports which every naval nation should frame for itself. In our own case, such distance is that from Honolulu to Guam, in the Ladrones,--3,500 miles. The excellent results obtained from our vessels already in commission, embodying as they do the tentative experiences of other countries, as well as the reflective powers of our own designers, make it antecedently probable that 10,000 and 12,000 tons represent the extremes of normal displacement advantageous for the United States battleship. When this limit is exceeded, observation of foreign navies goes to show that the numbers of the fleet will be diminished and its aggregate gun-power not increased,--that is, ships of 15,000 tons actually have little more gun-power than those of 10,000. Both results are deviations from the ideal of the battle-fleet already given. In the United States Navy the tendency to huge ships needs to be particularly watched, for we have a tradition in their favor, inherited from the successes of our heavy frigates in the early years of this century. It must be recalled, therefore, that those ships were meant to act singly, but that long experience has shown that for fleet operations a mean of size gives greater aggregate efficiency, both in force and in precision of manoeuvre. In the battleship great speed also is distinctly secondary to offensive power and to coal endurance. To return from a long digression. Either Cuba or Puerto Rico might, in an ordinary case of war, have been selected as the first objective of the United States operations, with very good reasons for either choice. What the British island Santa Lucia is to Jamaica, what Martinique would be to France, engaged in important hostilities in the Caribbean, that, in measure, Puerto Rico is to Cuba, and was to Spain. To this was due the general and justifiable professional expectation that Cervera's squadron would first make for that point, although the anchorage at San Juan, the principal port, leaves very much to be desired in the point of military security for a fleet,--a fact that will call for close and intelligent attention on the part of the professional advisers of the Navy Department. But, while either of the Spanish islands was thus eligible, it would have been quite out of the question to attempt both at the same time, our navy being only equal to the nominal force of Spain; nor, it should be added, could a decided superiority over the latter have justified operations against both, unless our numbers had sufficed to overbear the whole of the hostile war fleet at both points. To have the greater force and then to divide it, so that the enemy can attack either or both fractions with decisively superior numbers, is the acme of military stupidity; nor is it the less stupid because in practice it has been frequently done. In it has often consisted the vaunted operation of "surrounding an enemy," "bringing him between two fires," and so forth; pompous and troublesome combinations by which a divided force, that could perfectly well move as a whole, starts from two or three widely separated points to converge upon a concentrated enemy, permitting him meanwhile the opportunity, if alert enough, to strike the divisions in detail. Having this obvious consideration in mind, it is curious now to recall that in the "North American Review," so lately as February, 1897, appeared an article entitled, "Can the United States afford to fight Spain?" by "A Foreign Naval Officer,"--evidently, from internal indications, a Spaniard,--in which occurred this brilliant statement: "For the purposes of an attack upon Spain in the West Indies, the American fleet would necessarily divide itself into two squadrons, one ostensibly destined for Puerto Rico, the other for Cuba.... Spain, before attempting to inflict serious damage upon places on the American coast, would certainly try to cut off the connection between the two American squadrons operating in the West Indies, and to attack each separately." The remark illustrates the fool's paradise in which many Spaniards, even naval officers, were living before the war, as is evidenced by articles in their own professional periodicals. To attribute such folly to us was not complimentary; and I own my remarks, upon first reading it, were not complimentary to the writer's professional competency. All reasons, therefore, combined to direct the first movement of the United States upon Cuba, and upon Cuba alone, leaving Spain in undisputed possession of such advantages as Puerto Rico might give. But Cuba and Puerto Rico, points for attack, were not, unluckily, the only two considerations forced upon the attention of the United States. We have a very long coast-line, and it was notorious that the defences were not so far advanced, judged by modern standards, as to inspire perfect confidence, either in professional men or in the inhabitants. By some of the latter, indeed, were displayed evidences of panic unworthy of men, unmeasured, irreflective, and therefore irrational; due largely, it is to be feared, to that false gospel of peace which preaches it for the physical comfort and ease of mind attendant, and in its argument against war strives to smother righteous indignation or noble ideals by appealing to the fear of loss,--casting the pearls of peace before the swine of self-interest. But a popular outcry, whether well or ill founded, cannot be wholly disregarded by a representative Government; and, outside of the dangers to the coast,--which, in the case of the larger cities at least, were probably exaggerated,--there was certainly an opportunity for an enterprising enemy to embarrass seriously the great coasting trade carried on under our own flag. There was much idle talk, in Spain and elsewhere, about the injury that could be done to United States commerce by scattered cruisers, commerce-destroyers. It was overlooked that our commerce under our own flag is inconsiderable: there were very few American ships abroad to be captured. But the coasting trade, being wholly under our own flag, was, and remains, an extremely vulnerable interest, one the protection of which will make heavy demands upon us in any maritime war. Nor can it be urged that that interest alone will suffer by its own interruption. The bulky cargoes carried by it cannot be transferred to the coastwise railroads without overtaxing the capacities of the latter; all of which means, ultimately, increase of cost and consequent suffering to the consumer, together with serious injury to all related industries dependent upon this traffic. Under these combined influences the United States Government found itself confronted from the beginning with two objects of military solicitude, widely divergent one from the other, both in geographical position and in method of action; namely, the attack upon Cuba and the protection of its own shores. As the defences did not inspire confidence, the navy had to supplement their weakness, although it is essentially an offensive, and not a defensive, organization. Upon this the enemy counted much at the first. "To defend the Atlantic coasts in case of war," wrote a Spanish lieutenant who had been Naval Attaché in Washington, "the United States will need one squadron to protect the port of New York and another for the Gulf of Mexico. But if the squadron which it now possesses is devoted to the defence of New York (including Long Island Sound), the coasts of the Gulf of Mexico must be entirely abandoned and left at the mercy of blockade and bombardment." Our total force for the order of battle, prior to the arrival of the _Oregon_, was nominally only equal to that of the enemy, and, when divided between the two objects named, the halves were not decisively superior to the single squadron under Cervera,--which also might be reinforced by some of the armored ships then in Spain. The situation, therefore, was one that is not infrequent, but always embarrassing,--a double purpose and a single force, which, although divisible, ought not to be divided. It is proper here to say, for the remark is both pertinent and most important, that coast defences and naval force are not interchangeable things; neither are they opponents, one of the other, but complementary. The one is stationary, the other mobile; and, however perfect in itself either may be, the other is necessary to its completeness. In different nations the relative consequence of the two may vary. In Great Britain, whose people are fed, and their raw materials obtained, from the outside world, the need for a fleet vastly exceeds that for coast defences. With us, able to live off ourselves, there is more approach to parity. Men may even differ as to which is the more important; but such difference, in this question, which is purely military, is not according to knowledge. In equal amounts, mobile offensive power is always, and under all conditions, more effective to the ends of war than stationary defensive power. Why, then, provide the latter? Because mobile force, whatever shape it take, ships or men, is limited narrowly as to the weight it can bear; whereas stationary force, generally, being tied to the earth, is restricted in the same direction only by the ability of the designer to cope with the conditions. Given a firm foundation, which practically can always be had, and there is no limit to the amount of armor,--mere defensive outfit,--be it wood, stone, bricks, or iron, that you can erect upon it; neither is there any limit to the weight of guns, the offensive element, that the earth can bear; only they will be motionless guns. The power of a steam navy to move is practically unfettered; its ability to carry weight, whether guns or armor, is comparatively very small. Fortifications, on the contrary, have almost unbounded power to bear weight, whereas their power to move is _nil_; which again amounts to saying that, being chained, they can put forth offensive power only at arm's length, as it were. Thus stated, it is seen that these two elements of sea warfare are in the strictest sense complementary, one possessing what the other has not; and that the difference is fundamental, essential, unchangeable,--not accidental or temporary. Given local conditions which are generally to be found, greater power, defensive and offensive, can be established in permanent works than can be brought to the spot by fleets. When, therefore, circumstances permit ships to be squarely pitted against fortifications,--not merely to pass swiftly by them,--it is only because the builders of the shore works have not, for some reason, possibly quite adequate, given them the power to repel attack which they might have had. It will not be asserted that there are no exceptions to this, as to most general rules; but as a broad statement it is almost universally true. "I took the liberty to observe," wrote Nelson at the siege of Calvi, when the commanding general suggested that some vessels might batter the forts, "that the business of laying wood against walls was much altered of late." Precisely what was in his mind when he said "of late" does not appear, but the phrase itself shows that the conditions which induced any momentary equality between ships and forts when brought within range were essentially transient. As seaports, and all entrances from the sea, are stationary, it follows naturally that the arrangements for their defence also should, as a rule, be permanent and stationary, for as such they are strongest. Indeed, unless stationary, they are apt not to be permanent, as was conclusively shown in the late hostilities, where all the new monitors, six in number, intended for coast defence, were diverted from that object and despatched to distant points; two going to Manila, and stripping the Pacific coast of protection, so far as based upon them. This is one of the essential vices of a system of coast defence dependent upon ships, even when constructed for that purpose; they are always liable to be withdrawn by an emergency, real or fancied. Upon the danger of such diversion to the local security, Nelson insisted, when charged with the guard of the Thames in 1801. The block ships (floating batteries), he directed, were on no account to be moved for any momentary advantage; for it might very well be impossible for them to regain their carefully chosen positions when wanted there. Our naval scheme in past years has been seriously damaged, and now suffers, from two misleading conceptions: one that a navy is for defence primarily, and not for offensive war; the other, consequent mainly upon the first, that the monitor, being stronger defensively than offensively, and of inferior mobility, was the best type of warship. The Civil War, being, so far as the sea was concerned, essentially a coast war, naturally fostered this opinion. The monitor in smooth water is better able to stand up to shore guns than ships are which present a larger target; but, for all that, it is more vulnerable, both above water and below, than shore guns are if these are properly distributed. It is a hybrid, neither able to bear the weight that fortifications do, nor having the mobility of ships; and it is, moreover, a poor gun-platform in a sea-way. There is no saying of Napoleon's known to the writer more pregnant of the whole art and practice of war than this, "Exclusiveness of purpose is the secret of great successes and of great operations." If, therefore, in maritime war, you wish permanent defences for your coasts, rely exclusively upon stationary works, if the conditions admit, not upon floating batteries which have the weaknesses of ships. If you wish offensive war carried on vigorously upon the seas, rely exclusively upon ships that have the qualities of ships and not of floating batteries. We had in the recent hostilities 26,000 tons of shipping sealed up in monitors, of comparatively recent construction, in the Atlantic and the Pacific. There was not an hour from first to last, I will venture to say, that we would not gladly have exchanged the whole six for two battleships of less aggregate displacement; and that although, from the weakness of the Spanish defences, we were able to hug pretty closely most parts of the Cuban coast. Had the Spanish guns at Santiago kept our fleet at a greater distance, we should have lamented still more bitterly the policy which gave us sluggish monitors for mobile battleships. II THE EFFECT OF DEFICIENT COAST-DEFENCE UPON THE MOVEMENTS OF THE NAVY.--THE MILITARY AND NAVAL CONDITIONS OF SPAIN AT THE OUTBREAK OF THE WAR. The unsatisfactory condition of the coast defences, whereby the navy lost the support of its complementary factor in the scheme of national sea power, imposed a vicious, though inevitable, change in the initial plan of campaign, which should have been directed in full force against the coast of Cuba. The four newer monitors on the Atlantic coast, if distributed among our principal ports, were not adequate, singly, to resist the attack which was suggested by the possibilities of the case--though remote--and still more by the panic among certain of our citizens. On the other hand, if the four were massed and centrally placed, which is the correct disposition of any mobile force, military or naval, intended to counteract the attack of an enemy whose particular line of approach is as yet uncertain, their sluggishness and defective nautical qualities would make them comparatively inefficient. New York, for instance, is a singularly central and suitable point, relatively to our northern Atlantic seaboard, in which to station a division intended to meet and thwart the plans of a squadron like Cervera's, if directed against our coast ports, in accordance with the fertile imaginations of evil which were the fashion in that hour. Did the enemy appear off either Boston, the Delaware, or the Chesapeake, he could not effect material injury before a division of ships of the _Oregon_ class would be upon him; and within the limits named are found the major external commercial interests of the country as well as the ocean approaches along which they travel. But had the monitors been substituted for battleships, not to speak of their greater slowness, their inferiority as steady gun-platforms would have placed them at a serious disadvantage if the enemy were met outside, as he perfectly well might be. It was probably such considerations as these, though the writer was not privy to them, that determined the division of the battle fleet, and the confiding to the section styled the Flying Squadron the defence of the Atlantic coast for the time being. The monitors were all sent to Key West, where they would be at hand to act against Havana; the narrowness of the field in which that city, Key West, and Matanzas are comprised making their slowness less of a drawback, while the moderate weather which might be expected to prevail would permit their shooting to be less inaccurate. The station of the Flying Squadron in Hampton Roads, though not so central as New York relatively to the more important commercial interests, upon which, if upon any, the Spanish attack might fall, was more central as regards the whole coast; and, above all, was nearer than New York to Havana and to Puerto Rico. The time element also entered the calculations in another way, for a fleet of heavy ships is more certainly able to put to sea at a moment's notice, in all conditions of tide and weather, from the Chesapeake than from New York Bay. In short, the position chosen may be taken to indicate that, in the opinion of the Navy Department and its advisers, Cervera was not likely to attempt a dash at an Atlantic port, and that it was more important to be able to reach the West Indies speedily than to protect New York or Boston,--a conclusion which the writer entirely shared. The country, however, should not fail to note that the division of the armored fleet into two sections, nearly a thousand miles apart, though probably the best that could be done under all the circumstances of the moment, was contrary to sound practice; and that the conditions which made it necessary should not have existed. Thus, deficient coast protection reacts unfavorably upon the war fleet, which in all its movements should be free from any responsibility for the mere safety of the ports it quits. Under such conditions as then obtained, it might have been possible for Spain to force our entire battle fleet from its offensive undertaking against Cuba, and to relegate it to mere coast defence. Had Cervera's squadron, instead of being despatched alone to the Antilles, been recalled to Spain, as it should have been, and there reinforced by the two armored ships which afterwards went to Suez with Cámara, the approach of this compact body would have compelled our fleet to concentrate; for each of our divisions of three ships--prior to the arrival of the _Oregon_--would have been too weak to hazard an engagement with the enemy's six. When thus concentrated, where should it be placed? Off Havana, or at Hampton Roads? It could not be at both. The answer undoubtedly should be, "Off Havana;" for there it would be guarding the most important part of the enemy's coast, blocking the access to it of the Spanish fleet, and at the same time covering Key West, our naval base of operations. But if the condition of our coast defences at all corresponded to the tremors of our seaport citizens, the Government manifestly would be unable to hold the fleet thus at the front. Had it, on the contrary, been impossible for an enemy's fleet to approach nearer than three miles to our sea-coast without great and evident danger of having ships damaged which could not be replaced, and of wasting ammunition at ranges too long even for bombardments, the Spanish battle fleet would have kept away, and would have pursued its proper object of supporting their campaign in Cuba by driving off our fleet--if it could. It is true that no amount of fortification will secure the coasting trade beyond easy gunshot of the works; but as the enemy's battle fleet could not have devoted itself for long to molesting the coasters--because our fleet would thereby be drawn to the spot--that duty must have devolved upon vessels of another class, against which we also would have provided, and did provide, by the squadron of cruisers under Commodore Howell. In short, proper coast defence, the true and necessary complement of an efficient navy, releases the latter for its proper work,--offensive, upon the open seas, or off the enemy's shores. [Illustration: Map of Cuba (map)] The subject receives further illumination when we consider, in addition to the hypothetical case just discussed,--the approach of six Spanish ships,--the actual conditions at the opening of the campaign. We had chosen Cuba for our objective, had begun our operations, Cervera was on his way across the ocean, and our battle fleet was divided and posted as stated. It was reasonable for us to estimate each division of our ships--one comprising the _New York_, _Iowa_, and _Indiana_, the other the _Brooklyn_, _Massachusetts_, and _Texas_--as able to meet Cervera's four, these being of a class slightly inferior to the best of ours. We might at least flatter ourselves that, to use a frequent phrase of Nelson's, by the time they had soundly beaten one of these groups, they would give us no more trouble for the rest of the year. We could, therefore, with perfect military propriety, have applied the two divisions to separate tasks on the Cuban coast, if our own coast had been adequately fortified. The advantage--nay, the necessity--of thus distributing our battleships, having only four enemies to fear, will appear from a glance at the map of Cuba. It will there be seen that the island is particularly narrow abreast of Havana, and that from there, for a couple of hundred miles to the eastward, extends the only tolerably developed railroad system, by which the capital is kept in communication with the seaports, on the north coast as far as Sagua la Grande, and on the south with Cienfuegos and Batabano. This narrowness, and the comparative facility of communication indicated by the railroads, enabled Spain, during her occupation, effectually to prevent combined movements between the insurgents in the east and those in the west; a power which Weyler endeavored to increase by the _trocha_ system,--a ditch or ditches, with closely supporting works, extending across the island. Individuals, or small parties, might slip by unperceived; but it should have been impossible for any serious co-operation to take place. The coast-wise railroads, again, kept Havana and the country adjacent to them in open, if limited, communication with the sea, so long as any one port upon their lines remained unblockaded. For reasons such as these, in this belt of land, from Havana to Sagua and Cienfuegos, lay the chief strength of the Spanish tenure, which centred upon Havana; and in it the greatest part of the Spanish army was massed. Until, therefore, we were ready to invade, which should not have been before the close of the rainy season, the one obvious course open to us was to isolate the capital and the army from the sea, through which supplies of all kinds--daily bread, almost, of food and ammunition--were introduced; for Cuba, in these respects, produces little. To perfect such isolation, however, it was necessary not only to place before each port armed cruisers able to stop merchant steamers, but also to give to the vessels so stationed, as well on the south as on the north side, a backbone of support by the presence of an armored fleet, which should both close the great ports--Havana and Cienfuegos--and afford a rallying-point to the smaller ships, if driven in by the appearance of Cervera's division. The main fleet--three armored ships--on the north was thus used, although the blockade, from the fewness of available cruisers, was not at first extended beyond Cardenas. On the south a similar body--the Flying Squadron--should from the first have been stationed before Cienfuegos; for each division, as has been said, could with military propriety have been risked singly against Cervera's four ships. This was not done, because it was possible--though most improbable--that the Spanish squadron might attempt one of our own ports; because we had not perfect confidence in the harbor defences; and because, also, of the popular outcry. Consequently, the extremely important port of Cienfuegos, a back door to Havana, was blockaded only by a few light cruisers; and when the Spanish squadron was reported at Curaçao, these had to be withdrawn. One only was left to maintain in form the blockade which had been declared; and she had instructions to clear out quickly if the enemy appeared. Neither one, nor a dozen, of such ships would have been the slightest impediment to Cervera's entering Cienfuegos, raising our blockade by force; and this, it is needless to add, would have been hailed in Spain and throughout the Continent of Europe as a distinct defeat for us,--which, in truth, it would have been, carrying with it consequences political as well as military. This naval mishap, had it occurred, would have been due mainly to inadequate armament of our coasts; for to retain the Flying Squadron in the Chesapeake, merely as a guard to the coasting trade, would have been a serious military error, subordinating an offensive operation--off Cienfuegos--to one merely defensive, and not absolutely vital. "The best protection against an enemy's fire," said Farragut, "is a well-directed fire from our own guns." Analogically, the best defence for one's own shores is to harass and threaten seriously those of the opponent; but this best defence cannot be employed to the utmost, if the inferior, passive defence of fortification has been neglected. The fencer who wears also a breastplate may be looser in his guard. Seaports cannot strike beyond the range of their guns; but if the great commercial ports and naval stations can strike effectively so far, the fleet can launch into the deep rejoicing, knowing that its home interests, behind the buckler of the fixed defences, are safe till it returns. The broader determining conditions, and the consequent dispositions made by the Government of the United States and its naval authorities, in the recent campaign, have now been stated and discussed. In them is particularly to be noted the crippling effect upon naval operations produced by the consciousness of inadequate coast defences of the permanent type. The sane conclusion to be drawn is, that while sea-coast fortification can never take the place of fleets; that while, as a defence even, it, being passive, is far inferior to the active measure of offensive defence, which protects its own interests by carrying offensive war out on to the sea, and, it may be, to the enemy's shores; nevertheless, by the fearless freedom of movement it permits to the navy, it is to the latter complementary,--completes it; the two words being etymologically equivalent. The other comments hitherto made upon our initial plan of operations--for example, the impropriety of attempting simultaneous movements against Puerto Rico and Cuba, and the advisability or necessity, under the same conditions, of moving against both Cienfuegos and Havana by the measure of a blockade--were simply special applications of general principles of warfare, universally true, to particular instances in this campaign. They address themselves, it may be said, chiefly to the soldier or seaman, as illustrating his especial business of directing war; and while their value to the civilian cannot be denied,--for whatever really enlightens public opinion in a country like ours facilitates military operations,--nevertheless the function of coast defence, as contributory to sea power, is a lesson most necessary to be absorbed by laymen; for it, as well as the maintenance of the fleet, is in this age the work of peace times, when the need of preparation for war is too little heeded to be understood. The illustrations of the embarrassment actually incurred from this deficiency in the late hostilities are of the nature of an object lesson, and as such should be pondered. At the same time, however, that attention is thus called to the inevitable and far-reaching effect of such antecedent neglects, shown in directions where men would not ordinarily have expected them, it is necessary to check exaggeration of coast defence, in extent or in degree, by remarking that in any true conception of war, fortification, defence, inland and sea-coast alike, is of value merely in so far as it conduces to offensive operations. This is conspicuously illustrated by our recent experience. The great evil of our deficiencies in coast armament was that they neutralized temporarily a large part of our navy; prevented our sending it to Cuba; made possible that Cervera's squadron, during quite an interval, might do this or that thing of several things thus left open to him, the result of which would have been to encourage the enemy, and possibly to produce political action by our ill-wishers abroad. Directly upon this consideration--of the use that the Flying Squadron might have been, if not held up for coast defence--follows the further reflection how much more useful still would have been a third squadron; that is, a navy half as large again as we then had. Expecting Cervera's force alone, a navy of such size, free from anxiety about coast defence, could have barred to him San Juan de Puerto Rico as well as Cienfuegos and Havana; or had Cámara been joined to Cervera, as he should have been, such a force would have closed both Cienfuegos and Havana with divisions that need not have feared the combined enemy. If, further, there had been a fourth squadron--our coast defence in each case remaining the same--our evident naval supremacy would probably have kept the Spanish fleet in Europe. Not unlikely there would have been no war; in which event, the anti-imperialist may observe there would, thanks to a great and prepared navy, have been no question of the Philippines, and possibly none of Hawaii. In short, it is with coast defence and the navy as it is with numbers _versus_ size in battleships. Both being necessary, the question of proportion demands close attention, but in both cases the same single principle dominates: offensive power, not defensive, determines the issues of war. In the solution of the problem, the extent to be given coast defence by fortification depends, as do all military decisions, whether of preparation or of actual warfare, upon certain well-recognized principles; and for a given country or coast, since the natural conditions remain permanent, the general dispositions, and the relative power of the several works, if determined by men of competent military knowledge, will remain practically constant during long periods. It is true, doubtless, that purely military conclusions must submit to some modification, in deference to the liability of a population to panics. The fact illustrates again the urgent necessity for the spread of sound elementary ideas on military subjects among the people at large; but, if the great coast cities are satisfied of their safety, a government will be able to resist the unreasonable clamor--for such it is--of small towns and villages, which are protected by their own insignificance. The navy is a more variable element; for the demands upon it depend upon external conditions of a political character, which may undergo changes not only sudden, but extensive. The results of the war with Spain, for instance, have affected but little the question of passive coast defence, by fortification or otherwise; but they have greatly altered the circumstances which hitherto have dictated the size of our active forces, both land and sea. Upon the greater or less strength of the navy depends, in a maritime conflict, the aggressive efficiency which shortens war, and so mitigates its evils. In the general question of preparation for naval war, therefore, the important centres and internal waterways of commerce must receive local protection, where they are exposed to attack from the sea; the rest must trust, and can in such case safely trust, to the fleet, upon which, as the offensive arm, all other expenditure for military maritime efficiency should be made. The preposterous and humiliating terrors of the past months, that a hostile fleet would waste coal and ammunition in shelling villages and bathers on a beach, we may hope will not recur. Before proceeding to study the operations of the war, the military and naval conditions of the enemy at its outbreak must be briefly considered. Spain, being a state that maintains at all times a regular army, respectable in numbers as well as in personal valor, had at the beginning, and, from the shortness of the war, continued to the end to have a decided land superiority over ourselves. Whatever we might hope eventually to produce in the way of an effective army, large enough for the work in Cuba, time was needed for the result, and time was not allowed. In one respect only the condition of the Peninsula seems to have resembled our own; that was in the inadequacy of the coast defences. The matter there was even more serious than with us, because not only were the preparations less, but several large sea-coast cities--for instance, Barcelona, Malaga, Cadiz--lie immediately upon the sea-shore; whereas most of ours are at the head of considerable estuaries, remote from the entrance. The exposure of important commercial centres to bombardment, therefore, was for them much greater. This consideration was indeed so evident, that there was in the United States Navy a perceptible current of feeling in favor of carrying maritime war to the coast of Spain, and to its commercial approaches. The objection to this, on the part of the Navy Department, was, with slight modifications, the same as to the undertaking of operations against Puerto Rico. There was not at our disposition, either in armored ships or in cruisers, any superfluity of force over and above the requirements of the projected blockade of Cuba. To divert ships from this object, therefore, would be false to the golden rule of concentration of effort,--to the single eye that gives light in warfare. Moreover, in such a movement, the reliance, as represented in the writer's hearing, would have been upon moral effect, upon the dismay of the enemy; for we should soon have come to the end of our physical coercion. As Nelson said of bombarding Copenhagen, "We should have done our worst, and no nearer friends." The influence of moral effect in war is indisputable, and often tremendous; but like some drugs in the pharmacopoeia, it is very uncertain in its action. The other party may not, as the boys say, "scare worth a cent;" whereas material forces can be closely measured beforehand, and their results reasonably predicted. This statement, generally true, is historically especially true of the Spaniard, attacked in his own land. The tenacity of the race has never come out so strongly as under such conditions, as was witnessed in the old War of the Spanish Succession, and during the usurpation of Napoleon. On the other hand, such an enterprise on our part, if directed against Spanish commerce on the seas, as was suggested by several excellent officers, would have had but a trivial objective. The commerce of Spain was cut up, root and branch, by our expeditions against her colonies, Cuba and Manila; for her most important trade depended upon monopoly of the colonial markets. The slight stream of traffic maintained in Spanish bottoms between the English Channel and the Peninsula, was so small that it could readily have been transferred to neutral ships, whose flag we had for this war engaged should protect enemy's goods. Under these circumstances, the coasts of the Philippines and of Cuba were to us the coast of Spain, and far more conveniently so than that of the home country would have been. A Spanish merchant captain, writing from Barcelona as early as the 7th of May, had said: "At this moment we have shut up in this port the [steam] fleets of five transatlantic companies," which he names. "The sailing-vessels are tied up permanently. Several [named] ships have fallen into the hands of the enemy. Meantime the blockade of Cuba, Puerto Rico, and Manila continues, at least for our flag, and maritime commerce is at a standstill. In Barcelona some foreign firms, exporters to the Philippines, have failed, as well as several custom-house brokers, owing to the total cessation of mercantile movement. The losses already suffered by our trade are incalculable, amounting to much more than the millions needed to maintain a half-dozen armored ships, which would have prevented the Yankees from daring so much." These vessels continued to lie idle in Barcelona until the dread of Commodore Watson's threatened approach caused them to be sent to Marseilles, seeking the protection of the neutral port. A few weeks later the same Spanish writer comments: "The result of our mistakes," in the management of the navy, "is the loss of the markets of Cuba, Puerto Rico, and the Philippines, and, in consequence, the death of our merchant marine." Inquiries were addressed by the state to the Chambers of Commerce, for suggestions as to the opening of new markets, to compensate for the existing suspension of communications with "the over-sea provinces." With such results from our operations in the Antilles and the Philippines, there was no inducement, and indeed no justification, for sending cruisers across the ocean, until we had enough and to spare for the blockade of Cuba and Puerto Rico. This was at no time the case, up to the close of the war, owing to a combination of causes. The work of paralyzing Spanish trade was being effectually done by the same measures that tended to strangle the Spanish armies in Cuba and the Philippines, and which, when fully developed, would entirely sever their necessary communications with the outside world. Besides all this, the concentration of our efforts upon Cuba, with a subsequent slight extension to the single port of San Juan in Puerto Rico, imposed upon Spain the burden of sustaining the war between three and four thousand miles from home, and spared us the like additional strain. Every consideration so far entertained, therefore, of energy as well as of prudence, dictated the application of all the pressure at our disposal at the beginning of hostilities, and until the destruction of Cervera's squadron, upon Cuba, and in a very minor degree upon Puerto Rico. Indeed, the ships placed before San Juan were not for blockade, properly so called, but to check any mischievous display of energy by the torpedo cruiser within. After thus noting briefly the conditions of the enemy's coast defences and commerce, there remains to consider the one other element of his sea power--the combatant navy--with regard to its force and to its disposition when war began. As was before said, the disparity between the armored fleets of the two nations was nominally inconsiderable; and the Spaniards possessed one extremely valuable--and by us unrivalled--advantage in a nearly homogeneous group of five[1] armored cruisers, very fast, and very similar both in nautical qualities and in armament. It is difficult to estimate too highly the possibilities open to such a body of ships, regarded as a "fleet in being," to use an expression that many of our readers may have seen, but perhaps scarcely fully understood. The phrase "fleet in being," having within recent years gained much currency in naval writing, demands--like the word "jingo"--preciseness of definition; and this, in general acceptance, it has not yet attained. It remains, therefore, somewhat vague, and so occasions misunderstandings between men whose opinions perhaps do not materially differ. The writer will not attempt to define, but a brief explanation of the term and its origin may not be amiss. It was first used, in 1690, by the British admiral Lord Torrington, when defending his course in declining to engage decisively, with an inferior force, a French fleet, then dominating in the Channel, and under cover of which it was expected that a descent upon the English coast would be made by a great French army. "Had I fought otherwise," he said, "our fleet had been totally lost, and the kingdom had lain open to invasion. As it was, most men were in fear that the French would invade; but I was always of another opinion, for I always said that whilst we had a fleet in being, they would not dare to make an attempt." A "fleet in being," therefore, is one the existence and maintenance of which, although inferior, on or near the scene of operations, is a perpetual menace to the various more or less exposed interests of the enemy, who cannot tell when a blow may fall, and who is therefore compelled to restrict his operations, otherwise possible, until that fleet can be destroyed or neutralized. It corresponds very closely to "a position on the flank and rear" of an enemy, where the presence of a smaller force, as every military student knows, harasses, and may even paralyze offensive movements. When such a force is extremely mobile, as a fleet of armored cruisers may be, its power of mischief is very great; potentially, it is forever on the flank and rear, threatening the lines of communications. It is indeed as a threat to communications that the "fleet in being" is chiefly formidable. The theory received concrete and convincing illustration during the recent hostilities, from the effect exerted--and justly exerted--upon our plans and movements by Cervera's squadron, until there had been assembled before Santiago a force at once so strong and so numerous as to make his escape very improbable. Even so, when a telegram was received from a capable officer that he had identified by night, off the north coast of Cuba, an armored cruiser,--which, if of that class, was most probably an enemy,--the sailing of Shafter's expedition was stopped until the report could be verified. So much for the positive, material influence--in the judgment of the writer, the reasonable influence--of a "fleet in being." As regards the moral effect, the effect upon the imagination, it is scarcely necessary more than to allude to the extraordinary play of the fancy, the kaleidoscopic effects elicited from our own people, and from some foreign critics, in propounding dangers for ourselves and ubiquity for Cervera. Against the infection of such tremors it is one of the tasks of those in responsibility to guard themselves and, if possible, their people. "Don't make pictures for yourself," was Napoleon's warning to his generals. "Every naval operation since I became head of the government has failed, because my admirals see double and have learned--where I don't know--that war can be made without running risks." The probable value of a "fleet in being" has, in the opinion of the writer, been much overstated; for, even at the best, the game of evasion, which this is, if persisted in, can have but one issue. The superior force will in the end run the inferior to earth. In the meanwhile, however, vital time may have been lost. It is conceivable, for instance, that Cervera's squadron, if thoroughly effective, might, by swift and well-concealed movements, have detained our fleet in the West Indies until the hurricane of September, 1898, swept over the Caribbean. We had then no reserve to replace armored ships lost or damaged. But, for such persistence of action, there is needed in each unit of the "fleet in being" an efficiency rarely attainable, and liable to be lost by unforeseen accident at a critical moment. Where effect, nay, safety, depends upon mere celerity of movement, as in retreat, a crippled ship means a lost ship; or a lost fleet, if the body sticks to its disabled member. Such efficiency it is probable Cervera's division never possessed. The length of its passage across the Atlantic, however increased by the embarrassment of frequently recoaling the torpedo destroyers, so far over-passed the extreme calculations of our naval authorities, that ready credence was given to an apparently authentic report that it had returned to Spain; the more so that such concentration was strategically correct, and it was incorrect to adventure an important detachment so far from home, without the reinforcement it might have received in Cadiz. This delay, in ships whose individual speed had originally been very high, has been commonly attributed in our service to the inefficiency of the engine-room force; and this opinion is confirmed by a Spanish officer writing in their "Revista de la Marina." "The Americans," he says, "keep their ships cruising constantly, in every sea, and therefore have a large and qualified engine-room force. We have but few machinists, and are almost destitute of firemen." This inequality, however, is fundamentally due to the essential differences of mechanical capacity and development in the two nations. An amusing story was told the writer some years ago by one of our consuls in Cuba. Making a rather rough passage between two ports, he saw an elderly Cuban or Spanish gentleman peering frequently into the engine-room, with evident uneasiness. When asked the cause of his concern, the reply was, "I don't feel comfortable unless the man in charge of the engines talks English to them." When to the need of constant and sustained ability to move at high speed is added the necessity of frequent recoaling, allowing the hostile navy time to come up, it is evident that the active use of a "fleet in being," however perplexing to the enemy, must be both anxious and precarious to its own commander. The contest is one of strategic wits, and it is quite possible that the stronger, though slower, force, centrally placed, may, in these days of cables, be able to receive word and to corner its antagonist before the latter can fill his bunkers. Of this fact we should probably have received a very convincing illustration, had a satisfactory condition of our coast defences permitted the Flying Squadron to be off Cienfuegos, or even off Havana, instead of in Hampton Roads. Cervera's entrance to Santiago was known to us within twenty-four hours. In twenty-four more it could have been communicated off Cienfuegos by a fast despatch boat, after which less than forty-eight would have placed our division before Santiago. The uncertainty felt by Commodore Schley, when he arrived off Cienfuegos, as to whether the Spanish division was inside or no, would not have existed had his squadron been previously blockading; and his consequent delay of over forty-eight hours--with the rare chance thus offered to Cervera--would not have occurred. To coal four great ships within that time was probably beyond the resources of Santiago; whereas the speed predicated for our own movements is rather below than above the dispositions contemplated to ensure it. The great end of a war fleet, however, is not to chase, nor to fly, but to control the seas. Had Cervera escaped our pursuit at Santiago, it would have been only to be again paralyzed at Cienfuegos or at Havana. When speed, not force, is the reliance, destruction may be postponed, but can be escaped only by remaining in port. Let it not, therefore, be inferred, from the possible, though temporary, effect of a "fleet in being," that speed is the chief of all factors in the battleship. This plausible, superficial notion, too easily accepted in these days of hurry and of unreflecting dependence upon machinery as the all in all, threatens much harm to the future efficiency of the navy. Not speed, but power of offensive action, is the dominant factor in war. The decisive preponderant element of great land forces has ever been the infantry, which, it is needless to say, is also the slowest. The homely summary of the art of war, "To get there first with the most men," has with strange perverseness been so distorted in naval--and still more in popular--conception, that the second and more important consideration has been subordinated to the former and less essential. Force does not exist for mobility, but mobility for force. It is of no use to get there first unless, when the enemy in turn arrives, you have also the most men,--the greater force. This is especially true of the sea, because there inferiority of force--of gun power--cannot be compensated, as on land it at times may be, by judiciously using accidents of the ground. I do not propose to fall into an absurdity of my own by questioning the usefulness of higher speed, _provided_ the increase is not purchased at the expense of strictly offensive power; but the time has come to say plainly that its value is being exaggerated; that it is in the battleship secondary to gun power; that a battle fleet can never attain, nor maintain, the highest rate of any ship in it, except of that one which at the moment is the slowest, for it is a commonplace of naval action that fleet speed is that of the slowest ship; that not exaggerated speed, but uniform speed--sustained speed--is the requisite of the battle fleet; that it is not machinery, as is often affirmed, but brains and guns, that win battles and control the sea. The true speed of war is not headlong precipitancy, but the unremitting energy which wastes no time. For the reasons that have been given, the safest, though not the most effective, disposition of an inferior "fleet in being" is to lock it up in an impregnable port or ports, imposing upon the enemy the intense and continuous strain of watchfulness against escape. This it was that Torrington, the author of the phrase, proposed for the time to do. Thus it was that Napoleon, to some extent before Trafalgar, but afterward with set and exclusive purpose, used the French Navy, which he was continually augmenting, and yet never, to the end of his reign, permitted again to undertake any serious expedition. The mere maintenance of several formidable detachments, in apparent readiness, from the Scheldt round to Toulon, presented to the British so many possibilities of mischief that they were compelled to keep constantly before each of the French ports a force superior to that within, entailing an expense and an anxiety by which the Emperor hoped to exhaust their endurance. To some extent this was Cervera's position and function in Santiago, whence followed logically the advisability of a land attack upon the port, to force to a decisive issue a situation which was endurable only if incurable. "The destruction of Cervera's squadron," justly commented an Italian writer, before the result was known, "is the only really decisive fact that can result from the expedition to Santiago, because it will reduce to impotence the naval power of Spain. The determination of the conflict will depend throughout upon the destruction of the Spanish sea power, and not upon territorial descents, although the latter may aggravate the situation." The American admiral from before Santiago, when urging the expedition of a land force to make the bay untenable, telegraphed, "The destruction of this squadron will end the war;" and it did. In other respects it is probable that the Spanish admiral had little confidence in a squadron which, whatever the courage or other qualities of the officers and seamen, had never manoeuvred together until it left the Cape de Verde Islands. Since its destruction, a writer in a Spanish naval magazine has told the following incident: "A little more than a year ago we visited General Cervera in La Carraca, [the Cadiz arsenal], and we said to him: 'You appear to be indicated, by professional opinion, for the command of the squadron in case war is declared.' 'In that case,' he replied, 'I shall accept, knowing, however, that I am going to a Trafalgar.' 'And how could that disaster be avoided?' 'By allowing me to expend beforehand fifty thousand tons of coal in evolutions and ten thousand projectiles in target practice. Otherwise we shall go to a Trafalgar. Remember what I say.'" It is curious to contrast with this well-founded fear of an experienced and gallant officer, expressed in private conversation, the opinion of another Spanish officer, lately Minister of Marine, reported to the Madrid public through a newspaper,--the "Heraldo," of April 6, 1898. It illustrates, further, the curious illusions entertained in high quarters in Spain: "We had an opportunity to-day of talking for a long time with General Beranger, the last Secretary of the Navy under the Conservative Cabinet. To the questions which we directed to him concerning the conflict pending with the United States, he was kind enough to inform us that he confided absolutely in the triumph of our naval forces.... 'We shall conquer on the sea, and I am now going to give you my reasons. The first of these is the remarkable discipline that prevails on our warships; and the second, as soon as fire is opened, the crews of the American ships will commence to desert, since we all know that among them are people of all nationalities. Ship against ship, therefore, a failure is not to be feared. I believe that the squadron detained at Cape de Verde, and particularly the destroyers, should have, and could have, continued the voyage to Cuba, since they have nothing to fear from the American fleet.'" The review from which Cervera's opinion is quoted has, since the disasters to the Spanish Navy, been full of complaints and of detailed statements concerning the neglect of the navy, both in its material and in drills, during the antecedent months of peace, owing to the practice of a misplaced, if necessary, economy. But that economy, it is justly argued, would not have been required to a disabling degree, if so disproportionate an amount of money had not been expended upon the army, by a state whose great colonial system could in war be sustained only by a fleet. "In more than a year," writes a captain in the Spanish Navy, "we have had only one target practice, and that limited in extent, in order to expend the least possible amount of ammunition." The short brilliant moments of triumph in war are the sign and the seal of the long hours of obscure preparations, of which target practice is but one item. Had even the nominal force of Spain been kept in efficient condition for immediate action, the task of the United States would have been greatly prolonged and far from so easy as it has been since declared by those among our people who delight to belittle the great work our country has just achieved, and to undervalue the magnanimity of its resolution to put a stop to outrages at our doors which were well said to have become intolerable. Neither by land nor by sea was the state of the case so judged by professional men, either at home or abroad. It was indeed evident that, if we persevered, there could be but one issue; but this might have been postponed, by an active opponent, long enough to have disheartened our nation, if it was as easily to be discouraged by the difficulties and dangers, now past, as it is in some quarters represented again to be by the problems arising out of the war and its conquests. Such discouragement, perplexity, and consequent frustration of the adversary's purposes are indeed the prime function of a "fleet in being,"--to create and to maintain moral effect, in short, rather than physical, unless indeed the enemy, yielding to moral effect, divides his forces in such wise as to give a chance for a blow at one portion of them. The tendency to this also received illustration in our war. "Our sea-coast," said a person then in authority to the present writer, "was in a condition of unreasoning panic, and fought to have little squadrons scattered along it everywhere, according to the theory of defence always favored by stupid terror." The "stupidity," by all military experience, was absolute--unqualified; but the Navy Department succeeded in withstanding the "terror"--the moral effect--so far as to compromise on the Flying Squadron; a rational solution, though not unimpeachable. We thus, instead of a half-dozen naval groups, had only two, the combination of which might perhaps be effected in time enough. FOOTNOTES: [1] In this number is included the _Emperador Carlos V._; which, however, did not accompany the other four under Cervera. III POSSIBILITIES OPEN TO THE SPANISH NAVY AT THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR.--THE REASONS FOR BLOCKADING CUBA.--FIRST MOVEMENTS OF THE SQUADRONS UNDER ADMIRALS SAMPSON AND CERVERA. For the reasons just stated, it was upon Cervera's squadron that the attention of instructed military students was chiefly turned at the outset of the war. Grave suspicions as to its efficiency, indeed, were felt in many quarters, based partly upon actual knowledge of the neglect of the navy practised by the Spanish Government, and partly upon the inference that the general incapacity evident for years past in all the actions of the Spanish authorities, and notably in Cuba, could not but extend to the navy,--one of the most sensitive and delicate parts of any political organization; one of the first to go to pieces when the social and political foundations of a State are shaken, as was notably shown in the French Revolution. But, though suspected, the ineffectiveness of that squadron could not be assumed before proved. Until then--to use the words of an Italian writer who has treated the whole subject of this war with comprehensive and instructive perspicacity--Spain had "the possibility of contesting the command of the sea, and even of securing a definite preponderance, by means of a squadron possessed of truly exceptional characteristics, both tactical and strategic,"--in short, by means of a "fleet in being." It is true that in this estimate the writer quoted included the _Carlos V._, a new and high-powered armored cruiser, and also a number of protected cruisers and of torpedo vessels, of various kinds, all possessing a rate of speed much superior to the more distinctly fighting ships in which consisted the strength of the United States squadrons. Such a fleet, homogeneous in respect to the particular function which constitutes the power of a "fleet in being," whose effectiveness lies in its legs and in its moral effect, in its power to evade pursuit and to play upon the fears of an enemy, should be capable of rapid continuous movement; and such a fleet Spain actually possessed when the war broke out--only it was not ready. "This splendid fleet," resumed our Italian critic, giving rein, perhaps, to a Southern imagination, but not wholly without just reason, "would be in a condition to impose upon the enemy the character which the conflict should assume, alike in strategy and in tactics, and thereby could draw the best and greatest advantage from the actual situation, with a strong probability of partial results calculated to restore the equilibrium between the two belligerent fleets, or even of successes so decisive, if obtained immediately after the declaration of war, as to include a possibility of a Spanish preponderance." The present writer guards himself from being understood to accept fully this extensive programme for a fleet distinctly inferior in actual combative force; but the general assumption of the author quoted indicates the direction of effort which alone held out a hope of success, and which for that reason should have been vigorously followed by the Spanish authorities. As the Spanish Navy--whatever its defects in organization and practice--is not lacking in thoughtful and instructed officers, it is probable that the despatch of Cervera with only four ships, instead of at least the five armored cruisers well qualified to act together, which he might have had, not to speak of the important auxiliaries also disposable, was due to uninstructed popular and political pressure, of the same kind that in our country sought to force the division of our fleet among our ports. That the Spanish Government was thus goaded and taunted, at the critical period when Cervera was lying in Santiago, is certain. To that, most probably, judging from the words used in the Cortes, we owe the desperate sortie which delivered him into our hands and reduced Spain to inevitable submission. "The continuance of Cervera's division in Santiago, and its apparent inactivity," stated a leading naval periodical in Madrid, issued two days before the destruction of the squadron, "is causing marked currents of pessimism, and of disaffection towards the navy, especially since the Yankees have succeeded in effecting their proposed landing. This state of public feeling, which has been expressed with unrestricted openness in some journals, has been sanctioned in Congress by one of the Opposition members uttering very unguarded opinions, and reflecting injuriously upon the navy itself, as though upon it depended having more or fewer ships." The Minister of Marine, replying in the Cortes, paraphrased as follows, without contradiction, the words of this critic, which voiced, as it would appear, a popular clamor: "You ask, 'Why, after reaching Santiago, has the squadron not gone out, and why does it not now go out?' Why do four ships not go out to fight twenty? You ask again: 'If it does not go out, if it does not hasten to seek death, what is the use of squadrons? For what are fleets built, if not to be lost?' We are bound to believe, Señor Romero Robledo, that your words in this case express neither what you intended to say nor your real opinion." Nevertheless, they seem not to have received correction, nor to have been retracted; and to the sting of them, and of others of like character, is doubtless due the express order of the Ministry under which Cervera quitted his anchorage. Like ourselves, our enemy at the outset of the war had his fleet in two principal divisions: one still somewhat formless and as yet unready, but of very considerable power, was in the ports of the Peninsula; the other--Cervera's--at the Cape Verde Islands, a possession of Portugal. The latter was really exceptional in its qualities, as our Italian author has said. It was exceptional in a general sense, because homogeneous and composed of vessels of very high qualities, offensive and defensive; it was exceptional also, as towards us in particular, because we had of the same class but two ships,--one-half its own force,--the _New York_ and the _Brooklyn_; and, moreover, we had no torpedo cruisers to oppose to the three which accompanied it. These small vessels, while undoubtedly an encumbrance to a fleet in extended strategic movements in boisterous seas, because they cannot always keep up, are a formidable adjunct--tactical in character--in the day of battle, especially if the enemy has none of them; and in the mild Caribbean it was possible that they might not greatly delay their heavy consorts in passages which would usually be short. The two main divisions of the Spanish fleet were thus about fifteen hundred miles apart when war began on the 25th of April. The neutrality of Portugal made it impossible for Cervera to remain long in his then anchorage, and an immediate decision was forced upon his Government. It is incredible that among the advisers of the Minister of Marine--himself a naval officer--there was no one to point out that to send Cervera at once to the Antilles, no matter to what port, was to make it possible for the United States to prevent any future junction between himself and the remaining vessels of their navy. The squadron of either Sampson or Schley was able to fight him on terms of reasonable equality, to say the least. Either of our divisions, therefore, was capable of blockading him, if caught in port; and it was no more than just to us to infer that, when once thus cornered, we should, as we actually did at Santiago, assemble both divisions, so as to render escape most improbable and the junction of a reinforcement practically impossible. Such, in fact, was the intention from the very first: for, this done, all our other undertakings, Cuban blockade and what not, would be carried on safely, under cover of our watching fleet, were the latter distant ten miles or a thousand from such other operations. The writer, personally, attaches but little importance to the actual consequences of strictly offensive operations attempted by a "fleet in being," when of so inferior force. As suggested by Spanish and foreign officers, in various publications, they have appeared to him fantastic pranks of the imagination, such as he himself indulged in as a boy, rather than a sober judgment formed after considering both sides of the case. "I cannot but admire Captain Owen's zeal," wrote Nelson on one occasion, "in his anxious desire to get at the enemy, but I am afraid it has made him overleap sandbanks and tides, and laid him aboard the enemy. I am as little used to find out the impossible as most folks, and I think I can discriminate between the impracticable and the fair prospect of success." The potentialities of Cervera's squadron, after reaching the Spanish Antilles, must be considered under the limitations of his sandbanks and tides; of telegraph cables betraying his secrets, of difficulties and delays in coaling, of the chances of sudden occasional accidents to which all machinery is liable, multiplied in a fleet by the number of vessels composing it; and to these troubles, inevitable accompaniments of such operations, must in fairness be added the assumption of reasonable watchfulness and intelligence on the part of the United States, in the distribution of its lookouts and of its ships. The obvious palliative to the disadvantage thus incurred by Spain would have been to add to Cervera ships sufficient to force us at least to unite our two divisions, and to keep them joined. This, however, could not be done at once, because the contingent in Spain was not yet ready; and fear of political consequences and public criticism at home, such as that already quoted, probably deterred the enemy from the correct military measure of drawing Cervera's squadron back to the Canaries, some eight hundred or nine hundred miles; or even to Spain, if necessary. This squadron itself had recently been formed in just this way; two ships being drawn back from the Antilles and two sent forward from the Peninsula. If Spain decided to carry on the naval war in the Caribbean,--and to decide otherwise was to abandon Cuba in accordance with our demand,--she should have sent all the armored ships she could get together, and have thrown herself frankly, and at whatever cost, upon a mere defensive policy for her home waters, relying upon coast defences--or upon mere luck, if need were--for the safety of the ports. War cannot be made without running risks. When you have chosen your field for fighting, you must concentrate upon it, letting your other interests take their chance. To do this, however, men must have convictions, and conviction must rest upon knowledge, or else ignorant clamor and contagious panic will sweep away every reasonable teaching of military experience. And so Cervera went forth with his four gallant ships, foredoomed to his fate by folly, or by national false pride, exhibited in the form of political pressure disregarding sound professional judgment and military experience. We were not without manifestations here of the same uninstructed and ignoble outcry; but fortunately our home conditions permitted it to be disregarded without difficulty. Nevertheless, although under circumstances thus favorable we escaped the worst effects of such lack of understanding, the indications were sufficient to show how hard, in a moment of real emergency, it will be for the Government to adhere to sound military principles, if there be not some appreciation of these in the mass of the people; or, at the very least, among the leaders to whom the various parts of the country are accustomed to look for guidance. It may be profitable at this point to recall a few dates; after which the narrative, avoiding superfluous details, can be continued in such outline as is required for profitable comment, and for eliciting the more influential factors in the course of events, with the consequent military lessons from them to be deduced. On April 20th the President of the United States approved the joint resolution passed by the two Houses of Congress, declaring the independence of Cuba, and demanding that Spain should relinquish her authority there and withdraw her forces. A blockade, dated April 22nd, was declared of the north coast of Cuba, from Cardenas on the east to Bahia Honda, west of Havana, and of the port of Cienfuegos on the south side of the island. On April 25th a bill declaring that war between the United States and Spain existed, and had existed since the 21st of the month, was passed by Congress and approved the same evening by the President, thus adding another instance to the now commonplace observation that hostilities more frequently precede than follow a formal declaration. On April 29th, Admiral Cervera's division--four armored cruisers and three torpedo destroyers--quitted the Cape de Verde Islands for an unknown destination, and disappeared during near a fortnight from the knowledge of the United States authorities. On May 1, Commodore Dewey by a dash, the rapidity and audacity of which reflected the highest credit upon his professional qualities, destroyed the Spanish squadron at Manila, thereby paralyzing also all Spanish operations in the East. The Government of the United States was thus, during an appreciable time, and as it turned out finally, released from all military anxiety about the course of events in that quarter. Meantime the blockade of the Cuban coasts, as indicated above, had been established effectively, to the extent demanded by international law, which requires the presence upon the coast, or before the port, declared blockaded, of such a force as shall constitute a manifest danger of capture to vessels seeking to enter or to depart. In the reserved, not to say unfriendly, attitude assumed by many of the European States, the precise character of which is not fully known, and perhaps never will be, it was not only right, but practically necessary, to limit the extent of coast barred to merchant ships to that which could be thus effectually guarded, leaving to neutral governments no sound ground for complaint. Blockade is one of the rights conceded to belligerent States, by universal agreement, which directly, as well as indirectly, injures neutrals, imposing pecuniary losses by restraints upon trade previously in their hands. The ravages of the insurrection and the narrow policy of Spain in seeking to monopolize intercourse with her colonies had, indeed, already grievously reduced the commerce of the island; but with our war there was sure to spring up a vigorous effort, both legal and contraband, to introduce stores of all kinds, especially the essentials of life, the supply of which was deficient. Such cargoes, not being clearly contraband, could be certainly excluded only by blockade; and the latter, in order fully to serve our military objects, needed at the least to cover every port In railway communication with Havana, where the bulk of the Spanish army was assembled. This it was impossible to effect at the first, because we had not ships enough; and therefore, as always in such cases, a brisk neutral trade, starting from Jamaica and from Mexico, as well as from Europe and the North American Continent, was directed upon the harbors just outside the limits of the blockade,--towards Sagua la Grande and adjacent waters in the north, and to Batabano and other ports in the south. Such trade would be strictly lawful, from an international standpoint, unless declared by us to be contraband, because aiding to support the army of the enemy; and such declarations, by which provisions are included in the elastic, but ill-defined category of contraband, tend always to provoke the recriminations and unfriendliness of neutral states. Blockade avoids the necessity for definitions, for by it all goods become contraband; the extension of it therefore was to us imperative. As things were, although this neutral trade frustrated our purposes to a considerable degree, it afforded us no ground for complaint. On the contrary, we were at times hard driven by want of vessels to avoid laying ourselves open to reclamation, on the score of the blockade being invalid, even within its limited range, because ineffective. This was especially the case at the moment when the army was being convoyed from Tampa, as well as immediately before, and for some days after that occasion: before, because it was necessary then to detach from the blockade and to assemble elsewhere the numerous small vessels needed to check the possible harmful activity of the Spanish gunboats along the northern coast, and afterwards, because the preliminary operations about Santiago, concurring with dark nights favorable to Cervera's escape, made it expedient to retain there many of the lighter cruisers, which, moreover, needed recoaling,--a slow business when so many ships were involved. Our operations throughout labored--sometimes more, sometimes less--under this embarrassment, which should be borne in mind as a constant, necessary, yet perplexing element in the naval and military plans. The blockade, in fact, while the army was still unready, and until the Spanish Navy came within reach, was the one decisive measure, sure though slow in its working, which could be taken; the necessary effect of which was to bring the enemy's ships to this side of the ocean, unless Spain was prepared to abandon the contest. The Italian writer already quoted, a fair critic, though Spanish in his leanings, enumerates among the circumstances most creditable to the direction of the war by the Navy Department the perception that "blockade must inevitably cause collapse, given the conditions of insurrection and of exhaustion already existing in the island." From this specific instance, the same author, whose military judgments show much breadth of view, later on draws a general conclusion which is well worth the attention of American readers, because much of our public thought is committed to the belief that at sea private property, so called,--that is, merchant ships and their cargoes,--should not be liable to capture in war; which, duly interpreted, means that the commerce of one belligerent is not to be attacked or interrupted by the other. "Blockade," says our Italian, "is the fundamental basis of the conflict for the dominion of the seas, when the contest cannot be brought to an immediate issue;" that is, to immediate battle. Blockade, however, is but one form of the unbloody pressure brought to bear upon an enemy by interruption of his commerce. The stoppage of commerce, in whole or in part, exhausts without fighting. It compels peace without sacrificing life. It is the most scientific warfare, because the least sanguinary, and because, like the highest strategy, it is directed against the communications,--the resources,--not the persons, of the enemy. It has been the glory of sea-power that its ends are attained by draining men of their dollars instead of their blood. Eliminate the attack upon an enemy's sea-borne commerce from the conditions of naval war,--in which heretofore it has been always a most important factor,--and the sacrifice of life will be proportionately increased, for two reasons: First, the whole decision of the contest will rest upon actual conflict; and, second, failing decisive results in battle, the war will be prolonged, because by retaining his trade uninjured the enemy retains all his money power to keep up his armed forces. The establishment and maintenance of the blockade therefore was, in the judgment of the present writer, not only the first step in order, but also the first, by far, in importance, open to the Government of the United States as things were; prior, that is, to the arrival of Cervera's division at some known and accessible point. Its importance lay in its twofold tendency; to exhaust the enemy's army in Cuba, and to force his navy to come to the relief. No effect more decisive than these two could be produced by us before the coming of the hostile navy, or the readiness of our own army to take the field, permitted the contest to be brought, using the words of our Italian commentator, "to an immediate issue." Upon the blockade, therefore, the generally accepted principles of warfare would demand that effort should be concentrated, until some evident radical change in the conditions dictated a change of object,--a new objective; upon which, when accepted, effort should again be concentrated, with a certain amount of "exclusiveness of purpose." Blockade, however, implies not merely a sufficient number of cruisers to prevent the entry or departure of merchant ships. It further implies, because it requires, a strong supporting force sufficient to resist being driven off by an attack from within or from without the port; for it is an accepted tenet of international law that a blockade raised by force ceases to exist, and cannot be considered re-established until a new proclamation and reoccupancy of the ground in force. Hence it follows that, prior to such re-establishment, merchant vessels trying to enter or to depart cannot be captured in virtue of the previous proclamation. Consequent upon this requirement, therefore, the blockades on the north and on the south side, to be secure against this military accident, should each have been supported by a division of armored ships capable of meeting Cervera's division on fairly equal terms; for, considering the sea distance between Cienfuegos and Havana, one such division could not support both blockades. It has already been indicated why it was impossible so to sustain the Cienfuegos blockaders. The reason, in the last analysis, was our insufficient sea-coast fortification. The Flying Squadron was kept in Hampton Roads to calm the fears of the seaboard, and to check any enterprise there of Cervera, if intended or attempted. The other division of the armored fleet, however, was placed before Havana, where its presence not only strengthened adequately the blockading force proper, but assured also the safety of our naval base at Key West, both objects being attainable by the same squadron, on account of their nearness to each other. It should likewise be noticed that the same principle of concentration of effort upon the single purpose--the blockade--forbade, _a priori_, any attempts at bombardment by which our armored ships should be brought within range of disablement by heavy guns on shore. If the blockade was our object, rightly or wrongly, and if a blockade, to be secure against serious disturbance, required all the armored ships at our disposal,--as it did,--it follows logically and rigorously that to risk those ships by attacking forts is false to principle, unless special reasons can be adduced sufficiently strong to bring such action within the scope of the principle properly applied. It is here necessary clearly to distinguish. Sound principles in warfare are as useful and as necessary as in morals; when established, the presumption in any case is all on their side, and there is no one of them better established than concentration. But as in morals, so in war, the application of principle, the certainty of right, is not always clear. Could it always be, war would be an exact science; which it is not, but an art, in which true artists are as few as in painting or sculpture. It may be that a bombardment of the fortifications of Havana, or of some other place, might have been expedient, for reasons unknown to the writer; but it is clearly and decisively his opinion that if it would have entailed even a remote risk of serious injury to an armored ship, it stood condemned irretrievably (unless it conduced to getting at the enemy's navy), because it would hazard the maintenance of the blockade, our chosen object, upon which our efforts should be concentrated.[2] There is concentration of purpose, as well as concentration in place, and ex-centric action in either sphere is contrary to sound military principle. The question of keeping the armored division under Admiral Sampson in the immediate neighborhood of Havana, for the purpose of supporting the blockade by the lighter vessels, was one upon which some diversity of opinion might be expected to arise. Cervera's destination was believed--as it turned out, rightly believed--to be the West Indies. His precise point of arrival was a matter of inference only, as in fact was his general purpose. A natural surmise was that he would go first to Puerto Rico, for reasons previously indicated. But if coal enough remained to him, it was very possible that he might push on at once to his ultimate objective, if that were a Cuban port, thus avoiding the betrayal of his presence at all until within striking distance of his objective. That he could get to the United States coast without first entering a coaling port, whence he would be reported, was antecedently most improbable; and, indeed, it was fair to suppose that, if bound to Havana, coal exigencies would compel him to take a pretty short route, and to pass within scouting range of the Windward Passage, between Cuba and Haïti. Whatever the particular course of reasoning, it was decided that a squadron under Admiral Sampson's command should proceed to the Windward Passage for the purpose of observation, with a view to going further eastward if it should appear advisable. Accordingly, on the 4th of May, five days after Cervera left the Cape de Verde, the Admiral sailed for the appointed position, taking with him all his armored sea-going ships--the _Iowa_, the _Indiana_, and the _New York_--and two monitors, the _Amphitrite_ and the _Terror_. Of course, some smaller cruisers and a collier accompanied him. It is almost too obvious for mention that this movement, if undertaken at all, should be made, as it was, with all the force disposable, this being too small to be safely divided. The monitors promptly, though passively, proceeded to enforce another ancient maritime teaching,--the necessity for homogeneousness, especially of speed and manoeuvring qualities, in vessels intending to act together. Of inferior speed at the best, they had, owing to their small coal endurance, and to minimize the delay in the progress of the whole body, consequent upon their stopping frequently to coal, to be towed each by an armored ship,--an expedient which, although the best that could be adopted, entailed endless trouble and frequent stoppages through the breaking of the tow-lines. [Illustration: The Caribbean Sea (map)] Shortly before midnight of May 7th, the squadron was twenty miles north of Cape Haïtien, about six hundred sea miles east of Havana. It was there learned, by telegrams received from the Department, that no information had yet been obtained as to the movements of the Spanish division, but that two swift steamers, lately of the American Transatlantic line, had been sent to scout to the eastward of Martinique and Guadaloupe. The instructions to these vessels were to cruise along a north and south line, eighty miles from the islands named. They met at the middle once a day, communicated, and then went back in opposite directions to the extremities of the beat. In case the enemy were discovered, word of course would be sent from the nearest cable port to Washington, and to the Admiral, if accessible. The two vessels were directed to continue on this service up to a certain time, which was carefully calculated to meet the extreme possibilities of slowness on the part of the Spanish division, if coming that way; afterwards they were to go to a given place, and report. It may be added that they remained their full time, and yet missed by a hair's breadth sighting the enemy. The captain of one of them, the _Harvard_, afterwards told the writer that he believed another stretch to the south would have rewarded him with success. The case was one in which blame could be imputed to nobody; unless it were to the Spaniards, in disappointing our very modest expectations concerning their speed as a squadron, which is a very different thing from the speed of a single ship. Among the telegrams received at this time by the Admiral from the Department were reports of rumors that colliers for the Spanish division had been seen near Guadaloupe; also that Spanish vessels were coaling and loading ammunition at St. Thomas. Neither of these was well founded, nor was it likely that the enemy's division would pause for such purpose at a neutral island, distant, as St. Thomas is, less than one hundred miles from their own harbors in Puerto Rico. Immediately after the receipt of these telegrams, the Admiral summoned all his captains between 12 and 4 A.M., May 9th, to a consultation regarding the situation. He then decided to go on to San Juan, the chief seaport of Puerto Rico, upon the chance of finding the Spanish squadron there. The coaling of the monitors, which had begun when the squadron stopped the previous afternoon, was resumed next morning. At 11.15, May 9th, a telegram from the Department reported a story, "published in the newspapers," that the Spanish division had been seen on the night of the 7th, near Martinique. The Department's telegram betrayed also some anxiety about Key West and the Havana blockade; but, while urging a speedy return, the details of the Admiral's movements were left to his own discretion. The squadron then stood east, and on the early morning of the 12th arrived off San Juan. An attack upon the forts followed at once, lasting from 5.30 to 7.45 A.M.; but, as it was evident that the Spanish division was not there, the Admiral decided not to continue the attack, although satisfied that he could force a surrender. His reasons for desisting are given in his official report as follows:-- "The fact that we should be held several days in completing arrangements for holding the place; that part [of the squadron] would have to be left to await the arrival of troops to garrison it; that the movements of the Spanish squadron, our main objective, were still unknown; that the Flying Squadron was still north and not in a position to render any aid; that Havana, Cervera's natural objective, was thus open to entry by such a force as his, while we were a thousand miles distant,--made our immediate movement toward Havana imperative." It will be noted that the Admiral's conclusions, as here given, coincided substantially with the feeling of the Department as expressed in the telegram last mentioned. The squadron started back immediately to the westward. During the night of this same day, Thursday, May 12th, towards midnight, reliable information was received at the Navy Department that Cervera's squadron had arrived off Martinique,--four armored cruisers and three torpedo destroyers, one of the latter entering the principal port of the island. The movements of the Spanish division immediately preceding its appearance off Martinique can be recovered in the main from the log of the _Cristobal Colon_, which was found on board that ship by the United States officers upon taking possession after her surrender on July 3. Some uncertainty attends the conclusions reached from its examination, because the record is brief and not always precise in its statements; but, whatever inaccuracy of detail there may be, the general result is clear enough. At noon on May 10th the division was one hundred and thirty miles east of the longitude of Martinique, and fifteen miles south of its southernmost point. Being thus within twelve hours' run of the island, Admiral Cervera evidently, and reasonably, considered that he might now be in the neighborhood of danger, if the United States Government had decided to attempt to intercept him with an armored division, instead of sticking to the dispositions known to him when he sailed,--the blockade of Cuba and the holding the Flying Squadron in reserve. In order not to fall in with an enemy unexpectedly, especially during the night, the speed of the division was reduced to something less than four knots, and the torpedo destroyer _Terror_ was sent ahead to reconnoitre and report. The incident of her separating from her consorts is not noted,--a singular omission, due possibly to its occurring at night and so escaping observation by the _Colon_; but it is duly logged that she was sighted "to port" next morning, May 11th, at 9 A.M., and that, until she was recognized, the crew were sent to their quarters for action. This precaution had also been observed during the previous night, the men sleeping beside their guns,--a sufficient evidence of the suspicions entertained by the Spanish Admiral. At 10 A.M.--by which hour, or very soon afterwards, the communication of the _Terror_ with the Admiral recorded by the log must have taken place--there had been abundance of time since daybreak for a 15-knot torpedo destroyer, low-lying in the water, to remain unseen within easy scouting distance of Martinique, and thence to rejoin the squadron, which would then be forty or fifty miles distant from the island. She could even, by putting forth all her speed, have communicated with the shore; possibly without the knowledge of the American representatives on the spot, if the sympathies of the inhabitants were with the Spaniards, as has been generally believed. However that may be, shortly after her junction the division went ahead again seven knots, the speed logged at noon of May 11th, which, as steam formed, was increased to ten knots. At 4 P.M. Martinique was abeam on the starboard hand--north. At sundown the ships went to general quarters, and the crews were again kept at their guns during the night. By this time Cervera doubtless had been informed that Sampson's division had gone east from Cuba, but its destination could have been only a matter of inference with him, for the attack upon San Juan did not take place till the following morning. The fact of keeping his men at quarters also justifies the conclusion that he was thus uncertain about Sampson, for the stationariness of the Flying Squadron would be known at Martinique. After mentioning that the ship's company went to quarters, the log of the _Colon_ adds: "Stopped from 5.15 to 6 A.M." Whether the 5.15 was A.M. or P.M., whether, in short, the squadron continued practically motionless during the night of May 11th-12th, can only be conjectured, but there can be little doubt that it did so remain. The Spaniards still observe the old-fashioned sea-day of a century ago, abandoned long since by the British and ourselves, according to which May 12th begins at noon of May 11th. A continuous transaction, such as stopping from evening to morning, would fall, therefore, in the log of the same day, as it here does; whereas in a United States ship of war, even were our records as brief and fragmentary as the _Colon's_, the fact of the stoppage, extending over the logs of two days, would have been mentioned in each. It is odd, after passing an hour or two in putting this and that together out of so incomplete a narrative, to find recorded in full, a few days later, the following notable incident: "At 2.30 P.M. flagship made signal: 'If you want fresh beef, send boat.' Answered: 'Many thanks; do not require any.'" Log-books do state such occurrences, particularly when matters of signal; but then they are supposed also to give a reasonably full account of each day's important proceedings. Whatever the movements back and forth, or the absence of movement, by the Spanish ships during the night, at 7.10 A.M. the next day, May 12th, while Sampson's division was still engaged with the forts at San Juan, they were close to Martinique, "four miles from Diamond Rock," a detached islet at its southern end. The next entry, the first for the sea-day of May 13th, is: "At 12.20 P.M. lost sight of Martinique." As the land there is high enough to be visible forty or fifty miles under favorable conditions, and as the squadron on its way to Curaçao averaged 11 knots per hour, it seems reasonable to infer that the Spanish Admiral, having received news of the attack on San Juan, though possibly not of the result, had determined upon a hasty departure and a hurried run to the end of his journey, before he could be intercepted by Sampson, the original speed of whose ships was inferior to that of his own, and whom he knew to be hampered by monitors. The Spaniards did not take coal at Martinique. This may have been due to refusal by the French officials to permit it, according to a common neutral rule which allows a neutral only to give enough to reach the nearest national port. As the ships still had enough to reach Curaçao, they had more than enough to go to Puerto Rico. It may very well be, also, that Cervera, not caring to meet Sampson, whose force, counting the monitors, was superior to his own, thought best to disappear at once again from our knowledge. He did indeed prolong his journey to Santiago, if that were his original destination, by nearly two hundred miles, through going to Curaçao; not to speak of the delay there in coaling. But, if the Dutch allowed him to take all that he wanted, he would in his final start be much nearer Cuba than at Martinique, and he would be able, as far as fuel went, to reach either Santiago, Cienfuegos, or Puerto Rico, or even Havana itself,--all which possibilities would tend to perplex us. It is scarcely probable, however, that he would have attempted the last-named port. To do so, not to speak of the greater hazard through the greater distance, would, in case of his success, not merely have enabled, but invited, the United States to concentrate its fleet in the very best position for us, where it would not only have "contained" the enemy, but have best protected our own base at Key West. In the absence of certain knowledge, conjectural opinions, such as the writer has here educed, are not unprofitable; rather the reverse. To form them, the writer and the reader place themselves perforce nearly in Cervera's actual position, and pass through their own minds the grist of unsolved difficulties which confronted him. The result of such a process is a much more real mental possession than is yielded by a quiet perusal of any ascertained facts, because it involves an argumentative consideration of opposing conditions, and not a mere passive acceptance of statements. The general conclusion of the present writer, from this consideration of Cervera's position, and of that of our own Government, is that the course of the Spanish Admiral was opportunist, solely and simply. Such, in general, and necessarily, must be that of any "fleet in being," in the strict sense of the phrase, which involves inferiority of force; whereas the stronger force, if handled with sagacity and strength, constrains the weaker in its orbit as the earth governs the moon. Placed in an extremely false position by the fault, militarily unpardonable, of his Government, Admiral Cervera doubtless did the best he could. That in so doing he caused the United States authorities to pass through some moments of perplexity is certain, but it was the perplexity of interest rather than of apprehension; and in so far as the latter was felt at all, it was due to antecedent faults of disposition on our own part, the causes of which have been in great measure indicated already. The writer is not an angler, but he understands that there is an anxious pleasure in the suspense of playing a fish, as in any important contest involving skill. To say that there was any remarkable merit in the movements of the Spanish Admiral is as absurd as to attribute particular cleverness to a child who, with his hands behind his back, asks the old conundrum, "Right or left?" "It is all a matter of guess," said Nelson, "and the world attributes wisdom to him who guesses right;" but all the same, by unremitting watchfulness, sagacious inference, and diligent pursuit, he ran the French fleet down. At Martinique, Admiral Cervera had all the West Indies before him where to choose, and the United States coast too, conditioned by coal and other needs, foreseen or unforeseen. We ran him down at Santiago; and had he vanished from there, we should have caught him somewhere else. The attempt of the Spanish authorities to create an impression that some marvellous feat of strategy was in process of execution, to the extreme discomfiture of the United States navy, was natural enough, considering the straits they were in, and the consciousness of the capable among them that a squadron of that force never should have been sent across the sea; but, though natural, the pretension was absurd, and, though echoed by all the partisan Press in Europe, it did not for a moment impose as true upon those who were directing the movements of the United States ships. FOOTNOTES: [2] A principal object of these papers, as has been stated, is to form a correct public opinion; for by public opinion, if misguided, great embarrassment is often caused to those responsible for the conduct of a war. As concrete examples teach far better than abstract principles, the writer suggests to the consideration of his readers how seriously would have been felt, during the hostilities, the accident which befell the battleship _Massachusetts_, on Dec. 14, 1898, a month after the above sentences were written. An injury in battle, engaged without adequate object, would have had the same effect, and been indefensible. IV PROBLEMS PRESENTED BY CERVERA'S APPEARANCE IN WEST INDIAN WATERS.--MOVEMENTS OF THE UNITED STATES DIVISIONS AND OF THE OREGON.--FUNCTIONS OF CRUISERS IN A NAVAL CAMPAIGN. The departure of Admiral Cervera from Martinique for Curaçao was almost simultaneous with that of Admiral Sampson from San Juan for Key West. The immediate return of the latter to the westward was dictated by reasons, already given in his own words, the weight of which he doubtless felt more forcibly because he found himself actually so far away from the centre of the blockade and from his base at Key West. When he began thus to retrace his steps, he was still ignorant of Cervera's arrival. The following night, indeed, he heard from a passing vessel the rumor of the Spanish squadron's regaining Cadiz, with which the Navy Department had been for a moment amused. He stopped, therefore, to communicate with Washington, intending, if the rumor were confirmed, to resume the attack upon San Juan. But on the morning of the 15th--Sunday--at 3.30, his despatch-boat returned to him with the official intelligence, not only of the enemy's being off Martinique, but of his arrival at Curaçao, which occurred shortly after daylight of the 14th. The same telegram informed him that the Flying Squadron was on its way to Key West, and directed him to regain that point himself with all possible rapidity. Cervera left behind him at Martinique one of his torpedo destroyers, the _Terror_. A demonstration was made by this vessel, probably, though it may have been by one of her fellows, before St. Pierre,--another port of the island,--where the _Harvard_ was lying; and as the latter had been sent hurriedly from home with but a trifling battery, some anxiety was felt lest the enemy might score a point upon her, if the local authorities compelled her to leave. If the Spaniard had been as fast as represented, he would have had an advantage over the American in both speed and armament,--very serious odds. The machinery of the former, however, was in bad order, and she soon had to seek a harbor in Fort de France, also in Martinique; after which the usual rule, that two belligerents may not leave the same neutral port within twenty-four hours of each other, assured the _Harvard_ a safe start. This incident, otherwise trivial, is worthy of note, for it shows one of the results of our imperfect national preparation for war. If the conditions had allowed time to equip the _Harvard_ with suitable guns, she could have repulsed such an enemy, as a ship of the same class, the _St. Paul_, did a few weeks later off San Juan, whither the _Terror_ afterwards repaired, and where she remained till the war was over. The news of Cervera's appearance off Martinique was first received at the Navy Department about midnight of May 12th-13th, nearly thirty-six hours after the fact. As our representatives there, and generally throughout the West Indies, were very much on the alert, it seems not improbable that their telegrams, to say the least, were not given undue precedence of other matters. That, however, is one of the chances of life, and most especially of war. It is more to the purpose, because more useful to future guidance, to consider the general situation at the moment the telegram was received, the means at hand to meet the exigencies of the case, and what instructive light is thereby thrown back upon preceding movements, which had resulted in the actual conditions. Admiral Cervera's division had been at Martinique, and, after a brief period of suspense, was known to have disappeared to the westward. The direction taken, however, might, nay, almost certainly must, be misleading,--that was part of his game. From it nothing could be decisively inferred. The last news of the _Oregon_ was that she had left Bahia, in Brazil, on the 9th of the month. Her whereabouts and intended movements were as unknown to the United States authorities as to the enemy. An obvious precaution, to assure getting assistance to her, would have been to prescribe the exact route she should follow, subject only to the conditional discretion which can never wisely be taken from the officer in command on the spot. In that way it would have been possible to send a division to meet her, if indications at any moment countenanced the suspicion entertained by some--the author among others--that Cervera would attempt to intercept her. After careful consideration, this precaution had not been attempted, because the tight censorship of the Press had not then been effectually enforced, and it was feared that even so vital and evident a necessity as that of concealing her movements would not avail against the desire of some newspapers to manifest enterprise, at whatever cost to national interests. If we ever again get into a serious war, a close supervision of the Press, punitive as well as preventive, will be one of the first military necessities, unless the tone and disposition, not of the best, but of the worst, of its members shall have become sensibly improved; for occasional unintentional leakage, by well-meaning officials possessing more information than native secretiveness, cannot be wholly obviated, and must be accepted, practically, as one of the inevitable difficulties of conducting war. The _Oregon_, therefore, was left a loose end, and was considered to be safer so than if more closely looked after. From the time she left Bahia till she arrived at Barbados, and from thence till she turned up off Jupiter Inlet, on the Florida coast, no one in Washington knew where she was. Nevertheless, she continued a most important and exposed fraction of the national naval force. That Cervera had turned west when last seen from Martinique meant nothing. It was more significant and reassuring to know that he had not got coal there. Still, it was possible that he might take a chance off Barbados, trusting, as he with perfect reason could, that when he had waited there as long as his coal then on hand permitted, the British authorities would let him take enough more to reach Puerto Rico, as they did give Captain Clark sufficient to gain a United States port. When the _Oregon_ got to Barbados at 3.20 A.M. of May 18th, less than six days had elapsed since Cervera quitted Martinique; and the two islands are barely one hundred miles apart. All this, of course, is very much more clear to our present knowledge than it could possibly be to the Spanish Admiral, who probably, and not unnaturally, thought it far better to get his "fleet in being" under the guns of a friendly port than to hazard it on what might prove a wild-goose chase; for, after all, Captain Clark might not have gone to Barbados. It may be interesting to the reader to say here that the Navy Department,--which was as much in the dark as Cervera himself,--although it was necessarily concerned about the _Oregon_, and gave much thought to the problem how best to assure her safety, was comforted by the certainty that, whatever befell the ship, the national interests would not be gravely compromised if she did meet the enemy. The situation was not novel or unprecedented, and historical precedents are an immense support to the spirit in doubtful moments. Conscious of the power of the ship herself, and confident in her captain and officers, whom it knew well, the Department was assured, to use words of Nelson when he was expecting to be similarly outnumbered, "Before we are destroyed, I have little doubt but the enemy will have their wings so completely clipped that they will be easily overtaken." Such odds for our ship were certainly not desired; but, the best having been done that could be in the circumstances, there was reasonable ground to believe that, by the time the enemy got through with her, they would not amount to much as a fighting squadron. Some little while after the return of Admiral Sampson's squadron to New York, the writer chanced to see, quoted as an after-dinner speech by the chief engineer of the _Oregon_, the statement that Captain Clark had communicated to his officers the tactics he meant to pursue, if he fell in with the Spanish division. His purpose, as so explained, deserves to be noted; for it assures our people, if they need any further assurance, that in the single ship, as in the squadrons, intelligent skill as well as courage presided in the councils of the officers in charge. The probability was that the Spanish vessels, though all reputed faster than the _Oregon_, had different rates of speed, and each singly was inferior to her in fighting force, in addition to which the American ship had a very heavy stern battery. The intention therefore was, in case of a meeting, to turn the stern to the enemy and to make a running fight. This not only gave a superiority of fire to the _Oregon_ so long as the relative positions lasted, but it tended, of course, to prolong it, confining the enemy to their bow fire and postponing to the utmost possible the time of their drawing near enough to open with the broadside rapid-fire batteries. Moreover, if the Spanish vessels were not equally fast, and if their rate of speed did not much exceed that of the _Oregon_, both very probable conditions, it was quite possible that in the course of the action the leading ship would outstrip her followers so much as to be engaged singly, and even that two or more might thus be successively beaten in detail. If it be replied that this is assuming a great deal, and attributing stupidity to the enemy, the answer is that the result here supposed has not infrequently followed upon similar action, and that war is full of uncertainties,--an instance again of the benefit and comfort which some historical acquaintance with the experience of others imparts to a man engaged with present perplexities. Deliberately to incur such odds would be unjustifiable; but when unavoidably confronted with them, resolution enlightened by knowledge may dare still to hope. An instructive instance of drawing such support from the very fountain heads of military history, in the remote and even legendary past, is given by Captain Clark in a letter replying to inquiries from the present writer:-- "There is little to add to what you already know about the way I hoped to fight Cervera's fleet, if we fell in with it. What I feared was that he would be able to bring his ships up within range together, supposing that the slowest was faster than the _Oregon_; but there was the chance that their machinery was in different stages of deterioration, and there was also the hope that impetuosity or excitement might after a time make some press on in advance of the others. I, of course, had in mind the tactics of the last of the Horatii, and hopefully referred to them. The announcement Milligan (the chief engineer) spoke of was made before we reached Bahia, I think before we turned Cape Frio, as it was off that headland that I decided to leave the _Marietta_ and _Nictheroy_, (now the _Buffalo_), and to push on alone. You may be sure that was an anxious night for me when I decided to part company. The Department was, of course, obliged to leave much to my discretion, and I knew that the Spaniards might all close to rapid-fire range, overpower all but our turret guns, and then send in their torpedo boats." It was upon the _Marietta_ that he had previously depended, in a measure, to thwart the attacks of these small vessels; but in such a contest as that with four armored cruisers she could scarcely count, and she was delaying his progress in the run immediately before him. "The torpedo boat [he continues] was a rattlesnake to me, that I feared would get in his work while I was fighting the tiger; but I felt that the chances were that Cervera was bound to the West Indies, and so that the need of the _Oregon_ there was so great that the risk of his turning south to meet me should be run, so I hurried to Bahia, and cabled to the Department my opinion of what the _Oregon_ might do alone and in a running fight.... My object was to add the _Oregon_ to our fleet, and not to meet the Spaniards, if it could be avoided." It may be added that in this his intention coincided with the wish of the Department. "So when, in Barbados, the reports came off that the Spanish fleet (and rumors had greatly increased its size) was at Martinique, that three torpedo boats had been seen from the island, I ordered coal to be loaded till after midnight, but left soon after dark, started west, then turned and went around the island"--that is, well to the eastward--"and made to the northward." This was on the evening of May 18th. Six days later the ship was off the coast of Florida, and in communication with the Department. The _Oregon_ may properly be regarded as one of the three principal detachments into which the United States fleet was divided at the opening of the eventful week, May 12th-19th, and which, however they might afterwards be distributed around the strategic centre,--which we had chosen should be about Havana and Cienfuegos,--needed to be brought to it as rapidly as possible. No time was avoidably lost. On the evening of May 13th, eighteen hours after Cervera's appearance at Martinique was reported, the two larger divisions, under Sampson and Schley, were consciously converging upon our point of concentration at Key West; while the third, the _Oregon_, far more distant, was also moving to the same place in the purpose of the Department, though, as yet, unconsciously to herself. Sampson had over twenty-four hours' start of the Flying Squadron; and the distances to be traversed, from Puerto Rico and Hampton Roads, were practically the same.[3] But the former was much delayed by the slowness of the monitors, and, great as he felt the need of haste to be, and urgent as was the Department's telegram, received on the 15th, he very properly would not allow his vessels to separate until nearer their destination. Precautionary orders were sent by him to the _Harvard_ and _Yale_--two swift despatch vessels then under his immediate orders--to coal to the utmost and to hold themselves at the end of a cable ready for immediate orders; while Commodore Remey, commanding at Key West, was directed to have every preparation complete for coaling the squadron on the 18th, when it might be expected to arrive. The _St. Louis_, a vessel of the same type as the _Harvard_, met the Admiral while these telegrams were being written. She was ordered to cut the cables at Santiago and Guantanamo Bay, and afterwards at Ponce, Puerto Rico. The Flying Squadron had sailed at 4 P.M. of the 13th. Its fighting force consisted of the _Brooklyn_, armored cruiser, flagship; the _Massachusetts_, first-class, and the _Texas_, second-class, battleships. It is to be inferred from the departure of these vessels that the alarm about our own coast, felt while the whereabouts of the hostile division was unknown, vanished when it made its appearance. The result was, perhaps, not strictly logical; but the logic of the step is of less consequence than its undoubted military correctness. We had chosen our objective, and now we were concentrating upon it,--a measure delayed too long, though unavoidably. Commodore Schley was directed to call off Charleston for orders; for, while it is essential to have a settled strategic idea in any campaign, it is also necessary, in maritime warfare, at all events, to be ready to change a purpose suddenly and to turn at once upon the great objective,--which dominates and supersedes all others,--the enemy's navy, when a reasonable prospect of destroying it, or any large fraction of it, offers. When Schley left Hampton Roads, it was known only that the Spanish division had appeared off Martinique. The general intention, that our own should go to Key West, must therefore be held subject to possible modification, and to that end communication at a half-way point was imperative. No detention was thereby caused. At 4.30 P.M. of the 15th the Flying Squadron, which had been somewhat delayed by ten hours of dense fog, came off Charleston Bar, where a lighthouse steamer had been waiting since the previous midnight. From the officer in charge of her the Commodore received his orders, and at 6 P.M. was again under way for Key West, where he arrived on the 18th, anticipating by several hours Sampson's arrival in person, and by a day the coming of the slower ships of the other division. But if it is desirable to ensure frequent direct communication with the larger divisions of the fleet, at such a moment, when their movements must be held subject to sudden change to meet the as yet uncertain developments of the enemy's strategy, it is still more essential to keep touch from a central station with the swift single cruisers, the purveyors of intelligence and distributors of the information upon which the conduct of the war depends. If the broad strategic conception of the naval campaign is correct, and the consequent action consistent, the greater fighting units--squadrons or fleets--may be well, or better, left to themselves, after the initial impulse of direction is given, and general instructions have been issued to their commanders. These greater units, however, cannot usually be kept at the end of a telegraph cable; yet they must, through cables, maintain, with their centres of intelligence, communication so frequent as to be practically constant. The Flying Squadron when off Cienfuegos, and Admiral Sampson's division at the time now under consideration, while on its passage from San Juan to Key West, are instances in point. Conversely, dependence may be placed upon local agents to report an enemy when he enters port; but when at sea for an unknown destination, it is necessary, if practicable, to get and keep touch with him, and to have his movements, actual and probable, reported. In short, steady communication must be maintained, as far as possible, between the always fixed points where the cables end, and the more variable positions where the enemy's squadrons and our own are, whether for a stay or in transit. This can be done only through swift despatch vessels; and for these, great as is the need that no time be wasted in their missions, the homely proverb, "more haste, less speed," has to be kept in mind. To stop off at a wayside port, to diverge even considerably from the shortest route, may often be a real economy of time. The office of cruisers thus employed is to substitute certainty for conjecture; to correct or to confirm, by fuller knowledge, the inferences upon which the conduct of operations otherwise so much depends. Accurate intelligence is one of the very first _desiderata_ of war, and as the means of obtaining and transmitting it are never in excess of the necessities, those means have to be carefully administered. Historically, no navy ever has had cruisers enough; partly because the lookout and despatch duties themselves are so extensive and onerous; partly because vessels of the class are wanted for other purposes also,--as, for instance, in our late war, for the blockade of the Cuban ports, which was never much more than technically "effective," and for the patrolling of our Atlantic seaboard. True economical use of the disposable vessels, obtaining the largest results with the least expenditure of means never adequate, demands much forethought and more management, and is best effected by so arranging that the individual cruisers can be quickly got hold of when wanted. This is accomplished by requiring them to call at cable ports and report; or by circumscribing the area in which they are to cruise, so that they can be readily found; or by prescribing the course and speed they are to observe,--in short, by ensuring a pretty close knowledge of their position at every moment. For the purposes of intelligence, a cruiser with a roving commission, or one which neglects to report its movements when opportunity offers, is nearly useless; and few things are more justly exasperating than the failure of a cruiser to realize this truth in practice. Of course, no rule is hard and fast to bind the high discretion of the officer senior on the spot; but if the captains of cruisers will bear in mind, as a primary principle, that they, their admirals, and the central office, are in this respect parts of one highly specialized and most important system in which co-operation must be observed, discretion will more rarely err in these matters, where errors may be so serious. That with a central office, admirals, and captains, all seeking the same ends, matters will at times work at cross purposes, only proves the common experience that things will not always go straight here below. When Nelson was hunting for the French fleet before the battle of the Nile, his flagship was dismasted in a gale of wind off Corsica. The commander of the frigates, his lookout ships, having become separated in the gale, concluded that the Admiral would have to return to Gibraltar, and took his frigates there. "I thought he knew me better," commented Nelson. "Every moment I have to regret the frigates having left me," he wrote later; "the return to Syracuse," due to want of intelligence, "broke my heart, which on any extraordinary anxiety now shows itself." It is not possible strictly to define official discretion, nor to guard infallibly against its misuse; but, all the same, it is injurious to an officer to show that he lacks sound judgment. When the Flying Squadron sailed, there were lying in Hampton Roads three swift cruisers,--the _New Orleans_, the _St. Paul_, and the _Minneapolis_. Two auxiliary cruisers, the _Yosemite_ and the _Dixie_, were nearly but not quite ready for sea. It was for some time justly considered imperative to keep one such ship there ready for an immediate mission. The _New Orleans_ was so retained, subject to further requirements of the Department; but the _Minneapolis_ and the _St. Paul_ sailed as soon as their coaling was completed,--within twenty-four hours of the squadron. The former was to cruise between Haïti and the Caicos Bank, on the road which Cervera would probably follow if he went north of Haïti; the other was to watch between Haïti and Jamaica, where he might be encountered if he took the Windward Passage, going south of Haïti. At the time these orders were issued the indications were that the Spanish division was hanging about Martinique, hoping for permission to coal there; and as both of our cruisers were very fast vessels and directed to go at full speed, the chances were more than good that they would reach their cruising ground before Cervera could pass it. These intended movements were telegraphed to Sampson, and it was added, "Very important that your fast cruisers keep touch with the Spanish squadron." This he received May 15th. With his still imperfect information he gave no immediate orders which would lose him his hold of the _Harvard_ and the _Yale_; but shortly after midnight he learned, off Cape Haïtien, that the Spanish division was to have left Curaçao the previous evening at six o'clock--only six hours before this despatch reached him. He at once cabled the _Harvard_ and the _Yale_, to which, as being under his immediate charge, the Department had given no orders, to go to sea, the former to cruise in the Mona Passage, to detect the enemy if he passed through it for Puerto Rico, the _Yale_ to assist the _St. Paul_ at the station of which he had been notified from Washington. The Department was informed by him of these dispositions. Sampson at the same time cabled Remey at Key West to warn the blockaders off Cienfuegos--none of which were armored--of the possible appearance of the enemy at that port. In this step he had been anticipated by the Department, which, feeling the urgency of the case and uncertain of communicating betimes through him, had issued an order direct to Remey, thirty-six hours before, that those ships, with a single exception, should be withdrawn; and that the vessels on the north coast should be notified, but not removed. These various movements indicate the usefulness and the employments of the cruiser class, one of which also carried the news to Cienfuegos, another along the north coast, while a third took Sampson's telegrams from his position at sea to the cable port. Owing to our insufficient number of vessels of the kind required, torpedo boats, of great speed in smooth water, but of delicate machinery and liable to serious retardation in a sea-way, were much used for these missions, to the great hurt of their engines, not intended for long-continued high exertion, and to their own consequent injury for their particular duties. The _St. Paul's_ career exemplified also the changes of direction to which cruisers are liable, and the consequent necessity of keeping them well in hand both as regards position and preparation, especially of coal. Between the time the _Minneapolis_ sailed and her own departure, at 6 P.M., of May 14th, the news of the Spanish division's arrival at Curaçao was received; and as there had been previous independent information that colliers had been ordered to meet it in the Gulf of Venezuela, only a hundred miles from Curaçao, the conclusion was fair that the enemy needed coal and hoped to get it in that neighborhood. Why else, indeed, if as fast as reported, and aware, as he must be, that Sampson was as far east as San Juan, had he not pushed direct for Cuba, his probable objective? In regard to colliers being due in the Gulf of Venezuela, the reports proved incorrect; but the inference as to the need of coal was accurate, and that meant delay. The _St. Paul_ was therefore ordered to Key West, instructions being telegraphed there to coal her full immediately on arriving. She would there be as near the Windward Passage as Curaçao is, and yet able, in case of necessity, to proceed by the Yucatan Passage or in any direction that might meanwhile become expedient. It may be added that the _St. Paul_ reached Key West and was coaled ready for sea by the evening of May 18th, four days from the time she left Hampton Roads, a thousand miles distant. While on her passage, the Department had entertained the purpose of sending her to the Gulf of Venezuela and adding to her the _Harvard_ and the _Minneapolis_, the object being not only to find the enemy, if there, but that one of the three should report him, while the other two dogged his path until no doubt of his destination could remain. Their great speed, considered relatively to that which the enemy had so far shown, gave reasonable probability that thus his approach could be communicated by them, and by cables, throughout the whole field of operations, with such rapidity as to ensure cornering him at once, which was the first great essential of our campaign. A cruiser reporting at Cape Haïtien was picked up and sent to the _Minneapolis_, whose whereabouts was sufficiently known, because circumscribed, and she received her orders; but they served only to develop the weakness of that ship and of the _Columbia_, considered as cruisers. The coal left after her rapid steaming to her cruising ground did not justify the further sweep required, and her captain thought it imperative to go first to St. Thomas to recoal,--a process which involved more delay than on the surface appears. The bunkers of this ship and of her sister, the _Columbia_, are minutely subdivided,--an arrangement very suitable, even imperative, in a battleship, in order to localize strictly any injury received in battle, but inconsequent and illogical in a vessel meant primarily for speed. A moment's reflection upon the services required of cruisers will show that their efficiency does not depend merely upon rapid going through the water, but upon prompt readiness to leave port, of which promptness quick coaling is a most important factor. This is gravely retarded by bunkers much subdivided. The design of these two ships, meant for speed, involves this lack of facility for recoaling. There is, therefore, in them a grave failure in that unity of conception which should dominate all designs. The movements, actual and projected, of the cruisers at this moment have purposely been dwelt upon at some length. Such movements and the management of them play a most important part in all campaigns, and it is desirable that they should be understood, through illustration such as this; because the provision for the service should be antecedently thorough and consistent in plan and in execution, in order to efficiency. Confusion of thought, and consequent confusion of object, is fatal to any conception,--at least, to any military conception; it is absolutely opposed to concentration, for it implies duality of object. In the designing of a cruiser, as of any class of warship, the first step, before which none should be taken, is to decide the primary object to be realized,--what is this ship meant to do? To this primary requirement every other feature should be subordinated. Its primacy is not only one of time, but of importance also. The recognition, in practice, of this requisite does not abolish nor exclude the others by its predominance. It simply regulates their development; for they not only must not militate against it, they must minister to it. It is exactly as in a novel or in a work of art, for every military conception, from the design of a ship up, should be a work of art. Perfection does not exclude a multiplicity of detail, but it does demand unity of motive, a single central idea, to which all detail is strictly accessory, to emphasize or to enhance,--not to distract. The cruiser requirements offer a concrete illustration of the application of this thought. Rapidity of action is the primary object. In it is involved both coal endurance and facility for recoaling; for each economizes time, as speed does. Defensive strength--of which subdivision of coal bunkers is an element--conduces only secondarily to rapidity of movement, as does offensive power; they must, therefore, be very strictly subordinated. They must not detract from speed; yet so far as they do not injure that, they should be developed, for by the power to repel an enemy--to avert detention--they minister to rapidity. With the battleship, in this contrary to the cruiser, offensive power is the dominant feature. While, therefore, speed is desirable to it, excessive speed is not admissible, if, as the author believes, it can be obtained only at some sacrifice of offensive strength. When Admiral Sampson sent off the telegrams last mentioned, before daylight of May 16th, the flagship was off Cape Haïtien. During her stoppage for this purpose, the squadron continued to stand west, in order not to increase the loss of time due to the slowness of the monitors, through which the progress of the whole body did not exceed from seven to eight sea miles per hour. Cape Haïtien is distant from Key West nearly seven hundred miles; and throughout this distance, being almost wholly along the coast of Cuba, no close telegraphic communication could be expected. At the squadron's rate of advance it could not count upon arriving at Key West, and so regaining touch with Washington, before the morning of the 19th, and the Department was thus notified. Thirty-six hours later, at 11.30 A.M., May 17th, being then in the Old Bahama Channel, between Cuba and the Bahama Banks, the Admiral felt that his personal presence, under existing conditions, was more necessary near Havana and Key West. Leaving the division, therefore, in charge of the senior officer, Captain Evans, of the _Iowa_, he pushed forward with the flagship _New York_, the fastest of the armored vessels. Six hours later he was met by the torpedo boat _Dupont_, bringing him a telegram from the Department, dated the 16th, forwarded through Key West, directing him to send his most suitable armored ship ahead to join the Flying Squadron. This order was based on information that Cervera was bringing munitions of war essential to the defence of Havana, and that his instructions were peremptory to reach either Havana or a port connected with it by railroad. Such commands pointed evidently to Cienfuegos, which place, moreover, was clearly indicated from the beginning of the campaign, as already shown in these papers, as the station for one division of our armored fleet. The Department could calculate certainly that, by the time its message reached Sampson, his division would be so far advanced as to ensure interposing between Havana and the Spaniards, if the latter came by the Windward Passage--from the eastward. It was safe, therefore, or at least involved less risk of missing the enemy, to send the Flying Squadron to Cienfuegos, either heading him off there, or with a chance of meeting him in the Yucatan Channel, if he tried to reach Havana by going west of Cuba. But as Cienfuegos was thought the more likely destination, and was for every reason a port to be effectually blockaded, it was desirable to reinforce Schley, not by detaining him, under the pressing need of his getting to Cienfuegos, but by a battleship following him as soon as possible. Of course, such a ship might be somewhat exposed to encountering the enemy's division single-handed, which is contrary to rule. But rules are made to be broken on occasion, as well as to be observed generally; and again, and always, war cannot be made without running risks, of which the greatest is misplaced or exaggerated caution. From the moment the Spanish ships were reported at Curaçao, a close lookout had been established in the Yucatan Channel. By his personal action, in quitting his squadron in order to hasten forward, Admiral Sampson had anticipated the wishes of the Department. At 4 P.M., May 18th, he reached Key West, where he found the Flying Squadron and the _St. Paul_, anchored in the outer roads. His own telegrams, and those from the Secretary of the Navy, had ensured preparations for coaling all vessels as they arrived, to the utmost rapidity that the facilities of the port admitted. The _St. Paul_, whose orders had been again changed, sailed the same evening for Cape Haïtien. The Flying Squadron started for Cienfuegos at 9 A.M. the following day, the 19th, and was followed twenty-six hours later by the battleship _Iowa_. Shortly after the Admiral left the fleet, it had been overtaken by the torpedo boat _Porter_, from Cape Haïtien, bearing a despatch which showed the urgency of the general situation, although it in no way fettered the discretion of the officer in charge. Captain Evans, therefore, very judiciously imitated Sampson's action, quitted the fleet, and hastened with his own ship to Key West, arriving at dark of the 18th. Being a vessel of large coal endurance, she did not delay there to fill up, but she took with her the collier _Merrimac_ for the ships before Cienfuegos. The remainder of Sampson's division arrived on the 19th. The monitors _Puritan_ and _Miantonomoh_, which had not been to San Juan, sailed on the 20th for the Havana blockade, where they were joined before noon of the 21st by the _Indiana_, and the _New York_, the latter having the Admiral on board. Commodore Schley, with the Flying Squadron, arrived off Cienfuegos toward midnight of the same day. The _Iowa_, came up twelve hours later, about noon of the 22nd, and some four or five light cruisers joined on that or the following days. On the 24th the _Oregon_ communicated with Washington off Jupiter Inlet, on the east coast of Florida. Her engines being reported perfectly ready, after her long cruise, she was directed to go to Key West, where she coaled, and on the 28th left for the Havana blockade. It is difficult to exaggerate the honor which this result does to Chief Engineer Milligan and to the officers responsible under him for the condition of her machinery. The combination of skill and care thus evidenced is of the highest order. Such, in general outline, omitting details superfluous to correct comprehension, was the course of incidents on our side, in the Cuban campaign, during the ten days, May 12th-21st; from the bombardment of San Juan de Puerto Rico to the establishment of the two armored divisions in the positions which, under better conditions of national preparation, they should have occupied by the 1st of the month. All is well that ends well--so far at least as the wholly past is concerned; but for the instruction of the future it is necessary not to cast the past entirely behind our backs before its teachings have been pondered and assimilated. We cannot expect ever again to have an enemy so entirely inapt as Spain showed herself to be; yet, even so, Cervera's division reached Santiago on the 19th of May, two days before our divisions appeared in the full force they could muster before Havana and Cienfuegos. Had the Spanish Admiral been trying for one of those ports, even at the low rate of speed observed in going from Curaçao to Santiago--about seven and five-tenth knots--he could have left Curaçao on the evening of May 15th, and have reached Cienfuegos on the 21st, between midnight and daybreak, enabling him to enter the harbor by 8 A.M.--more than twelve hours before the arrival there of our Flying Squadron. The writer assumes that, had our coast defences been such as to put our minds at ease concerning the safety of our chief seaboard cities, the Flying Squadron would from the first have been off Cienfuegos. He is forced to assume so, because his own military conviction has always been that such would have been the proper course. Whatever _coup de main_ might have been possible against a harbor inadequately defended as were some of ours,--the fears of which, even, he considered exaggerated,--no serious operations against a defended seaboard were possible to any enemy after a transatlantic voyage, until recoaled. It would have been safe, militarily speaking, to place our two divisions before the ports named. It was safer to do so than to keep one at Hampton Roads; for offence is a safer course than defence. Consider the conditions. The Spaniards, after crossing the Atlantic, would have to coal. There were four principal ports at which they might do so,--Havana, Cienfuegos, Santiago, and San Juan de Puerto Rico. The first two, on the assumption, would be closed to them, unless they chose to fight a division so nearly equal to their own force that, whatever the result of the battle, the question of coaling would have possessed no further immediate interest for them. Santiago and San Juan, and any other suitable eastern port open to them--if such there was--were simply so many special instances of a particular case; and of these San Juan was the most favorable to them, because, being the most distant, it ensured more time for coaling and getting away again before our divisions could arrive. After their departure from Curaçao was known, but not their subsequent intentions, and while our divisions were proceeding to Havana and Cienfuegos, measures were under consideration at the Navy Department which would have made it even then difficult for them to escape action, if they went to San Juan for coal; but which would have raised the difficult close to the point of the impossible, had our divisions from the first been placed before Havana and Cienfuegos, which strategic conditions dictated, but fears for our own inadequately defended coast prevented. To ensure this result, the contemplated method, one simply of sustained readiness, was as follows. Adequate lookouts around Puerto Rico were to be stationed, by whom the enemy's approach would be detected and quickly cabled; and our two divisions were to be kept ready to proceed at an instant's notice, coaled to their best steaming lines, as far as this was compatible with a sufficiency of fuel to hold their ground after arriving off San Juan. Two of our fastest despatch vessels, likewise at their best steaming immersion, were to be held at Key West ready to start at once for Cienfuegos to notify the squadron there; two, in order that if one broke down on the way, one would surely arrive within twenty-four hours. Thus planned, the receipt of a cable at the Department from one of the lookouts off Puerto Rico would be like the touching of a button. The Havana division, reached within six hours, would start at once; that at Cienfuegos eighteen hours after the former. Barring accidents, we should, in five days after the enemy's arrival, have had off San Juan the conditions which it took over a week to establish at Santiago; but, allowing for accidents, there would, within five days, have been at least one division, a force sufficient to hold the enemy in check. Five days, it may be said, is not soon enough. It would have been quite soon enough in the case of Spaniards after a sea voyage of twenty-five hundred miles, in which the larger vessels had to share their coal with the torpedo destroyers. In case of a quicker enemy of more executive despatch, and granting, which will be rare, that a fleet's readiness to depart will be conditioned only by coal, and not by necessary engine repairs to some one vessel, it is to be remarked that the speed which can be, and has been, assumed for our ships in this particular case, nine knots, is far less than the most modest demands for a battleship,--such as those made even by the present writer, who is far from an advocate of extreme speed. Had not our deficiency of dry docks left our ships very foul, they could have covered the distance well within four days. Ships steady at thirteen knots would have needed little over three; and it is _sustained_ speed like this, not a spurt of eighteen knots for twelve hours, that is wanted. No one, however, need be at pains to dispute that circumstances alter cases; or that the promptness and executive ability of an enemy are very material circumstances. Similarly, although the method proposed would have had probable success at San Juan, and almost certain success at any shorter distance, it would at two thousand miles be very doubtfully expedient. Assuming, moreover, that it had been thought unadvisable to move against San Juan, because doubtful of arriving in time, what would have been the situation had Cervera reached there, our armored divisions being off Havana and Cienfuegos? He would have been watched by the four lookouts--which were ordered before Santiago immediately upon his arrival there--and by them followed when he quitted port. Four leaves a good margin for detaching successively to cable ports before giving up this following game, and by that time his intentions would be apparent. Where, indeed, should he go? Before Havana and Cienfuegos would be divisions capable of fighting him. Santiago, or any eastern port, is San Juan over again, with disadvantage of distance. Matanzas is but Havana; he would find himself anticipated there, because one of those vessels dogging his path would have hurried on to announce his approach. Were his destination, however, evidently a North Atlantic port, as some among us had fondly feared, our division before Havana would be recalled by cable, and that before Cienfuegos drawn back to Havana, leaving, of course, lookouts before the southern port. Cienfuegos is thereby uncovered, doubtless; but either the Spaniard fails to get there, not knowing our movements, or, if he rightly divines them and turns back, our coast is saved. Strategy is a game of wits, with many unknown quantities; as Napoleon and Nelson have said--and not they alone--the unforeseen and chance must always be allowed for. But, if there are in it no absolute certainties, there are practical certainties, raised by experience to maxims, reasonable observance of which gives long odds. Prominent among these certainties are the value of the offensive over the defensive, the advantage of a central position, and of interior lines. All these would have been united, strategically, by placing our armored divisions before Havana and Cienfuegos. As an offensive step, this supported, beyond any chance of defeat, the blockade of the Cuban coast, as proclaimed, with the incidental additional advantage that Key West, our base, was not only accessible to us, but defended against serious attack, by the mere situation of our Havana squadron. Central position and interior lines were maintained, for, Havana being nearly equidistant from Puerto Rico and the Chesapeake, the squadrons could be moved in the shortest time in either direction, and they covered all points of offence and defence within the limits of the theatre of war by lines shorter than those open to the enemy, which is what "interior lines" practically means. If this disposition did possess these advantages, the question naturally arises whether it was expedient for the Havana division, before Cervera's arrival was known, and with the Flying Squadron still at Hampton Roads, to move to the eastward to San Juan, as was done. The motive of this step, in which the Navy Department acquiesced, was the probability, which must be fully admitted, that San Juan was Cervera's primary destination. If it so proved, our squadron would be nearer at hand. It was likely, of course, that Cervera would first communicate with a neutral port, as he did at Martinique, to learn if the coast were clear before pushing for San Juan. The result of his going to the latter place would have been to present the strategic problem already discussed. Cervera heard that our fleet was at San Juan, went to Curaçao, and afterwards to Santiago, because, as the Spanish Minister of Marine declared in the Cortes, it was the only port to which he could go. Our Admiral's official report, summing up the conditions after the bombardment of San Juan, as they suggested themselves to his mind at the time, has been quoted in a previous section. In the present we have sought to trace as vividly as possible the hurried and various measures consequent upon Cervera's movements; to reproduce, if may be, the perplexities--the anxieties, perhaps, but certainly not the apprehensions--of the next ten days, in which, though we did not fear being beaten, we did fear being outwitted, which is to no man agreeable. If Sampson's division had been before Havana and Schley's at Hampton Roads when Cervera appeared, the latter could have entered San Juan undisturbed. What could we then have done? In virtue of our central position, three courses were open. 1. We could have sent our Havana division to San Juan, as before proposed, and the Flying Squadron direct to the same point, with the disadvantage, however, as compared with the disposition advocated last, that the distance to it from Hampton Roads is four hundred miles more than from Cienfuegos. 2. We could have moved the Havana Squadron to San Juan, sending the Flying Squadron to Key West to coal and await further orders. This is only a modification of No. 1. Or, 3, we could have ordered the Flying Squadron to Key West, and at the same moment sent the Havana division before Cienfuegos,--a simultaneous movement which would have effected a great economy of time, yet involved no risk, owing to the distance of the Spanish division from the centre of operations. Of these three measures the last would have commended itself to the writer had Cervera's appearance, reported at Martinique, left it at all doubtful whether or not he were aiming for Havana or Cienfuegos. In our estimation, that was the strategic centre, and therefore to be covered before all else. So long as Cervera's destination was unknown, and might, however improbable, be our coast, there was possible justification for keeping the Flying Squadron there; the instant he was known to be in the West Indies, to close the two Cuban ports became the prime necessity. But had he entered San Juan without previous appearance, the first or the second should have been adopted, in accordance with the sound general principle that the enemy's fleet, if it probably can be reached, is the objective paramount to all others; because the control of the sea, by reducing the enemy's navy, is the determining consideration in a naval war. Without dogmatizing, however, upon a situation which did not obtain, it appears now to the writer, not only that the eastward voyage of our Havana division was unfortunate, viewed in the light of subsequent events, but that it should have been seen beforehand to be a mistake because inconsistent with a well-founded and generally accepted principle of war, the non-observance of which was not commanded by the conditions. The principle is that which condemns "eccentric" movements. The secondary definition of this word--"odd" or "peculiar"--has so dislodged all other meanings in common speech that it seems necessary to recall that primarily, by derivation, it signifies "away from the centre," to which sense it is confined in technical military phrase. Our centre of operations had been fixed, and rightly fixed, at Havana and Cienfuegos. It was subject, properly, to change--instant change--when the enemy's fleet was known to be within striking distance; but to leave the centre otherwise, on a calculation of probabilities however plausible, was a proposition that should have been squarely confronted with the principle, which itself is only the concrete expression of many past experiences. It is far from the writer's wish to advocate slavery to rule; no bondage is more hopeless or more crushing; but when one thinks of acting contrary to the weight of experience, the reasons for such action should be most closely scrutinized, and their preponderance in the particular case determined. These remarks are offered with no view of empty criticism of a mistake--if such it were--in which the writer was not without his share. In military judgments error is not necessarily censurable. One of the greatest captains has said: "The general who has made no mistake has made few campaigns." There are mistakes and mistakes; errors of judgment, such as the most capable man makes in the course of a life, and errors of conduct which demonstrate essential unfitness for office. Of the latter class was that of Admiral Byng, when he retired from Minorca; a weakness not unparalleled in later times, but which, whatever the indulgence accorded to the offender, is a military sin that should for itself receive no condonement of judgment. As instances of the former, both Nelson and Napoleon admitted, to quote the latter's words: "I have been so often mistaken that I no longer blush for it." My wish is to illustrate, by a recent particular instance, a lesson professionally useful to the future,--the value of rules. By the disregard of rule in this case we uncovered both Havana and Cienfuegos, which it was our object to close to the enemy's division. Had the latter been more efficient, he could have reached one or the other before we regained the centre. Our movement was contrary to rule; and while the inferences upon which it was based were plausible, they were not, in the writer's judgment, adequate to constitute the exception. FOOTNOTES: [3] The distance from Hampton Roads to Key West is increased, owing to the adverse current of the Gulf Stream through much of the route. V THE GUARD SET OVER CERVERA.--INFLUENCE OF INADEQUATE NUMBERS UPON THE CONDUCT OF NAVAL AND MILITARY OPERATIONS.--CÁMARA'S RUSH THROUGH THE MEDITERRANEAN, AND CONSEQUENT MEASURES TAKEN BY THE UNITED STATES. The result of the various movements so far narrated was to leave the Flying Squadron May 22nd, off Cienfuegos, and Admiral Sampson's division off Havana, on the 21st. The latter was seriously diminished in mobile combatant force by the removal of the _Iowa_, detached to the south of the island to join the ships under Schley. It was confidently expected that there, rather than at any northern port, the enemy would make his first appearance; and for that reason the Flying Squadron was strengthened by, and that off Havana deprived of, a vessel whose qualities would tell heavily in conflict with an active antagonist, such as a body of armored cruisers ought to be. Only by great good fortune could it be expected that the monitors, upon which Sampson for the moment had largely to depend, could impose an engagement upon Cervera's division if the latter sought to enter Havana by a dash. By taking from the Admiral his most powerful vessel, he was exposed to the mortification of seeing the enemy slip by and show his heels to our sluggish, low-freeboard, turreted vessels; but the solution was the best that could be reached under the conditions. It was not till the 28th of the month that the junction of the _Oregon_ put our division before Havana on terms approaching equality as regards quickness of movement. On the 19th of May the Department received probable, but not certain, information that the enemy's division had entered Santiago. This, as is now known, had occurred on the early morning of the same day. Singularly enough, less than twenty-four hours before, on the 18th, the auxiliary steamer _St. Louis_, Captain Goodrich, lately one of the American Transatlantic liners, had been close in with the mouth of this port, which had hitherto lain outside our sphere of operations, and had made a determined and successful attempt to cut the telegraph cable leading from Santiago to Jamaica. In doing this, the _St. Louis_, which, like her sister ships (except the _St. Paul_), had not yet received an armament suitable to her size or duties, lay for three-quarters of an hour under the fire of the enemy, at a distance of little over a mile. Fortunately a six-inch rifled gun on the Socapa battery, which was then being mounted, was not ready until the following day; and the _St. Louis_ held her ground without injury until a piece had been cut out of the cable. In this work she was assisted by the tug _Wompatuck_, Lieutenant-Commander Jungen. The two vessels then moved away to Guantanamo Bay, having been off Santiago nearly forty-eight hours. It may certainly be charged as good luck to Cervera that their departure before his arrival kept our Government long in uncertainty as to the fact, which we needed to know in the most positive manner before stripping the Havana blockade in order to concentrate at Santiago. The writer remembers that the captain of the _St. Louis_, having soon afterwards to come north for coal, found it difficult to believe that he could have missed the Spanish vessels by so little; and the more so because he had spent the 19th off Guantanamo, less than fifty miles distant. By that time, however, our information, though still less than eye-witness, was so far probable as to preponderate over his doubts; but much perplexity would have been spared us had the enemy been seen by this ship, whose great speed would have brought immediate positive intelligence that all, and not only a part, had entered the port. On this point we did not obtain certainty until three weeks later. In yet another respect luck, as it is commonly called, went against us at this time. The _Wompatuck_ was sent by Captain Goodrich into the mouth of the harbor at Guantanamo to attempt to grapple the cable there. The tug and the _St. Louis_ were both forced to retire, not by the weight of fire from the coast, but by a petty Spanish gunboat, aided by "a small gun on shore." Could this fact have been communicated to Commodore Schley when he decided to return to Key West on the 26th, on account of the difficulty of coaling, he might have seen the facility with which the place could be secured and utilized for a coaling station, as it subsequently was by Admiral Sampson, and that there thus was no necessity of starting back some seven hundred miles to Key West, when he had with him four thousand tons of coal in a collier. When the lower bay was occupied, on the 8th of June, our attacking vessels were only the naval unprotected cruiser _Marblehead_ and the auxiliary cruiser _Yankee_, the former of which was with the Flying Squadron during its passage from Cienfuegos to Santiago, and throughout the subsequent proceedings up to Sampson's arrival off the latter port. No resistance to them was made by the Spanish gunboat, before which the vulnerable and inadequately armed _St. Louis_ and _Wompatuck_ had very properly retired. Although the information received of Cervera's entering Santiago was not reliable enough to justify detaching Sampson's ships from before Havana, it was probable to a degree that made it imperative to watch the port in force at once. Telegrams were immediately sent out to assemble the four auxiliary cruisers--_St. Paul_, _St. Louis_, _Harvard_, and _Yale_--and the fast naval cruiser _Minneapolis_ before the mouth of the harbor. The number of these ships shows the importance attached to the duty. It was necessary to allow largely for the chapter of accidents; for, to apply a pithy saying of the Chief of the Naval Bureau of Equipment,--"the only way to have coal enough is to have too much,"--the only way to assemble ships enough when things grow critical, is to send more than barely enough. All those that received their orders proceeded as rapidly as their conditions allowed, but the Department could not get hold of the _St. Louis_. This failure illustrates strongly the remark before made concerning the importance of knowing just where cruisers are to be found; for of all the five ships thus sought to be gathered, the _St. Louis_ was, at the moment, the most important, through her experience of the defenceless state of the harbor at Guantanamo, which she could have communicated to Schley. The latter, when he arrived off Santiago on the evening of the 26th, found the _Minneapolis_, the _St. Paul_, and the _Yale_ on the ground. The _Harvard_ had already been there, but had gone for the moment to St. Nicolas Mole, with despatches that the Commodore had sent before him from Cienfuegos. She joined the squadron again early next day, May 27th. On the morning of the 25th, the _St. Paul_ had captured the British steamer _Restormel_, with 2,400 tons of coal for the Spanish squadron. This vessel had gone first to Puerto Rico, and from there had been directed to Curaçao, where she arrived two days after Cervera had departed. When taken she reported that two other colliers were in Puerto Rico when she sailed thence. This would seem to indicate that that port, and not Santiago, had been the original destination of the enemy, for it would have been quite as easy for the colliers to go to Santiago at once; probably safer, for we were not then thinking of Santiago in comparison with San Juan. This conjecture is strengthened by the fact that there were only 2,300 tons of Cardiff coal in Santiago, a condition which shows both how little the Spanish Government expected to use the port and how serious this capture at this instant was to the enemy. The intention of Commodore Schley to return to Key West precipitated the movement of Admiral Sampson, with his two fastest ships, to Santiago; but the step would certainly have been taken as soon as the doubt whether all the Spanish division had entered was removed. The Department, under its growing conviction that the enemy was there, had already been increasingly disturbed by the delay of the Flying Squadron before Cienfuegos. This delay was due to the uncertainty of its commander as to whether or not Cervera was in the latter port; nor was there then known reason to censure the decision of the officer on the spot, whose information, dependent upon despatch vessels, or upon local scouting, was necessarily, in some respects, more meagre than that of the Department, in cable communication with many quarters. Nevertheless, he was mistaken, and each succeeding hour made the mistake more palpable and more serious to those in Washington; not, indeed, that demonstrative proof had been received there--far from it--but there was that degree of reasonable probability which justifies practical action in all life, and especially in war. There was not certainty enough to draw away our ships from before Havana,--to the exposure also of Key West,--but there was quite sufficient certainty to take the chance of leaving Cienfuegos and going off Santiago; for, to put the case at its weakest, we could not close both ports, and had, therefore, to make a choice. Against the risk of the enemy trying to dash out of Santiago and run for some other point, provision was made by a telegram to the _Yale_ to inform every vessel off Santiago that the Flying Squadron was off Cienfuegos, and that orders had been sent it to proceed with all possible despatch off Santiago. If, therefore, the enemy did run out before the arrival of Schley, our scouts would know where to look for the latter; that is, somewhere on the shortest line between the two ports. The embarrassment imposed upon the Department, under the telegram that the Flying Squadron was returning to Key West, was increased greatly by the fact that the five cruisers ordered before the port were getting very short of coal. If the squadron held its ground, this was comparatively immaterial. It would be injurious, unquestionably, to the communications and to the lookout, but not necessarily fatal to the object in view, which was that Cervera should not get out without a fight and slip away again into the unknown. But, if the squadron went, the cruisers could not stay, and the enemy might escape unobserved. Fortunately, on second thoughts, the Commodore decided to remain; but before that was known to the Department, Sampson had been directed, on May 29th, to proceed with the _New York_ and the _Oregon_, the latter of which had only joined him on the 28th. The telegram announcing that the Flying Squadron would hold on came indeed before the two ships started, but it was not thought expedient to change their orders. Word also had then been received that two of the Spanish division had been sighted inside from our own vessels, and though this still left a doubt as to the whereabouts of the others, it removed the necessity of covering Key West, which had caused the Department, on the first knowledge of Schley's returning, to limit its orders to Sampson to be ready to set out for Santiago the instant the Flying Squadron returned. By the departure of the _New York_ and the _Oregon_, the _Indiana_ was left the only battleship to the westward. Her speed was insufficient to keep up with the two others, and it was determined to employ her in convoying the army when it was ready,--a duty originally designed for Sampson's division as a whole. Admiral Sampson with his two ships arrived off Santiago on the 1st of June at 6 A.M., and established at once the close watch of the port which lasted until the sally and destruction of Cervera's squadron. "From that time on," says the Spanish Lieutenant Muller, who was in the port from the first, as second in command of the naval forces of the province, "the hostile ships, which were afterwards increased in number, established day and night a constant watch, without withdrawing at nightfall, as they used to do." Into the particulars of this watch, which lasted for a month and which effectively prevented any attempt of the enemy to go out by night, the writer does not purpose to enter, as his object in this series of papers is rather to elicit the general lessons derivable from the war than to give the details of particular operations. It is only just to say, however, that all the dispositions of the blockade,--to use the common, but not strictly accurate, expression,--from the beginning of June to the day of the battle, were prescribed by the commander-in-chief on the spot, without controlling orders, and with little, if any, suggestion on the subject from the Department. The writer remembers none; but he does well remember the interest with which, during the dark nights of the month, he watched the size of the moon, which was new on the 18th, and the anxiety each morning lest news might be received of a successful attempt to get away on the part of the enemy, whose reputed speed so far exceeded that of most of our ships. It was not then known that, by reason of the methods unremittingly enforced by our squadron, it was harder to escape from Santiago by night than by day, because of the difficulty of steering a ship through an extremely narrow channel, with the beam of an electric light shining straight in the eyes, as would there have been the case for a mile before reaching the harbor's mouth. The history of the time--now nearly a year--that has elapsed since these lines were first written, impels the author, speaking as a careful student of the naval operations that have illustrated the past two centuries and a half, to say that in his judgment no more onerous and important duty than the guard off Santiago fell upon any officer of the United States during the hostilities; and that the judgment, energy, and watchfulness with which it was fulfilled by Admiral Sampson merits the highest praise. The lack of widely diffused popular appreciation of military conditions, before referred to in these papers, has been in nothing more manifest than in the failure to recognize generally, and by suitable national reward, both the difficulty of his task, and that the dispositions maintained by him ensured the impossibility of Cervera's escaping undetected, as well as the success of the action which followed his attempt at flight. This made further fighting on Spain's part hopeless and vindicated, if vindication were needed, the Department's choice of the commander-in-chief; but, as a matter of fact, the reply of that great admiral and experienced administrator, Lord St. Vincent, when he sent Nelson to the Nile, meets decisively all such cases: "Those who are responsible for results"--as the Navy Department (under the President), was--"must be allowed the choice of their agents." The writer may perhaps be excused for adding, that, having had no share, direct or indirect, in this selection, which entirely preceded his connection with the Department, he can have no motive of self-justification regarding an appointment for which he could deserve neither credit nor blame. The office of the Navy Department at that moment, so far as Santiago itself was concerned, was chiefly administrative: to maintain the number of ships and their necessary supplies of coal, ammunition, and healthy food at the highest point consistent with the requirements of other parts of the field of war. During the month of June, being, as it was, the really decisive period of the campaign, these demands for increase of force naturally rose higher in every quarter. A numerous convoy had to be provided for the army expedition; the battle fleet had to be supplemented with several light cruisers; it became evident that the sphere of the blockade must be extended, which meant many more ships; and in the midst of all this, Cámara started for Suez. All this only instances the common saying, "It never rains but it pours." Our battle fleet before Santiago was more than powerful enough to crush the hostile squadron in a very short time, if the latter attempted a stand-up fight. The fact was so evident that it was perfectly clear nothing of the kind would be hazarded; but, nevertheless, we could not afford to diminish the number of armored vessels on this spot, now become the determining centre of the conflict. The possibility of the situation was twofold. Either the enemy might succeed in an effort at evasion, a chance which required us to maintain a distinctly superior force of battleships in order to allow the occasional absence of one or two for coaling or repairs, besides as many lighter cruisers as could be mustered for purposes of lookout, or, by merely remaining quietly at anchor, protected from attack by the lines of torpedoes, he might protract a situation which tended not only to wear out our ships, but also to keep them there into the hurricane season,--a risk which was not, perhaps, adequately realized by the people of the United States. It is desirable at this point to present certain other elements of the naval situation which weightily affected naval action at the moment, and which, also, were probably overlooked by the nation at large, for they give a concrete illustration of conditions which ought to influence our national policy, as regards the navy, in the present and immediate future. We had to economize our ships because they were too few. There was no reserve. The Navy Department had throughout, and especially at this period, to keep in mind, not merely the exigencies at Santiago, but the fact that we had not a battleship in the home ports that could in six months be made ready to replace one lost or seriously disabled, as the _Massachusetts_, for instance, not long afterwards was, by running on an obstruction in New York Bay. Surprise approaching disdain was expressed, both before and after the destruction of Cervera's squadron, that the battle fleet was not sent into Santiago either to grapple the enemy's ships there, or to support the operations of the army, in the same way, for instance, that Farragut crossed the torpedo lines at Mobile. The reply--and, in the writer's judgment, the more than adequate reason--was that the country could not at that time, under the political conditions which then obtained, afford to risk the loss or disablement of a single battleship, unless the enterprise in which it was hazarded carried a reasonable probability of equal or greater loss to the enemy, leaving us, therefore, as strong as before relatively to the naval power which in the course of events might yet be arrayed against us. If we lost ten thousand men, the country could replace them; if we lost a battleship, it could not be replaced. The issue of the war, as a whole and in every locality to which it extended, depended upon naval force, and it was imperative to achieve, not success only, but success delayed no longer than necessary. A million of the best soldiers would have been powerless in face of hostile control of the sea. Dewey had not a battleship, but there can be no doubt that that capable admiral thought he ought to have one or more; and so he ought, if we had had them to spare. The two monitors would be something, doubtless, when they arrived; but, like all their class, they lacked mobility. When Cámara started by way of Suez for the East, it was no more evident than it was before that we ought to have battleships there. That was perfectly plain from the beginning; but battleships no more than men can be in two places at once, and until Cámara's movement had passed beyond the chance of turning west, the Spanish fleet in the Peninsula had, as regarded the two fields of war, the West Indies and the Philippines, the recognized military advantage of an interior position. In accepting inferiority in the East, and concentrating our available force in the West Indies, thereby ensuring a superiority over any possible combination of Spanish vessels in the latter quarter, the Department acted rightly and in accordance with sound military precedent; but it must be remembered that the Spanish Navy was not the only possibility of the day. The writer was not in a position to know then, and does not know now, what weight the United States Government attached to the current rumors of possible political friction with other states whose people were notoriously sympathizers with our enemy. The public knows as much about that as he does; but it was clear that if a disposition to interfere did exist anywhere, it would not be lessened by a serious naval disaster to us, such as the loss of one of our few battleships would be. Just as in the maintenance of a technically "effective" blockade of the Cuban ports, so, also, in sustaining the entireness and vigor of the battle fleet, the attitude of foreign Powers as well as the strength of the immediate enemy had to be considered. For such reasons it was recommended that the orders on this point to Admiral Sampson should be peremptory; not that any doubt existed as to the discretion of that officer, who justly characterized the proposition to throw the ships upon the mine fields of Santiago as suicidal folly, but because it was felt that the burden of such a decision should be assumed by a superior authority, less liable to suffer in personal reputation from the idle imputations of over-caution, which at times were ignorantly made by some who ought to have known better, but did not. "The matter is left to your discretion," the telegram read, "except that the United States armored vessels must not be risked." When Cervera's squadron was once cornered, an intelligent opponent would, under any state of naval preparedness, have seen the advisability of forcing him out of the port by an attack in the rear, which could be made only by an army. As Nelson said on one occasion, "What is wanted now is not more ships, but troops." Under few conditions should such a situation be prolonged. But the reasons adduced in the last paragraph made it doubly incumbent upon us to bring the matter speedily to an issue, and the combined expedition from Tampa was at once ordered. Having in view the number of hostile troops in the country surrounding Santiago, as shown by the subsequent returns of prisoners, and shrewdly suspected by ourselves beforehand, it was undoubtedly desirable to employ a larger force than was sent. The criticism made upon the inadequate number of troops engaged in this really daring movement is intrinsically sound, and would be wholly accurate if directed, not against the enterprise itself, but against the national shortsightedness which gave us so trivial an army at the outbreak of the war. The really hazardous nature of the movement is shown by the fact that the column of Escario, three thousand strong, from Manzanillo, reached Santiago on July 3rd; too late, it is true, abundantly too late, to take part in the defence of San Juan and El Caney, upon holding which the city depended for food and water; yet not so late but that it gives a shivering suggestion how much more arduous would have been the task of our troops had Escario come up in time. The incident but adds another to history's long list of instances where desperate energy and economy of time have wrested safety out of the jaws of imminent disaster. The occasion was one that called upon us to take big risks; and success merely justifies doubly an attempt which, from the obvious balance of advantages and disadvantages, was antecedently justified by its necessity, and would not have been fair subject for blame, even had it failed. The Navy Department did not, however, think that even a small chance of injury should be taken which could be avoided; and it may be remarked that, while the man is unfit for command who, on emergency, is unable to run a very great risk for the sake of decisive advantage, he, on the other hand, is only less culpable who takes even a small risk of serious harm against which reasonable precaution can provide. It has been well said that Nelson took more care of his topgallant masts,[4] in ordinary cruising, than he did of his whole fleet when the enemy was to be checked or beaten; and this combination of qualities apparently opposed is found in all strong military characters to the perfection of which both are necessary. It was determined, accordingly, to collect for the transports a numerous naval guard or convoy, to secure them against possible attacks by the Spanish gunboats distributed along the north coast of Cuba, by which route the voyage was to be made. The care was probably thought excessive by many and capable men; but the unforeseen is ever happening in war. Here or there a young Spanish officer might unexpectedly prove, not merely brave, as they all are, but enterprising, which few of them seem to be. The transport fleet had no habit of manoeuvring together; the captains, many of them, were without interest in the war, and with much interest in their owners, upon whom they commonly depended for employment; straggling, and panic in case of attack, could be surely predicted; and, finally, as we scarcely had men enough for the work before them, why incur the hazard of sacrificing even one ship-load of our most efficient but all too small regular army? For such reasons it was decided to collect a dozen of the smaller cruisers, any one of which could handle a Spanish gunboat, and which, in virtue of their numbers, could be so distributed about the transports as to forestall attack at all points. The mere notoriety that so powerful a flotilla accompanied the movement was protection greater, perhaps, than the force itself; for it would impose quiescence even upon a more active enemy. As a further measure of precaution, directions were given to watch also the torpedo destroyer in San Juan during the passage of the army. The _Indiana_, as has been said, formed part of the convoy; the dispositions and order of sailing being arranged, and throughout superintended, by her commanding officer, Captain Henry C. Taylor. On Saturday, June 4th, Commodore Remey, commanding the naval base at Key West, telegraphed that the naval vessels composing the convoy would be ready to sail that evening. The army was embarked and ready to move on the 8th, but early that morning was received the report, alluded to in a previous paper, that an armored cruiser with three vessels in company had been sighted by one of our blockading fleet the evening before, in the Nicolas Channel, on the north coast of Cuba. Upon being referred back, the statement was confirmed by the officer making it, and also by another vessel which had passed over the same ground at nearly the same time. The account being thus both specific and positive, the sailing of the transports was countermanded,--the naval vessels of the convoy being sent out from Key West to scour the waters where the suspicious ships had been seen, and Admiral Sampson directed to send his two fastest armored vessels to Key West, in order that the expedition might proceed in force. The Admiral, being satisfied that the report was a mistake, of a character similar to others made to him at the same time, did not comply; a decision which, under the circumstances of his fuller knowledge, must be considered proper as well as fortunate. The incident was mortifying at the time, and--considering by how little Escario arrived late--might have been disastrous; but it is one of those in which it is difficult to assign blame, though easy to draw a very obvious moral for outlooks. The expedition finally got away from Tampa on the 14th of June, and arrived off Santiago on the 20th. The process of collecting and preparing the convoy, the voyage itself, and the delay caused by the false alarm, constituted together a period of three weeks, during which the naval vessels of the expedition were taken away from the blockade. Some days more were needed to coal them, and to get them again to their stations. Meanwhile it was becoming evident that the limits of the blockade must be extended, in order that full benefit might be derived from it as a military measure. The southern ports of Cuba west of Santiago, and especially the waters about the Isle of Pines and Batabano, which is in close rail connection with Havana, were receiving more numerous vessels, as was also the case with Sagua la Grande, on the north. In short, the demand for necessaries was producing an increasing supply, dependent upon Jamaica and Mexico in the south, upon Europe and North American ports in the north, and the whole was developing into a system which would go far to defeat our aims, unless counteracted by more widespread and closer-knit measures on our part. It was decided, therefore, to proclaim a blockade of the south coast of Cuba from Cape Cruz, a little west of Santiago, to Cape Frances, where the foul ground west of the Isle of Pines terminates. The Isle of Pines itself was to be seized, in order to establish there a secure base, for coal and against hurricanes, for the small vessels which alone could operate in the surrounding shoal water; and an expedition, composed mainly of the battalion of marines, was actually on the way for that purpose when the protocol was signed. During the three weeks occupied by the preparation and passage of the Santiago expedition, the blockade had been barely "effective," technically; it could not at all be considered satisfactory from our point of view, although we were stripping the coast defence fleet of its cruisers, one by one, for the service in Cuba. Our utmost hope at the time, and with every available vessel we could muster, was so far to satisfy the claims of technicality, as to forestall any charges of ineffectiveness by neutrals, whose cruisers at times seemed somewhat curious. In the midst of all this extra strain Cámara's squadron left Cadiz and made its hurried rush eastward. One effect of this was to release, and instantly, all the patrol vessels on our northern coast. These were immediately ordered to Key West for blockade duty, Commodore Howell also going in person to take charge of this work. On the other hand, however, uneasiness could not but be felt for Dewey in case Cámara actually went on, for, except the monitor _Monterey_, we could get no armored ship out before the two Spanish armored vessels arrived; and if they had the same speed which they maintained to Suez--ten knots--it was doubtful whether the _Monterey_ would anticipate them. It may be mentioned here, as an interesting coincidence, that the same day that word came that Cámara had started back for Spain, a telegram was also received that the _Monterey_ had had to put back to Honolulu, for repairs to the collier which accompanied her. This, of course, was news then ten days old, communication from Honolulu to San Francisco being by steamer, not by cable. The strengthening of our blockade by the vessels of the northern patrol fleet was therefore the first and, as it proved, the only lasting result of Cámara's move. What the object was of that singular "vagabondaggio," as it is not inaptly called by an Italian critic, is to the author incomprehensible, to use also the qualifying word of the same foreign writer. That the intention was merely to provoke us to some "eccentric" movement, by playing upon our fears about our forces at Manila, would be perfectly reconcilable with going as far as Port Said, and remaining there for some days, as was done, in difficulty, actual or feigned, about getting coal; but why the large expense was incurred of passing through the canal, merely to double the amount by returning, is beyond understanding. It may have been simply to carry bluff to the extreme point; but it is difficult not to suspect some motive not yet revealed, and perhaps never to be known. Possibly, however, the measures taken by ourselves may have had upon the Spanish Government the effect which, in part, they were intended to produce. A squadron of two battleships and four cruisers, drawn from Admiral Sampson's fleet, was constituted to go to Manila by way of Suez, under the command of Commodore Watson, until then in charge of the blockade on the north coast of Cuba. Colliers to accompany these were at the same time prepared in our Atlantic ports. Upon the representations of the Admiral, he was authorized to suspend the sailing of the detachment until all the armored vessels were fully coaled, in order to ensure maintaining before Santiago for a considerable period the five that would be left to him. To this modification of the first order contributed also the darkness of the nights at that moment; for the moon, though growing, was still young. But, as our object was even more to prevent Cámara from proceeding than to send the reinforcement, it was desired that these dispositions should have full publicity, and, to ensure it the more fully, Watson was directed to go in all haste to Santiago with his flagship, the _Newark_, to take over his new command, the avowed objective of which was the Spanish coast, then deprived of much of its defence by the departure of Cámara's ships, and most imperfectly provided with local fortifications. Had Cámara gone on to the East, Watson would have followed him, and, although arriving later, there was no insuperable difficulty to so combining the movements of our two divisions--Dewey's and Watson's--as to decide the final result, and to leave Spain without her second division of ships. Cámara's delay at the Mediterranean end of the Canal, which extended over several days, suggested either doubts as to the reality of his rumored destination, or a belief that the equipment and preparation--in coal especially--for so distant an expedition had been imperfect. This contributed to postpone Watson's departure, and the first passage of the Canal (July 2nd) by the Spaniards coincided in date very closely with the destruction of their other division under Cervera. After the action off Santiago the battleships needed to be again supplied with ammunition, and before that could be effected Cámara was on his way back to Spain. This abandonment by the enemy of their projected voyage to Manila concurred with the critical position of the army before Santiago to postpone the project of reinforcing Dewey, who no longer needed battleships so far as his immediate operations were concerned. Besides, the arrival of both the _Monterey_ and the _Monadnock_ was now assured, even if the enemy resumed his movement, which was scarcely possible. When Santiago fell, however, it was felt to be necessary to re-establish our fleet in the Pacific, by way either of the Straits of Magellan or of the Suez Canal. The latter was chosen, and the entire battle fleet--except the _Texas_, rejected on account of her small coal endurance--was directed to join the movement and to accompany some distance within the straits the two battleships which, with their smaller cruisers and colliers, were to go to Manila. The preparations for this movement were kept secret for quite a time, under the cover of an avowed intention to proceed against Puerto Rico; but nothing, apparently, can wholly escape the prying curiosity of the Press, which dignifies this not always reputable quality with the title of "enterprise." No great harm resulted; possibly even the evident wish of the Government for secrecy, though thus betrayed, may have increased the apprehension of the enemy as to the damage intended to their coasts. On the latter point the position of our Government, as understood by the writer, was perfectly simple. In case the enemy refused peace when resistance was obviously and utterly hopeless, bombardment of a seaport might be resorted to, but with the utmost reluctance, and merely to compel submission and acquiescence in demonstrated facts. It is not possible to allow one's own people to be killed and their substance wasted merely because an adversary will not admit he is whipped, when he is. When our fleet reached the Spanish coast that case might have arisen; but probably the unwillingness of our Government so to act would have postponed its decision to the very last moment, in order to spare the enemy the final humiliation of yielding, not to reasonable acceptance of facts, but to direct threat of violence. The purpose of bombardment, so freely asserted by the Press, was one of the numerous baseless discoveries with which it enlightened its reader during the hostilities,--mixtures of truth and error, so ingeniously proportioned as to constitute an antidote, than which none better could then be had against its numerous indiscretions. The determining factor in this proposed movement of the battle fleet as a whole was the necessity, or at least the advantage, of reinforcing Dewey, and of placing two battleships in the Pacific. It was not thought expedient now to send them by themselves, as at first proposed, for the reason already given in another instance in this paper; that is, the impropriety of taking even a small risk, if unnecessary. Cámara's two ships had now returned to Spain, and there were besides in the ports of the Peninsula other armed vessels, which, though evidently unfit for a distant voyage, might be good for some work in the Straits of Gibraltar, where our two ships must pass. That the latter would beat them all, if assembled, we quite believed, as we had hoped that the _Oregon_ might do had she met Cervera; but the _Oregon_ could not be helped without neglecting more immediately pressing duties, whereas, at the end of July, there was nothing to detain our heavy ships in the West Indies. It was determined, therefore, to keep them massed and to send them across the ocean. It was probable, nearly to the extent of absolute certainty, that neither before nor after the separation of the division bound for the East would the entire Spanish Navy venture an attack upon the formidable force thus confronting its ports. To ensure success without fighting is always a proper object of military dispositions; and, moreover, there were reasons before alluded to for maintaining in perfect integrity vessels whose organized fighting efficiency had now been fully vindicated to the world. Even during peace negotiations, one's position is not injured by the readiness of the battle fleet. In short, it should be an accepted apothegm, with those responsible for the conduct of military operations, that "War is business," to which actual fighting is incidental. As in all businesses, the true aim is the best results at the least cost; or, as the great French admiral, Tourville, said two centuries ago, "The best victories are those which expend least of blood, of hemp, and of iron." Such results, it is true, are more often granted to intelligent daring than to excessive caution; but no general rule can supersede the individual judgment upon the conditions before it. There are no specifics in warfare. To this main reason, others less immediately important concurred. The ships would be taken out of a trying climate, and removed from the chance of hurricanes; while the crews would receive a benefit, the value of which is avouched by naval history, in change of scene, of occupation, and of interests. The possibility of the enemy attempting to divert us from our aim, by sending vessels to the West Indies, was considered, and, although regarded as wildly improbable, provision against it was made. As Nelson wrote to his commander-in-chief before the advance on Copenhagen: "There are those who think, if you leave the Sound open, that the Danish fleet may sail from Copenhagen to join the Dutch or French. I own I have no fears on that subject; for it is not likely that whilst their capital is menaced with an attack, nine thousand of her best men should be sent out of the kingdom." It was still less probable that Spain in the present case would attempt any diversion to the West Indies, and the movement of our heavy-armored vessels to her shores could now justly be considered to cover all our operations on this side of the Atlantic. The detailed arrangements made for frequent communication, however, would have kept the Department practically in touch with our fleet throughout, and have enabled us to counteract any despairing effort of the enemy. FOOTNOTES: [4] The lighter upper masts, upon which speed much depended in moderate weather. THE PEACE CONFERENCE AND THE MORAL ASPECT OF WAR THE PEACE CONFERENCE AND THE MORAL ASPECT OF WAR To determine the consequences of an historical episode, such as the recent Peace Conference at The Hague, is not a matter for prophecy, but for experience, which alone can decide what positive issues, for good or for ill, shall hereafter trace their source to this beginning. The most that the present can do is to take note of the point so far reached, and of apparent tendencies manifested; to seek for the latter a right direction; to guide, where it can, currents of general thought, the outcome of which will be beneficial or injurious, according as their course is governed by a just appreciation of fundamental truths. The calling of the Conference of The Hague originated in an avowed desire to obtain relief from immediate economical burdens, by the adoption of some agreement to restrict the preparations for war, and the consequent expense involved in national armaments; but before its meeting the hope of disarmament had fallen into the background, the vacant place being taken by the project of abating the remoter evils of recurrent warfare, by giving a further impulse, and a more clearly defined application, to the principle of arbitration, which thenceforth assumed pre-eminence in the councils of the Conference. This may be considered the point at which we have arrived. The assembled representatives of many nations, including all the greatest upon the earth, have decided that it is to arbitration men must look for relief, rather than to partial disarmament, or even to an arrest in the progress of preparations for war. Of the beneficence of the practice of arbitration, of the wisdom of substituting it, when possible, for the appeal to arms, with all the misery therefrom resulting, there can be no doubt; but it will be expected that in its application, and in its attempted development, the tendencies of the day, both good and bad, will make themselves felt. If, on the one hand, there is solid ground for rejoicing in the growing inclination to resort first to an impartial arbiter, if such can be found, when occasion for collision arises, there is, on the other hand, cause for serious reflection when this most humane impulse is seen to favor methods, which by compulsion shall vitally impair the moral freedom, and the consequent moral responsibility, which are the distinguishing glory of the rational man, and of the sovereign state. One of the most unfortunate characteristics of our present age is the disposition to impose by legislative enactment--by external compulsion, that is--restrictions of a moral character, which are either fundamentally unjust, or at least do not carry with them the moral sense of the community, as a whole. It is not religious faith alone that in the past has sought to propagate itself by force of law, which ultimately is force of physical coercion. If the religious liberty of the individual has been at last won, as we hope forever, it is sufficiently notorious that the propensity of majorities to control the freedom of minorities, in matters of disputed right and wrong, still exists, as certain and as tyrannical as ever was the will of Philip II. that there should be no heretic within his dominion. Many cannot so much as comprehend the thought of the English Bishop, that it was better to see England free than England sober. In matters internal to a state, the bare existence of a law imposes an obligation upon the individual citizen, whatever his personal conviction of its rightfulness or its wisdom. Yet is such obligation not absolute. The primary duty, attested alike by the law and the gospel, is submission. The presumption is in favor of the law; and if there lie against it just cause for accusation, on the score either of justice or of expediency, the interests of the Commonwealth and the precepts of religion alike demand that opposition shall be conducted according to the methods, and within the limits, which the law of the land itself prescribes. But it may be--it has been, and yet again may be--that the law, however regular in its enactment, and therefore unquestionable on the score of formal authority, either outrages fundamental political right, or violates the moral dictates of the individual conscience. Of the former may be cited as an instance the Stamp Act, perfectly regular as regarded statutory validity, which kindled the flame of revolution in America. Of the second, the Fugitive Slave Law, within the memory of many yet living, is a conspicuous illustration. Under such conditions, the moral right of resistance is conceded--nay, is affirmed and emphasized--by the moral consciousness of the races from which the most part of the American people have their origin, and to which, almost wholly, we owe our political and religious traditions. Such resistance may be passive, accepting meekly the penalty for disobedience, as the martyr who for conscience' sake refused the political requirement of sacrificing to the image of the Cæsar; or it may be active and violent, as when our forefathers repelled taxation without representation, or when men and women, of a generation not yet wholly passed away, refused to violate their consciences by acquiescing in the return of a slave to his bondage, resorting to evasion or to violence, according to their conditions or temperaments, but in every case deriving the sanction for their unlawful action from the mandate of their personal conscience. And let it be carefully kept in mind that it is not the absolute right or wrong of the particular act, as seen in the clearer light of a later day, that justified men, whether in the particular instances cited, or in other noteworthy incidents in the long series of steps by which the English-speaking races have ascended to their present political development. It is not the demonstrable rightfulness of a particular action, as seen in the dispassionate light of the arbiter, posterity, that has chiefly constituted the merit of the individual rebel against the law in which he beheld iniquity; the saving salt, which has preserved the healthfulness of the body politic, has been the fidelity to Conscience, to the faithful, if passionate, arbiter of the moment, whose glorious predominance in the individual or in the nation gives a better assurance of the highest life than does the clearest intellectual perception of the rightfulness, or of the expediency, of a particular course. One may now see, or think that he sees, as does the writer, with Lincoln, that if slavery is not wrong, nothing is wrong. It was not so clear half a century ago; and while no honor is too great for those early heroes, who for this sublime conviction withstood obloquy and persecution, legal and illegal, it should be never forgotten that the then slave States, in their resolute determination to maintain, by arms, if need be, and against superior force, that which they believed to be their constitutional political right, made no small contribution to the record of fidelity to conscience and to duty, which is the highest title of a nation to honor. Be it by action or be it by submission, by action positive or by action negative, whatsoever is not of faith--of conviction--is sin. The just and necessary exaltation of the law as the guarantee of true liberty, with the consequent accepted submission of the individual to it, and the recognized presumption in favor of such submission, have tended to blind us to the fact that the individual, in our highest consciousness, has never surrendered his moral freedom,--his independence of conscience. No human law overbears that supreme appeal, which carries the matter from the tribunal of man into the presence of God; nor can human law be pleaded at this bar as the excuse for a violation of conscience. It is a dangerous doctrine, doubtless, to preach that there may be a "higher law" than obedience to law; but truth is not to be rejected because dangerous, and the time is not long past when the phrase voiced a conviction, the forcible assertion of which brought slavery to an end forever. The resort to arms by a nation, when right cannot otherwise be enforced, corresponds, or should correspond, precisely to the acts of the individual man which have been cited; for the old conception of an appeal to the Almighty, resembling in principle the mediæval trial by battle, is at best but a partial view of the truth, seen from one side only. However the result may afterwards be interpreted as indicative of the justice of a cause,--an interpretation always questionable,--a state, when it goes to war, should do so not to test the rightfulness of its claims, but because, being convinced in its conscience of that rightfulness, no other means of overcoming evil remains. Nations, like men, have a conscience. Like men, too, the light of conscience is in nations often clouded, or misguided, by passion or by interest. But what of that? Does a man discard his allegiance to conscience because he knows that, itself in harmony with right, its message to him is perplexed and obscured by his own infirmities? Not so. Fidelity to conscience implies not only obedience to its dictates, but earnest heart-searching, the use of every means, to ascertain its true command; yet withal, whatever the mistrust of the message, the supremacy of the conscience is not impeached. When it is recognized that its final word is spoken, nothing remains but obedience. Even if mistaken, the moral wrong of acting against conviction works a deeper injury to the man, and to his kind, than can the merely material disasters that may follow upon obedience. Even the material evils of war are less than the moral evil of compliance with wrong. "Yes, my friend," replied to me a foreign diplomatist to whom I was saying some such things, "but remember that only a few years ago the conscience of your people was pressing you into war with Great Britain in the Venezuelan question." "Admitting," I replied, "that the first national impulse, the first movement of the conscience, if you like, was mistaken,--which is at least open to argument,--it remains that there was no war; time for deliberation was taken, and more than that can be asked of no conscience, national or personal. But, further, had the final decision of conscience been that just cause for war existed, no evil that war brings could equal the moral declension which a nation inflicts upon itself, and upon mankind, by deliberate acquiescence in wrong, which it recognizes and which it might right." Nor is this conclusion vitiated by the fact that war is made at times upon mistaken conviction. It is not the accuracy of the decision, but the faithfulness to conviction, that constitutes the moral worth of an action, national or individual. The general consciousness of this truth is witnessed by a common phrase, which excludes from suggested schemes of arbitration all questions which involve "national honor or vital interests." No one thing struck me more forcibly during the Conference at The Hague than the exception taken and expressed, although in a very few quarters, to the word "honor," in this connection. There is for this good reason; for the word, admirable in itself and if rightly understood, has lost materially in the clearness of its image and superscription, by much handling and by some misapplication. Honor does not forbid a nation to acknowledge that it is wrong, or to recede from a step which it has taken through wrong motives or mistaken reasons; yet it has at times been so thought, to the grievous injury of the conception of honor. It is not honor, necessarily, but sound policy, which prescribes that peace with a semi-civilized foe should not be made after a defeat; but, however justifiable the policy, the word "honor" is defaced by thus misapplying it. The varying fortunes, the ups and downs of the idea of arbitration at the Conference of The Hague, as far as my intelligence could follow them, produced in me two principal conclusions, which so far confirmed my previous points of view that I think I may now fairly claim for them that they have ripened into _opinions_, between which word, and the cruder, looser views received passively as _impressions_, I have been ever careful to mark a distinction. In the first place, compulsory arbitration stands at present no chance of general acceptance. There is but one way as yet in which arbitration can be compulsory; for the dream of some advanced thinkers, of an International Army, charged with imposing the decrees of an International Tribunal upon a recalcitrant state, may be dismissed as being outside of practical international politics, until at least the nations are ready for the intermediate step of moral compulsion, imposed by a self-assumed obligation--by a promise. Compulsory arbitration as yet means only the moral compulsion of a pledge, taken beforehand, and more or less comprehensive, to submit to arbitration questions which rest still in the unknown future; the very terms of which therefore cannot be foreseen. Although there is a certain active current of agitation in favor of such stipulations, there is no general disposition of governments to accede, except under very narrow and precise limitations, and in questions of less than secondary importance. Secondly, there appears to be, on the other hand, a much greater disposition than formerly to entertain favorably the idea of arbitration, as a means to be in all cases considered, and where possible to be adopted, in order to solve peaceably difficulties which threaten peace. In short, the consciences of the nations are awake to the wickedness of unnecessary war, and are disposed, as a general rule, to seek first, and where admissible, the counterpoise of an impartial judge, where such can be found, to correct the bias of national self-will; but there is an absolute indisposition, an instinctive revolt, against signing away, beforehand, the national conscience, by a promise that any other arbiter than itself shall be accepted in questions of the future, the import of which cannot yet be discerned. Of this feeling the vague and somewhat clumsy phrase, "national honor and vital interests," has in the past been the expression; for its very indeterminateness reserved to conscience in every case the decision,--"May another judge for me here, or must I be bound by my own sense of right?" Under these circumstances, and having reached so momentous a stage in progress as is indicated by the very calling together of a world conference for the better assuring of peace, may it not be well for us to pause a moment and take full account of the idea, Arbitration, on the right hand and on the left? Noble and beneficent in its true outlines, it too may share, may even now be sharing, the liability of the loftiest conceptions to degenerate into catchwords, or into cant. "Liberty, what crimes have been wrought in thy name!" and does not religion share the same reproach, and conscience also? Yet will we not away with any of the three. The conviction of a nation is the conviction of the mass of the individuals thereof, and each individual has therefore a personal responsibility for the opinion he holds on a question of great national, or international, moment. Let us look, each of us,--and especially each of us who fears God,--into his own inner heart, and ask himself how far, in his personal life, he is prepared to accept arbitration. Is it not so that the reply must be, "In doubtful questions of moment, wherever I possibly can, knowing my necessary, inevitable proneness to one-sided views, I will seek an impartial adviser, that my bias may be corrected; but when that has been done, when I have sought what aid I can, if conscience still commands, it I must obey. From that duty, burdensome though it may be, no man can relieve me. Conscience, diligently consulted, is to the man the voice of God; between God and the man no other arbiter comes." And if this be so, a pledge beforehand is impossible. I cannot bind myself for a future of which I as yet know nothing, to abide by the decision of any other judge than my own conscience. Much humor--less wit--has been expended upon the Emperor of Germany's supposed carefulness to reject arbitration because an infringement of his divine rights; a phrase which may well be no more than a blunt expression of the sense that no third party can relieve a man from the obligations of the position to which he is called by God, and that for the duties of that position the man can confidently expect divine guidance and help. Be that as it may, the divine right of conscience will, among Americans, receive rare challenge. It has been urged, however, that a higher organization of the nations, the provision of a supreme tribunal issuing and enforcing judgments, settling thereby quarrels and disputed rights, would produce for the nations of the earth a condition analogous to that of the individual citizen of the state, who no longer defends his own cause, nor is bound in conscience to maintain his own sense of right, when the law decides against him. The conception is not novel, not even modern; something much like it was put forth centuries ago by the Papacy concerning its own functions. It contains two fallacies. First, the submission of the individual citizen is to force, to the constitution of which he personally contributes little, save his individual and general assent. To an unjust law he submits under protest, doubtless often silent; but he submits, not because he consents to the wrong, whether to himself personally or to others, but because he cannot help it. This will perhaps be denied, with the assertion that willing, intelligent submission to law, even when unjust, is yielded by most for the general good. One has, however, only to consider the disposition of the average man to evade payment of taxes, to recognize how far force daily enters into the maintenance and execution of law. Nations, on the contrary, since no force exists, or without their volition can exist, to compel them to accept the institution of an authority superior to their own conscience, yield a willing acquiescence to wrong, when they so yield in obedience to an external authority imposed by themselves. The matter is not helped by the fact of a previous promise to accept such decisions. The wrong-doing of an individual, in consequence of an antecedent promise, does not relieve the conscience thus rashly fettered. The ancient warning still stands, "Suffer not thy mouth to cause thy flesh to sin." For the individual or the nation, arbitration is not possible where the decision may violate conscience; it therefore can be accepted only when it is known that interest merely, not duty, will be affected by the judgment, and such knowledge cannot exist antecedent to the difficulty arising. There is a further--a second--fallacy in the supposed analogy between the submission of individuals to law, and the advocated submission of states to a central tribunal. The law of the state, overwhelming as is its power relatively to that of the individual citizen, can neither bind nor loose in matters pertaining to the conscience. Still less can any tribunal, however solemnly constituted, liberate a state from its obligation to do right; still less, I say, because the state retains, what the individual has in great part lost, the power to maintain what it believes to be right. Many considerations may make it more right--I do not say _more expedient_--for a man or for a nation, to submit to, or to acquiesce in, wrong than to resist; but in such cases it is conscience still that decides where the balance of justice turns distinctly to the side of wrong. It is, I presume, universally admitted, that occasions may arise where conscience not only justifies, but compels, resistance to law; whether it be the Christian citizen refusing to sacrifice, or the free citizen to subject himself to unconstitutional taxation, or to become the instrument of returning the slave to his master. So also for the Christian state. Existing wrong may have to be allowed, lest a greater wrong be done. Conscience only can decide; and for that very reason conscience must be kept free, that it may decide according to its sense of right, when the case is presented. There is, therefore, the very serious consideration attendant upon what is loosely styled "compulsory" arbitration,--arbitration stipulated, that is, in advance of a question originating, or of its conditions being appreciated,--that a state may thereby do that which a citizen as towards the state does not do; namely, may voluntarily assume a moral obligation to do, or to allow, wrong. And it must be remembered, also, that many of the difficulties which arise among states involve considerations distinctly beyond and higher than law as international law now exists; whereas the advocated Permanent Tribunal, to which the ultra-organizers look, to take cognizance of all cases, must perforce be governed by law as it exists. It is not, in fact, to be supposed that nations will submit themselves to a tribunal, the general principles of which have not been crystallized into a code of some sort. A concrete instance, however, is always more comprehensible and instructive than a general discussion. Let us therefore take the incidents and conditions which preceded our recent war with Spain. The facts, as seen by us, may, I apprehend, be fairly stated as follows: In the island of Cuba, a powerful military force,--government it scarcely could be called,--foreign to the island, was holding a small portion of it in enforced subjection, and was endeavoring, unsuccessfully, to reduce the remainder. In pursuance of this attempt, measures were adopted that inflicted immense misery and death upon great numbers of the population. Such suffering is indeed attendant upon war; but it may be stated as a fundamental principle of civilized warfare that useless suffering is condemned, and it had become apparent to military eyes that Spain could not subdue the island, nor restore orderly conditions. The suffering was terrible, and was unavailing. Under such circumstances, does any moral obligation lie upon a powerful neighboring state? Or, more exactly, if there is borne in upon the moral consciousness of a mighty people that such an afflicted community as that of Cuba at their doors is like Lazarus at the gate of the rich man, and that the duty of stopping the evil rests upon them, what is to be done with such a case of conscience? Could the decision of another, whether nation or court, excuse our nation from the ultimate responsibility of its own decision? But, granting that it might have proved expedient to call in other judges, when we had full knowledge of the circumstances, what would have been our dilemma if, conscience commanding one course, we had found ourselves antecedently bound to abide by the conclusions of another arbiter? For let us not deceive ourselves. Absolutely justifiable, nay, imperative, as most of us believe our action to have been, when tried at the bar of conscience, no arbitral court, acceptable to the two nations, would have decided as our own conscience did. A European diplomatist of distinguished reputation, of a small nation likeliest to be unbiassed, so said to me personally, and it is known that more than one of our own ablest international lawyers held that we were acting in defiance of international law as it now exists; just as the men who resisted the Fugitive Slave Law acted in defiance of the statute law of the land. Decision must have gone against us, so these men think, on the legal merits of the case. Of the moral question the arbiter could take no account; it is not there, indeed, that moral questions must find their solution, but in the court of conscience. Referred to arbitration, doubtless the Spanish flag would still fly over Cuba. There is unquestionably a higher law than Law, concerning obedience to which no other than the man himself, or the state, can give account to Him that shall judge. The freedom of the conscience may be fettered or signed away by him who owes to it allegiance, yet its supremacy, though thus disavowed, cannot be overthrown. The Conference at The Hague has facilitated future recourse to arbitration, by providing means through which, a case arising, a court is more easily constituted, and rules governing its procedure are ready to hand; but it has refrained from any engagements binding states to have recourse to the tribunal thus created. The responsibility of the state to its own conscience remains unimpeached and independent. The progress thus made and thus limited is to a halting place, at which, whether well chosen or not, the nations must perforce stop for a time; and it will be wise to employ that time in considering the bearings, alike of that which has been done, and of that which has been left undone. Our own country has a special need thus carefully to consider the possible consequences of arbitration, understood in the sense of an antecedent pledge to resort to it; unless under limitations very carefully hedged. There is an undoubted popular tendency in direction of such arbitration, which would be "compulsory" in the highest moral sense,--the compulsion of a promise. The world at large, and we especially, stand at the opening of a new era, concerning whose problems little can be foreseen. Among the peoples, there is manifested intense interest in the maturing of our national convictions, as being, through Asia, new-comers into active international life, concerning whose course it is impossible to predict; and in many quarters, probably in all except Great Britain, the attitude toward us is watchful rather than sympathetic. The experience of Crete and of Armenia does not suggest beneficent results from the arbitration of many counsellors; especially if contrasted with the more favorable issue when Russia, in 1877, acting on her own single initiative, forced by the conscience of her people, herself alone struck the fetters from Bulgaria; or when we ourselves last year, rejecting intermediation, loosed the bonds from Cuba, and lifted the yoke from the neck of the oppressed. It was inevitable that thoughts like these should recur frequently to one of the writer's habit of thought, when in constant touch with the atmosphere that hung around the Conference, although the latter was by it but little affected. The poet's words, "The Parliament of man, the federation of the world," were much in men's mouths this past summer. There is no denying the beauty of the ideal, but there was apparent also a disposition, in contemplating it, to contemn the slow processes of evolution by which Nature commonly attains her ends, and to impose at once, by convention, the methods that commended themselves to the sanguine. Fruit is not best ripened by premature plucking, nor can the goal be reached by such short cuts. Step by step, in the past, man has ascended by means of the sword, and his more recent gains, as well as present conditions, show that the time has not yet come to kick down the ladder which has so far served him. Three hundred years ago, the people of the land in which the Conference was assembled wrenched with the sword civil and religious peace and national independence from the tyranny of Spain. Then began the disintegration of her empire, and the deliverance of peoples from her oppression, but this was completed only last year, and then again by the sword--of the United States. In the centuries which have since intervened, what has not "justice, with valor armed," when confronted by evil in high places, found itself compelled to effect by resort to the sword? To it was due the birth of our own nation, not least among the benefits of which was the stern experience that has made Great Britain no longer the mistress, but the mother, of her dependencies. The control, to good from evil, of the devastating fire of the French Revolution and of Napoleon was due to the sword. The long line of illustrious names and deeds, of those who bore it not in vain, has in our times culminated--if indeed the end is even yet nearly reached--in the new birth of the United States by the extirpation of human slavery, and in the downfall, but yesterday, of a colonial empire identified with tyranny. What the sword, and it supremely, tempered only by the stern demands of justice and of conscience, and the loving voice of charity, has done for India and for Egypt, is a tale at once too long and too well known for repetition here. Peace, indeed, is not adequate to all progress; there are resistances that can be overcome only by explosion. What means less violent than war would in a half-year have solved the Caribbean problem, shattered national ideas deep rooted in the prepossessions of a century, and planted the United States in Asia, face to face with the great world problem of the immediate future? What but war rent the veil which prevented the English-speaking communities from seeing eye to eye, and revealed to each the face of a brother? Little wonder that a war which, with comparatively little bloodshed, brought such consequences, was followed by the call for a Peace Conference! Power, force, is a faculty of national life; one of the talents committed to nations by God. Like every other endowment of a complex organization, it must be held under control of the enlightened intellect and of the upright heart; but no more than any other can it be carelessly or lightly abjured, without incurring the responsibility of one who buries in the earth that which was intrusted to him for use. And this obligation to maintain right, by force if need be, while common to all states, rests peculiarly upon the greater, in proportion to their means. Much is required of those to whom much is given. So viewed, the ability speedily to put forth the nation's power, by adequate organization and other necessary preparation, according to the reasonable demands of the nation's intrinsic strength and of its position in the world, is one of the clear duties involved in the Christian word "watchfulness,"--readiness for the call that may come, whether expectedly or not. Until it is demonstrable that no evil exists, or threatens the world, which cannot be obviated without recourse to force, the obligation to readiness must remain; and, where evil is mighty and defiant, the obligation to use force--that is, war--arises. Nor is it possible, antecedently, to bring these conditions and obligations under the letter of precise and codified law, to be administered by a tribunal; and in the spirit legalism is marked by blemishes as real as those commonly attributed to "militarism," and not more elevated. The considerations which determine good and evil, right and wrong, in crises of national life, or of the world's history, are questions of equity often too complicated for decision upon mere rules, or even principles, of law, international or other. The instances of Bulgaria, of Armenia, and of Cuba, are entirely in point, and it is most probable that the contentions about the future of China will afford further illustration. Even in matters where the interest of nations is concerned, the moral element enters; because each generation in its day is the guardian of those which shall follow it. Like all guardians, therefore, while it has the power to act according to its best judgment, it has no right, for the mere sake of peace, to permit known injustice to be done to its wards. The present strong feeling, throughout the nations of the world, in favor of arbitration, is in itself a subject for congratulation almost unalloyed. It carries indeed a promise, to the certainty of which no paper covenants can pretend; for it influences the conscience by inward conviction, not by external fetter. But it must be remembered that such sentiments, from their very universality and evident laudableness, need correctives, for they bear in themselves a great danger of excess or of precipitancy. Excess is seen in the disposition, far too prevalent, to look upon war not only as an evil, but as an evil unmixed, unnecessary, and therefore always unjustifiable; while precipitancy, to reach results considered desirable, is evidenced by the wish to _impose_ arbitration, to prevent recourse to war, by a general pledge previously made. Both frames of mind receive expression in the words of speakers, among whom a leading characteristic is lack of measuredness and of proportion. Thus an eminent citizen is reported to have said: "There is no more occasion for two nations to go to war than for two men to settle their difficulties with clubs." Singularly enough, this point of view assumes to represent peculiarly Christian teaching, willingly ignorant of the truth that Christianity, while it will not force the conscience by other than spiritual weapons, as "compulsory" arbitration might, distinctly recognizes the sword as the resister and remedier of evil in the sphere "of this world." Arbitration's great opportunity has come in the advancing moral standards of states, whereby the disposition to deliberate wrong-doing has diminished, and consequently the occasions for redressing wrong by force the less frequent to arise. In view of recent events however, and very especially of notorious, high-handed oppression, initiated since the calling of the Peace Conference, and resolutely continued during its sessions in defiance of the public opinion--the conviction--of the world at large, it is premature to assume that such occasions belong wholly to the past. Much less can it be assumed that there will be no further instances of a community believing, conscientiously and entirely, that honor and duty require of it a certain course, which another community with equal integrity may hold to be inconsistent with the rights and obligations of its own members. It is quite possible, especially to one who has recently visited Holland, to conceive that Great Britain and the Boers are alike satisfied of the substantial justice of their respective claims. It is permissible most earnestly to hope that, in disputes between sovereign states, arbitration may find a way to reconcile peace with fidelity to conscience, in the case of both; but if the conviction of conscience remains unshaken, war is better than disobedience,--better than acquiescence in recognized wrong. The great danger of undiscriminating advocacy of arbitration, which threatens even the cause it seeks to maintain, is that it may lead men to tamper with equity, to compromise with unrighteousness, soothing their conscience with the belief that war is so entirely wrong that beside it no other tolerated evil is wrong. Witness Armenia, and witness Crete. War has been avoided; but what of the national consciences that beheld such iniquity and withheld the hand? NOTE.--This paper was the means of bringing into the author's hands a letter by the late General Sherman, which forcibly illustrates how easily, in quiet moments, men forget what they have owed, and still owe, to the sword. From the coincidence of its thought with that of the article itself, permission to print it here has been asked and received. NEW YORK, February 5th, 1890. DEAR GENERAL MEIGS,--I attended the Centennial Ceremonies in honor of the Supreme Court yesterday, four full hours in the morning at the Metropolitan Opera House, and about the same measure of time at the Grand Banquet of 850 lawyers in the evening at the Lenox Lyceum. The whole was superb in all its proportions, but it was no place for a soldier. I was bidden to the feast solely and exclusively because in 1858 for a few short months I was an attorney at Leavenworth, Kansas. The Bar Association of the United States has manifestly cast aside the Sword of Liberty. Justice and Law have ignored the significance of the Great Seal of the United States, with its emblematic olive branch and thirteen arrows, "all proper," and now claim that, without force, Law and moral suasion have carried us through one hundred years of history. Of course, in your study you will read at leisure these speeches, and if in them you discover any sense of obligation to the Soldier element, you will be luckier than I, a listener. From 1861 to 1865 the Supreme Court was absolutely paralyzed; their decrees and writs were treated with contempt south of the Potomac and Ohio; they could not summon a witness or send a Deputy Marshal. War, and the armed Power of the Nation, alone removed the barrier and restored to the U.S. courts their lawful jurisdiction. Yet, from these honied words of flattery, a stranger would have inferred that at last the lawyers of America had discovered the sovereign panacea of a Government without force, either visible or in reserve. I was in hopes the Civil War had dispelled this dangerous illusion, but it seems not. You and I can fold our hands and truly say we have done a man's share, and leave the consequences to younger men who must buffet with the next storms; but a Government which ignores the great truths illuminated in heraldic language over its very Capitol is not yet at the end of its woes. With profound respect, W.T. SHERMAN. THE RELATIONS OF THE UNITED STATES TO THEIR NEW DEPENDENCIES THE RELATIONS OF THE UNITED STATES TO THEIR NEW DEPENDENCIES In modern times there have been two principal colonizing nations, which not merely have occupied and administered a great transmarine domain, but have impressed upon it their own identity--the totality of their political and racial characteristics--to a degree that is likely to affect permanently the history of the world at large. These two nations, it is needless to say, are Great Britain and Spain. Russia, their one competitor, differs from them in that her sustained advance over alien regions is as wholly by land as theirs has been by sea. France and Holland have occupied and administered, and continue to occupy and administer, large extents of territory; but it is scarcely necessary to argue that in neither case has the race possessed the land, nor have the national characteristics been transmitted to the dwellers therein as a whole. They have realized, rather, the idea recently formulated by Mr. Benjamin Kidd for the development of tropical regions,--administration from without. The unexpected appearance of the United States as in legal control of transmarine territory, which as yet they have not had opportunity either to occupy or to administer, coincides in time with the final downfall of Spain's colonial empire, and with a stage in the upward progress of that of Great Britain, so marked, in the contrast it presents to the ruin of Spain, as to compel attention and comparison, with an ultimate purpose to draw therefrom instruction for the United States in the new career forced upon them. The larger colonies of Great Britain are not indeed reaching their majority, for that they did long ago; but the idea formulated in the phrase "imperial federation" shows that they, and the mother country herself, have passed through and left behind the epoch when the accepted thought in both was that they should in the end separate, as sons leave the father's roof, to set up, each for himself. To that transition phase has succeeded the ideal of partnership, more complex indeed and difficult of attainment, but trebly strong if realized. The terms of partnership, the share of each member in the burdens and in the profits, present difficulties which will delay, and may prevent, the consummation; time alone can show. The noticeable factor in this change of mind, however, is the affectionate desire manifested by both parent and children to ensure the desired end. Between nations long alien we have high warrant for saying that interest alone determines action; but between communities of the same blood, and when the ties of dependence on the one part are still recent, sentiments--love and mutual pride--are powerful, provided there be good cause for them. And good cause there is. Since she lost what is now the United States, Great Britain has become benevolent and beneficent to her colonies. It is not in colonies only, however, that Great Britain has been beneficent to weaker communities; nor are benevolence and beneficence the only qualities she has shown. She has been strong also,--strong in her own interior life, whence all true strength issues; strong in the quality of the men she has sent forth to colonize and to administer; strong to protect by the arm of her power, by land, and, above all, by sea. The advantage of the latter safeguard is common to all her dependencies; but it is among subject and alien races, and not in colonies properly so called, that her terrestrial energy chiefly manifests itself, to control, to protect, and to elevate. Of these functions, admirably discharged in the main, India and Egypt are the conspicuous illustrations. In them she administers from without, and cannot be said to colonize, for the land was already full. Conspicuous result constitutes example: for imitation, if honorable; for warning, if shameful. Experience is the great teacher, and is at its best when personal; but in the opening of a career such experience is wanting to the individual, and must be sought in the record of other lives, or of other nations. The United States are just about to enter on a task of government--of administration--over regions which, in inhabitants, in climate, and in political tradition, differ essentially from themselves. What are the conditions of success? We have the two great examples. Great Britain has been, in the main, and increasingly, beneficent and strong. Spain, from the very first, as the records show, was inhumanly oppressive to the inferior races; and, after her own descendants in the colonies became aliens in habit to the home country, she to them also became tyrannically exacting. But, still more, Spain became weaker and weaker as the years passed, the tyranny of her extortions being partially due to exigencies of her political weakness and to her economical declension. Let us, however, not fail to observe that the beneficence, as well as the strength, of Great Britain has been a matter of growth. She was not always what she now is to the alien subject. There is, therefore, no reason to despair, as some do, that the United States, who share her traditions, can attain her success. The task is novel to us; we may make blunders; but, guided by her experience, we should reach the goal more quickly. And it is to our interest to do so. Enlightened self-interest demands of us to recognize not merely, and in general, the imminence of the great question of the farther East, which is rising so rapidly before us, but also, specifically, the importance to us of a strong and beneficent occupation of adjacent territory. In the domain of color, black and white are contradictory; but it is not so with self-interest and beneficence in the realm of ideas. This paradox is now too generally accepted for insistence, although in the practical life of states the proper order of the two is too often inverted. But, where the relations are those of trustee to ward, as are those of any state which rules over a weaker community not admitted to the full privileges of home citizenship, the first test to which measures must be brought is the good of the ward. It is the first interest of the guardian, for it concerns his honor. Whatever the part of the United States in the growing conflict of European interests around China and the East, we deal there with equals, and may battle like men; but our new possessions, with their yet minor races, are the objects only of solicitude. Ideas underlie action. If the paramount idea of beneficence becomes a national conviction, we may stumble and err, we may at times sin, or be betrayed by unworthy representatives; but we shall advance unfailingly. I have been asked to contribute to the discussion of this matter something from my own usual point of view; which is, of course, the bearing of sea power upon the security and the progress of nations. Well, one great element of sea power, which, it will be remembered, is commercial before it is military, is that there be territorial bases of action in the regions important to its commerce. That is self-interest. But the history of Spain's decline, and the history of Great Britain's advance,--in the latter of which the stern lesson given by the revolt of the United States is certainly a conspicuous factor, as also, perhaps, the other revolt known as the Indian Mutiny, in 1857,--alike teach us that territories beyond the sea can be securely held only when the advantage and interests of the inhabitants are the primary object of the administration. The inhabitants may not return love for their benefits,--comprehension or gratitude may fail them; but the sense of duty achieved, and the security of the tenure, are the reward of the ruler. I have understood also that, through the pages of "The Engineering Magazine," I should speak to the men who stand at the head of the great mechanical industries of the country,--the great inventors and the leaders in home development,--and that they would be willing to hear me. But what can I say to them that they do not know? Their own businesses are beyond my scope and comprehension. The opportunities offered by the new acquisitions of the United States to the pursuits with which they are identified they can understand better than I. Neither is it necessary to say that adequate--nay, great--naval development is a condition of success, although such an assertion is more within my competence, as a student of navies and of history. That form of national strength which is called sea power becomes now doubly incumbent. It is needed not merely for national self-assertion, but for beneficence; to ensure to the new subjects of the nation peace and industry, uninterrupted by wars, the great protection against which is preparation--to use that one counsel of Washington's which the anti-imperialist considers to be out of date. I have, therefore, but one thing which I have not already often said to offer to such men, who affect these great issues through their own aptitudes and through their far-reaching influence upon public opinion, which they touch through many channels. Sea power, as a national interest, commercial and military, rests not upon fleets only, but also upon local territorial bases in distant commercial regions. It rests upon them most securely when they are extensive, and when they have a numerous population bound to the sovereign country by those ties of interest which rest upon the beneficence of the ruler; of which beneficence power to protect is not the least factor. Mere just dealing and protection, however, do not exhaust the demands of beneficence towards alien subjects, still in race-childhood. The firm but judicious remedying of evils, the opportunities for fuller and happier lives, which local industries and local development afford, these also are a part of the duty of the sovereign power. Above all, there must be constant recognition that self-interest and beneficence alike demand that the local welfare be first taken into account. It is possible, of course, that it may at times have to yield to the necessities of the whole body; but it should be first considered. The task is great; who is sufficient for it? The writer believes firmly in the ultimate power of ideas. Napoleon is reported to have said: "Imagination rules the world." If this be generally so, how much more the true imaginations which are worthy to be called ideas! There is a nobility in man which welcomes the appeal to beneficence. May it find its way quickly now to the heads and hearts of the American people, before less worthy ambitions fill them; and, above all, to the kings of men, in thought and in action, under whose leadership our land makes its giant strides. There is in this no Quixotism. Materially, the interest of the nation is one with its beneficence; but if the ideas get inverted, and the nation sees in its new responsibilities, first of all, markets and profits, with incidental resultant benefit to the natives, it will go wrong. Through such mistakes Great Britain passed. She lost the United States; she suffered bitter anguish in India; but India and Egypt testify to-day to the nobility of her repentance. Spain repented not. The examples are before us. Which shall we follow? And is there not a stimulus to our imagination, and to high ambition, to read, as we easily may, how the oppressed have been freed, and the degraded lifted, in India and in Egypt, not only by political sagacity and courage, but by administrative capacity directing the great engineering enterprises, which change the face of a land and increase a hundredfold the opportunities for life and happiness? The profession of the writer, and the subject consequently of most of his writing, stands for organized force, which, if duly developed, is the concrete expression of the nation's strength. But while he has never concealed his opinion that the endurance of civilization, during a future far beyond our present foresight, depends ultimately upon due organization of force, he has ever held, and striven to say, that such force is but the means to an end, which end is durable peace and progress, and therefore beneficence. The triumphs and the sufferings of the past months have drawn men's eyes to the necessity for increase of force, not merely to sustain over-sea dominion, but also to ensure timely use, in action, of the latent military and naval strength which the nation possesses. The speedy and inevitable submission of Spain has demonstrated beyond contradiction the primacy of navies in determining the issue of transmarine wars; for after Cavité and Santiago had crippled hopelessly the enemy's navy, the end could not be averted, though it might have been postponed. On the other hand, the numerical inadequacy of the troops sent to Santiago, and their apparently inadequate equipment, have shown the necessity for greater and more skilfully organized land forces. The deficiency of the United States in this respect would have permitted a prolonged resistance by the enemy's army in Cuba,--a course which, though sure ultimately to fail, appealed strongly to military punctilio. These lessons are so obvious that it is not supposable that the national intelligence, which has determined the American demand for the Philippines, can overlook them; certainly not readers of the character of those to whom this paper is primarily addressed. But when all this has been admitted and provided for, it still remains that force is but the minister, under whose guardianship industry does its work and enjoys peaceably the fruits of its labor. To the mechanical industries of the country, in their multifold forms, our new responsibilities propound the questions, not merely of naval and military protection, but of material development, which, first beneficent to the inhabitants and to the land, gives also, and thereby, those firm foundations of a numerous and contented population, and of ample local resources, upon which alone military power can securely rest. DISTINGUISHING QUALITIES OF SHIPS OF WAR DISTINGUISHING QUALITIES OF SHIPS OF WAR From the descriptions of warships usually published, it would naturally be inferred that the determination of their various qualities concern primarily the naval architect and the marine engineer. This is an error. Warships exist for war. Their powers, being for the operations of war, are military necessities, the appreciation of which, and the consequent qualities demanded, are military questions. Only when these have been decided, upon military reasons, begins the office of the technologist; namely, to produce the qualities prescribed by the sea officer. An eminent British naval architect used to say, "I hold that it is the part of the naval officers to tell us just what qualities--speed, gun-power, armor, coal endurance, etc.--are required in a ship to be built, and then leave it to us to produce the ship." These words distinguish accurately and summarily the functions of the military and the technical experts in the development of navies. It is from the military standpoint, solely, that this article is written. The military function of a navy is to control the sea, so far as the sea contributes to the maintenance of the war. The sea is the theatre of naval war; it is the field in which the naval campaign is waged; and, like other fields of military operations, it does not resemble a blank sheet of paper, every point of which is equally important with every other point. Like the land, the sea, as a military field, has its important centres, and it is not controlled by spreading your force, whatever its composition, evenly over an entire field of operations, like butter over bread, but by occupying the centres with aggregated forces--fleets or armies--ready to act in masses, in various directions from the centres. This commonplace of warfare is its first principle. It is called concentration, because the forces are not spread out, but drawn together at the centres which for the moment are most important. Concentrated forces, therefore, are those upon which warfare depends for efficient control, and for efficient energy in the operations of war. They have two chief essential characteristics: force, which is gained by concentration of numbers; and mobility, which is the ability to carry the force rapidly, as well as effectively, from the centre to any point of the outlying field where action, offensive or defensive, becomes necessary. It is essential to keep in mind both these factors, and to study them in their true mutual relations of priority, in order and in importance,--force first, mobility second; for the force does not exist for the mobility, but the mobility for the force, which it subserves. Force without mobility is useful; even though limited, as in coast fortifications; mobility without force is almost useless for the greater purposes of war. Consequently, when it is found, as is frequently the case, that one must yield somewhat, in order to the full development of the other, it is extreme mobility, extreme speed, which must give way to greater force. This caution may seem superfluous, but it is not so; for in the popular fancy, and in the appreciation of the technical expert, and to some extent also in the official mind as well,--owing to that peculiar fad of the day which lays all stress on machinery,--mobility, speed, is considered the most important characteristic in every kind of ship of war. Let the reader ask himself what is the most pronounced impression left upon his mind by newspaper accounts of a new ship. Is it not that she is expected to make so many knots? Compared with that, what does the average man know of the fighting she can do, when she has reached the end of that preposterously misleading performance called her trial trip? The error is of the nature of a half-truth, the most dangerous of errors; for it is true that, as compared with land forces, the great characteristic of navies is mobility; but it is not true that, between different classes of naval vessels, the swiftest are the most efficient for control of the sea. Force is for that the determining element. Keeping these relations of force and mobility constantly in mind, there is a further consideration, easily evident, but which needs to be distinctly stated and remembered. When a ship is once built, she cannot be divided. If you have on land concentrated ten thousand men, you can detach any fraction of them you wish for a particular purpose; you can send one man or ten, or a company, or a regiment. You can, in short, make of them any fresh combination you choose. With ships, the least you can send is one ship, and the smallest you have may be more than you wish to spare. From this (as well as for other reasons) arises a necessity for ships of different classes and sizes, which must be determined beforehand. The determination must be reached not merely by _a priori_ reasoning, as though the problem were wholly new; but regard must be had to the experience of the past,--to the teaching of history. History is experience, and as such underlies progress, just as the cognate idea, experiment, underlies scientific advance. Both history and reasoning, of the character already outlined in these papers, concur in telling us that control of the sea is exercised by vessels individually very large for their day, concentrated into bodies called fleets, stationed at such central points as the emergency demands. Our predecessors of the past two centuries called these vessels "ships of the line of battle," from which probably derives our briefer modern name "battleship," which is appropriate only if the word "battle" be confined to fleet actions. Among the naval entities, fleets are at once the most powerful and the least mobile; yet they are the only really determining elements in naval war. They are the most powerful, because in them are concentrated many ships, each of which is extremely strong for fighting. They are the least mobile, because many ships, which must keep together, can proceed only at the rate of the slowest among them. It is natural to ask why not build them all equally fast? The reply is, it is possible to do so within very narrow limits, but it is not possible to keep them so. Every deterioration, accident, or adverse incident, which affects one involves all, as regards speed, though not as regards fighting force. In our recent war, when an extensive operation was contemplated, the speed of one battleship reduced the calculated speed of the fleet by one knot,--one sea mile per hour. But, it may be urged, will not your slowest speed be much increased, if every vessel be originally faster? Doubtless; but speed means tonnage,--part of the ship's weight devoted to engines; and weight, if given to speed, is taken from other qualities; and if, to increase speed, you reduce fighting power, you increase something you cannot certainly hold, at the expense of something at once much more important and more constant--less liable to impairment. In the operation just cited the loss of speed was comparatively of little account; but the question of fighting force upon arrival was serious. An escape from this dilemma is sought by the advocates of very high speed for battleships by increasing the size of the individual ship. If this increase of size is accompanied by increase of speed, but not proportionately of fighting power, the measure, in the opinion of the writer, stands self-condemned. But, granting that force gains equally with speed, there is a further objection already mentioned. The exigencies of war demand at times division, as well as concentration; and, in fact, concentration, properly understood, does not mean keeping ships necessarily within sight of one another, but so disposed that they can unite readily at will,--a consideration which space forbids me more than to state. Now, a big ship cannot be divided into two; or, more pertinently, eight ships cannot be made into ten when you want two bodies of five each. The necessity, or supposed necessity, of maintaining the Flying Squadron at Hampton Roads during the late hostilities exactly illustrates this idea. Under all the conditions, this disposition was not wholly false to concentration, rightly considered; but had the ships been fewer and bigger, it could not have been made. The net result, therefore, of the argument, supported, as the writer believes, by the testimony of history, is: (1) that a navy which wishes to affect decisively the issues of a maritime war must be composed of heavy ships--"battleships"--possessing a maximum of fighting power, and so similar in type as to facilitate that uniformity of movement and of evolution upon which concentration, once effected, must depend for its maintenance, whether during a passage or in actual engagement; (2) that in such ships, regarded as fighting factors, which is their primary function, size is limited, as to the minimum, by the advisability of concentrating as much fighting power as possible under the hand of a single captain; but, on the other hand, size is also limited, as to its maximum, by the need of retaining ability to subdivide the whole fleet, according to particular exigencies; (3) as regards that particular form of mobility called speed, the writer regards it as distinctly secondary for the battleship; that, to say the least, the present proportions of weight assigned to fighting force should not be sacrificed to obtain increase of speed. Neither should the size of the individual ships be increased merely to obtain rates of speed higher than that already shown by some of our present battleships. Concerning that particular function of mobility which is called coal endurance,--that is, the ability to steam a certain distance without stopping to recoal,--the convenience to military operations of such a quality is evident; but it is obvious that it cannot, with the fuels now available, be possessed beyond very narrow limits. A battleship that can steam the greatest distance that separates two fortified coaling stations of her nation, with a reasonable margin above that to meet emergencies, will evidently be able to remain for a long while with the fleet, when this is concentrated to remain under reduced steam at a particular point. The recoaling of ships is a difficulty which must be met by improving the methods of that operation, not by sacrificing the military considerations which should control the size and other qualities of the vessel. It is the belief of the writer that ten thousand tons represent very nearly the minimum, and twelve thousand the maximum, of size for the battleship. Our present battleships fall within those limits, and, although less uniform in their qualities than might be desired, they give perfectly satisfactory indications that the requisite qualities can all be had without increase of size. When more is wanted--and we should always be striving for perfection--it should be sought in the improvement of processes, and not in the adding of ton to ton, like a man running up a bill. It is the difference between economy and extravagance. Into battleships such as these should go the greater proportion of the tonnage a nation gives to its navy. Ships so designed may reach the ground of action later than those which have more speed; but when they arrive, the enemy, if of weaker fighting power, must go, and what then has been the good of their speed? War is won by holding on, or driving off; not by successful running away. An important consideration in determining the necessary composition of a navy is the subdivision of fighting power into offensive and defensive. The latter is represented chiefly by armor, the former by guns; although other factors contribute to both. The relative importance of the two depends upon no mere opinion of the writer, but upon a consensus of authority practically unanimous, and which, therefore, demands no argument, but simple statement. Offensive action--not defensive--determines the issues of war. "The best defence against the enemy's fire is a rapid fire from our own guns," was a pithy phrase of our Admiral Farragut; and in no mere punning sense it may be added that it is for this reason that the rapid-fire gun of the present day made such big strides in professional favor, the instant it was brought to the test of battle. The rapid-fire gun is smaller than the great cannon mounted in the turrets; but, while the latter have their proper usefulness, the immensely larger number of projectiles fired in a given time, and valid against the target presented to them, makes the rapid-fire battery a much stronger weapon, offensively, than the slow-acting giants. Here is the great defect of the monitor, properly so-called; that is, the low-freeboard monitor. Defensively, the monitor is very strong; offensively, judged by present-day standards, it is weak, possessing the heavy cannon, but deficient in rapid fire. Consequently, its usefulness is limited chiefly to work against fortifications,--a target exceptional in resistance, and rarely a proper object for naval attack. It is the opinion of the writer that no more monitors should be built, except as accessory to the defence of those harbors where submarine mines cannot be depended upon,--as at San Francisco and Puget Sound. It should be added that the monitor at sea rolls twice as rapidly as the battleship, which injuriously affects accuracy of aim; that is, offensive power. The general principle of the decisive superiority of offensive power over defensive is applicable throughout,--to the operations of a war, to the design of a battleship, to the scheme of building a whole navy. It is to the erroneous belief in mere defence that we owe much of the faith in the monitor, and some of the insistence upon armor; while the cry that went up for local naval defence along our coast, when war threatened in the spring of 1898, showed an ignorance of the first principles of warfare, which, if not resisted, would have left us impotent even before Spain. Brief mention only can be given to the other classes of vessels needed by the navy. Concerning them, one general remark must be made. They are subsidiary to the fighting fleet, and represent rather that subdivision of a whole navy which is opposed to the idea of concentration, upon which the battleship rests. As already noted, a built ship cannot be divided; therefore, battleships must be supplemented by weaker or smaller vessels, to perform numerous detached and often petty services. From this characteristic of detachment--often singly--important engagements will rarely be fought by these smaller vessels. Therefore, in them fighting power declines in relative importance, and speed, to perform their missions, increases in proportion. As their essential use is not to remain at the centres, but to move about, they are called generically cruisers, from the French word _croiser_,--to cross. They cross back and forth, they rove the sea,--despatch boats, lookouts, scouts, or raiders. They are the cavalry of the fleet. Prominent among these in modern navies is the so-called "armored" cruiser,--a type to which belonged the four principal vessels of Cervera's squadron. The name itself is interesting, as indicating the inveterate tendency of mankind to straddle,--the reluctance to choose one of two opposite things, and frankly to give up the other. Armor, being an element of fighting power, belongs properly to the battleship rather than the cruiser; and in the latter, if the weight spent in armor detracts from speed or coal endurance, it contravenes the leading idea of a cruiser,--mobility. But, while the name is incongruous, the type has its place as an armored vessel, though not as a cruiser. In our service at least--where it is represented by the _New York_ and the _Brooklyn_--it is practically a second-class battleship, in which weight taken from fighting power is given to enginery and to speed. The advantage arising from this is purely tactical; that is, it comes into play only when in touch with the enemy. The armored cruiser belongs with the fleet, therefore her superior speed does not tell in making passages; but when fleets are in presence, or in the relative conditions of chase and pursuit, there is an advantage in being able to throw to the front, rear, or flanks, vessels which on a pinch can either fight or fly. This, be it noted in passing, is no new thing, but as old as naval history. A squadron of fast battleships of the day, thrown to the front of a fleet to harass the flanks of the enemy, is a commonplace of naval tactics, alike of galleys and sailing ships. Off Santiago, the _New York_ and _Brooklyn_ were, by Admiral Sampson, placed on the flanks of his squadron. Whichever way Cervera turned he would find a vessel of speed and fighting power equal to those of his own ships. Though unequal in fighting power to a first-class battleship, many circumstances may arise which would justify the armored cruiser in engaging one, provided her own fleet was in supporting distance. From their hybrid type, and from the exceptional circumstances under which they can be used, the tonnage put into these vessels should be but a small percentage of that given to the battle fleet, to which, and not to the cruisers, they really belong. Concerning all other cruisers, mobility, represented in speed and coal endurance, is the chief requisite. Notwithstanding occasional aberrations in the past, the development of the cruiser classes may be safely entrusted by the public to the technical experts; provided it be left to naval officers, military men, to say what qualities should predominate. Moreover, as such vessels generally act singly, it is of less importance that they vary much in type, and the need of subdivision carries with it that of numerous sizes; but battleships, including armored cruisers, are meant to work together, and insistence should be made upon homogeneousness, especially in manoeuvring qualities. To sum up: the attention of the public should be centred upon the armored fleet, to which the bulk of expenditure should be devoted; the monitor, pure and simple,--save for very exceptional uses,--should be eliminated; the development of the true cruiser,--not armored,--both in type and in numbers, does not require great interest of the public; much of the duties of this class, also, can be discharged fairly well by purchased vessels, although such will never have the proportion of fighting power which every type of ship of war should possess. As a rule, it is undesirable that a military force, land or sea, should have to retreat before one of equal size, as auxiliary cruisers often would. CURRENT FALLACIES UPON NAVAL SUBJECTS CURRENT FALLACIES UPON NAVAL SUBJECTS All matters connected with the sea tend to have, in a greater or less degree, a distinctly specialized character, due to the unfamiliarity which the sea, as a scene of _action_, has for the mass of mankind. Nothing is more trite than the remark continually made to naval officers, that life at sea must give them a great deal of leisure for reading and other forms of personal culture. Without going so far as to say that there is no more leisure in a naval officer's life than in some other pursuits--social engagements, for instance, are largely eliminated when at sea--there is very much less than persons imagine; and what there is is broken up by numerous petty duties and incidents, of which people living on shore have no conception, because they have no experience. It is evident that the remark proceeds in most cases from the speaker's own consciousness of the unoccupied monotony of an ocean passage, in which, unless exceptionally observant, he has not even detected the many small but essential functions discharged by the officers of the ship, whom he sees moving about, but the aim of whose movements he does not understand. The passenger, as regards the economy of the vessel, is passive; he fails to comprehend, often even to perceive, the intense functional activity of brain and body which goes on around him--the real life of the organism. In the progress of the world, nautical matters of every kind are to most men what the transactions of a single ship are to the passenger. They receive impressions, which they mistake for opinions--a most common form of error. These impressions are repeated from mouth to mouth, and having the common note of superficial observation, they are found to possess a certain resemblance. So they serve mutually to fortify one another, and to constitute a _quasi_ public opinion. The repetition and stereotyping of impressions are greatly forwarded by the system of organized gossip which we call the press. It is in consequence of this, quite as much as of the extravagances in a certain far from reputable form of journalism, that the power of the press, great as it unquestionably still is, is not what it should be. It intensifies the feeling of its own constituents, who usually take the paper because they agree with it; but if candid representation of all sides constitutes a fair attempt to instruct the public, no man expects a matter to be fairly put forward. So far does this go, in the experience of the present writer, that one of the most reputable journals in the country, in order to establish a certain extreme position, quoted his opinion in one paragraph, while omitting to give the carefully guarded qualification expressed in the very succeeding paragraph; whereby was conveyed, by implication, the endorsement of the extreme opinion advocated, which the writer certainly never held. Direct misrepresentation, however, whether by commission or by omission, careless or wilful, is probably less harmful than the indirect injury produced by continual repetition of unintentional misconceptions. The former occurs generally in the case of living, present-moment questions; it reaches chiefly those already convinced; and it has its counteraction in the arguments of the other party, which are read by the appropriate constituency. The real work of those questions of the day goes on behind the scenes; and the press affects them, not because of its intrinsic power, but only in so far as it is thought to represent the trend of thought in a body of voters. On subjects of less immediate moment, as military and naval matters are--except when war looms near, and preparation is too late--men's brains, already full enough of pressing cares, refuse to work, and submit passively to impressions, as the eye, without conscious action, takes note of and records external incidents. Unfortunately these impressions, uncorrected by reflection, exaggerated in narration, and intensified by the repetition of a number of writers, come to constitute a body of public belief, not strictly rational in its birth or subsequent growth, but as impassive in its resistance to argument as it was innocent of mental process during its formation. The intention of the present paper is to meet, and as far as possible to remove, some such current errors of the day on naval matters--popular misconceptions, continually encountered in conversation and in the newspapers. Accepting the existence of the navy, and the necessity for its continuance--for some starting-point must be assumed--the errors to be touched upon are: 1. That the United States needs a navy "for defence only." 2. That a navy "for defence only" means for the immediate defence of our seaports and coast-line; an allowance also being made for scattered cruisers to prey upon an enemy's commerce. 3. That if we go beyond this, by acquiring any territory overseas, either by negotiation or conquest, we step at once to the need of having a navy larger than the largest, which is that of Great Britain, now the largest in the world. 4. That the difficulty of doing this, and the expense involved, are the greater because of the rapid advances in naval improvement, which it is gravely said make a ship obsolete in a very few years; or, to use a very favorite hyperbole, she becomes obsolete before she can be launched. The assertion of the rapid obsolescence of ships of war will be dwelt upon, in the hopes of contravening it. 5. After this paper had been written, the calamity to the United States ship _Maine_, in the harbor of Havana, elicited, from the mourning and consternation of the country, the evident tokens of other unreasoning apprehensions--springing from imperfect knowledge and vague impressions--which at least should be noticed cursorily, and if possible appeased. _First_, the view that the United States should plan its navy--in numbers and in sizes of ships--for defence only, rests upon a confusion of ideas--a political idea and a military idea--under the one term of "defence." Politically, it has always been assumed in the United States, and very properly, that our policy should never be wantonly aggressive; that we should never seek our own advantage, however evident, by an unjust pressure upon another nation, much less by open war. This, it will be seen, is a political idea, one which serves for the guidance of the people and of the statesmen of the country in determining--not _how_ war is to be carried on, which is a military question, but--under what circumstances war is permissible, or unjust. This is a question of civil policy, pure and simple, and by no means a military question. As a nation, we have always vehemently avowed that we will, and do, act justly; in practice, like other states, and like mankind generally, when we have wanted anything very badly, we have--at least at times--managed to see that it was just that we should have it. In the matter of general policy our hands are by no means clean from aggression. General Grant, after retiring from public life, maintained that the war with Mexico was an unjust war; a stigma which, if true, stains our possession of California and much other territory. The acquisition of Louisiana was as great an outrage upon the technical rights of Spain as the acquisition of Hawaii would be upon the technical rights of the fast-disappearing aborigines; and there can be little doubt that, although we did not go to war with Spain to get Florida, we made things so uncomfortable for her that she was practically forced at last to get out. It does not follow necessarily that any of these actions were wrong, even if we consider that the so-called _legal_ rights of Mexico and Spain were set aside by the strong hand; for law is simply an invention of mankind to secure justice, and when justice, the natural rights of the greater number, is prevented by the legal, not the natural, rights of a few, the latter may be set aside, as it is at every election, where large minorities of people are forced to submit to what they consider grievous wrong. The danger incurred by overleaping law to secure what is right may be freely admitted; but no great responsibility, such as the use of power always is, can be exercised at all without some danger of abuse. However, be that as it may, there can be no question that in times past we have aggressed upon the legal rights of other states; and in the annexation of Louisiana we infringed the letter of our own Constitution. We broke the law in order to reach an end eminently beneficial to the majority of those concerned. Nevertheless, while thus aggressive on occasion, warring for offence and not for defence only, it is distinctly a good thing that we hold up the ideal, and persuade ourselves that we cherish it; that we prepare means of war only for defence. It is better honestly to profess a high standard, even if we fall from it at times, than wilfully to adopt a lower ideal of conduct. The phrase "War for defence only" conveys, therefore, a political idea, and, as such, a proper and noble idea. Unfortunately, in our country, where almost all activities fall under two chief heads--politics and business--politics, the less sensitively organized but more forceful of the two, intrudes everywhere and masters everything. We dread standing armies. Why? Because standing armies, being organized masses of men, trained to obey capable leaders, may overcome the resistance of a people which is far greater in numbers, but unorganized. What are our politics now but organized masses of men, habituated to obey their leaders, among whom to change their vote is stigmatized as the treason of an Arnold, and between which the popular will is driven helplessly from side to side, like a shuttlecock between two battledores? Politics cleans our streets, regulates our education, and so on; it is not to be wondered at that it intrudes into the military sphere, with confidence all the greater because it is there especially ignorant. Let there be no misunderstanding, however. It is perfectly right that the policy of the country should dictate the character and strength of the military establishment; the evil is when policy is controlled by ignorance, summed up in a mistaken but captivating catchword--"for defence only." Among all masters of military art--including therein naval art--it is a thoroughly accepted principle that mere defensive war means military ruin, and therefore national disaster. It is vain to maintain a military or naval force whose power is not equal to assuming the offensive soon or late; which cannot, first or last, go out, assail the enemy, and hurt him in his vital interests. A navy for defence only, in the _political_ sense, means a navy that will only be used in case we are forced into war; a navy for defence only, in the _military_ sense, means a navy that can only await attack and defend its own, leaving the enemy at ease as regards his own interests, and at liberty to choose his own time and manner of fighting. It is to be observed also that the most beneficial use of a military force is not to _wage_ war, however successfully, but to _prevent_ war, with all its suffering, expense, and complication of embarrassments. Of course, therefore, a navy for defence only, from which an enemy need fear no harm, is of small account in diplomatic relations, for it is nearly useless as a deterrent from war. Whatever there may be in our conditions otherwise to prevent states from attacking us, a navy "for defence only" will not add to them. For mere harbor defence, fortifications are decisively superior to ships, except where peculiar local conditions are found. All our greatest cities on the Atlantic and Gulf coasts can be locally defended better by forts than by ships; but if, instead of a navy "for defence only," there be one so large that the enemy must send a great many ships across the Atlantic, if he sends any, then the question whether he can spare so great a number is very serious, considering the ever-critical condition of European politics. Suppose, for instance, we could put twenty battleships in commission for war in thirty days, and that we had threatening trouble with either Germany, France, Great Britain, or Russia. There is not one of these, except Great Britain, that could afford to send over here twenty-five battleships, which would be the very fewest needed, seeing the distance of their operations from home; while Great Britain, relying wholly on her navy for the integrity of her empire, equally cannot afford the hostility of a nation having twenty battleships, and with whom her points of difference are as inconsequential to her as they are with us. It should be remembered, too, that any war which may arise with the naval nations of Europe--or with Japan, which will soon rank with them--will not be with reference to our own territories, but to our external relations. In the Monroe doctrine, as now understood and viewed in the light of the Venezuela incident, with the utterances then made by our statesmen of all parties, we have on hand one of the biggest contracts any modern state has undertaken. Nor may we anticipate from other nations the easy acquiescence of Great Britain. The way the latter sticks by Canada should warn us that we prevailed in Venezuela because the matter to her was not worth war. Great Britain is gorged with land. Her statesmen are weary of looking after it, and of the persistence with which one advance compels another. It is not so with Germany and France. The latter is traditionally our friend, however, and her ambitions, even when she held Canada, have ever pointed east rather than west. But how about Germany? It is the fashion here to proclaim the Emperor a fool, for his shibboleth is imperialistic and not republican; but if he be, it is with the folly of the age on the European Continent--the hunger for ships, colonies, and commerce, after which the great Napoleon so hankered, and upon which the prosperity of Great Britain has been built. Ships, colonies, commerce, mean to a European nation of to-day just what our vast, half-improved, heavily tariffed territory means to us. They mean to those nations room to expand, land wherewith to portion off the sons and daughters that cannot find living space at home, widespread political and international influence, through blood affiliation with prosperous colonies, the power of which, in the sentiment of brotherhood, received such illustration in the Queen's Jubilee--one of the most majestic sights of the ages; for no Roman triumph ever equalled for variety of interest the Jubilee, in which not victorious force, but love, the all-powerful, was the tie that knit the diversities of the great pageant into one coherent, living whole. What political power is stable save that which holds men's hearts? And what holds men's hearts like blood-relationship, permitted free course and given occasional manifestation and exchange? German colonies, like unto those of Great Britain--such is the foolish day-dream of the German Emperor, if folly it be; but if he be a fool, he knows at least that reciprocal advantage, reciprocal interests, promote the exchange of kindly offices, by which has been kept alive the love between Englishmen at home and Englishmen in the colonies. He knows, also, that such advantages derive from power, from force--not force exerted necessarily but force possessed--and that force, power, depends not upon fleets and armies only, but upon positions also--war being, as Napoleon used to say, "a business of positions"--one of those pregnant phrases of the great captain upon which a man may meditate many hours without exhausting it. A state that aims at maritime power and at colonial empire, as Germany unquestionably--nay, avowedly--now does, needs not only large and widely dispersed colonies; she further needs influence upon those routes of commerce which connect together countries and colonies, and for that she wants possession of minor points, whose value is rather military than commercial, but which essentially affect the control of the sea and of the communications. Now the secrets of the Emperor and of his more confidential advisers are not all worn upon the sleeve, as might be inferred from the audacity and apparent imprudence of occasional utterances. It is known, however, not only from his words, which might be discounted, but from his acts, that he wants a big navy, that he has meddled in South Africa, and that he has on a slight pretext, but not, it may well be believed, in any frivolous spirit, seized Kiao-chou, in China. What all this means to himself can be only a matter of inference. The present writer, after inquiring in quarters likely to be well informed, has been able to obtain nothing more positive than deductions, reasonably made, by men whose business it is to watch current events in Europe; but the idea has long been forming in the minds of political thinkers, looking not only upon the moves of the political chess-board as they superficially appear in each day's news, and are dictated largely by momentary emergencies, but seeking also to detect the purpose and temperament of the players--be they men in power or national tendencies--that the German Emperor is but continuing and expanding a scheme of policy inherited from his predecessors in the government of the state. Nay, more; it is thought that this policy represents a tendency and a need of the German people itself, in the movement towards national unity between its racial constituents, in which so great an advance has already been accomplished in the last thirty years. Elements long estranged, but of the same blood, can in no way more surely attain to community of interest and of view than by the development of an external policy, of which the benefits and the pride may be common to all. True unity requires some common object, around which diverse interests may cling and crystallize. Nations, like families, need to look outside themselves, if they would escape, on the one hand, narrow self-satisfaction, or, on the other, pitiful internal dissensions. The far-reaching external activities fostered in Great Britain by her insular position have not only intensified patriotism, but have given also a certain nobility of breadth to her statesmanship up to the middle of this century. Why, then, should not Germany, whose political unity was effected near two centuries after that of Great Britain, do wisely in imitating a policy whereby the older state has become an empire, that still travels onward to a further and greater unity, which, if realized, shall embrace in one fold remote quarters of the world? Where is the folly of the one conception or of the other? The folly, if it prove such, has as yet no demonstrable existence, save in the imaginations of a portion of the people of the United States, who, clinging to certain maxims of a century ago--when they were quite applicable--or violently opposed to any active interest in matters outside our family of States, find that those who differ from themselves are, if Americans, jingoes, and if foreigners, like the present Emperor William and Mr. Chamberlain, fools. The virtues and the powers of the British and German peoples may prove unequal to their ambitions--time alone can show; but it is a noble aim in their rulers to seek to extend their influence, to establish their positions, and to knit them together, in such wise that as races they may play a mighty part in the world's history. The ambition is noble, even if it fail; if it succeed, our posterity may take a different view of its folly, and of our own wisdom in this generation. For there are at least two steps, in other directions than those as yet taken, by which the Emperor, when he feels strong enough at sea--he is yet scarcely in middle life--might greatly and suddenly increase the maritime empire of Germany, using means which are by no means unprecedented, historically, but which would certainly arouse vehement wrath in the United States, and subject to a severe test our maxim of a navy for defence only. There is a large and growing German colony in southern Brazil, and I am credibly informed that there is a distinct effort to divert thither, by means direct and indirect, a considerable part of the emigration which now comes to the United States, and therefore is lost politically to Germany--for she has, of course, no prospect of colonization here. The inference is that the Emperor hopes at a future day, for which he is young enough to wait, to find in southern Brazil a strong German population, which in due time may seek to detach itself from the Brazilian Republic, as Texas once detached itself from Mexico; and which may then seek political union with Germany, as Texas sought political union with the United States, to obtain support against her former owners and masters. Without advancing any particular opinion as to the advisable geographical limits of the Monroe doctrine, we may be pretty sure that the American people would wordily resent an act which in our press would be called "the aggression of a European military monarchy upon the political or territorial rights of an American republic." This also could be accompanied with the liberal denunciation of William II. which now ornaments our editorial columns; but hard words break no bones, and the practical question would remain, "What are you going to do about it?" with a navy "for defence only." If you cannot offend Germany, in the military sense of "offend"--that is, if you cannot seek her out and _hurt_ her--how are you going to control her? In contemplation of the future contingencies of our national policy, let us contrast our own projected naval force with that now recommended to the German Reichstag by the Budget Committee, despite the many prophecies that the Emperor could not obtain his desired navy. "The Budget Committee of the Reichstag to-day adopted, in accordance with the government proposals, parts of the naval bill, fixing the number of ships to be held in readiness for service as follows: 1 flagship, 18 battleships, 12 large cruisers, 30 small cruisers, 8 coast-defence ironclads, and 13 gunboats, besides torpedo-boats, schoolships, and small gunboats."[5] That these numbers were fixed with reference to the United States is indeed improbable; but the United States should take note. A second means of expanding Germany as a colonial power would be to induce the Dutch--who are the Germans of the lower Rhine and the North Sea--to seek union with the German Empire, the empire of the Germans of the upper Rhine, of the Elbe, and of the Baltic. This, it may be said, would be far less difficult in consummation than the scheme last suggested; for in Brazil, as in the United States and elsewhere, the German emigrant tends to identify himself with the institutions he finds around him, and shows little disposition to political independence--a fact which emphasizes the necessity of strictly German colonies, if the race, outside of Europe, is not to undergo political absorption. The difficulties or the advantages which the annexation of Holland might involve, as regards the political balance of power in Europe, and the vast Asiatic colonies of the Dutch--Sumatra, Java, New Guinea, etc.--are a consideration outside the present scope of American policy; but the transaction would involve one little incident as to which, unlike southern Brazil, a decided opinion may be expressed, and that incident would be the transference of the island of Curaçao, in the West Indies, to Germany. If Curaçao and its political tenure do not fall within the purview of the Monroe doctrine, the Monroe doctrine has no existence; for the island, though small, has a wellnigh impregnable harbor, and lies close beside the routes to the Central American Isthmus, which is to us what Egypt and Suez are to England. But what objection can we urge, or what can we do, with a navy "for defence only," in the military sense of the word "defence"? The way out of this confusion of thought, the logical method of reconciling the political principle of non-aggression with a naval power capable of taking the offensive, if necessary, is to recognize, and to say, that defence means not merely defence of our territory, but defence of our just national interests, whatever they be and wherever they are. For example, the exclusion of direct European political control from the Isthmus of Panama is as really a matter of national defence as is the protection of New York Harbor. Take this as the political meaning of the phrase "a navy for defence only," and naval men, I think, must admit that it is no longer inapplicable as a military phrase, but expresses adequately the naval needs of the nation. But no military student can consider efficient a force so limited, in quantity or in quality, that it must await attack before it can act. Now admitting this view as to the scope of the word "defence," what is the best method of defending your interests when you know that another intends to attack them? Is it to busy yourself with precautions here, and precautions there, in every direction, to head him off when he comes? Or is it to take the simpler means of so preparing that you have the power to hurt him, and to make him afraid that, if he moves, he will be the worse hurt of the two? In life generally a man who means mischief is kept in check best by fear of being hurt; if he has no more to dread than failure to do harm, no reason to apprehend receiving harm, he will make his attempt. But while this is probably true of life in general, it is notably true of warfare. The state which in war relies simply upon defending itself, instead of upon hurting the enemy, is bound to incur disaster, and for the very simple reason that the party which proposes to strike a blow has but one thing to do; whereas he who proposes only to ward off blows has a dozen things, for he cannot know upon which interest, of a dozen that he may have, the coming blow may fall. For this reason, again, a "navy for defence only" is a wholly misleading phrase, unless defence be construed to include _all_ national interests, and not only the national territory; and further, unless it be understood that the best defence of one's own interests is power to injure those of the enemy. In the summary of points to be dealt with has been included the opinion that offensive action by a navy may be limited to merely preying upon the enemy's commerce--that being considered not only a real injury, but one great enough to bring him to peace. Concerning this, it will suffice here to say that national maritime commerce does not consist in a number of ships sprinkled, as by a pepper-pot, over the surface of the ocean. Rightly viewed, it constitutes a great system, with the strength and weakness of such. Its strength is that possessed by all organized power, namely, that it can undergo a good deal of local injury, such as scattered cruisers may inflict, causing inconvenience and suffering, without receiving vital harm. A strong man cannot be made to quit his work by sticking pins in him, or by bruising his shins or blacking his eyes; he must be hit in a vital part, or have a bone broken, to be laid up. The weaknesses of commerce--the fatally vulnerable parts of its system--are the commercial routes over which ships pass. They are the bones, the skeleton, the framework of the organism. Hold them, break them, and commerce falls with a crash, even though no ship is taken, but all locked up in safe ports. But to effect this is not the work of dispersed cruisers picking up ships here and there, as birds pick up crumbs, but of vessels massed into powerful fleets, holding the sea, or at the least making the highways too dangerous for use. A navy so planned is for defence indeed, in the true sense that the best defence is to crush your enemy by depriving him of the use of the sea. We now come to the assertion that if the United States takes to itself interests beyond the sea--of which Hawaii is an instance--it not only adds to its liabilities, which is true, but incurs an unnecessary exposure, to guard against which we need no less than the greatest navy in the world. It might be retorted that, willy-nilly, we already, by general national consent, have accepted numerous external interests--embraced under the Monroe doctrine; and that, as regards Hawaii, many even who reject annexation admit that our interests will not tolerate any other nation taking those islands. But how shall we enforce even that limited amount of interest if any other power--Great Britain, Germany, or Japan--decide to take, and the islanders acquiesce? In such cases we should even be worse off, militarily, than with annexation completed. Let us, however, put aside this argument--of the many already existing external interests--and combat this allegation, that an immense navy would be needed, by recurring to the true military conception of defence already developed. The subject will thus tend to unity of treatment, centring round that word "defence." Effective defence does not consist primarily in power to protect, but in power to injure. A man's defence against a snake, if cornered--if he must have to do with it--is not to protect himself, but to kill the snake. If a snake got into the room, as often happens in India, the position should not be estimated by ability to get out of the room one's self, but by power to get rid of the snake. In fact, a very interesting illustration of the true theory of defence is found in a casual remark in a natural history about snakes--that comparatively few are dangerous to man, but that the whole family is protected by the fear those few inspire. If attacked by a dog, safety is not sought chiefly in the means of warding him off, but by showing him the means possessed of hurting him, as by picking up a stone; and with a man, where an appeal lies to the intelligence, the argument from power to injure is peculiarly strong. If a burglar, thinking to enter a room, knows that he may--or will--kill the occupant, but that the latter may break his leg, he will not enter. The game would not be worth the candle. Apply this thought now to the United States and its naval needs. As Great Britain is by very far the greatest naval power, let us take her to be the supposed enemy. If we possessed the Hawaiian Islands, and war unhappily broke out with Great Britain, she could now, if she desired, take them without trouble, so far as our navy is concerned; so could France; so possibly, five years hence, could Japan. That is, under our present conditions of naval weakness, either France or Great Britain could spare ships enough to overcome our force, without fatally crippling her European fleet; whereas, were our navy half the size of the British, she could not afford to send half her fleet so far away from home; nor, if we had half ours in the Pacific and half in the Atlantic, could she afford to send one-third or one-fourth of her entire navy so far from her greater interests, independent of the fact that, even if victorious, it would be very badly used before our force was defeated. Hawaii is not worth that to Great Britain; whereas it is of so much consequence to us that, even if lost, it would probably be returned at a peace, as Martinique and Guadeloupe invariably have been to France. Great Britain would not find its value equivalent to our resentment at her holding it. Now the argument as to the British fleet is still stronger as to France, for she is as distant as Great Britain and has a smaller navy. The argument is different as regards Japan, for she is nearer by far than they, only half as far again as we, and that power has recently given us an intimation which, if we disregard, we do so in face of the facts. Her remonstrance about the annexation of Hawaii, however far it went, gave us fair warning that a great naval state was about to come into being in the Pacific, prepared to watch, and perhaps to contest, our action in what we thought our interests demanded. From that instant the navy of Japan becomes a standard, showing, whether we annex the islands or not, a minimum beneath which our Pacific fleet cannot be allowed to fall, without becoming a "navy for defence only," in the very worst sense. This brief train of reasoning will suggest why it is not necessary to have a navy equal to the greatest, in order to insure that sense of fear which deters a rival from war, or handicaps his action in war. The biggest navy that ever existed cannot all be sent on one mission, in any probable state of the political world. A much smaller force, favorably placed, produces an effect far beyond its proportionate numbers; for, to quote again Napoleon's phrase, "War is a business of positions." This idea is by no means new, even to unprofessional men; on the contrary, it is so old that it is deplorable to see such fatuous arguments as the necessity of equalling Great Britain's navy adduced against any scheme of external policy. The annexation of Hawaii, to recur to that, may be bad policy for many reasons, of which I am no good judge; but, as a naval student, I hesitate not to say that, while annexation _may_ entail a bigger navy than is demanded for the mere exclusion of other states from the islands--though I personally do not think so--it is absurd to say that we should need a navy equal to that of Great Britain. In 1794 Gouverneur Morris wrote that if the United States had twenty ships of the line in commission, no other state would provoke her enmity. At that time Great Britain's navy was relatively more powerful than it is now, while she and France were rivalling each other in testing the capacity of our country to stand kicking; but Morris's estimate was perfectly correct, and shows how readily a sagacious layman can understand a military question, if only he will put his mind to it, and not merely echo the press. Great Britain then could not--and much more France could not--afford to have twenty ships of the line operating against her interests on the other side of the Atlantic. They could not afford it in actual war; they could not afford it even in peace, because not only might war arise at any time, but it would be much more likely to happen if either party provoked the United States to hostility. The mere menace of such a force, its mere existence, would have insured decent treatment without war; and Morris, who was an able financier, conjectured that to support a navy of such size for twenty years would cost the public treasury less than five years of war would,--not to mention the private losses of individuals in war. All policy that involves external action is sought to be discredited by this assertion, that it entails the expense of a navy equal to the greatest now existing on the sea, no heed being given to the fact that we already have assumed such external responsibilities, if any weight is to be attached to the evident existence of a strong popular feeling in favor of the Monroe doctrine, or to Presidential or Congressional utterances in the Venezuela business, or in that of Hawaii. The assertion is as old as the century; as is also the complementary ignorance of the real influence of an inferior military or naval force in contemporary policy, when such force either is favored by position, or can incline decisively, to one side or the other, the scales in a doubtful balance. To such misapprehensions we owed, in the early part of this century, the impressment of hundreds of American seamen, and the despotic control of our commerce by foreign governments; to this, the blockading of our coasts, the harrying of the shores of Chesapeake Bay, the burning of Washington, and a host of less remembered attendant evils. All these things might have been prevented by the timely maintenance of a navy of tolerable strength, deterring the warring powers from wanton outrage. In the present day the argument that none but the greatest navy is of any avail, and that such is too expensive for us to contemplate--as it probably is--is re-enforced by the common statement that the ship built to-day becomes obsolete in an extremely short time, the period stated being generally a rhetorical figure rather than an exact estimate. The word "obsolete" itself is used here vaguely. Strictly, it means no more than "gone out of use;" but it is understood, correctly, I think, to mean "become useless." A lady's bonnet may become obsolete, being gone out of use because no longer in fashion, though it may still be an adequate head-covering; but an obsolete ship of war can only be one that is put out of use because it is useless. A ship momentarily out of use, because not needed, is no more obsolete than a hat hung up when the owner comes in. When a ship is called obsolete, therefore, it is meant that she is out of use for the same reason that many old English words are--because they are no longer good for their purpose; their meaning being lost to mankind in general, they no longer serve for the exchange of thought. In this sense the obsolescence of modern ships of war is just one of those half-truths which, as Tennyson has it, are ever the worst of lies; it is harder to meet and fight outright than an unqualified untruth. It is true that improvement is continually going on in the various parts of the complex mechanism which constitutes a modern ship of war; although it is also true that many changes are made which are not improvements, and that reversion to an earlier type, the abandonment of a once fancied improvement, is no unprecedented incident in recent naval architecture and naval ordnance. The revulsion from the monitor, the turreted ship pure and simple, to the broadside battery analogous to that carried by the old ships of Farragut and Nelson, is one of the most singular and interesting changes in men's thoughts that the writer has met, either in his experience or in his professional reading. The day can be recalled when the broadside battleship was considered as dead as Cock-Robin--her knell was rung, and herself buried without honors; yet, not only has she revived, but I imagine that I should have a very respectable following among naval officers now in believing, as I do, that the broadside guns, and not those in the turrets, are the primary battery of the ship--primary, I mean, in fighting value. Whatever the worth of this opinion,--which is immaterial to the present contention,--a change so radical as from broadside battery to turreted ships, and from the latter back to broadside, though without entirely giving up turrets, should cause some reasonable hesitancy in imputing obsoleteness to any armored steamship. The present battleship reproduces, in essential principles, the ships that preceded the epoch-making monitor--the pivot guns of the earlier vessels being represented by the present turrets, and their broadsides by the present broadside. The prevalence of the monitor type was an interlude, powerfully affecting the development of navies, but making nothing obsolete. It did not effect a revolution, but a modification--much as homoeopathy did in the "regular practice." There is, of course, a line on one side of which the term "obsolete" applies, but it may be said that no ship is obsolete for which fighting-work can be found, with a tolerable chance--a fighting chance--of her being successful; because, though unequal to this or that position of exposure, she, by occupying an inferior one, releases a better ship. And here again we must guard ourselves from thinking that inferior force--inferior in number or inferior in quality--has _no_ chance against a superior. The idea is simply another phase of "a navy equal to the greatest," another military heresy. A ship under the guns of one thrice her force, from which her speed cannot carry her, is doubtless a lost ship. She may be called even obsolete, though she be the last product of naval science, just from a dock-yard. Before such extreme conditions are reached, however, by a ship or a fleet, many other factors than merely relative force come into play; primarily, man, with all that his personality implies--skill, courage, discipline,--after that, chance, opportunity, accidents of time, accidents of place, accidents of ground,--the whole unforeseeable chapter of incidents which go to form military history. A military situation is made up of many factors, and before a ship can be called obsolete, useless to the great general result, it must be determined that she can contribute no more than zero to either side of the equation--or of the inequality. From the time she left the hands of the designers, a unit of maximum value, throughout the period of her gradual declension, many years will elapse during which a ship once first-rate will be an object of consideration to friend and foe. She will wear out like a garment, but she does not necessarily become obsolete till worn out. It may be added that the indications now are that radical changes of design are not to be expected shortly, and that we have reached a type likely to endure. A ship built five years hence may have various advantages of detail over one now about to be launched, but the chances are they will not be of a kind that reverse the odds of battle. This, of course, is only a forecast, not an assertion; a man who has witnessed the coming and going of the monitor type will forbear prophecy. Now, as always, the best ships in the greatest number, as on shore the best troops in the greatest masses, will be carried as speedily as possible, and maintained as efficiently as possible, on the front of operations. But in various directions and at various points behind that front there are other interests to be subserved, by vessels of inferior class, as garrisons may be made up wholly or in part of troops no longer well fitted for the field. But should disaster occur, or the foe prove unexpectedly strong, the first line of reserved ships will move forward to fill the gaps, analogous in this to the various corps of reserved troops who have passed their first youth, with which the Continental organizations of military service have made us familiar. This possibility has been recognized so well by modern naval men that some even have looked for decisive results, not at the hands of the first and most powerful ships, but from the readiness and number of those which have passed into the reserve, and will come into play after the first shock of war. That a reserve force should decide a doubtful battle or campaign is a frequent military experience--an instance of superior staying power. There is no reason, therefore, to worry about a ship becoming obsolete, any more than there is over the fact that the best suit of to-day may be that for the office next year, and may finally descend to a dependent, or be cut down for a child. Whatever money a nation is willing to spend on maintaining its first line of ships, it is not weaker, but stronger, when one of these drops into the reserve and is replaced by a newer ship. The great anxiety, in truth, is not lest the ships should not continue valid, but lest there be not trained men enough to man both the first line and the reserve. Here the present article, as at first contemplated, would have closed; but the recent disaster to the _Maine_ has produced its own crop of sudden and magnified apprehensions. These, to the professional mind, are necessarily a matter of concern, but chiefly because they have showed the seeds of a popular distrust before sown in men's minds. As evinced, however, they too are fallacies born of imperfect knowledge. The magnitude of the calamity was indisputable; but the calm self-possession of the nation and of the better portion of the press, face to face with the possible international troubles that might ensue, contrasted singularly with the unreasoned imaginations that immediately found voice concerning the nature and dangers of battleships. The political self-possession and dignity reposed upon knowledge--not, indeed, of the eventual effect upon our international relations--but knowledge, bred of long acquaintance with public affairs, that, before further action, there must be investigation; and that after investigation, action, if it must follow, would be taken with due deliberation. So men were content to wait for justice to pursue its even course. But the fact that such an appalling catastrophe had befallen one battleship fell upon the minds imperfectly informed in naval matters, and already possessed by various exaggerated impressions, loosely picked up from time to time. Men knew not what to think, and so thought the worst--as we are all apt to do when in the dark. It is possible that naval officers, being accustomed to live over a magazine, and ordinarily to eat their meals within a dozen yards of the powder, may have a too great, though inevitable, familiarity with the conditions. There is, however, no contempt for them among us; and the precautions taken are so well known, the remoteness of danger so well understood, that it is difficult to comprehend the panic terror that found utterance in the remarks of some men, presumably well informed on general matters. It is evidently a very long and quite illogical step to infer that, because the results of an accident may be dreadful, therefore the danger of the accident occurring at all is very great. On land, a slight derangement of a rail, a slight obstacle on a track, the breaking of a wheel or of an axle, may plunge a railroad train to frightful disaster; but we know from annual experience that while such accidents do happen, and sometimes with appalling consequences, the chance of their happening in a particular case is so remote that we disregard it. At sea, every day of every year for centuries back, a couple of hundred warships--to speak moderately--have been traversing the ocean or lying in port, like the _Maine_, with abundance of powder on board; and for the last quarter of a century very many of these have been, and now are, essentially of the type of that unfortunate vessel. The accident that befell her, if its origin be precisely determined, may possibly impose some further precaution not hitherto taken; but whatever the cause may prove to have been, it is clear that the danger of such an event happening is at no time great, because it is almost, if not quite, unprecedented among the great number of warships now continuously in service. Similarly, on the seas, the disasters to the _Ville du Havre_, to the _Oregon_, and, only three years ago, to the _Elbe_, show the terrific results of collision, to which every ship crossing the ocean is liable. Collisions between vessels less known than those named are of weekly occurrence. Yet no general outcry is raised against the general safety of the transatlantic liners. People unconsciously realize that, where accidents are so infrequent, the risk to themselves in the individual case is slight, though the results, when they happen, are dreadful. Men know instinctively that the precautions taken must be practically adequate, or safety would not be the almost universal rule which it is. It should be remembered, too, that the present battleship is not a sudden invention, springing up in a night, like Jonah's gourd, or newly contrived by a council sitting for the purpose, like a brand-new Constitution of the French Revolution. The battleship of to-day is the outcome of a gradual evolution extending over forty years. Its development has been governed by experience, showing defects or suggesting improvements; and the entire process has been superintended by men of the highest practical and scientific intelligence, naval architects and seamen, constantly exchanging ideas, not only with their own countrymen, but, through the scientific publications of the day, with the whole world. What Ruskin said of the old ship of the line is still more true of the modern battleship: no higher exhibition of man's creative faculties is probably anywhere to be found. In view, therefore, of its genesis, and of the practical results of yearly cruisings, the battleship in its service of peace is entitled to the confidence we give to the work of competent men in all departments; nor should that confidence be withdrawn because of a single occurrence, if the _Maine_ prove to have fallen victim to internal accident. If, on the other hand, her destruction proceeded from an external cause,--that is, if she fell as ships fall in war,--it may safely be said that, in actions between ships, no means of injury now in use on shipboard could effect the instantaneous and widespread destruction manifested in her case, unless by a shell finding its way to her magazine. This is a remote possibility, though it exists; but when it comes to fighting, men must remember that it is not possible to make war without running risks, and that it is highly improbable that one-tenth as many seamen will die from the explosion of their own magazines, so occasioned, as from the direct blow of the enemy's projectiles. NOTE.--Since this article was written, in January, 1898, it has become known that the attitude of Japan towards the United States, regarded as a power of the Pacific, has been reversed, and that--as already remarked in the preface to this volume--her leading statesmen, instead of resenting the annexation of Hawaii, now welcome cordially the advance of the United States to the Philippines. This change, occurring as it has within four years, affords a striking indication of the degree to which the attention of mankind has been aroused by the character of Russia's progress in northeastern Asia, and upon the Pacific, as well as of the influence thereby exerted upon the currents of men's thoughts, and upon international relations. FOOTNOTES: [5] From a telegram from Berlin of March 2, 1898. [Illustration] _Uniform with "Lessons of the War with Spain and Other Articles."_ THE INTEREST OF AMERICA IN SEA POWER, Present and Future. By CAPT. A.T. MAHAN. With two maps showing strategic points. Crown 8vo. Cloth, gilt top. $2.00. CONTENTS I. The United States Looking Outward. II. Hawaii and our Sea Power. III. The Isthmus and our Sea Power. IV. Anglo-American Alliance. V. The Future in Relation to American Naval Power. VI. Preparedness for Naval War. VII. A Twentieth Century Outlook. VIII. Strategic Features of the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean Sea. All the civilized world knows Captain Mahan is an expert on naval matters. His present position on the Board of Strategy, directing the American fleets, has made him even more conspicuous than usual. These papers, in the light of the present war, prove Captain Mahan a most sane and sure prophet. It seems hard to imagine any topics more fascinating at the present time. No romance, no novel, could possibly equal such essays as these, by such an author, in present public interest. So many of his theories have come to reality as to be positively remarkable.--_The Criterion._ The last paper, "Strategic Features of the Caribbean Sea and the Gulf of Mexico," written only last year, deals with problems that now confront the people of the United States in the shape of practical questions that will have to be decided for the present and the future. It is well within the bounds of truth to say that an intelligent comprehension of these questions is not possible without a reading of the present volume.--_Philadelphia Inquirer._ His paper on Hawaii is timely at this moment, as it treats of the annexation of the Sandwich Islands from the point of view which our statesmen might well take, rather than from the professional view which a naval officer might be expected to hold.--_Philadelphia Telegraph._ The substance of all these essays concerns every intelligent voter in this country.--_Boston Herald._ LITTLE, BROWN, & COMPANY, Publishers 254 Washington Street, Boston. THE INFLUENCE OF SEA POWER UPON HISTORY, 1660-1783. By CAPT. A.T. MAHAN. With 25 charts illustrative of great naval battles. 8vo. Cloth, gilt top. $4.00. Captain Mahan has been recognized by all competent judges, not merely as the most distinguished living writer on naval strategy, but as the originator and first exponent of what may be called the philosophy of naval history.--_London Times._ No book of recent publication has been received with such enthusiasm of grateful admiration as that written by an officer of the American Navy, Captain Mahan, upon Sea Power and Naval Achievements. It simply supplants all other books on the subject, and takes its place in our libraries as the standard work.--DEAN HOLE, in "_More Memories_." An altogether exceptional work; there is nothing like it in the whole range of naval literature.... The work is entirely original in conception, masterful in construction, and scholarly in execution.--_The Critic._ Captain Mahan, whose name is famous all the world over as that of the author of "The Influence of Sea Power upon History," a work, or rather a series of works, which may fairly be said to have codified the laws of naval strategy.--_The Westminster Gazette._ An instructive work of the highest value and interest to students and to the reading public, and should find its way into all the libraries and homes of the land.--_Magazine of American History._ A book that must be read. _First_, it must be read by all schoolmasters, from the head-master of Eton to the head of the humblest board-school in the country. No man is fit to train English boys to fulfil their duties as Englishmen who has not marked, learned, and inwardly digested it. _Secondly_, it must be read by every Englishman and Englishwoman who wishes to be worthy of that name. It is no hard or irksome task to which I call them. The writing is throughout clear, vigorous, and incisive.... The book deserves and must attain a world-wide reputation.--COLONEL MAURICE, _of the British Army, in the "United Service Magazine_." LITTLE, BROWN, & COMPANY, Publishers 254 Washington Street, Boston THE INFLUENCE OF SEA POWER upon the French Revolution and Empire. By CAPT. A.T. MAHAN. With 13 maps and battle plans, 2 vols. 8vo. Cloth, gilt top. $6.00. A highly interesting and an important work, having lessons and suggestions which are calculated to be of high value to the people of the United States. His pages abound with spirited and careful accounts of the great naval battles and manoeuvres which occurred during the period treated.--_New York Tribune._ Captain Mahan has done more than to write a new book upon naval history. He has even done more than to write the best book that has ever been written upon naval history, though he has done this likewise; for he has written a book which may be regarded as founding a new school of naval historical writing. Captain Mahan's volumes are already accepted as the standard authorities of their kind, not only here, but in England and in Europe generally. It should be a matter of pride to all Americans that an officer of our own navy should have written such books.--THEODORE ROOSEVELT, in "_Political Science Quarterly_." THE LIFE OF NELSON: The Embodiment of the Sea Power of Great Britain. By CAPT. A.T. MAHAN. With 19 portraits and plates in photogravure and 21 maps and battle plans. 2 vols. 8vo. Cloth, gilt top. $8.00. Captain Mahan's work will become one of the greatest naval classics.--_London Times._ The greatest literary achievement of the author of "The Influence of Sea Power upon History." Never before have charm of style, perfect professional knowledge, the insight and balanced judgment of a great historian, and deep admiration for the hero been blended in any biography of Nelson.--_London Standard._ LITTLE, BROWN, & COMPANY, Publishers 254 Washington Street, Boston CAPTAIN MAHAN'S LIFE OF NELSON NEW POPULAR EDITION COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME THE LIFE OF NELSON. The Embodiment of the Sea Power of Great Britain. By CAPT. A.T. MAHAN. With 12 portraits and plates in half-tone and a photogravure frontispiece. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 750 pages, $3.00. It is not astonishing that this standard life is already passing into a new edition. It has simply displaced all its predecessors except one, that of Southey, which is the vade-mecum of British patriotism, a stimulant of British loyalty, literature of high quality, but in no sense a serious historical or psychological study.... The reader will find in this book three things; an unbroken series of verified historical facts related in minute detail; a complete picture of the hero, with every virtue justly estimated but with no palliation of weakness or fault; and lastly a triumphant vindication of a theses novel and startling to most, that the earth's barriers are continental, its easy ad defensible highways those of the trackless ocean.... Captain Mahan has revealed the modern world to itself.--_American Historical Review, July, 1899._ Captain Mahan's masterly life of Nelson has already taken its place as the final book on the subject.--_Mail and Express_, New York. One never tires of reading or reflecting upon the marvellous career of Horatio Nelson, the greatest sea captain the world has known. Captain Mahan has written the best biography of Lord Nelson that has yet been given to the world.--_Chicago Evening Post._ His biography is not merely the best life of Nelson that has ever been written, but it is also perfect, and a model among all the biographies of the world.--_Pall Mall Gazette._ LITTLE, BROWN, & COMPANY, Publishers 254, Washington Street, Boston * * * * * +-----------------------------------------------------------+ | Typographical errors corrected in text: | | | | Page 31: Reconnoissance replaced with Reconnaissance | | Page 297: transferrence replaced with transference | | | +-----------------------------------------------------------+ * * * * * 
33445	----	The Cambridge Manuals of Science and Literature NAVAL WARFARE CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS London: FETTER LANE, E.C. C.F. CLAY, MANAGER [Illustration] Edinburgh: 100 PRINCES STREET Berlin: A. ASHER AND CO. Leipzig: F.A. BROCKHAUS New York: G.P. PUTNAM'S SONS Bombay and Calcutta: MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD. _All rights reserved_ NAVAL WARFARE BY JAMES R. THURSFIELD M.A. Hon. Fellow of Jesus College, Oxford WITH AN INTRODUCTION by Rear-Admiral SIR CHARLES L. OTTLEY K.C.M.G., C.B., M.V.O. Sometime Director of Naval Intelligence and Secretary to the Committee of Imperial Defence Cambridge: at the University Press New York: G.P. Putnam's Sons 1913 _With the exception of the coat of arms at the foot, the design on the title page is a reproduction of one used by the earliest known Cambridge printer, John Siberch, 1521_ CONTENTS PAGE INTRODUCTION BY SIR CHARLES OTTLEY vii PREFACE xiii CHAP. I. INTRODUCTORY 1 II. THE COMMAND OF THE SEA 11 III. DISPUTED COMMAND--BLOCKADE 20 IV. DISPUTED COMMAND--THE FLEET IN BEING 30 V. DISPUTED COMMAND IN GENERAL 49 VI. INVASION 68 VII. COMMERCE IN WAR 93 VIII. THE DIFFERENTIATION OF NAVAL FORCE 111 IX. THE DISTRIBUTION AND SUPPLY OF NAVAL FORCE 129 INDEX 147 INTRODUCTION The title chosen by its author for this little volume would assuredly commend it to the Naval Service, even if that author's name were not--as it is--a household word with more than one generation of naval officers. But to such of the general public as are not yet familiar with Mr Thursfield's writings a brief word of introduction may perhaps be useful. For the matters herein dealt with are by no means of interest only to the naval profession. They have their bearing also on every calling and trade. In these days when national policy is at the mercy of the ballot-box, it is not too much to say that a right understanding of the principles of maritime warfare is almost as desirable amongst civilians as amongst professional sailors. Regrettable indeed would it be if the mere fact that this little book bears a more or less technical title should tempt the careless to skip its pages or pitch it to that dreary limbo which attends even the best of text-books on subjects which we think do not concern us. The fruits of naval victory, the calamities attendant on naval defeat are matters which will come home--in Bacon's classic phrase--to the business and the bosoms of all of us, landsmen and seamen alike. Most Englishmen are at least dimly aware of this. They realise, more or less reluctantly perhaps, that a decisive British defeat at sea under modern conditions would involve unspeakable consequences, consequences not merely fatal to the structure of the Empire but destructive also of the roots of our national life and of the well-being of almost all individuals in these islands. Elementary prudence insists on adequate safeguards against evils so supreme, and amongst those safeguards the education of the people to-day occupies a foremost place. Our Empire's destinies for good and evil are now in the hands of the masses of the people. Sincerely as all lovers of ordered freedom may rejoice in this devolution of political power to the people, thoughtful men will be apt to reflect that an uninstructed crowd is seldom right in its collective action. If Ministerial responsibility has dwindled, _pro tanto_ that of each one of His Majesty's lieges has enormously increased; and it is more incumbent on the nation's rank and file to-day than ever in the past to equip themselves with the knowledge necessary to enable them to record their votes aright. It is from this point of view that this Manual should be read. It epitomises the principles upon which success in naval warfare depends. It shows how the moral factor in all cases and at every epoch dominates and controls the material; how the "_animus pugnandi_," as Mr Thursfield calls it, the desire to get at the enemy in "anything that floats," transcends every other weapon in a nation's armoury; how if that spirit is present, all other difficulties can be surmounted, and how without it the thickest armour, the biggest all-shattering guns shrivel in battle to the measure of mere useless scrap iron. This is the message of the book for the seaman. But--and this is of the essence of the whole matter--for the landsman it has also a lesson of a very different kind. His responsibility is for the material factor in naval war. Let him note the supreme value of the moral factor; let him encourage it with all possible honour and homage, but let him not limit his contribution to the nation's fighting capital to any mere empty lip-service of this kind. The moral factor is primarily the sailor's business. The landsman's duty is to see to it that when war comes our sailors are sent to sea, not in "anything that floats" but in the most modern and perfect types of warship that human ingenuity can design. How can this fundamental duty be brought home to the individual Englishman? Certainly not by asking him to master the niceties of modern naval technique, matters on which every nation must trust to its experts. But, the broad principles of naval warfare are to-day precisely as they were at Salamis or Lepanto; and to a people such as ours, whose history from its dawn has been moulded by maritime conditions, and which to-day more than ever depends upon free oversea communications for its continued existence, these broad principles governing naval warfare have so real a significance that they may wisely be studied by all classes of the community. Tactics indeed have profoundly altered, and from age to age may be expected to change indefinitely. But so long as the sea remains naval warfare will turn upon the command of the sea; a "Fleet in Being" will not cease to be as real a threat to its foe as it was in the days of Torrington; invasion of oversea territory will always be limited by the same inexorable factors which for centuries have told in favour of the British race and have kept the fields of England inviolate from the tread of a conqueror. There are indications that still more heavy sacrifices will be demanded from the British taxpayer for the upkeep of the Fleet in the future than has been the case even in the recent past. Nothing but iron necessity can justify this unfruitful expenditure, this alienation of the national resources in men and money to the purposes of destruction. Even as it is, naval administrators are finding it increasingly difficult to carry all sections of politicians and the whole of the masses of this country with them in these ever-increasing demands. The best way of ensuring that future generations of Englishmen will rise to the necessary height of a patriotic sense of duty and will record their votes in support of such reasonable demands is to prepare their minds by an elementary knowledge of what naval warfare really means. No Englishman, so far as the writer is aware, is better fitted than Mr Thursfield to undertake this task, and this little book is a very excellent example of the way in which that task should be fulfilled. It unites--very necessarily--a high degree of condensation with a simplicity of language and a lucidity of exposition both alike admirable. And Mr Thursfield's right to be heard on naval questions is second to that of no civilian in these islands. His relations with the British Navy have been for more than a quarter of a century of the closest kind. His reputation in the particular field of literary endeavour which he has made his own ranks high amongst writers as celebrated as Admiral Mahan, Sir George Sydenham Clarke (Lord Sydenham), the late Sir John Colomb, and his brother the late Admiral P.H. Colomb, Sir J.K. Laughton, Admiral Sir Cyprian Bridge, Admiral Sir R.N. Custance, Mr Julian Corbett, Mr David Hannay, Mr Archibald Hurd, and others. In the domain of naval history, its philosophy and its literature, he has done brilliant work. When it is added that Mr Thursfield is known to have been, for many years, one of the chief naval advisers of _The Times_, enough will probably have been said to ensure a sympathetic attention for this the veteran author's latest publication. C.L. OTTLEY _24th July 1913_ PREFACE Intelligent readers of this little Manual will perceive at once that it pretends to be nothing more than an introduction, quite elementary in character, to the study of naval warfare, its history, and its principles as displayed in its history. As such, I trust it may be found useful by those of my countrymen who desire to approach the naval problems which are constantly being brought to their notice and consideration with sound judgment and an intelligent grasp of the principles involved in their solution. It is the result of much study and of a sustained intimacy with the sea service, both afloat and ashore, such as few civilians have been privileged to enjoy in greater measure. Even so, I should have thought it right, as a civilian, to offer some apology for undertaking to deal with so highly technical and professional a subject, were I not happily relieved of that obligation by the kindness of my friend Rear-Admiral Sir Charles L. Ottley, who has, at the instance of the Editors of this series, contributed to this volume an Introduction in which my qualifications are set forth with an appreciation which I cannot but regard as far too flattering. It would ill become me to add a single word--unless it were of deprecation--to credentials expounded on such high authority. I should hope that readers who have found this volume useful to them will not confine their studies to it. Abundant materials for a deeper and more comprehensive study of the subject will be found in the several works incidentally mentioned or quoted in my text, and in the writings of those other contemporary authors with whom Sir Charles Ottley has done me the high honour to associate myself. In these several works further guidance to a still more sustained study of the subject will be found, and in this regard I would specially mention the admirable _Short History of the Royal Navy_, by Mr David Hannay--two volumes which, in addition to their other and more conspicuous merits, contain a well-selected list of authorities to be consulted prefixed to each chapter. These references, which in truth cover the whole subject, will, I trust, better serve the purpose of the advanced or advancing student than any such Bibliography as I could compile on a scale commensurate with the form and purpose of the present Manual. Readers of my other writings on naval topics will, perhaps, observe that in one or two cases, where the same topics had to be discussed, I have not hesitated to reproduce, with or without modification, the language I had previously employed. This has been done deliberately. The topics so treated fell naturally and, indeed, necessarily within the scope of the present volume. To exclude them because I had discussed them elsewhere was impossible. Wherever I found I could improve the language previously employed in the direction of greater lucidity and precision I have done so to the best of my ability, so that the passages in question are close paraphrases rather than mere transcripts of those which occur elsewhere. But I have not attempted to disguise or weaken by paraphrase any passages which still seemed to me to convey my meaning better than any other words I could choose. Changes in the methods, though not in the principles, of naval warfare are in these days so rapid and often so sudden that one or two topics have emerged into public prominence even since the present volume was in type. I desire therefore to take this opportunity of adding a few supplementary remarks on them. The first, and possibly in the long run the most far-reaching of these topics, is that of aviation, which I have only mentioned incidentally in the text. That aviation is still in its infancy is a truism. But to forecast the scope and direction of its evolution is as yet impossible. For the moment it may perhaps be said that its offensive capacity--its capacity, that is, to determine or even materially to affect the larger issues of naval warfare--is inconsiderable. I say nothing of the future, whether immediate or remote. Any day may witness developments which will give entirely new aspects to the whole problem. In the meanwhile the chief functions of aircraft in war will probably be, for some time to come, those of scouting, observation, and the collection and transmission of intelligence not obtainable by any other means. Offensive functions of a more direct and formidable character will doubtless be developed in time, and may be developed soon; but as I am no prophet I cannot attempt to forecast the direction of the evolution, to determine its limits, or to indicate its probable effects on the methods of naval warfare as expounded in the following pages. I will, however, advance two propositions which will not, I believe, be gainsaid by competent authorities. They are true for the moment, though how long they may remain true I do not know. One is that no aircraft yet constructed can take or keep the air in all conditions of weather. The number of days in the year in which it can do so in safety can only be represented by the formula 365-_x_, in which _x_ is as yet an unknown quantity, though it is no doubt a quantity which will diminish as the art of aviation is developed. The other is that there is as yet no known method of navigating an aircraft with accuracy and precision out of sight of land. The air-currents by which it is affected are imperceptible to those embarked, variable and indeterminate in their force and direction, and quite incapable of being charted beforehand. In these conditions an airman who sought to steer by compass alone, say, from Bermuda to New York, might perchance find himself either at Halifax, on the one hand, or at Charleston on the other. In my chapter on "Invasion" no mention is made of those subsidiary forms of military enterprise across the sea which are known as raids. I have treated invasion as an enterprise having for its object the subjugation of the country invaded, or at least the subjection of its people and their rulers to the enemy's will. As such it requires a force commensurate in numbers with the object to be attained, and it stands to reason that this force must needs be so large that its chances of evading the vigilance of an enemy who is in effective command of the sea must always be infinitesimal. A raid, on the other hand, is an enterprise of much lesser magnitude and much smaller moment. Its method is to elude the enemy's naval guard at this or that point of his territory; and, having done so, its purpose is to land troops at some vulnerable point of the territory assailed, there to create alarm and confusion and to do as much harm as they can--which may be considerable before their sea communications are severed by the defending naval force assumed to be still in effective command of the sea affected. If that command is maintained, the troops engaged in the raid must inevitably be reduced sooner or later to the condition of a forlorn hope which has failed. If, on the other hand, that command is overthrown, then the troops aforesaid may prove to be the advanced guard of an invasion to follow. Thus, although a successful raid may sometimes be carried out in the teeth of an adverse command of the sea, yet it cannot be converted into an invasion until that adverse command has been assailed and overthrown. It is thus essentially fugitive in character, possibly very effective as a diversion, certain to be mortifying to the belligerent assailed, and not at all unlikely to cause him much injury and even more alarm, but quite incapable of deciding the larger issues of the conflict so long as his command of the sea remains unchallenged. It is perhaps expedient to say this much on the subject, because the programme of the Naval Manoeuvres of this year is known to have included a series of raids of this fugitive character. Whether, or to what extent, any of these operations were adjudged to have been successful I do not know. I am only concerned to point out that, whether successful or not, their utmost success can throw little or no light on the problem of invasion unless in the course of the same operations the defenders' command of the sea was adjudged to have been overthrown. In my chapter on "The Differentiation of Naval Force" I endeavoured to define the functions of the so-called "battle-cruiser" and to forecast its special uses in war. At the same time I pointed out that "it is held by some high authorities that the battle-cruiser is in very truth a hybrid and an anomaly, and that no adequate reason for its existence can be given." It would appear that the views of these high authorities have now been adopted, in some measure at least, by the Admiralty. Since the chapter in question was in type it has been officially announced that the battle-cruiser has been placed in temporary, and perhaps permanent, abeyance. Its place is to be taken by a special type of fast battleship, vessels in every way fit to lie in a line and yet, at the same time, endowed with qualities which, without unduly increasing their size and displacement, will enable them to discharge the special functions which I assigned to the battle-cruiser in the line of battle. This is done by employing oil instead of coal as the source of the ship's motive power. The change thus adumbrated would seem to be in the natural order of evolution, and at the same time to be in large measure one rather of nomenclature than of substance. The battle-cruiser, as its name implies, is itself essentially a fast battleship in one aspect and an exceedingly powerful cruiser in another. In the fast battleship which is to replace it, the battle function will be still further developed at the expense of the cruiser function. But its speed will still qualify it to be employed as a cruiser whenever occasion serves or necessity requires, just as the battle-cruiser was qualified to lie in a line and do its special work in a fleet action. The main difference is that the fast battleship is much less likely to be employed as a cruiser than the battle-cruiser was; but I pointed out in the text that the employment even of the battle-cruiser in cruiser functions proper was likely to be only occasional and subsidiary. The decision to use oil as the exclusive source of the motive power of fast battleships, and of certain types of small cruisers of exceptional speed, is undoubtedly a very significant one. It may be taken to point to a time when oil only will be employed in the propulsion of warships and coal will be discarded altogether. But that consummation can only be reached when the internal combustion engine has been much more highly developed for purposes of marine propulsion than it is at present. At present oil is only employed in large warships for the purpose of producing steam by the external combustion of the oil. But it may be anticipated that a process of evolution, now in its initial stages in the Diesel and other internal combustion engines, will in course of time result in the production of an internal combustion engine capable of propelling the largest ships at any speed that is now attainable by existing methods. When that stage is reached oil will, for economic reasons alone, undoubtedly hold the field for all purposes of propulsion in warships. It is held by some that this country will then be placed at a great disadvantage, inasmuch as it possesses a monopoly of the best steam coal, whereas it has no monopoly of oil at all, and probably no sufficient domestic supply of it to meet the needs of the Fleet in time of war. But oil can be stored as easily as coal and, unlike coal, it does not deteriorate in storage. To bring it in sufficient supplies from abroad in time of war should be no more difficult for a Power which commands the sea than to bring in the supplies of food and raw material on which this country depends at all times for its very existence. Moreover, even if we continued to depend on coal alone, that coal, together with other supplies in large quantities, must, as I have shown in my last chapter, be carried across the seas in a continuous stream to our fleets in distant waters, and one of the great advantages of oil over coal is that it can be transferred with the greatest ease to the warships requiring it at any rendezvous on the high seas, whether in home waters or at the uttermost ends of the globe, which may be most conveniently situated for the conduct of the operations in hand. For these reasons I hold that no serious apprehension need be entertained lest the supply of oil to our warships should fail so long as we hold the command of the sea. If ever we lost the command of the sea we should not be worrying about the supply of oil. Oil or no oil, we should be starving, destitute and defenceless. It only remains for me to express my gratitude to my friend Sir Charles Ottley, not merely for an Introduction in which I cannot but fear that he has allowed his friendship to get the better of his judgment, but also for his kindness in devoting so much of his scanty leisure to the reading of my proofs and the making of many valuable suggestions thereon. I have also to thank my friend Captain Herbert W. Richmond, R.N., for his unselfish kindness in allowing me to make use of his notes on the Dunkirk campaign which he has closely studied in the original papers preserved at the Admiralty and the Record Office. To my son, Lieutenant H.G. Thursfield, R.N., I am also indebted for many valuable suggestions. Finally, my acknowledgments are due to the Editors of this series and the Syndics of the Cambridge University Press for their uniform courtesy and consideration. J.R.T. _4th September 1913._ NAVAL WARFARE CHAPTER I INTRODUCTORY War is the armed conflict of national wills, an appeal to force as between nation and nation. Naval warfare is that part of the conflict which takes place on the seas. The civilized world is divided into separate, independent States or nations, each sovereign within its own borders. Each State pursues its own ideas and aims and embodies them in a national policy; and so far as this policy affects only its own citizens, it is subject to no control except that of the national conscience and the national sense of the public welfare. Within the State itself civil war may arise when internal dissensions divide the nation into two parties, of which either pursues a policy to which the other refuses to submit. In this case, unless the two parties agree to separate without conflict, as was done by Sweden and Norway a few years ago, an armed conflict ensues and the nation is divided into two belligerent States which may or may not become, according to the fortune of war, separate, independent, and sovereign in the end. The great example of this in our own time was the War of Secession in America, which, happily for both parties, ended without disruption, in the surrender of the weaker of the two, and after a time in a complete reconciliation between them. Thus war may arise between two parties in a single State, and when it does the two parties become, to all intents and purposes, separate, independent, and sovereign States for the time being, and are, for the most part, so regarded and treated by other independent States not taking part in the conflict. For this reason, though the origin of a civil war may differ widely in all its circumstances and conditions from that of a war between two separate States, sovereign and independent _ab initio_, yet as soon as a state of war is established, as distinct from that of a puny revolt or a petty rebellion, there is, for a student of war, no practical difference between a civil war and any other kind of war. Both fall under the definition of war as the armed conflict of national wills. Between two separate, sovereign, independent nations a state of war arises in this wise. We have seen that the internal policy of an independent State is subject to no direct external control. But States do not exist in isolation. Their citizens trade with the citizens of other States, seeking to exchange the products of their respective industries to the advantage of both. As they grow in prosperity, wealth, and population, their capital seeks employment in other lands, and their surplus population seeks an outlet in such regions of the earth as are open to their occupation. Thus arise external relations between one State and another, and the interests affected by these relations are often found--and perhaps still more often believed--by one State to be at variance with those of another. In pursuit of these interests--which, as they grow and expand, become embodied in great consolidated kingdoms, great colonial empires, or great imperial dependencies, and tend to be regarded in time as paramount to all other national interests--each State formulates and pursues an external policy of its own which may or may not be capable of amicable adjustment to the policy of other States engaged in similar enterprises. It is the function of diplomacy to effect adjustments such as these where it can. It succeeds much more often than it fails. Conflicting policies are deflected by mutual agreement and concession so as to avoid the risk of collision, and each State, without abandoning its policy, modifies it and adjusts it to the exigencies of the occasion. Sometimes, however, diplomacy fails, either because the conflicting policies are really irreconcilable, or because passion, prejudice, national ambition, or international misunderstanding induces the citizens of both States and their rulers so to regard them. In that case, if neither State is prepared so to deflect its policy as to avert collision, war ensues. The policy remains unchanged, but the means of further pursuing it, otherwise than by an appeal to force, are exhausted. War is thus, according to the famous definition of Clausewitz, the pursuit of national policy by other means than those which mere diplomacy has at its command--in other words by the conflict of armed force. Each State now seeks to bend its enemy's will to its own and to impose its policy upon him. The means of pursuing this policy vary almost indefinitely. But inasmuch as war is essentially the conflict of armed force, the primary object of each belligerent must in all cases be to subdue, and, in the last resort, to destroy the armed forces of the adversary. When that is done all is done that war can do. How to do this most speedily and most effectively is the fundamental problem of war. There is no cut-and-dried solution of the problem, because although war may be considered, as it has been considered above, in the abstract, it is the most concrete of all human arts and, subject to the fundamental principle above enunciated, its particular forms may, and indeed must, vary with the circumstances and conditions of each particular war. Many commentators on war distinguishing, with Clausewitz, between "limited" and "unlimited" war, would further insist that the forms of war must vary with its objects. I cannot follow this distinction, which seems to me to be inconsistent with the fundamental proposition of Clausewitz, to the effect that war is the pursuit of policy by means of the conflict of armed force. If you desire your policy to prevail you must take the best means that are open to you to make it prevail. It is worse than useless to dissipate your energies in the pursuit of any purpose, however important in itself, which does not directly conduce, and conduce better than any other purpose you could pursue, to that paramount end. The only limitation of your efforts that you can tolerate is that they should involve the least expenditure of energy that may be necessary to make your policy prevail. But that is a question of the economics of war; it is not a question of "limited war" or of "war for a limited object." Your sole object is to bend the enemy to your will. That object is essentially an unlimited one, or one that is limited only by the extent of the efforts which the enemy makes to withstand you. The only sure way of attaining this object is to destroy his armed forces. If he submits before this is done it is he that limits the war, not you. Bacon's unimpeachable maxim in this regard is often misinterpreted. "This much is certain," he says, "he that commands the sea is at great liberty and may take as much or as little of the war as he will." That is indisputable, but its postulate is that the belligerent has secured the command of the sea; that is, as I shall show hereafter, that he has subdued, if not destroyed, the armed forces of the enemy afloat. Having done that he may, in a certain sense, take as much or as little of the war as he chooses; but he must always take as much as will compel the enemy to come to terms. Naval warfare is no essential part of the armed conflict between contending States. In some cases it exercises a decisive influence on the conduct and issue of the conflict, in others none at all or next to none. But sea power, that is, the advantage which a nation at war derives from its superiority at sea, may largely affect the issue of a war, even though no naval engagements of any moment may take place. In the Crimean War the unchallenged supremacy of England and France on the seas alone made it possible for the Allies to invade the Crimea and undertake the siege of Sebastopol; while the naval campaigns of the Allies in the Baltic, although they resulted in no decisive naval operation, yet largely contributed to the success of the Allied arms in the Crimea by compelling Russia to keep in the north large bodies of troops which might otherwise have turned the scale against the Allies in the South. In the War of 1859, between France and Austria, with the Sardinian kingdom allied to the former, the superiority of the Allies at sea enabled considerable portions of the French army to be transported from French to Piedmontese ports, and by threatening the flank of the Austrian line of advance, it accelerated the concentration of the Allies on the Ticino. It also enabled the Allies to maintain a close blockade of the Austrian ports in the Adriatic, and might have led to an attack from the sea on the Austrian rear in Venetia had not the military reverses of Austria in Lombardy brought the war to an end. In the War of Secession in America the issue was largely determined, or at least accelerated, by the close but not impenetrable blockade established by the North over the ports and coasts of the South, and by the co-operation of Farragut on the Mississippi with the Federal land forces in that region. On the other hand, in the War of 1866 there was no naval conflict worth mentioning between Austria and Prussia, because Prussia had no navy to speak of; but as Italy, a naval Power, was the ally of Prussia, and as Austria had a small but very efficient naval force led by a great naval commander, the conflict between these two Powers led to the Battle of Lissa, in which the Italian fleet was decisively defeated, though the triumph of Prussia over the armies of Austria saved Italy from the worst consequences of defeat, and indeed obtained for her, in spite of her military reverses on land, the coveted possession of Venetia. In the War of 1870 again, although the supremacy of France on the seas was never seriously challenged by Prussia, yet her collapse on land was so sudden and complete that her superiority at sea availed her little or nothing. The maritime trade of Prussia was annihilated for the time, but it was then too insignificant a factor in the economic fabric of Prussia for its destruction to count for much, and the fleets of France rode triumphant in the North Sea and the Baltic; but finding no ships to fight, having no troops to land, and giving a wide berth to fortifications with which they were ill-equipped--as ships always are and always must be--to contend without support from the military arm, their presence was little more than an idle and futile demonstration. In the Boer War the influence of England's unchallenged supremacy at sea, albeit latent, was decisive. The Boers had no naval force of any kind; but no nation not secure in its dominion of the seas could have undertaken such a war as England then had to wage, and it was perhaps only the paramount sea power of this country that prevented the conflict taking a form and assuming dimensions that would have taxed British endurance to the uttermost and must almost certainly have entailed the loss of South Africa to the Empire. Certain naval features of the Cuban War between Spain and the United States, and of the War in the Far East between Russia and Japan, will be more conveniently considered in subsequent chapters of this manual. The normal correlation and interdependence of naval and military forces in the armed conflict of national wills is sufficiently illustrated by the foregoing examples. In certain abnormal and exceptional cases each can act and produce the desired effect without the other. In a few extreme cases it is hard to see how either could act at all. If, for instance, Spain and Switzerland were to fall out, how could either attack the other? They have no common frontier, and though Spain has a navy, Switzerland has no seaboard. Cases where naval conflict alone has decided the issue are those of the early wars between England and Holland. Neither could reach the other except across the sea, there was no territorial issue directly involved, and the object of both combatants was to secure a monopoly of maritime commerce. But as territorial issues, and territorial issues involving the sea and affected by it directly or indirectly, are nearly always at stake in great wars, history affords few examples of great international conflicts in which sea power does not enter as a factor, often of supreme importance. It must of course enter as a factor of paramount importance in any war between an insular State and a continental one--as in the war between Russia and Japan--or between two continental States which--as in the war between Spain and the United States--have no common frontier on land. War being the armed conflict of national wills, it is manifest that the opposing wills cannot in cases such as these be brought into armed conflict unless one State or the other is in a position to operate on the sea. The first move in such a conflict must of necessity be made, by one belligerent or the other, on the sea. This involves the conception of "the command of the sea," and as this is the fundamental conception of naval warfare as such, our analysis of naval warfare must begin with an exposition of what is meant by the command of the sea. CHAPTER II THE COMMAND OF THE SEA We have seen that when two States go to war the primary object of each is to subdue and if possible to destroy the armed forces of the other. Until that is done either completely, or to such an extent as to induce the defeated belligerent to submit, the conflict of wills cannot be determined, and the two States cannot return to those normal relations, involving no violence or force, which constitute a state of peace. If they have a common frontier this circumstance indicates what is, as a general rule, the best and most efficient way of securing the object to be attained. The armed forces of both belligerents lie at the outset within their respective frontiers. If those of either can be constrained by the superior strategy of the other to keep within their own territory, the initial advantage lies with the belligerent who has so constrained them, and the war has in common parlance been carried into the enemy's country. In other words, the invasion of the enemy's territory has begun, and pressure has been brought to bear on his will which, if maintained without intermission and with an intensity duly proportioned to its growing extent, must in the end subdue it. To this there is no alternative. To invade the enemy's territory at all is to inflict a reverse on his armed forces, which would assuredly have prevented the invasion if they could. The territory in the rear of the invading army is in greater or less degree brought under the control of the invader and thereby temporarily lost to the invaded State. If this process is continued the authority and the resources of the invaded State are progressively diminished, until at last when the capital is occupied and the remainder of the invaded country lies open to the advance of the invader, the defeated State must sue for peace on such terms as the invader may concede, because it has nothing left to fight for, and no force wherewithal to fight. This is of course merely an abstract and generalized description of the course of a war on land, but I need not consider its concrete details nor analyse any of the conditions which may, and in the concrete often do, impede or deflect its course, because my sole purpose is to show how armed force operates in the abstract to subdue the will of the belligerent who is worsted in the conflict. It operates by the destruction of his armed forces, by the occupation of his territory, and by the consequent extinction of his authority and appropriation of his resources. He can only recover the latter and liberate his territory by submitting to such terms as the invader may dictate or concede. Naval warfare aims at the same primary object, namely, the destruction of the enemy's armed forces afloat; but it cannot by itself produce the same decisive effect, because there is no territory which naval force, as such, can occupy and appropriate. The sea is not territory. It is not nor can it be made subject to the authority of an enemy in the same sense that the land can, nor does it possess any resources in itself such as on the land can be appropriated to the disadvantage and ultimate discomfiture of a belligerent whose territory has been invaded. The sea is the common highway of all nations, and the exclusive possession of none. Apart from its fisheries, which, outside the territorial waters of any particular State, are open to all nations, it is of no use, except as a highway, to any State. But its use as a highway is the root of all sea power, the foundation of all naval warfare. It is only by this highway that an island State can be invaded, only by this highway that an island State, or a State having no common frontier with its adversary, can encounter and subdue the armed forces of the enemy, whether on sea or on land. Moreover, the sea as a highway differs in many important respects from such highways or other lines of communication as serve for the transit and transport of armed forces and their necessary supplies on land. In one sense it is all highway, that is, it can be traversed in every direction by ships, wherever there is water enough for them to float. For military purposes land transit is confined to such highways as are suitable to the march of an army accompanied by artillery and heavy baggage and supply trains, or to such railways as can more expeditiously serve the same purpose. Hence an army advancing in an enemy's country cannot advance on a very broad front, nor can it outmarch its baggage and other supplies except for a very limited time and for some exceptional purpose. Sea transport is subject to no such limitations. Ships carry their own supplies with them, and a fleet of ships, whether of transports or of warships, can move on as broad a front as is compatible with the exercise of due control over their combined movements. Moreover, within certain limits and with certain exceptions, where the waters to be traversed are narrow, ships and fleets can vary their line of transit and advance to such an extent as to render the discovery of their whereabouts a matter of some difficulty. The same conditions affect the transit of such merchant vessels as, carrying the flag of one belligerent, are liable to capture by the other. Hence the primary aim of all naval warfare is and must be so to control the lines of communication which traverse the seas affected, that the enemy cannot move his warships from one point to another without encountering a superior force of his adversary, and that his merchant ships cannot prosecute their voyages without running extreme risk of capture by the way. This is called, in time-honoured phraseology, securing the command of the sea, and the true meaning of this phrase is nothing more nor less than the effective control of all such maritime communications as are or can be affected by the operations of either belligerent. This control may extend, according to circumstances, to all the navigable seas of the globe, or it may be confined, for all practical purposes, to the waters adjacent to the respective territories of the two belligerents. In theory, however, its effect is unlimited, and so it must be in practice, where the territories of one belligerent or the other are widely scattered over the globe. That is the sense in which "the sea is all one." It is important to note that the phrase "command of the sea" has no definite meaning except in war. In time of peace no State claims to command the sea or to control it in any way. But in any war in which naval force is engaged each belligerent seeks to secure the command of the sea for himself and to deny it to his enemy, that is to close the highway which the sea affords in time of peace to his warships and his merchant vessels alike. As regards the enemy's warships, moreover, he seeks to secure his own command by their destruction or capture. This is not always possible, because if the naval forces of the two belligerents are very unequally matched, it is always open to the weaker of the two to decline the conflict by keeping his main fleets in ports unassailable by naval force alone, and seeking to reduce the superiority of his adversary by assailing him incessantly with torpedo craft. He may also attempt the hazardous enterprise of sending out isolated cruisers to prey upon his adversary's commerce afloat. But in the case supposed, where the superiority of one side is so great as to compel the main fleets of the other to seek the protection of their fortified ports, such an enterprise is, as I shall show in a subsequent chapter, not only extremely hazardous in itself, but quite incapable of inflicting such loss on the superior adversary as would be likely to induce him to abandon the conflict. Nevertheless the command of the sea is not established, or at best it is only partially, and it may be only temporarily, established by driving the main fleets of the enemy into ports which are inaccessible to naval force alone. They must not only be driven there but compelled to remain there. This has generally been done in the past, and according to many, but not all, naval authorities, it will generally have to be done in the future by the operation known as blockade, whereby the enemy is prevented from coming out, or is compelled if he does come out to fight a superior force lying in wait outside. As a matter of fact, inasmuch as a blockade to be really deterrent must be conducted by a blockading force superior to that which is blockaded--for otherwise the latter need not shun an engagement in the open with the former--it can rarely be the interest of the blockader to prevent the exit of his adversary, since by the hypothesis if he could get him out he could beat him. But the blockade must nevertheless be maintained, because, although the blockaded fleet cannot by that means be destroyed, it can, at any rate, be immobilized and wiped off the board so long as it remains where it is. The situation in which a blockade is set up by one belligerent and submitted to by the other is not identical with an effective command of the sea, though in certain circumstances it may approximate very closely to it. The blockaded forces may not be so thoroughly intimidated by the superior forces of the blockaders that they could not or would not, if they could, seek a favourable opportunity for breaking or evading the blockade imposed upon them. They may merely be waiting in a position unassailable by naval force alone until the blockading forces are so weakened through incessant torpedo attack, through the wear and tear inflicted on them by the nature of the service on which they are engaged, through stress of weather, through the periodical necessity which compels even the best found ships to withdraw temporarily from the blockade for the purposes of repair, refit, and replenishment of their stores, and through the fatigue imposed on their officers and crews by the incessant vigilance which a blockade requires as to afford them a favourable opportunity of challenging a decision in the open. Or, again, if the forces of the blockaded belligerent are distributed between two or more of his fortified ports, he may attempt an evasion of the blockade at two or more of them for the purpose of combining the forces thus liberated and attacking one or more of the blockading fleets in superior force before they can re-establish their own superiority by concentration. Broadly speaking, this was the plan of operations adopted, or rather attempted, by Napoleon in the memorable campaign which ended at Trafalgar. It was frustrated by the persistent energy of Nelson, by the masterly dispositions of Barham at the Admiralty, by the tenacity with which Cornwallis maintained the blockade at Brest, and by the instinctive sagacity with which other commanders of the several blockading and cruising squadrons nearly always did the right thing at the right moment, divined Barham's purpose, and carried it out almost automatically. Practically, Napoleon was beaten and his projected invasion of England was abandoned many weeks before Trafalgar was won. But the command of the sea was not thereby secured to England. It needed Trafalgar and the destruction of the French and Spanish Fleets there accomplished to effect that consummation. England thenceforth remained in effective and almost undisputed command of the sea, and the Peninsular campaigns of Wellington were for the first time rendered possible. The contrasted phases of the conflict before and after Trafalgar are perhaps the best illustration in history of the vast and vital difference between a command of the sea in dispute and a command of the sea established. Trafalgar was the turning-point in the long conflict between England and Napoleon. CHAPTER III DISPUTED COMMAND--BLOCKADE I have so far treated blockade as the initial stage of a struggle for the command of the sea. That appears to me to be the logical order of treatment, because when two naval Powers go to war it is almost certain that the stronger of the two will at the outset attempt to blockade the naval forces of the other. The same thing is likely to happen even if the two are approximately equal in naval force, but in that case the blockade is not likely to be of long duration, because both sides will be eager to obtain a decision in the open. The command of the sea is a matter of such vital moment to both sides that each must needs seek to obtain it as soon and as completely as possible, and the only certain way to obtain it is by the destruction of the armed forces of the enemy. The advantage of putting to sea first is in naval warfare the equivalent or counterpart of the advantage in land warfare of first crossing the enemy's frontier. If that advantage is pushed home and the enemy is still unready it must lead to a blockade. It is, moreover, quite possible that even if both belligerents are equally ready--I am here assuming them to be approximately equal in force--one or other, if not both, may think it better strategy to await developments before risking everything in an attempt to secure an immediate decision. In point of fact, the difference between this policy and the policy of a declared blockade is, as I am about to show, almost imperceptible, especially in modern conditions of naval warfare. It is therefore necessary to consider the subject of blockade more in detail. Other subjects closely associated with this will also have to be considered in some detail before we can grasp the full purport and extent of what is meant by the command of the sea. There are two kinds of blockade--military and commercial. The former includes the latter, but the latter does not necessarily involve the former, except in the sense that armed naval force is necessary to maintain it. By a commercial blockade a belligerent seeks to intercept the maritime commerce of the enemy, to prevent any vessels, whether enemy or neutral, from reaching his ports, and at the same time to prevent their egress to the same extent. This in certain circumstances may be a very effective agency for bending or breaking the enemy's will and compelling his submission, but I reserve its consideration for more detailed treatment hereafter. It is with military blockade that I am here more especially concerned. We have seen that the paramount purpose of all naval warfare, and, indeed, of all warfare, is the destruction of the armed forces of the enemy. His armed forces are in the last resort the sole instrument of his will, and their destruction to such an extent as is necessary to subdue his will is the sole agency by which peace can be restored. Whatever the extent of the war, whether it is limited or unlimited, in the sense assigned to those words by Clausewitz and his followers, the conflict of national wills out of which the quarrel arose must in some way be composed, either by concessions on both sides or by the complete subjection of one side to the other, before it can come to an end. It follows that the main object of a military blockade can rarely be to keep the enemy's forces sealed up, masked, and to that extent immobilized in the blockaded ports. Its real object is to secure that if they do come out they shall be observed, shadowed, and followed until such time as they can be encountered by a superior force, and if possible destroyed. The classical text on this topic is a letter written on August 1, 1804, by Nelson to the Lord Mayor of London, acknowledging a vote of thanks passed by the Corporation, and addressed to Nelson as commanding the fleet blockading Toulon. Nelson said in his reply: "I beg to inform your Lordship that the port of Toulon has never been blockaded by me: quite the reverse--every opportunity has been offered to the enemy to put to sea, for it is there that we hope to realize the hopes and expectations of our country, and I trust that they will not be disappointed." What Nelson here meant was that the so-called blockade of the port--it was a common, but, as he held, an erroneous expression--was merely incidental to the operation he was conducting. His main objective was the armed forces of the enemy lying unassailable within the blockaded port. He could not make them put to sea but he gave them every opportunity of doing so. So far from wishing to keep them in, his one desire was to get them out into the open, "for it is there that we hope to realize the hopes and expectations of our country"--that is to get a decision in favour of the British arms. Now, this being the object of a military blockade, its methods will be subordinated to that object. In the days of sailing ships the method which commended itself to the best naval authorities of the time was to have an inshore squadron, consisting mainly of frigates and smaller craft, but strengthened if necessary by a few capital ships, generally two-deckers, closely watching the entrance to the port, but keeping outside the range of its land defences. This was supported at a greater distance in the offing by the main blockading fleet of heavier ships of the line, cruising within narrow limits and keeping close touch with the inshore squadron. Such a method is no longer practicable owing to the development of steam navigation, and to the introduction into naval warfare of the locomotive torpedo, and of special vessels designed to make the attack of this weapon extremely formidable and extremely difficult to parry. The inshore squadron of the old days was liable to no attack which it could not parry if in sufficient force, and if too hardly pressed it could always fall back on the main blockading fleet, which was unassailable except by a corresponding force of the enemy. The advent of the torpedo and of its characteristic craft has changed all this. No naval Power can now afford to place its battleships at a fixed station, or even in close touch with a fixed rendezvous, which is within reach of an enemy's torpedo craft. The torpedo vessel which operates only on the surface is, it is true, formidable only at night; in the daytime it is powerless in attack and extremely vulnerable. But the submarine is equally formidable in the daytime, and its attack even in the daytime is far more insidious and difficult to parry than that of the surface torpedo vessel is at night. The effective range of the surface torpedo vessel is thus, for practical purposes, half the distance which it can traverse in any given direction from its base between dusk and dawn--say from one hundred to two hundred miles, according to its speed and the season of the year. The speed of the submarine is much less, but it can keep the sea for many days together, sinking beneath the surface whenever it is threatened with attack. It can also approach a battleship or fleet of battleships in the same submerged condition, and experience has already demonstrated that its advance in that condition to within striking distance is extremely difficult to detect. Moreover, even if its presence is detected in time, the only certain defence against it is for the battleship to steam away from it at a speed greater than any submarine has ever attained or is likely to attain in the submerged condition. It should further be noted that torpedo craft engaged in offensive operations of this character are not confined to the blockaded port as a base. Any sheltered anchorage will serve their purpose, provided it is sufficiently fortified to resist such attacks from the sea as may be anticipated. Thus, in the conditions established by the advent of the torpedo and its characteristic craft, there would seem to be only two alternatives open to a fleet of battleships engaged in blockade operations. Either it must be stationed in some sheltered anchorage outside the radius of action of the enemy's surface torpedo craft, and if within that radius adequately defended against torpedo attack--as Togo established a flying base for the use of his fleet, first at the Elliot Islands and afterwards at Dalny, for the purpose of blockading Port Arthur; or it must cruise in the open outside the same limits, keeping in touch with its advanced cruisers and flotillas by means of wireless telegraphy, and thereby dispensing with anything like a fixed rendezvous. It is not, perhaps, imperative that it should always cruise entirely outside the prescribed radius, because experience in modern naval manoeuvres has frequently shown that it is a very difficult thing for torpedo craft, moving at random, to discover a fleet which is constantly shifting its position at high speed, especially when they are at any moment liable to attack from cruisers and torpedo craft of the other side. Thus a modern blockade will, so far as battle fleets are concerned, be of necessity rather a watching blockade than a masking or sealing up blockade. If the two belligerents are unequal in naval strength it will probably take some such form as the following. The weaker belligerent will at the outset keep his battle fleet in his fortified ports. The stronger may do the same, but he will be under no such paramount inducement to do so. Both sides will, however, send out their torpedo craft and supporting cruisers with intent to do as much harm as they can to the armed forces of the enemy. If one belligerent can get his torpedo craft to sea before the enemy is ready, he will, if he is the stronger of the two, forthwith attempt to establish as close and sustained a watch of the ports sheltering the enemy's armed forces as may be practicable; if he is the weaker, he will attempt sporadic attacks on the ports of his adversary and on such of his warships as may be found in the open. If the enemy is so incautious as to have placed any of his capital ships or other important craft in a position open to the assault of torpedo craft--as Russia did at Port Arthur at the opening of the war with Japan--or if he has been so lacking in vigilance and forethought as not to have taken timely and adequate measures for meeting sporadic attacks of the kind indicated, such attacks may be very effective and may even go so far to redress the balance of naval strength as to encourage the originally weaker belligerent to seek a decision in the open. But the forces of the stronger belligerent must be very badly handled and disposed for anything of the kind to take place. The advantage of superior force is a tremendous one. If it is associated with energy, determination, initiative, and skill of disposition no more than equal to those of the assailant, it is overwhelming. The sea-keeping capacity, or what has been called the enduring mobility, of torpedo craft, is comparatively small. Their coal-supply is limited, especially when they are steaming at full speed, and they carry no very large reserve of torpedoes. They must, therefore, very frequently return to a base to replenish their supplies. The superior enemy is, it is true, subject to the same disabilities, but being superior he has more torpedo craft to spare and more cruisers to attack the torpedo craft of the enemy and their own escort of cruisers. When the raiding torpedo craft return to their base he will make it very difficult for them to get in and just as difficult for them to get out again. He will suffer losses, of course, for there is no superiority of force that will confer immunity in that respect in war. But even between equal forces, equally well led and handled, there is no reason to suppose that the losses of one side will be more than equal to those of the other; whereas if one side is appreciably superior to the other it is reasonable to suppose that it will inflict greater losses on the enemy than it suffers itself, while even if the losses are equal the residue of the stronger force will still be greater than that of the weaker. It is true that the whole art of war, whether on sea or on land, consists in so disposing your armed forces, both strategically and tactically, that you may be superior to the enemy at the critical point and moment, and that success in this supreme art is no inherent prerogative of the belligerent whose aggregate forces are superior to those of his adversary. But this is only to say that success in war is not an affair of numbers alone. It is an affair of numbers combined with hard fighting and skilful disposition. CHAPTER IV DISPUTED COMMAND--THE FLEET IN BEING We have seen that blockade is only a means to an end, that end being the destruction or surrender of the armed forces of the enemy. We have seen also that that end cannot be obtained by blockade alone. All that a military blockade can do is by a judicious disposition of superior force, either to prevent the enemy coming out at all, or to secure that if he does come out he shall be brought to action. The former method is only applicable where the blockader's superiority of force is so great that his adversary cannot venture at the outset to encounter his main fleets in the open, and in that case the establishment of a blockade of this character is for many purposes practically tantamount to securing the command of the sea to the blockader so long as the blockade can be maintained. Such a situation, however, can very rarely arise. There are very few instances of it in naval history, and there are likely to be fewer in the future than there have been in the past. The closest blockade ever established and maintained was that of Brest by Cornwallis from 1803 to 1805, when Napoleon was projecting the invasion of England. Yet it would be too much to say that during those strenuous years Ganteaume never could have got out, had he been so minded, and it is not to be forgotten that for some time during the crisis of the campaign he was forbidden by Napoleon to make the attempt. Moreover, such a situation, even when it does arise, amounts at best to a stalemate, not to a checkmate. It leaves the enemy's fleet "a fleet in being," immobilized and wiped off the board for the moment, but nevertheless so operating as to immobilize the blockading fleet in so far as the chief effort of the latter must be concentrated on maintaining the blockade. It is necessary to dwell at some length on this conception of "a fleet in being." Admiral Mahan, the great historian of sea power--whose high authority all students of naval warfare will readily acknowledge and rarely attempt to dispute--speaks of it in his _Life of Nelson_ as a doctrine or opinion which "has received extreme expression ... and apparently undergone extreme misconception." On the other hand, Admiral Sir Cyprian Bridge tells us in the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ (_s.v._ "Sea-Power") that "the principle of the 'fleet in being' lies at the bottom of all sound strategy." Of a principle which, according to one high authority, lies at the bottom of all sound strategy, and according to another has received extreme expression and undergone misconception equally extreme, it is plainly essential that a true conception should be obtained before it can be applied to the elucidation of any of the problems of naval warfare. Now what is this much-debated principle? It is best to go to the fountain-head for its elucidation. The phrase "a fleet in being" was first used by Arthur Herbert, Earl of Torrington, in his defence before the Court Martial which tried and acquitted him for his conduct of the naval campaign of 1690, and especially of the Battle of Beachy Head, which was the leading event--none too glorious for British arms--of that campaign. "Both as a strategist and as a tactician," says Admiral Bridge, "Torrington was immeasurably ahead of his contemporaries. The only English admirals who can be placed above him are Hawke and Nelson." Yet he was regarded by many of his contemporaries, and has been represented by many historians, merely as the incapable seaman who failed to win the Battle of Beachy Head, and thereby jeopardized the safety of the kingdom at a very critical time. The situation was as follows. The country was divided between the partisans of James II. and the supporters of William III. James was in Ireland, where his strength was greatest, and William had gone thither to encounter him, his transit having been covered by a small squadron of six men-of-war, under the command of Sir Cloudesley Shovel. The army was with William in Ireland, and Great Britain could only be defended on land by a hastily levied militia. Its sole effective defence was the fleet; and the fleet, although reinforced by a Dutch contingent, was, for the moment, insufficient to defend it. The chief reliance of James was upon the friendship and forces, naval and military, of Louis XIV. Here was a case in which the security of England against insurrection at home and invasion from abroad depended on the sufficiency and capacity of her fleets to maintain the command of the sea--that is, either to defeat the enemy's naval forces or to keep them at bay, and thereby to deny freedom of transit to any military forces that Louis might attempt to launch against British territory. The French king resolved to make a determined attempt to wrest the command of the sea from his adversaries, and by overpowering the allied fleets of England and Holland in the Channel, to open the way for a successful invasion and a successful insurrection to follow. A great fleet was collected at Brest, under the supreme command of Tourville, and a squadron from Toulon under Château-Renault was ordered to join him in the Channel, so as to enable him to threaten London, to foment a Jacobite insurrection in the capital, to land troops in Torbay, and to occupy the Irish Channel in such force as to prevent the return of William and his army. Now, of course, none of these objects could be attained unless the allied fleets in the Channel and adjacent waters could be either decisively defeated in the open or else so intimidated by the superior forces of the enemy as to decline a conflict and retire to some place of safety. On the broad principle that the paramount object of all warfare is the destruction of the armed forces of the enemy, Tourville, if he felt himself strong enough, was bound to seek out the allied fleet and challenge it to a decisive combat. On the same principle, Torrington, if he felt himself strong enough, was bound to pursue the same aggressive strategy, and by thoroughly beating the French to frustrate all their objects at once. But Torrington was not strong enough and knew that he was not strong enough. He had foreseen the crisis and warned his superiors betimes, entreating them to take adequate measures for dealing with it. They took no such measures. On the contrary, the dispositions they made were calculated rather to aggravate the danger than to avert it. Early in the year a fleet of sixteen sail of the line under Killigrew had been sent in charge of a convoy to Cadiz with orders to prevent, if possible, the exit of the Toulon fleet from the Mediterranean and to follow it up should it make good its escape. This strategy was unimpeachable if only Killigrew could make sure of intercepting Château-Renault and defeating him, and if the naval forces left in home waters when Killigrew was detached were sufficient to give a good account of the fleet that Tourville was collecting at Brest. But in its results it was disastrous, for Killigrew, delayed by weather and by the many preoccupations, commercial and strategic, entailed by his instructions was unable either to bar the passage of the Toulon fleet or to overtake it during its progress towards the Channel. Hence Château-Renault was able to effect his junction with Tourville unmolested, while Killigrew did not reach Plymouth until after the battle of Beachy Head had been fought, when, Tourville being victorious in the Channel, he was obliged to carry his squadron into the Hamoaze so as to be out of harm's way. Shovel, having escorted the king and his troops to Ireland, was equally unable to carry out his orders to join Torrington in the Channel, since Tourville stood in the way. Hence, although fully alive to the strategic value, in certain contingencies, of the forces under Killigrew and Shovel, Torrington was compelled to rely mainly on the force under his immediate command, the insufficiency of which he had many months before pointed out and vainly implored his superiors to redress. The result of all this was that no adequate steps were, or could be, taken, to prevent the advance of Tourville in greatly superior force into the Channel. Torrington hoisted his flag in the Downs at the end of May, and even then the Dutch contingent had not joined in the numbers promised. Hence it was impossible to keep scouts out to the westward as the Dutch had undertaken to do, and the first definite intelligence that Torrington received of the advance of the French was the information that on June 23 they were anchored in great force to the westward of the Isle of Wight. Three days later, having in the meanwhile received a Dutch reinforcement bringing his force up to fifty-five sail of the line and twenty fire-ships, he offered them battle in that position, but it was declined. His own comment on this hazardous adventure may here be quoted: "I do acknowledge my first intention of attacking them, a rashness that will admit of no better excuse than that, though I did believe them stronger than we are, I did not believe it to so great a degree.... Their great strength and caution have put soberer thoughts into my head, and have made me very heartily give God thanks they declined the battle yesterday; and indeed I shall not think myself very unhappy if I can get rid of them without fighting, unless it may be upon equaller terms than I can at present see any prospect of.... A council of war I called this morning unanimously agreed we are by all manner of means to shun fighting with them, especially if they have the wind of us; and retire, if we cannot avoid it otherwise, even to the Gunfleet, the only place we can with any manner of probability make our account good with them in the condition we are in. We have now had a pretty good view of their fleet, which consists of near, if not quite, eighty men-of-war fit to lie in a line and thirty fire-ships; a strength that puts me beside hopes of success, if we should fight, and really may not only endanger the losing of the fleet, but at least the quiet of our country too; for if we are beaten they, being absolute masters of the sea, will be at great liberty of doing many things they dare not attempt while we observe them and are in a possibility of joining Vice-Admiral Killigrew and our ships to the westward. If I find a possibility, I will get by them to the westward to join those ships; if not, I mean to follow the result of the council of war." The strategy here indicated is plain, and, in my judgment, sound. It may be profitably compared with that of Nelson as explained to his captains during his return from the West Indies whither he had pursued Villeneuve. Villeneuve was on his way back to European waters and Nelson hoped to overtake him. He had eleven ships of the line in his fleet and Villeneuve was known to have not less than eighteen. Yet, though Nelson did not shrink from an engagement on his own terms, he was resolved not to force one inopportunely. "Do not," he said to his captains, "imagine I am one of those hot-brained people who fight at immense disadvantage without an adequate object. My object is partly gained"--that is, Villeneuve had been driven out of the West Indies. "If we meet them we shall find them not less than eighteen, I rather think twenty, sail of the line, and therefore do not be surprised if I do not fall on them immediately; we won't part without a battle. I think they will be glad to leave me alone, if I will let them alone; which I will do, either till we approach the shores of Europe, or they give an advantage too tempting to be resisted." Torrington's attitude was the same as Nelson's, except perhaps that he lacked the ardent faith to say with Nelson, "We won't part without a battle." He would not think himself very unhappy if he could get rid of Tourville without a battle. But the situations of the two men were different. Nelson knew, as he said himself, that "by the time that the enemy has beat our fleet soundly, they will do us no harm this year." If, that is, by the sacrifice of eleven ships of his own he could wipe out eighteen or twenty of the enemy, destroying some and disabling as many as he could of the rest, he would leave the balance of naval force still strongly in favour of his country, more strongly in fact than if he fought no action at all. Torrington, on the other hand, knew that "if we are beaten they, being absolute masters of the sea, will be at great liberty of doing many things they dare not attempt while we observe them and are in a possibility of joining Vice-Admiral Killigrew and our ships to the westward." Killigrew and Shovel had twenty-two sail of the line between them, and Torrington, in the dispatch above quoted, had requested that they should be ordered to advance to Portsmouth, whence, if the French pursued him to the eastward, they might be able to join him "over the flats" of the Thames. As he had fifty-five sail of the line himself, with a possibility of reinforcements from Chatham, the concentration off the Thames of the whole of the forces available would have enabled him to encounter Tourville on something like equal terms; and from that, assuredly, he would not have shrunk. Meanwhile he would wait, watch, observe, and pursue a defensive strategy. If Tourville should withdraw to the westward he would follow him and get past him if he could, and in that case, having picked up Killigrew and Shovel, he would be in a position to take the offensive on no very unequal terms and not to part from Tourville without a battle. But the strategy of Torrington--admirable and unimpeachable as, according to such high authorities as Admiral Bridge and the late Admiral Colomb, it was--did not at all commend itself to Mary and her Council, who, during William's absence in Ireland, were left in charge of the kingdom. They wanted a battle, although Torrington had plainly told them that it could not be a victory and might result in a disastrous and even fatal defeat. "We apprehend," they said in a dispatch purporting to come from Mary herself, "the consequences of your retiring to the Gunfleet to be so fatal, that we choose rather you should, upon any advantage of the wind, give battle to the enemy than retreat further than is necessary to get an advantage upon the enemy." Torrington, of course, never intended to retire to the Gunfleet--which was an anchorage protected by sandbanks off the coast of Essex to the north of the Thames--if he could avoid doing so. But unless he went there, there was no advantage to be got upon the enemy by retreating to the eastward, because there alone could he get reinforcements from Chatham and possibly be joined by Killigrew and Shovel "over the flats"; which is what he meant by saying that the Gunfleet was "the only place we can with any manner of probability make our account with them in the position we are in." On the other hand, if the French gave him an opportunity he would, if he could, get past them to the westward and there join Killigrew and Shovel in a position of much greater advantage. But in his actual situation, not being one of "those hot-brained people who fight at immense disadvantage without an adequate object," he knew that a battle was the last thing which he ought to risk and the first that the French must desire. However, as a loyal seaman, who knew how to obey orders, he did as he was told. The French had pressed him as far as Beachy Head and there he gave battle, taking care so to fight as to risk as little as possible. He was beaten, as he expected to be, and the Dutch, who had been the most hotly engaged, were very severely handled by the French. But though his losses were considerable, for he had to destroy some of his ships to prevent their falling into the hands of the enemy, he saved his fleet from the destruction which must have befallen it had he fought otherwise than he did. As the day advanced and the battle raged, the wind dropped and the tide began to ebb. Torrington, taking advantage of this, anchored his fleet, while the French drifted away to the westward. When the tide again began to flow he again took advantage of it and retreated to the eastward. The French made some show of pursuit, but Torrington made good his retreat into the Thames, where, the buoys having been taken up, the French could not follow him. Finally, the French withdrew from the Channel, having accomplished nothing beyond an insignificant raid on Teignmouth. Torrington was tried by Court Martial and acquitted, though he was never again employed afloat. But the fact remains that, as Admiral Bridge says, "most seamen were at the time, have been since, and still are in agreement with Torrington." As to his conduct of the battle, which has so unjustly involved him in lasting discredit with the historians, though not with the seamen, he said in his defence before the Court Martial: "I may be bold to say that I have had time and cause enough to think of it, and that, upon my word, were the battle to be fought over again, I do not know how to mend it, under the same circumstances." Again, as to his general conduct of the campaign, he said: "It is true that the French made no great advantage of their victory though they put us to a great charge in keeping up the militia; but had I fought otherwise, our fleet had been totally lost, and the whole kingdom had lain open to an invasion. What, then, would have become of us in the absence of his Majesty and most of the land forces? As it was, most men were in fear that the French would invade; but I was always of another opinion; for I always said that, _whilst we had a fleet in being_, they would not dare to make an attempt." This is the first appearance of the phrase "a fleet in being" in the terminology of naval warfare. Its reappearance in our own day and its frequent employment in naval discussion are due to the masterly analysis of Torrington's strategy and tactics which the late Admiral Colomb gave in his illuminating work on _Naval Warfare_. In order to avoid giving it the extreme expression which, according to Admiral Mahan, it has received from some writers, and involving it in that extreme misconception which he thinks it has undergone at the hands of others--or it may be of the same--I have thought it worth while to examine at some length the campaign which gave rise to it so as to ascertain exactly what was in the mind of Torrington when he first used it. It is plain that Torrington held, as all great seamen have held, that the primary object of every belligerent is to destroy the armed forces of the enemy. He was so circumstanced that he could not do that himself, because the forces which might have been at his disposal for the purpose, had the circumstances been other than they were, were so divided and dispersed that the enemy might overcome them in detail. That the enemy would do this, if he could, he did not doubt, and it was equally certain that it must be his immediate object to prevent his doing it. His own force being by far the strongest of the three opposed to Tourville, it must be upon him that the brunt of the conflict would fall. Nothing would suit him better than that Tourville should turn back and attempt to force a battle on either Killigrew or Shovel to the westward, because in that case he could hang upon Tourville's rear and flanks and take any opportunity that offered to get past him and concentrate the British forces to the westward of him. But Tourville gave him no such opportunity. He pressed him hard and might have pressed him back even to the Gunfleet if Torrington had not been ordered by Mary and her advisers to give battle "upon any advantage of the wind." But even in fighting the battle, which his own judgment told him ought not to be fought, he never lost sight of the paramount necessity of so fighting it as to give Tourville no decisive advantage. The victory was a barren one to Tourville. It gave him no command of the sea and for that reason he was unable to prosecute any enterprise of invasion. The command of the sea remained in dispute, and unless the dispute could be decided in Tourville's favour he would have fought and won the battle of Beachy Head in vain, as the event showed that he did. Torrington held that his "fleet in being," even after the reverse at Beachy Head, was a sufficient bar to the further enterprises of Tourville, nor can Tourville's subsequent action be explained on any other hypothesis than that he shared Torrington's opinion and acted on it. The truth is, that the doctrine of the fleet in being, as understood and illustrated by Torrington, is in reality the counterpart and complement of the doctrine of the command of the sea as expounded above. "I consider," said the late Sir Geoffrey Hornby, a strategist and tactician of unrivalled authority in his time, "that I have command of the sea when I am able to tell my Government that they can move an expedition to any point without fear of interference from an enemy's fleet." This condition cannot be satisfied so long as the enemy has a fleet in being, that is a fleet strategically at large, not itself in command of the sea, but strong enough to deny that command to its adversary by strategic and tactical dispositions adapted to the circumstances of the case. Thus command of the sea and a fleet in being are mutually exclusive terms. So long as a hostile fleet is in being there is no command of the sea; so soon as the command of the sea is established there is no hostile fleet in being. Each of these propositions is the complement of the other. Nevertheless, the mere statement of these abstract propositions solves none of the concrete problems of naval warfare. War is not governed by phrases. It is governed by stern and inexorable realities. The question whether a particular fleet in any particular circumstances is or is not a fleet in being is not a question of theory, it is a question of fact. The answer to it depends on the spirit, purpose, tenacity, and strategic insight of those who control its movements. No fleet is a fleet in being unless inspired by what may be called the _animus pugnandi_, that is, unless, if and when the opportunity offers, it is prepared to strike a blow at all hazards. For this reason the Russian fleet in Sebastopol at the time of the invasion of the Crimea was not a fleet in being, although it had a splendid opportunity, which a Nelson would assuredly have found too tempting to be resisted, of showing its mettle when the French warships were employed as transports; and the allies might have been made to pay heavily for their neglect to blockade it had it been inspired by an effective _animus pugnandi_. On the other hand, the four ill-fated Spanish cruisers which crossed the Atlantic to take part in the Cuban war were a true fleet in being, however inferior and forlorn, and were so regarded by the United States authorities so long as they remained strategically at large. Even when two of them and two destroyers were known to be in Santiago, the Secretary of the United States Navy telegraphed to Admiral Sampson, "Essential to know if all four Spanish cruisers in Santiago. Military expedition must wait this information." The same thing happened in the war between Russia and Japan. The first act of Japan in that war was by a torpedo attack on the Russian fleet at Port Arthur, so to depress the _animus pugnandi_ of the latter as practically to deprive it for a time of the character of a fleet in being--a character which it only partially recovered afterwards under the brief influence of the heroic but ill-fated Makaroff. This being accomplished, the invasion of Manchuria ensued as a matter of course. The ascendency thus established by the Japanese fleet at the outset, though assailed more than once, was nevertheless maintained throughout the subsequent operations until the Russian fleet at Port Arthur, deprived of the little character it ever possessed as a true fleet in being, was reduced to the condition of what Admiral Mahan has aptly called a "fortress fleet," and was surrendered at the fall of the fortress. Many other illustrations of the principle of the fleet in being might be given. The history of naval warfare is full of them. But they need not be multiplied as they all point the same moral. That moral is, that a fleet in being to be of any use must be inspired by a determined and persistent _animus pugnandi_. It must not be a mere "fortress fleet." Torrington can never have imagined for a moment that the fleet which, in spite of the disastrous orders of Mary and her council, he had saved from destruction, would by its mere existence prevent a French invasion. He had kept it in being in order that he might use it offensively whenever occasion should arise, well knowing that so long as it maintained that disposition Tourville would be paralysed for offence. "Whilst we observe the French," he said, "they cannot make any attempt on ships or shore without running a great hazard." Such hazards may be run for an adequate object, and to determine rightly when they may be run and when they may not is perhaps the most searching test of a naval commander's capacity and insight. It is a psychological question rather than a strategic one. Such a commander must know whether his adversary's _animus pugnandi_ is so keen and so unflinching as to invest his fleet, albeit inferior, with the true character of a fleet in being, or whether, on the other hand, it is so feeble as to turn it into a mere fortress fleet. But that is only to say that in war the man always counts for far more than the machine, that the best commander is a man "with whom," as Admiral Mahan says of Nelson, "moral effect is never in excess of the facts of the case, whose imagination produces to him no paralysing picture of remote contingencies." _Bene ausus vana contemnere_, as Livy says of Alexander's conquest of Darius, is the eternal secret of successful war. CHAPTER V DISPUTED COMMAND IN GENERAL The condition of disputed command of the sea is the normal condition at the outbreak of any war in which operations at sea are involved between two belligerents of approximately equal strength, or indeed between any two belligerents, the weaker of whom is sufficiently inspired by the _animus pugnandi_--or it may be by other motives rather political than strategic in character--to try conclusions with his adversary in the open. This follows immediately from the nature of command of the sea, which is, it will be remembered, the effective control over the maritime communications of the waters in dispute. I must here repeat, that the phrase command of the sea has no definite meaning in time of peace. No nation nowadays seeks in time of peace to control maritime communications, that is, to exercise any authority or constraint over any ships, whether warships or merchant vessels--other than those flying its own flag--which traverse the seas on their lawful occasions. There was, indeed, a time when England claimed what was called the "sovereignty of the seas," that is, the right to exact at all times certain marks of deference to her flag, in the form of certain salutes of ceremony, from all ships traversing the seas surrounding the British Islands, the narrow seas as they were called. But that is an entirely different thing from the command of the sea in a strategic sense, and has in fact no connection with it. It has long been abandoned and it need only be mentioned here in order to be carefully distinguished from the latter. Any nation seeking to exercise or secure the command of the sea in this sense would in so doing engage in an act of war, and would be regarded as so engaging by any other nation whose rights and interests were in any way affected by the act. Hence the difference between the two is plain. The claim to the sovereignty of the seas and the exaction of the ceremonial observance--the lowering of a flag or a sail--which symbolized it, was not in itself an act of war, though it might lead to war if the claim were resisted. An attempt to assert or secure the command of the sea is, on the other hand, in itself an act of war and would never be made by any nation not prepared to take the consequence in the instant outbreak of hostilities. For what is it that a nation seeks to do when it attempts to exercise or secure the command of the sea? It seeks to do nothing more and nothing less than to deny freedom of access to the waters in dispute to the ships, whether warships or merchant ships, of some other nation. It denies the common right of highway, which is the essential attribute of the sea, to that other nation, and seeks to secure the monopoly of that right for itself. In other words, it seeks to drive its adversary's warships from the sea, and either by the capture of his merchant vessels to appropriate the wealth they contain or by destroying them to deprive the adversary of its enjoyment. This is all that naval warfare as such can do. If the enemy is not constrained by the destruction of his warships and the extinction of his maritime commerce to submit to his victorious adversary's will, other agencies, not exclusively naval in character, must be employed to bring about that consummation. This means that military force must be brought into operation, either for the invasion of the defeated adversary's territory or for the occupation of some of his possessions lying across the seas, if he has any. If he has none, or if such as he has are not worth taking or holding--either as a permanent possession or as what is called a material guarantee to be used in the subsequent negotiations for peace--then the only alternative is invasion. But that is a subject which demands a chapter to itself. It rarely happens, however, that a great naval Power is devoid of transmarine possessions altogether, or that such as it holds are esteemed by it to be of so little value or importance that their seizure by an enemy would leave matters _in statu quo_. Sea power is, as a rule, the outcome of a flourishing maritime commerce. Maritime commerce as it expands, tends, even apart from direct colonization, to bring territorial occupation in its train. The origin and history of the British rule in India is a signal illustration of this tendency. There are other causes of territorial expansion across the seas, as Admiral Mahan has pointed out in his latest work on _Naval Strategy_, but it is a rule which admits of no exceptions that territorial possessions across the seas, however they may have been acquired, compel the Power which holds them to develop a navy which, in the last resort, must be capable of defending them. It was not, indeed, the needs of maritime commerce which induced the United States to acquire Puerto Rico and the Philippines. Their acquisition was, as it were, a by-product of victorious sea power. But the vast expansion of the United States Navy which the last dozen years have witnessed is the direct result and the logical consequence of their acquisition. Applying these principles to the defence of the British Empire we see at once that the command of the sea, in the sense already defined, is essential to its successful prosecution. The case is not merely exceptional, it is absolutely unique. The British Isles might recover from the effects of a successful invasion, as other countries have done in like case. But the destruction of their maritime commerce would ruin them irretrievably, even if no invasion were undertaken. Half the maritime commerce of the world is carried on under the British flag. The whole of that commerce would be suppressed if an enemy once secured the command of the sea. The British Isles would be starved out in a few weeks. Whether an enemy so situated would decide to invade or invest--that is, so to impede our commerce that only an insignificant fraction of it could by evasion reach our ports--is a question not so much of strategy as of the economics of warfare. But really it hardly matters a pin which he decided to do. We should have to submit in either case. What would happen to our Dominions, Dependencies, and Colonies is plain. Those which are defenceless the enemy would seize if he thought it worth his while. In the case supposed they could obtain no military assistance from the mother-country. But those which could defend themselves he would have to overcome, if he could, by fighting. The great Dominions of the Empire would not fall into an enemy's lap merely because he had compelled the United Kingdom to sue for peace. To subdue them by force of arms would be a very formidable undertaking. Such are the tremendous effects of an adverse command of the sea on an insular kingdom and an oceanic empire, which carries on--not by virtue of any artificial monopoly, but solely by virtue of its hardly won ascendency in the economic struggle for existence--half the maritime commerce of the world. On the other hand, its effects on any nation which does not depend on the sea for its existence can never be so overwhelming and may even be insignificant. Germany was very little affected by the command of the sea enjoyed by France in the War of 1870. But in view of the enormous growth of German maritime commerce in recent years, a superiority of France at sea equal to that which she enjoyed in 1870 would now be a much more serious menace to Germany. In all such cases the issue must be decided by military operations suitable to the circumstances and the occasion--operations in which naval force may take an indispensable part even though it may not directly decide the issue. It was, for example, the United States army that captured Santiago and secured the deliverance of Cuba; but it was the United States Navy alone that enabled the troops to be in Cuba at all and to do what they did there. Again, in the war between Russia and Japan it was the capture of Port Arthur and the final overthrow at Tsu-Shima of all that remained of Russia's effective naval forces that induced Russia to entertain overtures for peace. But the reduction of Port Arthur was mainly the work of the military arm and the continued successes of the Japanese armies in Manchuria must have contributed largely to Russia's surrender. These successes were, it is true, rendered possible by the Japanese Navy alone. It cannot be said that the Japanese ever held the undisputed command of the sea until after Tsu-Shima had been fought and won. But at the very outset of the war they established such an ascendency over the Russian naval forces in Far Eastern waters that the latter were in the end reduced to something less than even a "fortress fleet." At Port Arthur, writes Admiral Mahan, the fleet was "neither a fortress fleet, for except the guns mounted from it, the fleet contributed nothing to the defence of the place; nor yet a fleet in being, for it was never used as such." Its _animus pugnandi_ was fatally depressed on the first night of the war, and finally extinguished after the action of August 10. The truth is, that in all the larger achievements of sea power--those, that is, to which a combination of naval and military force is indispensable--it is impossible to disengage the influence of one of these factors on the final issue from that of the other, and perhaps idle to attempt do to so. They act, as it were, like a chemical combination, not like the resultant of two separate but correlated mechanical forces, and their joint effect may be just as different from what might be the effect of either acting separately as water is different from the oxygen and hydrogen of which it is composed. But their operation in this wise can only begin after the command of the sea has been secured, or at least has been so far established as to reduce to a negligible quantity the risk of conducting military operations across seas of which the command is still nominally in dispute. Now there are several phases or stages in the enterprise of securing the command of the sea; but they all depend on the power and the will to fight for it. There is no absolute command of the sea, except in the case of hostilities between two belligerents, separated by the sea, one of whom has no naval force at all. The solitary case in history of this situation is that of the War in South Africa. A similar situation would arise if one of two belligerents had completely destroyed all the effective naval force of the other. But that is a situation of which history affords few, if any, examples. Between these two extremes lies the whole history of naval warfare. There is, moreover, one characteristic of naval warfare which has no exact counterpart in the conduct of military enterprises on land. This is the power which a naval belligerent has of withdrawing his sea-going force out of the reach of the sea-going force of the enemy by placing it in sheltered harbours too strongly fortified for the enemy to reduce by naval power alone. The only effective answer to this which the superior belligerent can make is, as has already been shown, to establish a blockade of the ports in question. This procedure is analogous to, but not identical with, the investment by military forces of a fortress in which an army has found shelter in the interior of the enemy's country. But the essential difference is that the land fortress can be completely invested so that no food or other supplies can reach it, whereas a sea fortress cannot, unless it is situated on a small island, be completely invested by naval force alone. In the one case, even if no assault is attempted, starvation must sooner or later bring about the surrender of the fortress together with any military force it contains, whereas in the other the blockaded port being, as a rule, in open communication with its own national territory, cannot be reduced by starvation. Moreover, for reasons already explained, a maritime fortress cannot nowadays be so closely blockaded as to prevent the exit of small craft almost at all times or even to prevent the exit of squadrons of battleships in circumstances favourable to the enterprise. Now the exit of small craft equipped for torpedo attack is a much more serious threat to the blockader than the exit of small craft, not so equipped, was in the old days of close blockade. In those days small craft could do no harm to ships of the line or even to frigates, whereas a torpedo craft is nowadays in certain circumstances the equal and more than the equal of a battleship. For these reasons the escape from a blockaded port of a squadron of battleships might easily be regarded by the blockading enemy as a less serious and even much more welcome incident of the campaign than the frequent issue of swarms of torpedo craft skilfully handled, daringly navigated, and sternly resolved to do or die in the attempt to reduce the battle superiority of the enemy. It follows from these premisses that a naval blockade--or a connected series of blockades--can never be regarded as equivalent to an established command of the sea. At its best it can only achieve a temporary command of the sea in a state of unstable and easily disturbed equilibrium. At its worst, that is when it is least close and least effective, and when the _animus pugnandi_ of the enemy is unimpaired and not to be intimidated, and is therefore ready at all times to take advantage of "an opportunity too tempting to be resisted," it amounts to a state of things in which the "fleet in being" becomes the dominant factor of the situation. It is mainly a psychological problem and scarcely a strategic problem at all to determine when the actual situation approximates to either of these extremes, and the principle embodied in the words _bene ausus vana contemnere_ is the key to the solution of this problem. If the blockaded fleet is merely a fortress fleet, or not even that, as was the Russian fleet at Port Arthur for some time after the first night of the war, and even more after the critical but indecisive conflict of August 10, then it is legitimate, as Togo triumphantly showed, to regard the situation so established as so far equivalent to a temporary command of the sea that military operations, involving the security of oversea transit and the continuity of oversea supply, might be undertaken with no greater risk than is always inseparable from a vigorous initiative in war. But had the Russian naval commanders been inspired--as, perhaps, the ill-fated Makaroff alone was--with a genuine _animus pugnandi_, they might have perceived that their one chance of bringing all the Japanese enterprises, naval and military, to nought, was by fighting Togo's fleet "to a frazzle," even if their own fleet perished in the conflict. Then the Baltic Fleet, if it had any fight in it at all, must have made short work of what remained of Togo's fleet, and the Japanese communications with Manchuria being thereby severed, Russia might have dictated her own terms of peace. The real lesson of that war is not that a true fleet in being can ever be safely neglected, but that a fleet which can be neglected with impunity is no true fleet in being. It should never be forgotten that the problems of naval warfare are essentially psychological and not mechanical in their nature. Their ultimate determining factors are not material and ponderable forces operating with measurable certainty, but those immaterial and imponderable forces of the human mind and will which can be measured by no standard other than the result. By the material standard so popular in these days, and withal so full of fallacy, Nelson should have been defeated at Trafalgar and Rozhdestvensky should have been victorious at Tsu-Shima. It is, of course, idle to press the doctrine of the command of the sea and the principle of the fleet in being so far as to affirm that no military enterprise of any kind can be prosecuted across the sea unless an unassailable command of the sea has first been established. Such a proposition is disallowed by the whole course of naval history, which is, in truth, for the most part, the history of the command of the sea remaining in dispute, often for long periods, between two belligerents, the balance inclining sometimes to one side and sometimes to the other, according to the fortune of war. The whole question is in the main one of degree and of circumstances. Broadly speaking, it may be said that the larger the military enterprise contemplated the more complete must be the command of the sea before it can be prosecuted with success and the more certain the assurance of its continuance in unimpaired efficiency until the objects of the enterprise are accomplished. Conversely, the strength, even if inferior, of the fleet in being, its strategic disposition, its tactical efficiency, and, above all, its _animus pugnandi_ must all be accurately gauged by a naval commander before he can safely decide that a military expedition of any magnitude can be undertaken without fear of interference from an enemy's fleet. It was the neglect of these principles that ruined the Athenian expedition to Syracuse. It was equally the neglect of the same principles that entailed the failure of Napoleon's expedition to Egypt and the ultimate surrender of the army he had deserted there. It was the politic recognition of them that, as Admiral Mahan has shown in a brilliant passage, compelled Hannibal to undertake the arduous passage of the Alps for the purpose of invading Italy instead of transporting his troops by sea. The limits of legitimate enterprise across seas of which the command although firmly gripped is not unassailably established, are perhaps best illustrated by the story of Craig's expedition to Malta and Sicily towards the close of the Trafalgar campaign. This remarkable episode, which has received less attention than it deserves from most historians, has been represented by Mr Julian Corbett in his instructive work on _The Campaign of Trafalgar_ as the masterly offensive stroke by which Pitt hoped to abate, and, if it might be, to overthrow the military ascendency which Napoleon had established in Europe. That view has not been universally accepted by Mr Corbett's critics, but the episode is entitled to close attention for the light it throws on the central problem of naval warfare. Pitt had concluded a treaty with Russia, which involved not merely naval but military co-operation with that Power in the Mediterranean. Craig's expedition was the shape which the military co-operation was to take. It consisted of some five thousand troops, and when it embarked in April 1805 it was convoyed by only two ships of the line in its transit over seas which, for all the Government which dispatched it knew, might be infested at the time by more than one fleet of the enemy. Here, then, is a case in which the doctrine of the command of the sea and the principle of the fleet in being might seem to be violated in a crucial fashion. But the men who directed the arms of England in those days knew what they were about. Long before they allowed the expedition to start they had established a close and, as they thought, an effective blockade of all the Atlantic and Mediterranean ports in which either French or Spanish warships ready for sea were to be found. Nevertheless we have here a signal illustration of the essential difference between a command of the sea which has been made absolute by the destruction of the enemy's available naval forces--as was practically the case after Trafalgar--and one which is only virtual and potential, because, although the enemy's fleets have for the time been masked or sealed up in their ports, they may, should the fortune of war so determine, resume at any time the position and functions of a true fleet in being. On the strength of a command of the sea of this merely contingent and potential character Pitt and his naval advisers had persuaded themselves that the way to the Mediterranean was open for the transit of troops. Craig's transports, accordingly, put to sea on April 19. But a week before Villeneuve with his fleet had left Toulon for the last time, had evaded Nelson's watch, and passing rapidly through the Straits, had called off Cadiz, and picking up such Spanish ships as were there had disappeared into space, no man knowing whither he had gone. He might have gone to the East Indies, he might have gone to the West Indies, as in fact he did, or he might be cruising unmolested in waters where he could hardly fail to come across Craig's transports with their weak escort of two ships of the line. It was a situation which no one had foreseen or regarded as more than a contingency too remote to be guarded against when Craig's expedition was allowed to start. How Nelson viewed the situation may be seen from his reply to the Admiralty, written on his receipt of the first intimation that the expedition was about to start. "As the 'Fisgard' sailed from Gibraltar on the 9th instant, two hours after the enemy's fleet from Toulon had passed the Straits, I have to hope she would arrive time enough in the Channel to give their Lordships information of this circumstance _and to prevent the Rear-Admiral and Troops before mentioned_"--that is Craig's expedition--"_from leaving Spithead_." In other words, Nelson held quite plainly that had the Admiralty known that Villeneuve was at sea outside the Straits they would not have allowed Craig to start. That Nelson was right in this assumption is proved by the fact that acting on the inspiration of Barham--perhaps the greatest strategist that ever presided at Whitehall--the Admiralty, as soon as they had grasped the situation, sent orders to Calder off Ferrol, that if he came in contact with the expedition he was to send it back to Plymouth or Cork under cruiser escort and retain the two ships of the line which had so far escorted it under his own command. The fact was that if Craig's expedition once passed Finisterre it would find itself totally without the naval protection on which the Admiralty relied when it was dispatched. Villeneuve was outside the Straits no one knew where, and had been reinforced by the Spanish ships from Cadiz. Nelson, whose exact whereabouts was equally unknown to the Admiralty, was detained in the Mediterranean by baffling winds and also by the necessity of making sure before quitting his station that Villeneuve had not gone to the Levant. Orde, who had been blockading Cadiz with a weak squadron which had to retire on Villeneuve's approach, had convinced himself, on grounds not without cogency, that Villeneuve was making for the northward, and had, quite correctly on this hypothesis, fallen back on the fleet blockading Brest, being ignorant of the peril to which Craig was exposed. Thus Craig's expedition seemed to be going straight to its doom unless Calder could intercept it and give it orders to return. However, Craig and Knight, whose flag flew in one of the ships of the line escorting the expedition, passed Finisterre without communicating with Calder, and having by this time got wind of their peril, they hurried into Lisbon, there to await developments in comparative safety, though their presence caused great embarrassment to the Portuguese Government and raised a diplomatic storm. It was not until Craig and Knight had ascertained that Villeneuve was out of the way and that Nelson had passed the Straits that they put to sea again and met Nelson off Cape St Vincent. Nelson had by this time satisfied himself, after an exhaustive survey of the situation, that Villeneuve had gone to the West Indies, and resolved to follow him there as soon as he had sped the expedition on its appointed way. But so apprehensive was he of the Spanish ships remaining at Carthagena, that, inferior to Villeneuve as he was, he detached the "Royal Sovereign" from his own squadron, and placed her under Knight's command. It only remains to add that the expedition reached its destination in safety and that its result was the Battle of Maida, fought in the following year--the first battle in which Napoleon's troops crossed bayonets with British infantry and were beaten by an inferior force. The expedition was also the indirect cause of the Battle of Trafalgar itself, for it was in order to frustrate the coalition with Russia of which it was the instrument that Napoleon had ordered Villeneuve to make for the Mediterranean when he finally left Cadiz to encounter Nelson on his path. Thus was it, as Mr Corbett says, "to prove the insidious drop of poison--the little sting--that was to infect Napoleon's empire with decay and to force his hand with so tremendous a result." Yet it very nearly miscarried at the outset. Nelson and Barham--between them a combination of warlike energy and strategic insight, without a parallel in the history of naval warfare--both realized the tremendous risks it ran. It may be argued that had Villeneuve gone to the north he would have found himself in the thick of British squadrons closing in on Brest and vastly superior in force. Yet Allemand, who had escaped a few weeks later from Rochefort, was able to cruise in these very waters for over five months without being brought to book. It is true that the destruction or capture of five thousand British troops would not seriously have affected the larger issues of the naval campaign, but it would have broken up the coalition with Russia by which Pitt set so much store, and which Mr Corbett at any rate represents as having exercised a decisive influence on the ultimate fortunes of Napoleon. The moral of the whole story seems to be that competent strategists--for the world has known none more competent and none more intrepid than Nelson and Barham--will not risk even a minor expedition at sea unless its line of advance is sufficiently controlled by superior naval force to ensure its unmolested transit. The principle thus exhibited in the case of a minor expedition manifestly applies with immensely increased force to those larger expeditions which assume the dimensions of an invasion. It was not until long after Trafalgar had been fought, and the command of the sea had been secured beyond the possibility of challenge, that the campaigns in the Peninsula were undertaken--campaigns which ended and were always intended to end, should the fortune of war so decree, in the invasion of France and the overthrow of Napoleon. This opens up the whole question of invasion, which will be discussed in the next chapter. CHAPTER VI INVASION England has not been invaded since A.D. 1066, when, the country having no fleet in being, William the Conqueror effected a landing and subjugated the kingdom. During the eight centuries and more that have since elapsed, every country in Europe has been invaded and its capital occupied, in many cases more than once. It is by no means for lack of attempts to invade her that England has been spared the calamity of invasion for more than eight hundred years. It is not because she has had at all times--it may indeed be doubted if she has had at any time--organized military force sufficient to repel an invader, if he could not be stopped at sea. It is because she can only be invaded across the sea, and because whenever the attempt has been made she has always had naval force sufficient to bring the enterprise to nought. It is merely a truism to say that the invasion of hostile territory across the sea is a much more difficult and hazardous enterprise than the crossing of a land frontier by organized military force. But it is no truism to say that the reason why it is so much more difficult and more hazardous is that there is no real parallel between the two cases. I assume a vigorous defensive on the part of the adversary assailed in both cases--a defensive which, though commonly so called, is really offensive in its nature. The essential difference lies in this, that two countries which are separated by the sea have no common frontier. Each has its own frontier at the limit of its territorial waters, but between these two there lies a region common to both and from which neither can be excluded except by the superior naval force of the other. For the moment an expeditionary force emerges from its own territorial waters--which may be any distance from a few miles up to many thousands of miles from the territorial waters of the adversary to be assailed--it must be prepared to defend itself, and naval force alone can afford it an adequate measure of defence. Military forces embarked in transports are defenceless and practically unarmed. They cannot defend themselves with their own arms, nor can the transports which carry them be so armed as to afford adequate defence against the smallest warship afloat, least of all against torpedo craft. Hence, unless the sea to be traversed has been cleared of the naval forces of the enemy beforehand, the invading military force must be covered by a naval force sufficient to overcome any naval force which the enemy is able to bring against it. If the latter can bring a fleet--as he must be able to do if the invasion is to be prevented--the covering fleet must be able to beat any fleet that he can bring. That condition being satisfied, however, it is clear that the covering fleet must be terribly hampered and handicapped in the ensuing conflict by the presence of a huge and unwieldy assemblage of unarmed transports filled with disarmed men, and by the consequent necessity of defending it against the attack of those portions of the enemy's naval force to which, albeit not suitable for engaging in the principal conflict, the transports would offer an otherwise defenceless prey. Hence the escorting fleet must be stronger than its adversary in a far larger proportion than it need be if naval issues pure and simple were alone at stake--so strong indeed that, if the transports were out of the way, its victory might be taken as certain. But if that is so it is manifest that the prospects of successful invasion would be immeasurably improved by seeking to decide the naval issue first--as Tourville very properly did in the Beachy Head campaign--and keeping the transports in hand and in port until it had been decided in favour of the intending invader. This is the eternal dilemma of invasion across a sea of which the command has not previously been secured. If you are not strong enough to dispose of the enemy's naval force you are certainly not strong enough to escort an invading force--itself helpless afloat--across the sea in his teeth. If you are strong enough to do this you will certainly be wise to beat him first, because then there will be nothing left to prevent the transit of your troops. In other words, command of the sea, if not absolutely and in all cases indispensable to a successful invasion, is at any rate the only certain way of ensuring its success. Naval history from first to last is full of illustrations of the principles here expounded. I will examine one or two of them, and I must take my illustrations mainly from the naval history of Britain, first, because Britain, being an island, is the only country in Europe which cannot be invaded except across the sea, and secondly, because Britain for that very reason has often been subjected to attempts at invasion and has always frustrated them by denying to her adversary that sufficiency of sea control which, if history is any guide, is essential to successful invasion. But first I will examine two cases which might at first sight seem to militate against the principles I have enunciated. The brilliant campaign of Cæsar which ended in the overthrow of Pompey and his cause at Pharsalus, was opened by Cæsar's desperate venture of carrying his army across the Adriatic to the coast of Epirus, although Pompey's fleet was in full command of the waters traversed. This is one of those exceptions which may be said to prove the rule. Cæsar had no alternative. Pompey was in Illyria, and if Cæsar could not overthrow Pompey on that side of the Adriatic it was certain that Pompey would overthrow Cæsar on the other side. For this reason, and perhaps for this reason alone, Cæsar was compelled to undertake a venture which he must have known to be desperate. How desperate it was is shown by the fact that, not having transports enough to carry more than half his army at once, he had to send his transports back as soon as he had landed, and they were all destroyed on their way back to Brundusium. Antony his lieutenant did, indeed, succeed after a time in getting the remainder of his army across, but not before Cæsar had been reduced to the utmost straits. The whole enterprise moreover was not, strictly speaking, an invasion of hostile territory. The inhabitants of the territory occupied by both combatants were neutral as between them, and were willing to furnish Cæsar with such scanty supplies as they had. Again, an army in those days needed no ammunition except the sword which each soldier carried on his person, and that kind of ammunition was not expended in fighting. Hence Cæsar had no occasion to concern himself with the security of his communications across the sea--a consideration which weighs with overwhelming force on the commander of a modern oversea expedition. "A modern army," as the late Lord Wolseley said, "is such a complicated organism that any interruption in the line of communications tends to break up and destroy its very life." An army marches on its belly. If it cannot be fed it cannot fight. After the Battle of Talavera Wellington was so paralysed by the failure of the Spanish authorities to supply his troops with food that he had to abandon the offensive for a time and to retreat towards his own line of communication with the sea. Cæsar on the other hand abandoned the sea, which could not feed him, and trusted to the resources of the country. The difference is vital. The one risk that Cæsar ran was the destruction of his army afloat, and that he ran not because he chose but because he must. The risk of destruction on land he was prepared to run, and this, at any rate, was, as the event proved, a case of _bene ausus vana contemnere_. Again, Napoleon's descent on Egypt is another exception which proves the rule, and proves it still more conclusively. Napoleon evaded Nelson's fleet and landed his army in Egypt. The army so landed left Egypt in British transports, having laid down its arms and surrendered just before the conclusion of the Peace of Amiens; and but for the timely conclusion of that short-lived armistice, every French soldier who survived the Egyptian campaign might have seen the inside of a British prison. This was because Napoleon, who never fathomed the secrets of the sea, chose to think that to evade a hostile fleet was the same thing as to defeat it. He managed for a time to escape Nelson's attentions by the skin of his teeth, and fondly fancied that because he had done so the dominion of the East was won. He was quickly undeceived by the Battle of the Nile. That victory destroyed the fleet which had escorted his army to Egypt and thereby made it impossible for the army ever to return except by consent of the Power which he never could vanquish on the sea. The Battle of the Nile, wrote a Frenchman in Egypt, "is a calamity which leaves us here as children totally lost to the mother country. Nothing but peace can restore us to her." Nothing but the so-called Peace of Amiens did restore them. If it be argued, as it often has been, that Napoleon's successful descent on Egypt proves that military enterprises of large moment may sometimes be undertaken without first securing the command of the sea to be traversed, surely the Battle of the Nile and its sequel are a triumphant refutation of such an argument. Such enterprises are merely a roundabout way of presenting the belligerent who retains the command of the sea with as many prisoners of war as survive from the original expedition. I need not labour the point which the unbroken testimony of history from the time of the Norman Conquest has established, that all attempts to invade England have been made in the past and must be made in the future across a sea not commanded by the intending invader. If he has secured the command of the sea beforehand, there is nothing to prevent the invasion except the consideration that he can attain his end--that is, the subjugation of the nation's will--at less cost to himself. That being premised, let us consider how the intending invader will set about his task. There are three ways, and three ways only. First, he may seek to overpower the British naval defence on the seas, that is to obtain the command of the sea. If he can do that, the whole thing is done. Or secondly, he may collect the military forces destined for the invasion in ports suitable for the purpose, and when all is ready he may cover their embarkation and transit by a naval force sufficient to overcome any naval force which this country can direct against it. I have already shown, however, that a force sufficient to do this with any certainty, or even with any reasonable prospect of success, must needs be more than sufficient to overpower the British naval defence and thereby to secure the command of the sea, if the enemy were freed from the entangling and wellnigh disabling necessity of providing for the safe conduct of an unwieldy host of otherwise defenceless transports. In other words he is putting the cart before the horse, a procedure which has never yet succeeded in getting the cart to its destination. This second alternative is then merely a clumsy and extremely inefficient way of attaining the same end as the first, and need only be mentioned in order to exclude it from further consideration. There remains only a third alternative. This is to assemble the invading military force at suitable ports as before, and to attempt to engage the attention of the defending naval force by operations at a distance for a time sufficient to secure the unmolested transit of the military expedition. This is the method which has nearly always been employed by an enemy projecting an invasion of this country. It has never yet succeeded, because it always leads in the end to a situation which is practically indistinguishable from that involved in the second alternative, which I have already discussed and excluded. The naval and the military elements in the enterprise of invasion being now, by the hypothesis, separated in space and for that reason incapable of being very exactly combined in time, a whole series of highly indeterminate factors is thereby introduced into the problem to be solved by the invader. There are elements of naval force, to wit, all manner of small craft, which are not required for the main conflict of fleets--and it is this conflict which alone can secure the command of the sea--but which are eminently adapted for the impeachment and destruction of unarmed transports. These will be employed in the blockade of the ports in which the military forces are collecting. If the assailant employs similar craft to drive the blockaders away, the defender will bring up larger craft to stiffen his blockading flotillas. The invading force will therefore still be impeded and impeached. The process thus goes on until, if it is not otherwise decided by the conflict of the main fleets at a distance, the contending naval forces of both sides are attracted to the scene of the proposed embarkation, there to fight it out in the conditions involved in the second alternative considered above, conditions which I have already shown to be the least favourable to the would-be invader. In a masterly analysis Mr Julian Corbett has shown that the British defence against a threatened invasion has always been conducted on these lines, that the primary objective of the defence has been the troops and their transports, and that the vigorous pursuit of this objective has always resulted in a decision being obtained as between the main fleets of the two belligerents. That the decision has always been in favour of the British arms is at once a lesson and a warning--a lesson that immunity from invasion can only be ensured by superiority at sea, a warning that such superiority can only be secured by the adequate preparation, the judicious disposition, and the skilful handling of the naval forces to be employed, as well as by an unflinching _animus pugnandi_. But no nation which goes to war can hope for more or be content with less than the opportunity of obtaining a decision in these conditions. The issue lies on the knees of the gods. A few illustrations may here be cited. We have seen how in the Beachy Head campaign Tourville, having failed to force a decision on Torrington's fleet in being, could not turn aside with Torrington at his heels and Killigrew and Shovel on his flank to bring over an invading force from France. He was paralysed by that abiding characteristic of French naval strategy which impelled the French naval commanders to fix their eye on ulterior objects and blinded them to the fact that the best way to attain those objects was to destroy the naval forces of the enemy whenever the opportunity offered of so obtaining a decision. Hence their preference for the leeward position in action, their constant reluctance to fight a decisive action, their habitual direction of their fire at the masts and sails of the enemy rather than at his hulls, and in Tourville's case his failure to annihilate Torrington's fleet in being, resulting in the total miscarriage of the schemes for invasion, to be followed by internal insurrection, which, as Admiral Colomb has shown, were the kernel of the French plan of campaign. In the case of the Armada in the previous century, the task of invasion was entrusted to Parma, who had collected troops for the purpose, and vessels for their transport, in the ports of the Spanish Netherlands. But Justin of Nassau kept a close watch outside, and Parma could not move. He summoned Medina Sidonia with the Armada to his assistance, but he summoned him in vain, for the Armada, harassed throughout the Channel, and, as it were, smoked out of Calais, was finally shattered at Gravelines. Precisely the same thing happened in the eighteenth century during the Seven Years' War. Troops and transports were being collected in the Morbihan, but their exit was blocked by a British naval force stationed off the ports. Conflans with the French main fleet was at Brest, and there he was blockaded by Hawke. Evading the blockade, Conflans put to sea and straightway went to release the troops and transports, hopelessly blockaded in the Morbihan. But Hawke swooped down on him and destroyed him in Quiberon Bay, Boscawen having previously destroyed at Lagos the fleet which De La Clue was bringing from Toulon to effect a junction with Conflans. One more illustration may be cited, and I will treat it at some length, because it presents certain features which give it peculiar significance in relation to current controversies. This is the projected invasion of England by France in 1744. It is, so far as I know, the solitary instance in our naval history which shows the enemy framing his plans on the lines of what is now known as "a bolt from the blue"--that is, he projected a surprise invasion, at a time when the two countries were nominally at peace, in the hope that the first overt act of the war he was contemplating might be the landing of his troops on British soil. In 1743, when this project was conceived, England and France were, as I have said, nominally at peace, but troops belonging to both had fought at Dettingen, not in any direct quarrel of their own, but because England was supporting Maria Theresa and France was supporting her enemies. The fleets of both Powers were jealously watching each other in the Mediterranean, a situation which led early in 1744 to the too notorious action of Mathews off Toulon. Nevertheless, until the very end of 1743 no direct conflict with France was anticipated by the English Government. Yet France was already secretly preparing her "bolt from the blue." She had resolved to support the Pretender's cause and to prepare an invasion of England in which the Pretender's son was to take part, and on landing in England to rally his party to the overthrow of the Hanoverian dynasty. The bolt was to be launched from Dunkirk and directed at the Thames, the intention being to land the invading force at Blackwall. Some ten thousand French troops to be employed in the expedition were sent into winter-quarters in and around Dunkirk, but this aroused no suspicion in England, because this region was the natural place for the left flank of the French army to winter in, and Dunkirk contained no transports at the time. Transports were, however, being taken up under false charter-parties at French ports on the Atlantic and in the Channel, and were ordered as soon as ready to rendezvous secretly and separately at Dunkirk. At first the intention was for the expeditionary force to make its attempt without any support from the French fleet. But Marshal Saxe, who was to command it and knew that the Thames and its adjacent waters were never denuded of naval force sufficient to make short work of a fleet of unarmed transports, flatly declined to entertain this project and demanded adequate naval support for the enterprise. Accordingly a powerful fleet, held to be sufficient to contain or defeat any British fleet that was thought likely to be able to challenge it, was fitted out with all secrecy at Brest and placed under the command of De Roquefeuil. Even he was not told its destination, and false rumours on the subject were allowed to circulate among those who were concerned in its preparation. So far everything seemed to be going well. The blow was timed for the first week in January, but the usual delays occurred, and for a month or more after the date originally fixed, the expeditionary force and its escort were separated by the whole length of northern France. Yet even before the date originally fixed, England had got wind of the preparations. From the middle of December Brest had been kept under watch, and orders had been issued to the dockyards to prepare for sea as many ships of the line as were available. These preparations were continued, without intermission, until the end of January, the purpose and destination of the armament at Brest still being unknown. Then two alarming pieces of intelligence reached England at the same time. One was that Roquefeuil had put to sea on January 26 (O.S.) with twenty-one sail of the line, and before being lost sight of by the British cruiser told off to watch him, had been seen to be clearly standing to the northward. The other was that Prince Charles, the son of the Pretender, had left Rome and had landed without hindrance in France. This, being a direct violation of the Treaty of Utrecht, was naturally held to give to the sailing of the Brest fleet the complexion of a direct hostile intent. It was on February 1 that these facts were known, and on February 2, Sir John Norris, a veteran of Barfleur and La Hogue, who was now well over eighty years of age, but as the event showed was still fully equal to the task entrusted to him, was ordered to hoist his flag at Portsmouth and to "take the most effectual measures to prevent the making of any descent on the Kingdoms." Norris hoisted his flag on the 6th, and by the 18th he had eighteen sail of the line under his command. Subsequently his force was increased to twenty. Nothing was known of the movements of the French fleet since January 29, when the frigate set to watch it had finally lost sight of it. It was in fact still off the mouth of the Channel, baffled by adverse winds and gales and vainly seeking to make headway against them. If it had gone to the Mediterranean, Mathews off Toulon would be placed in grave jeopardy, and there were some projects for detaching a powerful squadron of Norris's ships to his support. If, on the other hand, it was aiming at the Channel, Norris with his whole force would be none too strong to encounter and defeat it. This was Norris's dilemma, and it was not until February 9 that he learned from the Duke of Newcastle that an embargo had been laid on all shipping at Dunkirk, where some fifty vessels of one hundred and fifty to two hundred tons had by this time assembled. These might at a pinch and for a short transit be estimated to be capable of transporting some ten thousand troops. But an embargo, although clear proof of hostile intent, was not necessarily a sign of impending invasion. It was a common expedient, preliminary to war, whereby you deprived your enemy of ships and men very necessary to his purposes and secured ships and men equally necessary to your own. Hence no strategic connexion could with any certainty be held to exist between the embargo at Dunkirk and the sailing of the French fleet from Brest. On the other hand it was clearly dangerous to uncover the Channel so long as the destination of the Brest fleet was unknown, and, although Newcastle had suggested to Norris that he should divide his fleet and send the major part of it to reinforce Mathews in the Mediterranean, yet Norris strongly demurred to the suggestion, and before the time came to act on it the situation had so far developed as to disallow it altogether. On February 11, Norris received information that a French fleet of at least sixteen sail of the line had been seen the day before off the Start. This convinced him that the French had some scheme to the eastward in hand; and as he had frigates watching the Channel between the Isle of Wight and Cape Barfleur he was equally convinced that the French had so far no appreciable armed force to the eastward of him. Newcastle, however, did not share this conviction. He had received numerous reports of movements of French ships in the Channel to the eastward of the Isle of Wight and other information which pointed to a concentration at Dunkirk. As a matter of fact no French men-of-war were at this time east of the Isle of Wight, and the vessels reported to Newcastle must have been transports making for Dunkirk and magnified into ships of the line by the fog of war. Newcastle, accordingly, ordered Norris to go forthwith to the Downs. Foul winds prevented Norris from sailing at once from St Helen's, and on the 13th, the day before he did sail, he received further information which confirmed his conviction that the French were still to the westward. But Newcastle's orders remained peremptory, and on the 14th he sailed with eighteen ships, and anchored in the Downs on the 17th. There he found two more ships awaiting him, while two others were on their way to join him from Plymouth. I pause here for a moment to point out that Norris's desire, over-ruled by Newcastle, to remain at Portsmouth was thoroughly well advised. He knew that there was naval force enough in the Thames and the Downs to dispose of any expedition coming from Dunkirk unless it were escorted by the Brest fleet, or by a very considerable detachment therefrom. He was well assured that no such detachment could have eluded the vigilance of his frigates, and he felt that in these circumstances he could better impeach Roquefeuil by lying in wait for him at Spithead or St Helen's than by preceding him to the Downs. How right he was in this appreciation will be seen from a closer consideration of the movements of the French fleet. It was not until February 13 that Roquefeuil received his final orders off the Start. He was directed to detach De Baraille, his second in command, with five ships. These were to go forthwith to Dunkirk and escort Saxe's expedition, while he himself with the remainder of his fleet was to blockade Norris at Portsmouth and defeat him if he could. But Roquefeuil and his council of war found these orders too hazardous for execution. They resolved not to divide the fleet until at least Norris, presumed to be at Portsmouth, had been disposed of. On the 17th, the day on which Norris had anchored in the Downs, they looked into Spithead and persuaded themselves that they had seen Norris there with eleven sail of the line. Judging that the weather was too bad for a successful blockade, Roquefeuil then passed on up the Channel, convinced that Norris was now behind him with too weak a force to be of any effect. Baraille was then sent on with his detachment to Dunkirk, but by this time Saxe had lost heart and declined to sail until Roquefeuil's whole fleet was at hand to escort him. It never was at hand to escort him, and the expedition never sailed. Roquefeuil, with his fleet now greatly reduced, anchored off Dungeness on the 22nd, and never got any further. What had happened in the meanwhile was this. Norris remained in the Downs, being held there for some time by a gale. He was not unaware of what was going on at Dunkirk, but he hesitated to proceed thither lest the French fleet behind him should be covering another expedition coming from some French port in the Channel. He sent to reconnoitre, however, and on the 21st received information that four sixty-gun ships--these were, no doubt, Baraille's detachment--were at anchor off Gravelines, and there covering the transports at Dunkirk. On the 22nd, Roquefeuil appeared off Dungeness and anchored there. As soon as he knew Roquefeuil's whereabouts, Norris resolved to attack him without delay. The wind, being N.W., was favourable to his enterprise, and at the same time made it impossible for the expedition to leave Dunkirk. Should the wind change before Roquefeuil was brought to action and defeated, Norris held that he was strong enough to detach a force to impeach Saxe and Baraille, and at the same time to give a good account of Roquefeuil. But matters did not exactly turn out in this wise. On the 24th Norris left the Downs, with a light wind from the N.W., and an ebb tide in his favour, making for Dungeness, where Roquefeuil was still lying. His appearance in the offing was Roquefeuil's first information that Norris was to the eastward of him in superior force, and it greatly disconcerted Roquefeuil. He held a hasty council of war and decided to cut and run. By this time the tide had turned and the wind had fallen, so that he could not stir until the tide again began to ebb. Norris, similarly disabled, had anchored some few miles to the eastward, intending to make his attack as soon as wind and tide allowed. But during the night a furious gale from the N.E. sprang up, which drove most of Norris's ships from their anchors, and when daylight came the French were nowhere to be seen. Roquefeuil had slipped his cables, and with the gale behind him was hurrying back to Brest. Norris went after him as far as Beachy Head, but there gave up the chase and returned to the Downs, to make sure that Saxe and Baraille, for whom the wind was now favourable, might find their way barred should they attempt to set sail. The transports, however, were by now in no position to move, nor was either Saxe or Baraille in any mind to allow them to move. They both realized that the game was up. The troops were in the transports, and they suffered greatly in the gale that frustrated Norris' attack on Roquefeuil. But that was merely an accident of warfare. It was not the gale that shattered the expedition, nor did it save England from invasion. On the contrary, while it played havoc with the transports and troops at Dunkirk, it also saved Roquefeuil's fleet from destruction at Dungeness. But, gale or no gale, the transports and troops never could have crossed so long as Norris held on to the Downs. Nor could they have crossed had Norris been allowed to remain at Portsmouth as he desired; for in that case Baraille could not have been detached. To point the moral of this memorable story, I cannot do better than quote Mr Julian Corbett's comment on it. "The whole attempt, it will be seen, with everything in its favour, had exhibited the normal course of degradation. For all the nicely framed plan and perfect deception, the inherent difficulties, when it came to the point of execution, had as usual forced a clumsy concentration of the enemy's battle fleet with his transports, and we on our part were able to forestall it with every advantage in our favour by the simple expedient of a central mass on a revealed and certain line of passage." We were certainly taken at a disadvantage at the outset, for the "bolt from the blue" was preparing some time before any one in England got wind of it. The country had been largely denuded of troops for foreign enterprises, Scotland was deeply disaffected, the Jacobites were full of hope and intrigue, the Ministry was supine and feeble, the navy was deplorably weak in home waters, and such ships as were available had been dispersed to their ports for refit. Nevertheless with all these conditions in its favour the projected "bolt from the blue" was detected and anticipated--tardily, it is true, and with no great sagacity except on the part of Norris--long before the expedition was ready to start. Surely the moral needs no further pointing. By these instances, and others which might be quoted, the law seems to be established that in default of an assured command of the sea the fleet which seeks to cover an invasion is drawn by irresistible attraction towards the place of embarkation, and that the same attraction brings it there--if not earlier--into conflict with the superior forces of the enemy. If in the Trafalgar campaign, which I have no space to examine in detail, the law does not seem to operate to the extent that it did in the other cases examined, that is only because the disposition of the British fleets was so masterly that Napoleon never got the opportunity he yearned for of bringing his fleets to the place of embarkation. They were outmanoeuvred beforehand and finally overthrown at Trafalgar. There is indeed a fourth alternative which has been advanced by some speculative writers, though history lends it no countenance, and it has never, I believe, been taken seriously by any naval authority of repute. I cannot take it seriously myself. It assumes that some naval Power, suitably situated as regards this country, might without either provocation or overt international dispute, clandestinely take up transport--either a comparatively small number of very large merchant vessels or a very large number of barges, lighters, or what not to be towed by steam vessels--might clandestinely put an army with all its necessary _impedimenta_ on board the transports so provided and then clandestinely, and without either notice or warning, send them to sea, with or without escort, with intent to effect a landing at some suitable point on the English coast. The whole theory seems to me to involve at least three monstrous improbabilities: first, a piratical intent on the part of a civilized nation; secondly, a concealment of such intent in conditions wellnigh incompatible with the degree of secrecy required; and thirdly, a precision and a punctuality of movement in the operations of embarkation, transit, and landing of which history affords no example, while naval opinion and experience scoff at them as utterly impracticable. Of course the future may not resemble the past, and naval wars of the future may not be conducted on a pattern sealed by the unbroken teaching of over eight hundred years. But that is an assumption which I cannot seriously entertain. CHAPTER VII COMMERCE IN WAR The maritime trade of a nation at war has always been regarded by the other belligerent as his legitimate prey. In the Dutch Wars the suppression of the enemy's commerce was the main objective of both parties to the conflict. In all wars in which either belligerent has any commerce afloat worth considering one belligerent may always be expected to do all that he can for its capture or suppression, while the other will do as much as he can for its defence. In proportion to the volume and value of the national trade afloat is the potency of its destruction as an agency for bringing the national will into submission. If, for example, the maritime trade of England could be suppressed by her enemies, England would thereby be vanquished. Her commerce is her life-blood. On the other hand there are nations, very powerful in war, which either by reason of their geographical position, or because their oversea trade is no vital element in their national economy, would suffer comparatively little in like circumstances. It thus appears that the volume and value of the national trade afloat is the measure of the efforts which an enemy is likely to make for its suppression. But it is not directly the measure of the efforts which a nation so assailed must make for its defence. The measure of these efforts is determined not by the volume and value of the trade to be protected but by the amount and character of the naval force which the enemy can employ in assailing it. In the Boer War British maritime commerce was unassailed and uninterrupted in all parts of the world, and yet not a single ship of the British Navy was directly employed in its protection. If on the other hand England were at war with a naval Power of the first rank, she might have to employ the whole of her naval resources in securing the free transit of her maritime commerce. So long as she can do this with success she need give no thought to the menace of possible invasion. A command of the sea so far established as to secure freedom of transit for the vast and ubiquitous maritime commerce of this country is also, of necessity, so far established as to deny free transit to the transports of an enemy seeking to invade. The greater includes the less. It may at first sight seem to be an anomaly--some, indeed, would represent it as a mere survival of barbarism--that whereas in war on land the private property of an enemy's subjects is, by the established law and custom of civilized nations, not liable to capture or destruction without compensation to its owners, the opposite rule still prevails in war at sea. But a little consideration will, I think, show that the analogy sought to be established between the two cases is a very imperfect one. War on land does _ipso facto_ suspend in large measure the free transport of commerce in transit. As between the two belligerents it interrupts it altogether. Moreover, throughout the territory occupied by the enemy, the railways, and in large measure the roads, are practically monopolized for the movements of his troops and the transport of his supplies--in a word for the maintenance of his communications. There can have been little or no consignment of goods from Paris to Berlin or _vice versa_ during the war of 1870, and even though at certain stages of the war goods might have been consigned, say, from Lyons to Geneva, or from Lille to Brussels, yet such cases are really only the counterparts of the frequent failure of one belligerent's cruisers to intercept the merchant vessels of the other on the high seas. Again, in the case of a beleaguered fortress, the besiegers would never dream of allowing a convoy of food or of munitions of war--or for the matter of that of merchandise of any kind--to enter the fortress. They would intercept it as a matter of course, and if necessary they would appropriate it to their own use. The upshot of it all is that even in war on land the transit of all commerce, albeit the private property of some one, is practically suspended within the area of the territory occupied, and very seriously impeded throughout the whole country subject to invasion. It is not, therefore, true to say without many qualifications that in war private property is respected on land and not respected at sea. The only difference that I can discern is that by the law and custom of nations private property cannot be appropriated on land, whereas at sea it can. But this difference is not really essential. The essential thing in both cases is that the wealth of the enemy is diminished and the credit of his traders destroyed--a far more important matter in these days than the destruction of this or that cargo of his goods--by the suspension of that interchange of commodities with other nations which is the chief element of national prosperity, and may be, as in the case of England, the indispensable condition of national existence. Indeed, although private property on land is exempt from capture, and at sea it is not, yet there are many nations which would suffer far more from the interruption of their mercantile communications which war on land entails than they would from the destruction of their commerce at sea. For these reasons I hold that the proposed exemption of private property from capture or molestation at sea is a chimerical one. War is essentially an act of violence. It operates by the destruction of human life as well as by all other agencies which are likely to subdue the enemy's will. Among these agencies the capture or destruction of commerce afloat is by far the most humane since it entails the least sacrifice of life, limb, or liberty, and at the same time its coercive pressure may in some cases, though not in all, be the most effective instrument for compelling the enemy's submission. Moreover, it is not proposed to exempt from capture or destruction such merchant vessels of the enemy--or even of a neutral for that matter--as attempt to break a blockade. Now the modern conditions of blockade are such that the warships conducting it may be stationed hundreds of miles from the blockaded port or ports, and their outlying cruisers, remaining in touch with each other and with the main body, may be much further afield. Within the area of the organized patrol thus established, every vessel seeking to enter a blockaded port or to issue from it will still be liable to capture. In these conditions the proposal to exempt the remainder of the enemy's private property afloat from capture would be a mockery. There would not be enough of such property afloat to pay for the cost of capture. It is an axiom of naval warfare that an assured command of the sea is at once the best defence for commerce afloat and an indispensable condition for any such attack on it as is likely to have any appreciable effect in subduing the enemy's will. War is an affair not of pin-pricks but of smashing blows. "The harassment and distress," says Admiral Mahan, "caused to a country by serious interference with its commerce will be conceded by all. It is doubtless a most important secondary operation of naval war, and is not likely to be abandoned until war itself shall cease; but regarded as a primary and fundamental measure sufficient in itself to crush an enemy, it is probably a delusion, and a most dangerous delusion, when presented in the fascinating garb of cheapness to the representatives of a people." Here again we may discern some of the larger implications of that potent and far-reaching agency of naval warfare, the command of the sea. If a belligerent not aiming at the command of the sea, and having no sufficient naval force wherewithal to secure it, thinks to crush his enemy by directing sporadic attacks on his commerce, he will, if history is any guide, soon find out his mistake. His naval forces available for this purpose, are, by the hypothesis, inferior to those of the enemy. It is certain that they will sooner or later be hunted down and destroyed. Moreover, the mercantile flag of the weaker belligerent will, as I have shown, disappear from the sea from the very outset of the conflict; and the maritime commerce of such a belligerent must be of very insignificant volume if the loss entailed by its suppression is not greater than that likely to be inflicted by such a belligerent on the enemy's commerce which crosses the seas under the _ægis_ of a flag which commands them. Admiral Mahan has estimated that during the whole of the war of the French Revolution and Empire the direct loss to England "by the operation of hostile cruisers did not exceed 2-1/2 per cent. of the commerce of the Empire; and that this loss was partially made good by the prize ships and merchandise taken by its own naval vessels and privateers." It should be noted, however, that the Royal Commission on Food Supply was of opinion that 4 per cent. would be a more accurate estimate. It is also well known that during the same period the maritime commerce of England was doubled in volume while that of France was annihilated. In point of fact the risks run in war by commerce afloat are measured very exactly by the degree in which the flag which covers it has secured the command of the sea--that is, be it always remembered, the control of the maritime communications affected. During the War of American Independence, when British supremacy at sea was seriously challenged and at times was in grave jeopardy--owing quite as much to faulty disposition as to inferiority of force--premiums of fifteen guineas per cent. were paid in 1782 on ships trading to the Far East; whereas from the spring of 1793 until the close of the struggle with Napoleon no premiums exceeding half that rate were paid. Yet to the very end of the war British merchant vessels were being seized even in the Channel almost every day. There is, however, good reason to think that many of these seizures were in reality collusive operations undertaken for the purpose of carrying on clandestinely the direct trade with the Continent which Napoleon sought in vain to suppress. The full history of the memorable conflict between the Berlin Decrees of Napoleon and the British Orders in Council, is still to be written. Some very illuminating side-lights are thrown on it by Mr David Hannay in a volume entitled _The Sea-Trader, His Friends and Enemies_. It would seem to follow from these premisses--fortified as they are by other historical examples that might be cited--that of two belligerents in a naval war, that one which establishes and maintains an effective command of the sea will be absolute master of the maritime commerce of the other, while his own maritime commerce, though not entirely immune, will suffer no such decisive losses as will determine or even materially affect the course and issue of the war; and that he may indeed emerge from the war much stronger and more prosperous than he was at the beginning. Such is assuredly the teaching of history, and although vast changes have taken place alike in respect of the methods, opportunities, implements, and international conventions of naval war and in respect of the conditions, volume, and national importance of maritime commerce, yet I think it can be shown that the sum total of these changes has made on the whole rather for the advantage of the superior belligerent than otherwise. In the first place privateering--formerly a very effective weapon in the hands of the weaker belligerent--is now abolished. It is true that the Declaration of Paris, which recorded and ratified its abolition, has not been formally accepted by all the naval Powers of the world; but it is also true that since its promulgation no naval Power has sought to revive privateering. It is indeed held by some that the right claimed by certain maritime Powers to convert merchant ships of their own nationality into warships by arming and commissioning them on the high seas is, or may be, equivalent to the revival of privateering in its most dangerous and aggressive form. But those who argue thus appear to overlook the fact that this process of conversion on the high seas is by the Seventh Convention of the Second Hague Conference hedged round with a series of restrictions which differentiate the warship thus improvised very sharply from the privateer of the past. The following are the leading provisions of this Convention:-- 1. A merchant ship converted into a warship cannot have the rights and duties appertaining to vessels having that status unless it is under the direct authority, immediate control, and responsibility of the Power the flag of which it flies. 2. Merchant ships converted into warships must bear the external marks which distinguish the warships of their nationality. 3. The commander must be in the service of the State and duly commissioned by the proper authorities. His name must figure on the list of the officers of the fighting fleet. 4. The crew must be subject to military discipline. 5. Every merchant ship converted into a warship is bound to observe in its operations the laws and customs of war. 6. A belligerent who converts a merchant ship into a warship must, as soon as possible, announce such conversion in the list of its warships. This Convention has been accepted and ratified by all the great maritime Powers. It is true that it gives the converted merchant ship what may be called the dog's privilege of taking a first bite with impunity, but it makes it very difficult for any second bite to be taken. Such a vessel may as a merchant ship have obtained coal and other supplies in a neutral port before conversion, but she cannot after conversion return to the same or another neutral port and repeat the process; nor can she easily play the game which some have attributed to her of being a merchant ship one day, a warship the next, and a merchant ship again on the third. Further, as a weapon to be employed against England in particular, the method of conversion here prescribed would seem to be largely discounted by the fact that this country could, if it were so disposed, convert as many merchant ships into warships in this way as all the rest of the world put together. It will be argued, perhaps, that a belligerent when hard pressed will not respect the provisions of a mere paper Convention, but will, if it suits him, treat them as non-existent. In that case it is not easy to see why he should ever have accepted and ratified them. The preamble of this very Convention recites that "whereas the contracting Powers have been unable to come to an agreement on the question whether the conversion of a merchant ship into a warship may take place upon the high seas, it is understood that the question of the place where such conversion is effected remains outside the scope of this agreement, and is in no way affected by the following rules." In other words some of the very Powers which have ratified the Convention as it stands categorically declined to add to it a provision forbidding altogether the conversion of a merchant ship into a warship on the high seas. If this does not mean that, while reserving their freedom of action in this respect, they are prepared to abide by the provisions of a Convention which they have not less categorically accepted and ratified we are driven to the absurd conclusion that all International Law is a nullity. Secondly, the practical disappearance of the sailing ship from the seas has profoundly modified all the pre-existing conditions affecting the attack and defence of commerce afloat. In the days of sailing, all vessels were compelled to sail according to the wind, that is, to take devious courses whenever the wind was adverse, so that some of them might at all times be found scattered over very wide areas of the seas connecting the ports of departure with those of arrival. Accordingly the sporadic attack on commerce by isolated warships cruising at large within the limits of trade routes, which might be hundreds of miles in width, was often productive of very appreciable results. There were few blank coverts on the seas to be drawn. Nowadays a steamer can always take the most direct course to her destination. As a consequence, trade routes have now been narrowed down to what may more fittingly be called lines of communication, and these lines possess the true characteristic of all lines, namely, that they have practically no breadth. Thus the areas bounded by these lines are nowadays all blank coverts. Any one who happens to cross the Atlantic, as I have crossed it more than once, by one of the less frequented routes, will know that the number of vessels sighted in a voyage quite as long as any warship could take without coaling may often be counted on the fingers of one hand. Another characteristic of these lines is that though their points of departure and destination are fixed, yet the lines joining these points may be varied if necessary to such an extent that any warship hovering about their ordinary direction would be thrown entirely off the scent. On the other hand their ports of departure and destination being fixed, the lines of communication must inevitably converge as they approach these points. There are other points also more in the open at which several lines of communication may intersect. At these "terminal and focal points," as Mr Corbett has aptly called them, the belligerent, being by hypothesis inferior to his adversary, must needs endeavour to concentrate his attack on his enemy's commerce, because at any other points the game would not be worth the candle. But it is precisely at these points that the superior adversary will concentrate his defence, and being superior, will take care to do so in force sufficient for the purpose. So far as the remaining portions of the lines of communication need any direct defence at all this can be afforded, if and when necessary, by collecting the merchant ships about to traverse them into convoys and giving them an escort sufficiently powerful to deal effectually with attacks which from the nature of the case can only be sporadic and intermittent. Be it remembered that the last thing a warship bent on commerce destruction wants is to encounter an enemy in superior or even in equal force. The moment she does so her game is up. Thirdly, the substitution of steam for sails has very largely reduced the enduring mobility of the commerce-destroying warship. In time of war no warship will ever go further from the nearest available supply of coal than is represented by considerably less than half of the distance that she can steam at full speed with her bunkers full. If she does so she runs the risk, if chased, of burning her last pound of coal before she has reached shelter. Coaling at sea is only possible in exceptional circumstances, and is in any case a very tedious operation. A warship which attempts it will be taken at a great disadvantage if an enemy catches her in the process. Colliers, moreover, are exposed to capture while proceeding to the appointed rendezvous, and if they fail to reach it the warship awaiting them will be placed in extreme danger. All these difficulties and dangers may be surmounted once and again, but they must needs put a tremendous handicap in the long run on the commerce-destroying efforts of a belligerent who is not superior to his adversary at sea. Of course if he is superior at sea the enemy's commerce will be at his mercy, and nothing can prevent its destruction or at least its total suppression. But that is not the hypothesis we are considering. Fourthly, the power of the modern warship to send her prizes into court for adjudication, or to destroy them off-hand on capture is much more limited than was that of her sailing predecessor. If she sends them into port she must either put a prize crew on board or escort them herself. In the former case the prizes, and in the latter case both prizes and their captors are liable to recapture, a liability which becomes the greater in proportion as the enemy is superior at sea. As to the former alternative, moreover, the crew of a modern man-of-war is highly specialized, and in particular its engine-room complement, which must furnish a portion of every prize crew, is at the outset no greater than is required for the full fighting efficiency of the ship. It is probable, therefore, that the captor would in nearly all cases adopt the alternative of destroying his prizes at sea. In that case there will be no prize money for any one concerned, but that is perhaps a minor consideration. A far more important consideration is that before destroying the prize the captor must take its crew on board and provide food and accommodation for them. Any other course would be sheer piracy and would inevitably lead to drastic reprisals. Now, before the captor had destroyed many prizes in this fashion--especially if even one of them happened to be a passenger steamer well filled with passengers--she would find herself gravely embarrassed by the number of her prisoners, and the need of providing for them even in the roughest fashion. A captain having to fight his ship even with a few hundreds of prisoners on board would be in no very enviable position. The foregoing are the leading considerations which appear to me to govern the problem of the attack and defence of maritime commerce in modern conditions of naval warfare. I have discussed the question in greater detail in a work entitled _Nelson and Other Naval Studies_, and as I have seen no reason to abandon or substantially to modify the conclusions there formulated, I reproduce them here for the sake of completeness:-- 1. All experience shows that commerce-destroying never has been, and never can be, a primary object of naval war. 2. There is nothing in the changes which modern times have witnessed in the methods and appliances of naval warfare to suggest that the experience of former wars is no longer applicable. 3. Such experience as there is of modern war points to the same conclusion and enforces it. 4. The case of the "Alabama," rightly understood, does not disallow this conclusion but rather confirms it. 5. Though the volume of maritime commerce has vastly increased, the number of units of naval force capable of assailing it has decreased in far greater proportion. 6. Privateering is, and remains abolished, not merely by the fiat of International Law, but by changes in the methods and appliances of navigation and naval warfare which have rendered the privateer entirely obsolete. 7. Maritime commerce is much less assailable than in former times, because the introduction of steam has confined its course to definite trade routes of extremely narrow width, and has almost denuded the sea of commerce outside these limits. 8. The modern commerce destroyer is confined to a comparatively narrow radius of action by the inexorable limits of her coal supply. If she destroys her prizes she must forgo the prize money and find accommodation for the crews and passengers of the ships destroyed. If she sends them into port she must deplete her engine-room complement and thereby gravely impair her own efficiency. 9. Torpedo craft are of little or no use for commerce destruction except in certain well-defined areas where special measures can be taken for checking their depredations. Of course all this depends on the one fundamental assumption that the commerce to be defended belongs to a Power which can, and does, command the sea. On no other condition can maritime commerce be defended at all. CHAPTER VIII THE DIFFERENTIATION OF NAVAL FORCE A warship, considered in the abstract, may be defined as a vessel employed, and generally constructed, for the purpose of conveying across the seas to the place of conflict, the weapons that are to be used in conflict, the men who are to use them, and all such stores, whether of food or other supplies, as will give to the vessel as large a measure of enduring mobility as is compatible with her displacement. If we confine our attention to the period posterior to the employment of the gun on shipboard as the principal weapon of offence, and if we regard the torpedo as a particular kind of projectile, and the tube from which it is discharged as a particular kind of gun, we may condense this definition into the modern formula that a warship is a floating gun-carriage. With the methods and implements of sea warfare anterior to the introduction of the gun we need not concern ourselves. They belong to the archæology of the subject. It suffices to point out that in all periods of naval warfare the nature of the principal weapon employed, and to some extent that of the motive power available, have not only governed the structure of the ship and determined the practicable limit of its displacement, but have also exercised a dominant influence over the ordering of fleets and their disposition in action. Sea tactics have never been more elaborate than they were in the last days of the galley period which came to an end with the Battle of Lepanto in 1571, less than a score of years before the defeat of the Armada in 1588. But the substitution of sails for oars as the motive power of the warship and the more general employment of the gun as the principal weapon of offence necessarily entailed radical changes in the tactical methods which had been slowly evolved during the galley period. At first all was confusion and a sea-fight was reduced for a time to a very disorderly and tumultuous affair. "We went down in no order," wrote an officer who was present at Trafalgar, "but every man to take his bird." This is a very inaccurate and even more unintelligent account of the tactics pursued at Trafalgar; but it might very well stand for a picturesque summary of the tactical confusion which prevailed at the period of the Armada and for half a century afterwards. Gradually, however, order was again evolved out of the prevailing chaos. But it was not the old order. It was a new order based on the predominance of the gun and its disposition on board the ship. To go down in no order and for each man to take his bird would mean that each ship, whether large or small, would be free as far as circumstances permitted to select an adversary not disproportioned in strength to herself, so that there was no very pressing need for the fleet to consist of homogeneous units, nor for the elimination of comparatively small craft from a general engagement. But in the course of the Dutch Wars the practice was slowly evolved of fighting in a compact or close-hauled line, the ships being ranged in a line ahead--that is, each succeeding ship following in the wake of her next ahead--in order to give free play to the guns disposed mainly on the broadside, and being, for purposes of mutual support, disposed as closely to each other as was compatible with individual freedom of evolution and manoeuvre. This disposition necessarily involved the exclusion from the line of battle of all vessels below a certain average or standard of fighting strength, since it was no longer possible for "every man to take his bird" and a weak ship might find herself in conflict with an adversary of overpowering strength in the enemy's line. Hence the main fighting forces of naval belligerents came in time to be composed entirely of "ships fit to lie in a line," as Torrington phrased it, of "capital ships," as they were frequently called in former days, of "line of battle ships" or "ships of the line," as afterwards they were more commonly called, or of "battleships" as is nowadays the accepted appellation. Other elements of naval force not "fit to lie in a line" were also required, as I am about to show, and took different forms at different times, but the root of the whole evolution lies in the elimination of the non-capital ship from the main fighting line. In a very instructive chapter of his _Naval Warfare_, Admiral Colomb has traced the whole course of this gradual "Differentiation of Naval Force." But for my purpose it suffices to cite the briefer exposition of a French writer quoted by Admiral Mahan in his _Influence of Sea Power upon History_:-- "With the increase of the power of the ship of war, and with the perfecting of its sea and warlike qualities, there has come an equal progress in the art of utilizing them.... As naval evolutions become more skilful, their importance grows from day to day. To these evolutions there is needed a base, a point from which they depart and to which they return. A fleet of warships must always be ready to meet an enemy; logically, therefore, this point of departure for naval evolutions must be the order of battle. Now since the disappearance of galleys, almost all the artillery is found upon the sides of a ship of war. Hence it is the beam that must necessarily and always be turned toward the enemy. On the other hand it is necessary that the sight of the latter must never be interrupted by a friendly ship. Only one formation allows the ships of the same fleet to satisfy fully these conditions. That formation is the line ahead. The line, therefore, is imposed as the only order of battle, and consequently as the basis of all fleet tactics. In order that this line of battle, this long thin line of guns, may not be injured or broken at some point weaker than the rest, there is at the same time felt to be the necessity of putting in it only ships which, if not of equal force, have at least equally strong sides. Logically it follows, at the same moment in which the line ahead became definitely the order for battle, there was established the distinction between the 'ships of the line' alone destined for a place therein, and the lighter ships meant for other uses." But the need for other and lighter ships "meant for other uses" and not "fit to lie in a line," is equally demonstrable. The function of battleships is to act in concert. They must therefore be concentrated in fleets sufficiently strong to give a good account of the enemy's fleets opposed to them. This does not necessarily mean that all the fleets of a belligerent must be concentrated in a single position. But it does mean that if disposed in accordance with the dispositions of the enemy they must be so disposed and connected, that, moving on interior lines, they can always bring a superior force to the point of contact with the enemy. Subject to this paramount condition, that of being able to concentrate more rapidly than the enemy can, dispersal of naval force--not of units but of organized fighting fleets--is generally a better disposition than extreme concentration. But it is a fatal error in strategy so to disperse your fleets as to expose them to the risk of being overpowered by the enemy in detail. The fleets of capital ships thus organized, and disposed as occasion may require and sound strategy dictate, are not, however, by any means to be regarded as autonomous and self-sufficing organisms. They are rather to be regarded as the moving base of a much larger organization, much more widely dispersed, consisting of lighter vessels not fit to lie in a line, but specially adapted to discharge functions which capital ships cannot as such discharge, yet which are indispensable either to the full efficiency of the latter or to the maintenance of an effective command of the sea. The first of these functions is the collection and rapid transmission of intelligence as to the enemy's dispositions and movements over as wide an area of the waters in dispute as is compatible with communication rapid enough to allow of counter-movements being made before it is too late. The development of wireless telegraphy has largely extended this area, but it is not without limits in practice, and those limits are already narrower than the extreme range of a single transmission by wireless telegraphy. For example, a warship in the Levant might, if the conditions were exceptionally favourable, communicate by direct wireless with another warship in the Orkneys. But the information thus transmitted would hardly be likely directly to influence the movements and dispositions of the latter. If it did it would probably not be through the immediate initiative of the Admiral commanding in the North Sea, but through the supreme control of all the naval forces of the belligerent affected, exercised through the General Staff of the Navy at the seat of Government. It may here be remarked in passing that the development of wireless telegraphy will probably be found in war to strengthen this supreme control and to weaken to that extent the independent and isolated initiative of individual Commanders-in-Chief. But that is not necessarily a disadvantage, and even so far as it is disadvantage at all it is more than balanced by the immense corresponding advantage of keeping the War Staff at all times in direct touch with every part of the field of naval operations, and thereby making it the focus of all available information, and the directing authority for all the larger strategy of the campaign. Except in degree, moreover, there is nothing new in this. When Nelson was returning across the Atlantic, after chasing Villeneuve out of the West Indies, his only way of informing the Admiralty of the nature of the situation was to send on Bettesworth in the brig "Curieux" with his news. Nowadays a modern "Curieux" would be able to send on the news as soon as she came within fifteen hundred or possibly two thousand miles from the British Isles, and Nelson at the same distance might have received his orders direct from the Admiralty. But the special point to note is that as soon as Bettesworth's information was received at the Admiralty, Barham, the First Lord of the Admiralty, instantly issued orders which profoundly modified the dispositions of the fleets engaged in blockading the French ports and led directly to Calder's action off Finisterre, and in the sequel to the abandonment by Napoleon of all his projects of invasion and the destruction of the allied fleets at Trafalgar. There were giants in those days both afloat and ashore. But the giants afloat did not resent the interference of the giants ashore, and, as Mr Corbett has shown, the Trafalgar campaign was conducted with consummate sagacity by Barham, who embodied in himself the War Staff of the time. Such is the transcendent importance of intelligence, and of its collection, transmission, collation, interpretation, and translation into supreme executive orders. Its collection and transmission is mainly the function of cruising ships disposed either individually or in small groups for the purpose, and at such a distance from the main body of battleships as is not incompatible with the movements of the latter being controlled and directed, either by their immediate commanders, or by the War Staff at the centre, according to the information received from the outlying cruisers. Such cruising vessels may vary in size and strength from the modern battle-cruiser, so heavily armed and armoured as to be not incapable of taking a place, on occasion, in the line of battle, down to the smallest torpedo craft which is endowed with sufficient enduring mobility to enable her to keep the sea and to cruise as near as may be to the enemy's ports. I have already indicated the other collateral functions which will have to be discharged by torpedo craft in case of a blockade and pointed out the vital distinction which differentiates them from the small craft of the past in that in certain circumstances they are capable of taking a formidable part in a fleet action even as against the most powerful battleships. But we are here considering them solely from the point of view of their cruising functions, whether as guarding their own shores or watching those of the enemy with a view to fighting on occasion and to observation at all times. Their supports will be cruisers of larger size, disposed at suitable distances in the rear, and themselves supported in like manner by successive cordons or patrols of cruisers increasing in size and power, until we come to the battle fleet as the concentrated nucleus of the whole organization. This is merely an abstract or diagrammatic exposition of such an organization, and it is of course liable to almost infinite variation in the infinite variety of warlike operations at sea, but it serves to exhibit the _rationale_ of the differentiation of naval force into battleships, cruisers, and small craft. It has sometimes been argued that, inasmuch as the torpedo craft is, or may be, in certain conditions, more than a match for even the biggest battleship, battleships together with all intermediate ships between the battleship and the torpedo vessel, are not unlikely to be some day regarded as superfluous and in consequence to be discarded altogether from the naval armament of even a first-class maritime Power. It is true that the range and accuracy of the torpedo have latterly undergone an immense development, so that a range of even ten thousand yards or five sea-miles is no longer beyond its powers. It is true that the development of the submarine vessel has vastly intensified the menace of the torpedo and it may soon be true that the development of aircraft will add a new and very formidable menace to the supremacy of the battleship. But except for this last consideration, which is at present exceedingly speculative, a little reflection will disclose the underlying fallacy of arguments of this kind. The enduring mobility of the torpedo craft is necessarily limited. It is incapable of that wide range of action which is required of warships if they are to establish and maintain any effective command of the sea. It is exceedingly vulnerable to ships of a larger size, and of more ample enduring mobility. These again will be vulnerable in their turn to ships of a still larger size and thus the logic of the situation brings us back to the battleship once more with its characteristic functions. It may perhaps be urged that this chain of argument takes too little account of the submarine vessel which is at present singularly invulnerable because for the most part invisible to any vessels, whether big or little, which operate only on the surface and even if discovered betimes by the latter, is not very readily assailable by them. But of two things one. Either the submarine vessel will remain small and therefore weak, and lacking in enduring mobility, in which case it can never establish and maintain an effective command of the sea. Or it will grow indefinitely in size, in which case it will fall under the inexorable stress of the logic which brings us back once more to the battleship. It may be that the battleship of the still distant future will be a submersible battleship. But many exceedingly complex problems of construction and stability will have to be solved before that consummation is reached. Lastly, the specific function of the so-called battle-cruiser would seem to need some further elucidation. At first sight this hybrid type of vessel might seem to be an anomalous intrusion into the time-honoured hierarchy of battleship, cruiser, and small craft, which the ripe experience of many wars, battles, and campaigns had finally established in the last golden days of the sailing ship period. It is indeed held by some high authorities that the battle-cruiser is in very truth a hybrid and an anomaly, and that no adequate reason for its existence can be given. In face of these opinions I cannot presume to dogmatize on the subject. But some not wholly irrelevant considerations may be advanced. The battle-cruiser is, as its name implies, a vessel not only fitted by the nature of its armour and armament "to lie in a line," whenever occasion may require, but also exceedingly well qualified by its armour and armament, and still more by its speed, to discharge many of the functions of a cruiser either alone or in company with other cruisers. In this latter capacity, it can overhaul nearly every merchant ship afloat, it can scout far and wide, it can push home a vital reconnaissance in cases where a weaker and slower cruiser would have to run away if she could, it can serve as a rallying point to a squadron of smaller cruisers engaged in the defence of this or that vital line of communication, and alone or in company with a consort of the same type it can hold the terminal and focal points of any such line against almost any number of hostile cruisers inferior in defensive and offensive powers to itself. Such are its powers and capacities when acting as a cruiser proper. But it may be thought that in the stress of conflict it will have very little opportunity of displaying these very exceptional powers because an admiral in command of a fighting fleet will never, when anticipating an engagement with the enemy, consent to weaken his fighting line by detaching so powerful a unit for scouting or other cruising purposes. That is as it may be. It will depend on many circumstances of the moment not to be clearly anticipated or defined beforehand; on the strength of the enemy's force, on the personality, sagacity, and fortitude of the admiral--whether he is or is not a man of the mettle and temper ascribed to Nelson by Admiral Mahan in a passage already quoted--on the comparative need as determined by the circumstances of the moment of scouting for information, of cruising for the defence of trade, or of strengthening the battle line for a decisive conflict to the uttermost extent of the nation's resources. It is unbecoming to assume that in the crisis of his country's fate an admiral will act either as a fool or as a poltroon. It is the country's fault if a man capable of so acting is placed in supreme command, and for that there is no remedy. But it is sounder to assume that the admiral selected for command is a man not incapable of disposing his force to the best advantage. "We must," said Lord Goschen, on one occasion, "put our trust in Providence and a good admiral." If a nation cannot find a good admiral in its need it is idle to trust in Providence. It remains to consider the function of the battle-cruiser in the line of battle. The lines of battle in former times were often composed of ships of varying size and power. There was a legitimate prejudice against ships of excessive size, although their superior power in action was recognized--we have the unimpeachable testimony on that point of Nelson's Hardy, a man of unrivalled fighting experience to whom Nelson himself attributed "an intuitive right judgment"--because they were unhandy in manoeuvre and slow in sailing as compared with ships of more moderate dimensions. But except for difficulties of docking--a very serious consideration from the financial point of view--hardly any limit can be assigned to the size of the modern warship on these particular grounds. Quite the contrary. Other things being equal, the bigger the ship the higher the speed, and it is well known that ships of the Dreadnought type are as handy to steer as a torpedo boat. For tactical reasons, moreover, it is not expedient to lengthen the line of battle unduly. Hence there is a manifest advantage in concentrating offensive power, as far as may be, in single units. On the other hand, the experience and practice of the eighteenth century showed conclusively that there was also a distinct advantage in having in the line of battle a certain number of ships which, being smaller than their consorts, were more handy and faster sailing than the latter. The enemy might not want to fight. Very often he did not, and by crowding all possible sail he did his best to get away. In this case the only way to bring him to action was for the pursuing admiral to order "a general chase"--that is, to direct his ships, disregarding the precise line of battle, to hurry on with all possible sail after the enemy so that the fastest ships of the pursuing fleet might bring individually to action the laggards of the retreating fleet and hold them until the main body of the pursuing fleet came up. In this case the retreating admiral must either return to the succour of his ships astern and thereby accept the general action which he sought to avoid, or abandon his overtaken ships to the enemy without attempting to rescue them. Hawke's action in Quiberon Bay and Duncan's action off Camperdown are two of the most memorable examples of this particular mode of attack, and their brilliant results are a striking testimony to its efficacy. If ever in the naval battles of the future it becomes expedient for an admiral to order a general chase, it stands to reason that ships of the battle-cruiser type will be invaluable for the purpose. Their speed will enable them to hold the tail of the enemy's line, and their power will enable them to crush it unless the retreating admiral who seeks to avoid a decisive action turns back to succour such of his ships as are assailed and thereby renders a decisive action inevitable. There is, moreover, another function to be assigned to the battle-cruiser in a general action, and that is a function which was defined once for all by Nelson himself in the immortal memorandum in which he explained to his captains the mode of attack he proposed to carry out at Trafalgar. "I have," wrote Nelson, "made up my mind to keep the fleet in that position of sailing ... that the order of sailing is to be the order of battle, placing the fleet in two lines of sixteen ships each, with an advanced squadron of eight _of the fastest sailing two-decked ships_ which will always make, if wanted, a line of twenty-four sail, on whichever line the Commander-in-Chief may direct." Owing to the lack of ships this disposition was not adopted on the day of Trafalgar, but the principle involved is not affected by that circumstance. That principle is that a squadron of the fastest sailing ships in the fleet was to be detached from the two fighting lines entrusted with the initial attack, and reserved or "refused" until the development of the main attack had disclosed to the Commander-in-Chief the point at which the impact of this "advanced squadron" would by superior concentration on that point secure that the enemy should there be decisively overpowered. The essence of the matter is that the ships so employed should by virtue of their superior speed be endowed with a tactical mobility sufficient to enable them to discharge the function assigned to them. I need hardly insist on the close analogy which subsists between Nelson's "advanced squadron" and a modern squadron of battle-cruisers similarly employed, and although the conflict of modern warships must needs differ in many essential respects from the conflicts of sailing ships in Nelson's days, yet I think a clear and authoritative exposition of one at least of the uses and functions of the battle-cruiser in a fleet action may still be found in what I have called elsewhere "the last tactical word of the greatest master of sea tactics the world has ever known, the final and flawless disposition of sailing ships marshalled for combat." CHAPTER IX THE DISTRIBUTION AND SUPPLY OF NAVAL FORCE The measure of naval strength required by any State is determined mainly by the naval strength of its possible adversaries in the event of war, and only in a secondary degree by the volume of the maritime interests which it has to defend. Paradoxical as the latter half of this proposition may seem at first sight, it can easily be shown to be sound. The maritime interests, territorial and commercial, of the British Empire are beyond all comparison greater than those of any other State in the world; but if no other State possessed a naval force strong enough to assail them seriously, it is manifest that the naval force required to defend them need be no greater than is sufficient to overcome the assailant, and would not therefore be determined in any degree by the volume of the interests to be defended. Each State determines for itself the measure of naval strength which it judges to be necessary to its security. No State expects to have to encounter the whole world in arms or makes its provision in view of any such chimerical contingency. The utmost that any State can do is to adjust its naval policy to a rational estimate of all the reasonably probable contingencies of international conflict, due regard being had to the extent of its financial resources and to such other requirements of national defence as circumstances impose on it. Germany, for example, has proclaimed to all the world in the preamble to the Navy Law of 1900 that-- "In order to protect German trade and commerce under existing conditions, only one thing will suffice, namely, Germany must possess a battle fleet of such strength that even for the most powerful naval adversary a war would involve such risks as to make that Power's own supremacy doubtful. For this purpose it is not absolutely necessary that the German fleet should be as strong as that of the greatest naval Power, for, as a rule, a great naval Power will not be in a position to concentrate all its forces against us." I am not concerned in any way with the political aspects of this memorable declaration. But its bearing on the naval policy of the British Empire is manifest and direct. England is beyond all question "the greatest naval Power" in the world. The declaration of Germany thus lays upon England the indefeasible obligation of taking care that by no efforts of any other Power shall her "own supremacy"--that is her capacity to secure and maintain the command of the sea in all reasonably probable contingencies of international conflict--be rendered doubtful. There is no State in the world on which decisive defeat at sea would inflict such irretrievable disaster as it would on England and her Empire. These islands would be open to invasion--and if to invasion to conquest and subjugation--the commerce of the whole Empire would be annihilated, and the Empire itself would be dismembered. I need not attempt to determine what measure of naval strength is required to avert this unspeakable calamity. It suffices to say that whatever the measure may be it must be provided and maintained at all hazards. That is merely the axiomatic expression of the things that belong to our peace. It will be observed that the German declaration assumes that "a great naval Power will not, as a rule, be in a position to concentrate all its forces against" a single adversary. This raises at once the question of the distribution of naval force, or of what has been called the peace strategy of position. I shall endeavour to discuss the problem with as little reference as may be to an actual state of war between any two individual and specific naval Powers. I shall merely assume that of two possible belligerents one is so far stronger than the other as to look with confidence to being able in the event of war to secure and maintain its own command of the sea; and in order not to complicate the problem unduly I shall include in the term "belligerent" not merely a single Power but an alliance of one or more separate Powers, while still adhering to the assumption that the relative strength of the two belligerents is as defined above. If England is one of the Powers affected it is manifest from what has already been said that this assumption is a legitimate one. In such a situation it stands to reason that the concentration of the whole force of the stronger belligerent against the whole force equally concentrated of the weaker belligerent would not be necessary and would very rarely be expedient. The stronger belligerent would of course seek, in time of war, so to dispose his forces as to make it impossible for the weaker fleets of his adversary to take the sea without being brought to a decisive action, and he would so order his peace strategy of position as to further that paramount purpose. But it does not follow that being superior in the measure above defined he would need to concentrate all his available forces for that purpose. He would concentrate so much of his forces as would ensure victory in the encounters anticipated--so far as mere numbers apart from fighting efficiency can ensure victory--and the residue would be available for other and subsidiary purposes. If there were no residue, then the required superiority would not have been attained, and the belligerent who has neglected to attain it must take the consequences. One of these consequences would certainly be that the other and subsidiary purposes above mentioned would have to be neglected until the main issue was decided, and if these purposes were of any moment he would have so far to pay the penalty of his neglect. Nothing is more fatal in warfare than to attempt to be equally strong everywhere. If you cannot do everything you desire at once you must concentrate all your energies on doing the most important and the most vital things first. When the tree is cut down the branches will fall of themselves. The history of the War of American Independence is full of illustrations of the neglect of this paramount principle. England was worsted much more by faulty distribution than by insufficiency of force. At the same time it must be observed that the outlying and subsidiary purposes of the conflict cannot be of vital moment so long as the superior belligerent is at firm grips with the central forces of his adversary. We are dealing with the assumption that of two belligerents one is so far superior to the other that he may entertain a reasonable confidence of being able to deny the command of the sea to his adversary and in the end to secure it for himself. It is an essential part of this assumption that the forces of the superior belligerent will be so disposed as to make it exceedingly difficult and, subject to the fortune of war, practically impossible for any considerable portion of the enemy's forces to act on a vigorous offensive without being speedily brought to book by a superior force of his adversary, and that the peace strategy of the latter will have been ordered to that end. So long as this is the case the virtual command of the sea will be in the hands of the superior belligerent, even though his forces may be so concentrated, in accordance with the dispositions of the enemy, as to leave many regions of the sea apparently unguarded. They are adequately guarded by the fact that the enemy is _ex hypothesi_ unable to reach them--or if by a successful evasion of his adversary's guard he manages to send a detachment, large or small, to aim at some outlying objective, the initial superiority of force possessed by his adversary will always enable the latter to send a superior force in pursuit of the fugitive. Much harm may be done before the fugitive is brought to book, but no State, however strong, need ever expect to go to war without running risks and suffering occasional and partial reverses. It is thus a pure delusion to assume, as loose thinkers on the subject too often assume, that the command of the sea must be either surrendered or imperilled by a superior belligerent who, apparently neglecting those regions of the sea which are not immediately assailed or threatened, concentrates his forces in the positions best calculated to enable him to get the better of his adversary, or who in time of peace so orders his strategy of position as to secure that advantage at once should war unhappily break out. Not long ago the Leader of the Opposition in the House of Commons used the following words:--"Ten years ago we not only had the command of the sea, but we had the command of every sea. We have the command of no sea in the world except the North Sea at this moment." Those who have followed and assimilated the exposition of the true meaning of the command of the sea given in these pages will readily discern how mischievous a travesty of that meaning is contained in these words. There is, as I have shown, no such thing as a command of the sea in time of peace. The phrase is merely a definition of the paramount objective of naval warfare as such. Ten years ago we had no command of any sea because we were not at war with any naval Power. The concentration of a large portion of our naval forces in the North Sea is no surrender of our command of the sea in any part of the world, because that command does not exist, never has existed in time of peace, and never can exist even in time of war until we have fought for it and secured it. The concentration in question is, together with the simultaneous disposition of the residue of our naval forces in different parts of the world, merely the expression of that peace strategy of position which, in the judgment of those who are responsible for it, is best calculated in the more probable, yet possibly quite remote, contingencies of international conflict, to enable our fleets to get the better of our enemies and thereby ultimately to secure the command of the sea in any and every part of the world in which we have maritime interests to defend. There are, it is true, some disadvantages involved in a close and sustained concentration of naval forces, especially in home waters. Naval officers lose in breadth and variety of experience and in the self-reliance which comes of independent command, while the prestige of the flag is in some measure diminished by the infrequency of its appearance in distant seas. But these, after all, are subsidiary considerations which must be subordinated to the paramount needs of a sound strategy, whether offensive or defensive. It follows from the foregoing exposition of the principles which govern the strategic distribution of naval force in peace and war that a great naval Power must often maintain fleets of considerable strength in distant seas. England has for many generations maintained such a fleet in the Mediterranean, and it is hard to see how any reasonably probable change in the international situation could absolve her from that obligation. There are other and more distant stations on which she has maintained and still does maintain squadrons in a strength which has varied greatly from time to time in accordance with the changing phases of international relations and of strategic requirements as affected thereby. The measure of these requirements is determined from time to time by the known strength of the hostile forces which would have to be encountered in any reasonably probable contingencies of international conflict. But there is one antecedent requirement which is common to all considerable detachments of naval force in distant waters. In order to maintain their efficiency and mobility they must have a naval base conveniently situated within the limits of their station to which they may resort from time to time for repair, refit, and supply. The need for supply at the base is less paramount than that for refit and repair, because it is manifest that the control of maritime communications which has enabled the requisite stores to reach the base will also enable them to reach the ships themselves, wherever they may be at the moment. But for all refit and repair which cannot be effected by the ships' companies themselves, with the aid of an attached repair ship, the ships must go to the base, and that base must be furnished with docks capable of receiving them. It is essential to note that the base is there for the sake of the ships. The ships are not there for the sake of the base. It is a fatal inversion of all sound principles of naval strategy to suppose that the ships owe, or can afford, to the base any other form of defence than that which is inherent in their paramount and primary task of controlling the maritime communications which lead to it. So long as they can do this the base will be exposed only to such attacks as can be delivered by a force which has evaded but not defeated the naval guard, and to this extent the base must be fortified and garrisoned; for, of course, if the naval guard has been decisively defeated, the control of maritime communications has passed into the hands of the enemy, and nothing but the advance of a relieving naval force, too strong for the enemy to resist, can prevent the base being invested from the sea and ultimately reduced. It will be seen from this how absurd it is ever to speak of a naval base as commanding the adjacent seas. As such it does not command, and never can command, any portion of the sea which lies beyond the range of its own guns. All that it ever does or can do is, by its resources for repair, refit, and supply, to enable the fleet based upon it constantly to renew its efficiency and mobility, and thereby to discharge its appointed task of controlling the maritime communications entrusted to its keeping. But such command is in all cases exercised by the fleet and not by the base. If the fleet is not there or not equal to its task, the mere possession of the base is nearly always a source of weakness and not of strength to the naval Power which holds it. It is held by some that the occupation of naval bases in distant seas by a Power which is not strong enough to make sure of controlling the maritime communications which alone give to such bases their strategic value and importance is a great advantage to such a Power and a corresponding disadvantage to all its possible adversaries in war. It will readily be seen from what has been said that this is in large measure a delusion. As against a weaker adversary than itself the occupation of such bases may be an appreciable advantage to the Power which holds them, but only if the adversary in question has in the waters affected interests which are too important to be sacrificed without a struggle. On the other hand, as against an adversary strong enough to secure the command of the sea and determined to hold it at all hazards, the occupation of such distant bases can very rarely be of any advantage to the weaker belligerent and may very often expose him to reverses which, if not positively disastrous, must always be exceedingly mortifying. Of two things one. Either the belligerent in such a plight must detach a naval force sufficient to cover the outlying base, and thus, by dispersing naval forces which he desired to keep concentrated, he must expose his detachment to destruction by a stronger force of the enemy, or he must leave the base to its fate, in which case it is certain to fall in the long run. In point of fact the occupation of distant bases by any naval Power is merely the giving of hostages to any and every other Power which in the day of conflict can establish its command of the sea. That is the plain philosophy of the whole question. It only remains to consider very briefly the question of the supply of fleets operating in distant waters. In a very interesting and suggestive paper on the "Supply and Communications of a Fleet," Admiral Sir Cyprian Bridge has pointed out that "in time of peace as well as in time of war there is a continuous consumption of the articles of various kinds used on board ship, viz., naval stores, ordnance stores, engineers' stores, victualling stores, coal, water, etc." Of these the consumption of victualling stores is alone constant, being determined by the number of men to be victualled from day to day. The consumption of nearly all the other stores will vary greatly according as the ship is more or less at sea, and it is safe to say that for a given number of ships the consumption will be much greater in time of war, especially in coal, engineers' stores, and ordnance stores, than it is in time of peace. But in peace conditions Admiral Bridge estimated that for a fleet consisting of four battleships, four large cruisers, four second-class cruisers, thirteen smaller vessels of various kinds, and three torpedo craft, together with their auxiliaries, the _minimum_ requirements for six months--assuming that the ships started with full supplies, and that they returned to their principal base at the end of the period--would be about 6750 tons of stores and ammunition, and 46,000 tons of coal, without including fresh water. The requirements of water would not be less than 30,000 tons in the six months, and of this the ships could distil about half without greatly increasing their coal consumption; the remainder, some 15,000 or 16,000 tons, would have to be brought to them. In time of war the requirements of coal would probably be nearly three times as great as in time of peace, and the requirements of ammunition--estimated in time of peace at 1140 tons--might easily be ten times as great. Thus in addition to the foregoing figures we have 16,000 tons of water, and in war time a further _minimum_ addition of some 90,000 tons of coal and 10,260 tons of ammunition, making in all a round total of 170,000 tons for a fleet of the size specified, which was approximately the strength of the China Fleet, under the command of Admiral Bridge, at the time when his paper was written. All these supplies have to be delivered or obtained periodically and at convenient intervals in the course of every six months. They are supplies which the ships must obtain as often as they want them without necessarily going back to their principal base for the purpose, and even the principal base must obtain them periodically from the home sources of supply. There are two alternative ways of maintaining this continuous stream of supply. One is that in advance of the principal base, what is called a secondary base should be established from which the ships can obtain the stores required, a continuous stream of transports bringing the stores required to the secondary base from sources farther afield, either from the principal base or from the home sources of supply. The other method is to have no secondary base--which, since it contains indispensable stores, must be furnished with some measure of local defence, and which, as a place of storage, may turn out to be in quite the wrong place for the particular operations in hand--but to seize and occupy a "flying base," neither permanent nor designated beforehand, but selected for the occasion according to the exigencies of the strategic situation, and capable of being shifted at will in response to any change in those exigencies. History shows that the latter method has been something like the normal procedure in war alike in times past and in the present day. The alternative method is perhaps rather adapted to the convenience of peace conditions than to the exigencies of war requirements. During his watch on Toulon Nelson established a flying base at Maddalena Bay, in Sardinia, and very rarely used the more distant permanent base at Gibraltar. Togo, as I have stated in an earlier chapter, established a flying base first at the Elliot Islands and afterwards at Dalny, during the war in the Far East. Instances might easily be multiplied to show in which direction the experience of war points, and how far that direction has been deflected by the possibly deceptive teaching of peace. I shall not, however, presume to pronounce _ex cathedrâ_ between two alternative methods each of which is sanctioned by high naval authority. I will only remark in conclusion that though the establishment of permanent secondary bases may, in certain exceptional cases, be defensible and even expedient, yet their multiplication, beyond such exceptional cases of proved and acknowledged expediency, is very greatly to be deprecated. The old rule applies--_Entia non sunt præter necessitatem multiplicanda._ * * * * * My task is now finished--I will not say completed, for the subject of naval warfare is far too vast to be exhausted within the narrow compass of a Manual. I should hardly exaggerate if I said that nearly every paragraph I have written might be expanded into a chapter, and every chapter into a volume, and that even so the subject would not be exhausted. All I have endeavoured to do is to expound briefly and in simple language the nature of naval warfare, its inherent limitations as an agency for subduing an enemy's will, the fundamental principles which underlie its methods, and the concrete problems which the application of those methods presents. Tactical questions I have not touched at all; strategic questions only incidentally, and so far as they were implicated in the discussion of methods. Political issues and questions of international policy I have eschewed as far as might be, and so far as it was necessary to deal with them I have endeavoured to do so in broad and abstract terms. Of the many shortcomings in my handling of the subject no one can be more conscious than I am myself. Yet I must anticipate one criticism which is not unlikely to be made, and that is that I have repeated and insisted on certain phrases and ideas such as "command of the sea," "control of maritime communications," "the fleet in being," "blockade," and the like, until they might almost be regarded as an obsession. Rightly or wrongly that has, at any rate, been done of deliberate intent. The phrases in question are in all men's mouths. The ideas they stand for are constantly misunderstood, misinterpreted, and misapplied. I hold that, rightly understood, they embody the whole philosophy of naval warfare. I have therefore lost no opportunity of insisting on them, knowing full well that it is only by frequent iteration that sound ideas can be implanted in minds not attuned to their reception. INDEX Aircraft, 121 Alabama, the, 109 Alexander, his conquest of Darius, 48 Allemand, his escape from Rochefort, 66, 67 Amiens, Peace of, 73 _Animus pugnandi_, 46, 47, 48, 49, 55, 58, 59, 61, 78 Antony, Mark, 72 Armada, the, 79, 112 Bacon, quoted, 6 Baraille, De, his part in the Dunkirk campaign, 87, 88 Barham, Lord, 18, 64; and Nelson, 66, 67; his conduct of the Trafalgar campaign, 118 Base, flying, 142; naval, 137 Battle-cruiser, its functions, 122-128 Beachy Head, Battle of, 32, 35; campaign of, 70, 78 Berlin Decrees, 100 Bettesworth, 118 Blockade, 17; a form of disputed command, 20-29; military, its methods, 23; military and commercial, 21 Bolt from the blue, 80, 89 Boscawen, at Lagos, 79 Brest, 33, 35; blockaded by Cornwallis, 30; blockaded by Hawke, 79; De Roquefeuil at, 81, 82 Bridge, Admiral Sir Cyprian, on a fleet in being, 31; on supply and communications of a fleet, 140; his estimate of Torrington, 32, 40; on Torrington's trial, 42 Brundusium, Cæsar at, 72 Cadiz, Killigrew at, 34 Cæsar, his Pharsalian campaign, 71, 72 Calais, the Armada at, 79 Calder, his action off Finisterre, 118; Barham's instructions to, 64 Camperdown, Duncan at, 126 Cape St Vincent, meeting of Nelson with Craig and Knight off, 65 Capital ships, 113 Carthagena, Spanish ships at, 66 Charles, Prince, 82 Château-Renault, 33, 35 Clausewitz, his definition of war, 4; on limited and unlimited war, 5, 22 Colomb, Admiral, on differentiation of naval force, 114; on Torrington's strategy, 40, 43, 79 Command of the sea, 6, 10, 11-19, 20, 21, 50, 52, 54, 71, 94, 98, 121, 133, 134, 135; its true meaning, 15, 135; no meaning except in war, 15, 135 Command of the sea, disputed, in general, 49-67 Commerce, maritime, extent of British, 53; in war, 93-110; its modern conditions, 101-110 Concentration of naval force, its conditions, 132 Conflans, at Brest, 79 Corbett, Mr Julian, 62, 67; on the Dunkirk campaign, 89; on commerce in war, 105; on Craig's expedition, 61, 66; on projects of invasion, 77; on the Trafalgar campaign, 118 Cornwallis, and the blockade of Brest, 18, 30 Craft, small, 57, 76 Craig, his expedition to the Mediterranean, 61-67 Cuba, its deliverance by the United States, 54 Dalny, Togo at, 26, 143 Dettingen, 80 Downs, the, Norris ordered to, 85 Duncan, at Camperdown, 126 Dungeness, Roquefeuil anchors at, 87; Norris at, 88; Norris and Roquefeuil at, 89 Dunkirk, troops collected at, 81; embargo at, 83; Saxe and Baraille at, 88 Egypt, Napoleon's descent on, 73 Elliott Islands, Togo at, 26, 143 Embargo, at Dunkirk, 83 Farragut, 7 Fleets, and base, their true relation, 138 Fleet in being, phrase first used by Torrington, 42; defined, 45, 58; a form of disputed command, 30-48 Fleets, supply of, 140 Food Supply, Royal Commission on, 99 Fortress fleet, 48, 58; Admiral Mahan on, 47, 55 Ganteaume, at Brest, 31 General chase, 125 General Staff, the, 117 Germany, Navy Law of 1900, 130 Goschen, Lord, quoted, 124 Gravelines, 79, 87 Gunfleet, the, 37, 40, 44 Hague Conference, 102 Hannay, Mr David, 100 Hannibal, his passage of the Alps, 61 Hardy, Nelson's, on big ships, 124 Hawke, 32; blockades Brest 79; at Quiberon Bay, 126 Hornby, Sir Geoffrey, on the command of the sea, 45 Invasion, 51, 68-92; dilemma of, 70 Invasion over sea, three ways of, 75 James II., 32 Justin of Nassau, and the Armada, 79 Killigrew, Vice-Admiral, 34, 37, 39, 40, 44, 78; his expedition to Cadiz, 34; his return to Plymouth, 35. Knight, Rear-Admiral, escorts Craig, 65 Lagos, Boscawen and De La Clue at, 79 Lepanto, Battle of, 112 Line of battle, the, 113 Lisbon, Craig and Knight at, 65 Lissa, Battle of, 8 Louis XIV., 33 Maddalena Bay, Nelson's base at, 143 Mahan, Admiral, on commerce at sea, 98, 99; on a fleet in being, 31, 43; on a fortress fleet, 47, 55; on Hannibal's passage of the Alps, 61; on Nelson, 48, 123; on territorial expansion, 52 Maida, Battle of, 66 Makaroff, Admiral, 47, 59 Manchuria, 59; Japanese successes in, 55 Maria Theresa, 80 Mary, Queen, her orders to Torrington, 40, 44 Mathews, his action off Toulon, 80; in the Mediterranean, 83, 84 Medina Sidonia, and the Armada, 79 Mediterranean, the, England's position in, 136, 137 Merchant vessels, conversion of into warships at sea, 101-104 Morbihan, the, troops collected in, 79 Napoleon, 30, 31; and the campaign of Trafalgar, 18, 19; his descent on Egypt, 61, 73; his ignorance of the sea, 74 Naval force, differentiation of, 111-128; distribution and supply of, 129-145 Naval strength, measure of, 129 Naval warfare, defined, 1; special characteristic of, 56; its limitations, 51; philosophy of, 145; its primary aim, 14 Nelson, 18, 32, 46, 123; his advanced squadron, 127; and Barham, 66, 67; his base at Maddalena Bay, 143; on the blockade of Toulon, 22; on Craig's expedition, 64; evaded by Napoleon, 73; evaded by Villeneuve, 63; at Trafalgar, 60; his Trafalgar Memorandum, 126; his pursuit of Villeneuve, 37, 38 Newcastle, Duke of, 83 Nile, Battle of the, 74 Norman Conquest, the, 68, 75 Norris, Sir John, 83; in the Downs, 87; leaves the Downs, 88; and Roquefeuil at Dungeness, 89; at St Helen's, 85, 86 North Sea, concentration in, 135 Orde, Sir John, raises the blockade of Cadiz, 65 Orders in Council, the British, 100 Parma, Duke of, and the Armada, 79 Peace strategy of position, 131, 132, 136 Philippines, the, acquired by the United States, 52 Pitt, 61, 62, 63, 67 Plymouth, Killigrew at, 35 Pompey, at Pharsalus, 71, 72 Port Arthur, 27; how blockaded by Togo, 26, 143; its capture by Japan, 54, 55; first Japanese attack on, 46; Russian fleet at, 47, 58 Pretender, the, 80 Privateering, 99, 101 Property, private, at sea, 95-97 Puerto Rico, acquired by the United States, 52 Quiberon Bay, Battle of, 79, 126 Rochefort, Allemand escapes from, 66, 67 Roquefeuil, De, at Brest, 81, 82; anchors at Dungeness, 87; puts to sea, 82; and Norris at Dungeness, 89; off the Start, 84, 86 Rozhdestvensky, at Tsu-Shima, 60 Sampson, Admiral, 46 Santiago, 46; its capture by the United States, 54 Saxe, Marshal, at Dunkirk, 81; with Baraille at Dunkirk, 88 Sea, its characteristics, 13 Sea power, 6, 10, 13, 52, 55 Sea transport, 14 Sebastopol, siege of, 6, 46 Shovel, Sir Cloudesley, 33, 35, 39, 40, 44, 78 Sovereignty of the Seas, 49, 50 St Helen's, Norris at, 85, 86 Start, the, De Roquefeuil off, 84, 86 Submarine, the, 24, 120, 121 Supply, of fleets, two alternative methods of, 142 Syracuse, Athenian expedition to, 61 Talavera, Battle of, 73 Teignmouth, French raid on, 42 Telegraphy, wireless, 26, 117 Togo, Admiral, 59; his method of blockading Port Arthur, 26, 143 Torbay, Tourville's projected descent on, 33 Torpedo craft, 24, 57, 69, 120 Torpedo, the locomotive, 24 Torrington, Arthur Herbert, Earl of, 34, 35, 36, 47, 78; anchors at Beachy Head, 41; Admiral Bridge on, 32, 40, 42; Colomb on, 43; on a fleet in being, 32, 42; ordered to give battle, 44; his strategy, 38, 39; tried by Court Martial, 42; warns Mary and her Council, 40 Toulon, Château-Renault at, 33 Tourville, 33, 34, 43, 44, 48, 70, 78; at Brest, 35; in the Channel, 36 Trade routes, 104 Trafalgar, 63; campaign of, 90, 91; and Craig's expedition, 61; its significance, 19 Tsu-Shima, Battle of, its effects, 54, 55 Utrecht, Treaty of, 82 Villeneuve, pursued by Nelson, 37; driven out of the West Indies, 38; leaves Toulon, 63 War, defined, 1; its origin, 2; its primary object, 4; of American Independence, 99, 133; Boer, 8, 56, 94; civil, 1, 2; Crimean, 6; Cuban, 9, 46; in the Far East, 9; of 1859, 7; of 1866, 7; of 1870, 8, 54; of Secession in America, 2, 7; the Seven Years', 79 Wars, the Dutch, 93, 113 War Staff, 118, 119 Wellington, 73; his Peninsular Campaigns, 19 William the Conqueror, 68 William III., 32 Wolseley, Lord, on communications, 73 PRINTED BY TURNBULL AND SPEARS, EDINBURGH THE CAMBRIDGE MANUALS OF SCIENCE AND LITERATURE Published by the Cambridge University Press under the general editorship of P. Giles, Litt.D., Master of Emmanuel College, and A.C. Seward, F.R.S., Professor of Botany in the University of Cambridge. A series of handy volumes dealing with a wide range of subjects and bringing the results of modern research and intellectual activity within the reach both of the student and of the ordinary reader. 80 VOLUMES NOW READY HISTORY AND ARCHAEOLOGY 42 Ancient Assyria. By Rev. C.H.W. Johns, Litt.D. 51 Ancient Babylonia. By Rev. C.H.W. Johns, Litt.D. 40 A History of Civilization in Palestine. By Prof. R.A.S. Macalister, M.A., F.S.A. 78 The Peoples of India. By J.D. Anderson, M.A. 49 China and the Manchus. By Prof. H.A. Giles, LL.D. 79 The Evolution of Modern Japan. By J.H. Longford. 43 The Civilization of Ancient Mexico. By Lewis Spence. 60 The Vikings. By Prof. Allen Mawer, M.A. 24 New Zealand. By the Hon. Sir Robert Stout, K.C.M.G., LL.D., and J. Logan Stout, LL.B. (N.Z.). 76 Naval Warfare. By J.R. Thursfield, M.A. 15 The Ground Plan of the English Parish Church. By A. 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By Clement Reid, F.R.S. 72 The Fertility of the Soil. By E.J. Russell, D.Sc. BOTANY 5 Plant-Animals: a Study in Symbiosis. By Prof. F.W. Keeble. 10 Plant-Life on Land. By Prof. F.O. Bower, Sc.D., F.R.S. 19 Links with the Past in the Plant-World. By Prof. A.C. Seward, F.R.S. PHYSICS 52 The Earth. By Prof. J.H. Poynting, F.R.S. 53 The Atmosphere. By A.J. Berry, M.A. 65 Beyond the Atom. By John Cox, M.A. 55 The Physical Basis of Music. By A. Wood, M.A. 71 Natural Sources of Energy. By Prof. A.H. Gibson, D.Sc. PSYCHOLOGY 14 An Introduction to Experimental Psychology. By Dr. C.S. Myers. 45 The Psychology of Insanity. By Bernard Hart, M.D. 77 The Beautiful. By Vernon Lee. INDUSTRIAL AND MECHANICAL SCIENCE 31 The Modern Locomotive. By C. Edgar Allen, A.M.I.Mech.E. 56 The Modern Warship. By E.L. Attwood. 17 Aerial Locomotion. By E.H. Harper, M.A., and Allan E. Ferguson, B.Sc. 18 Electricity in Locomotion. By A.G. Whyte, B.Sc. 63 Wireless Telegraphy. By Prof. C.L. Fortescue, M.A. 58 The Story of a Loaf of Bread. By Prof. T.B. Wood, M.A. 47 Brewing. By A. Chaston Chapman, F.I.C. * * * * * "A very valuable series of books which combine in a very happy way a popular presentation of scientific truth along with the accuracy of treatment which in such subjects is essential.... In their general appearance, and in the quality of their binding, print, and paper, these volumes are perhaps the most satisfactory of all those which offer to the inquiring layman the hardly earned products of technical and specialist research."--_Spectator_ "A complete set of these manuals is as essential to the equipment of a good school as is an encyclopaedia.... We can conceive no better series of handy books for ready reference than those represented by the Cambridge Manuals."--_School World_ Cambridge University Press C.F. Clay, Manager LONDON: Fetter Lane, E.C. EDINBURGH: 100 Princes Street 
15299	----	Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustrations. See 15299-h.htm or 15299-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/1/5/2/9/15299/15299-h/15299-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/1/5/2/9/15299/15299-h.zip) DRAKE, NELSON AND NAPOLEON Studies by SIR WALTER RUNCIMAN, BART Illustrated London T. Fisher Unwin Ltd. Adelphi Terrace 1919 DEDICATORY LETTER TO SIR JAMES KNOTT MY DEAR SIR JAMES, We have travelled far since those early days when you and I, who are of totally different tastes and temperament, first met and became friends. I was attracted by your wide knowledge, versatile vigour of mind, and engaging personality, which subsequent years have not diminished. You were strenuously engaged at that time in breaking down the weevilly traditions of a bygone age, and helping to create a new era in the art of steamship management, and, at the same time, studying for the Bar; and were I writing a biography of you, I would have to include your interesting travels in distant lands in quest of business and organizing it. That must be left for another occasion, when the vast results to the commercial life of the country to which you contributed may be fittingly told. At the present time my vision recalls our joyous yachting cruises on the Clyde, when poor Leadbitter added to the charm that stays. Perhaps best of all were the golden days when we habitually took our week-end strolls together by the edge of the inspiriting splendour of the blue North Sea, strolls which are hallowed by many memories, and gave me an opportunity of listening to your vehement flashes of human sympathies, which are so widely known now. It is my high appreciation of those tender gifts and of your personal worth, together with the many acts of kindness and consideration shown to me when I have been your guest, that gives me the desire to inscribe this book to you and Lady Knott, and to the memory of your gallant sons, Major Leadbitter Knott, D.S.O., who was killed while leading his battalion in a terrific engagement in Flanders, and Captain Basil Knott, who fell so tragically a few months previously at his brother's side. With every sentiment of esteem, I am, dear Sir James, Ever yours sincerely, WALTER RUNCIMAN. March 1919. PREFACE This book has evolved from another which I had for years been urged to write by personal friends. I had chatted occasionally about my own voyages, related incidents concerning them and the countries and places I had visited, the ships I had sailed in, the men I had sailed with, and the sailors of that period. It is one thing to tell sea-tales in a cosy room and to enjoy living again for a brief time in the days that are gone; but it is another matter when one is asked to put the stories into book form. Needless to say for a long time I shrank from undertaking the task, but was ultimately prevailed upon to do so. The book was commenced and was well advanced, and, as I could not depict the sailors of my own period without dealing--as I thought at the time--briefly with the race of men called buccaneers who were really the creators of the British mercantile marine and Navy, who lived centuries before my generation, I was obliged to deal with some of them, such as Hawkins, Drake, Frobisher, Daimper, Alexander Selkirk of Robinson Crusoe fame, and others who combined piracy with commerce and sailorism. After I had written all I thought necessary about the three former, I instinctively slipped on to Nelson as the greatest sea personality of the beginning of the last century. I found the subject so engrossing that I could not centre my thoughts on any other, so determined to continue my narrative, which is not, and never was intended to be a life of Nelson. Perhaps it may be properly termed fragmentary thoughts and jottings concerning the life of an extraordinary human force, written at intervals when I had leisure from an otherwise busy life. Even if I had thought it desirable, it was hardly possible to write about Nelson without also dealing with Britain's great adversary and Nelson's distracted opinion of him. It would be futile to attempt to draw a comparison between the two men. The one was a colossal human genius, and the other, extraordinary in the art of his profession, was entirely without the faculty of understanding or appreciating the distinguished man he flippantly raged at from his quarterdeck. But be that as it may, Nelson's terrific aversion to and explosions against the French and Napoleon, in whose history I had been absorbed for many years, seem to me to be the deliberate outpouring of a mind governed by feeling rather than by knowledge as to the real cause of the wars and of how we came to be involved and continue in them. Nor does he ever show that he had any clear conception of the history of Napoleon's advent as the Ruler of the People with whom we were at war. I have given this book the title of "Drake, Nelson and Napoleon" because it seemed to me necessary to bring in Drake, the prototype, and Napoleon, the antagonist of Nelson. Drake's influence bore fruit in what is known as the Fleet Tradition, which culminated in the "Nelson touch." No excuse is needed, therefore, for writing a chapter which shows how little the seaman's character has changed in essentials since that time. To-day, our sailors have the same simple direct force which characterized the Elizabethan seamen and those of Nelsonian times. Of Napoleon I have written fully in my book "The Tragedy of St. Helena," and have contented myself here with pointing out how the crass stupidity and blind prejudice of his opponents have helped largely to bring about the world-war of our own times. I have also endeavoured to contrast the statesmanlike attitude of Napoleon with the short-sighted policy of England's politicians and their allies at that time. Having planned the book on such lines, it inevitably follows that Nelson must occupy a larger space in it than either Drake or Napoleon, but for that I offer no apology. WALTER RUNCIMAN. March 1919. CONTENTS DEDICATORY LETTER PREFACE 1. DRAKE AND THE FLEET TRADITION 2. NELSON AND HIS CIRCLE TRAFALGAR, OCT. 21st, 1805 (_a_) BRITISH ORDER OF BATTLE (_b_) A LIST OF THE COMBINED FLEET OF FRANCE AND SPAIN 3. NAPOLEON AND HIS CONNECTION WITH THE WORLD-WAR 4. SEA SONGS APPENDIX: SOME INCIDENTS OF NELSON'S LIFE (CHRONOLOGICALLY ARRANGED) INDEX ILLUSTRATIONS LINE OF BATTLE SHIP (EARLY EIGHTEENTH CENTURY) DRAKE NELSON LADY HAMILTON AS "A SIBYL" CAPTAIN HARDY (OF THE "VICTORY") "PRINCESS CHARLOTTE."--FRIGATE (EARLY NINETEENTH CENTURY) H.M.S. "VICTORY" GOING INTO BATTLE AT TRAFALGAR ADMIRAL COLLINGWOOD THE EMPEROR NAPOLEON AFTER HIS ACCESSION DRAKE AND THE FLEET TRADITION I The great sailors of the Elizabethan era--Hawkins, Drake, Frobisher, Howard, Davis, and Sir Humphrey Gilbert--were the prototypes of the sailors of the nineteenth century. They discovered new lands, opened up new avenues of commerce, and combined these legitimate forms of enterprise with others which at this date would be regarded as rank piracy. Since, however, they believed themselves to be the ambassadors of God, they did everything in His name, whether it were the seizing of Spanish treasure or the annexing of new worlds by fair means or foul, believing quite sincerely in the sanctity of what they did with a seriousness and faith which now appear almost comic. For many years the authorities of the Inquisition had plundered goods and put to death English seamen and merchants, and Spanish Philip, when remonstrated with, shrugged his shoulders and repudiated the responsibility by saying that he had no power over the "Holy House." Drake retaliated by taking possession of and bringing to England a million and a half of Spanish treasure while the two countries were not at war. It is said that when Drake laid hands on the bullion at Panama he sent a message to the Viceroy that he must now learn not to interfere with the properties of English subjects, and that if four English sailors who were prisoners in Mexico were ill-treated he would execute two thousand Spaniards and send him their heads. Drake never wasted thought about reprisals or made frothy apologetic speeches as to what would happen to those with whom he was at religious war if they molested his fellow-countrymen. He met atrocity with atrocity. He believed it to be his mission to avenge the burning of British seamen and the Spanish and Popish attempts on the life of his virgin sovereign. That he knew her to be an audacious flirt, an insufferable miser, and an incurable political intriguer whose tortuous moves had to be watched as vigilantly as Philip's assassins and English traitors, is apparent from reliable records. His mind was saturated with the belief in his own high destiny, as the chosen instrument to break the Spanish power in Europe. He was insensible to fear, and knew how to make other people fear and obey him. He was not only an invincible crusader, but one of those rare personalities who have the power of infusing into his comrades his own courage and enthusiasm. The Spanish said he was "a magician who had sold his soul to the devil." The Spanish sailors, and Philip himself, together with his nobles, were terror-stricken at the mention of his name. He was to them an invincible dragon. Santa Cruz warned his compatriots that the heretics "had teeth, and could use them." Here is another instance, selected from many, of the fanatical superstitions concerning Drake's irresistible power. Medina Sidonia had deserted the Andalusian squadron. Drake came across the flagship. Her commander said he was Don Pedro de Valdes, and could only surrender on honourable terms. The English commander replied, "I am Drake, and have no time to parley. Don Pedro must surrender or fight." So Don Pedro surrendered to the gallant captain of the _Revenge_, and lavished him with praise, evidently glad to have fallen into the hands of so famous and generous a foe. Drake is said to have treated his captive with elaborate generosity, while his crew commandeered all the vast treasure. He then sent the galleon into Dartmouth Harbour, and set off with his prisoners to chase Medina Sidonia. In the whole range of Drake's adventurous career there does not appear to be any evidence of his having been possessed with the idea of supernatural assistance, though if perchance he missed any of Philip's treasure-ships he complacently reported "the reason" to those in authority as "being best known to God," and there the incident ended. On the other hand, the Deity was no mystery to him. His belief in a Supreme Power was real, and that he worked in harmony with It he never doubted. When he came across anything on land or sea which he thought should be appropriated for the benefit of his Queen and country, or for himself and those who were associated with him in his piratical enterprises, nothing was allowed to stand in his way, and, generally speaking, he paralysed all resistance to his arms into submission by an inexorable will and genius. The parsimonious Elizabeth was always slyly willing to receive the proceeds of his dashing deeds, but never unduly generous in fixing his share of them. She allowed her ships to lie rotting when they should have been kept in sound and efficient condition, and her sailors to starve in the streets and seaports. Never a care was bestowed on these poor fellows to whom she owed so much. Drake and Hawkins, on the other hand, saw the national danger, and founded a war fund called the "Chatham Chest"; and, after great pressure, the Queen granted £20,000 and the loan of six battleships to the Syndicate. Happily the commercial people gave freely, as they always do. What trouble these matchless patriots had to overcome! Intrigue, treason, religious fanaticism, begrudging of supplies, the constant shortage of stores and provisions at every critical stage of a crisis, the contradictory instructions from the exasperating Tudor Queen: the fleet kept in port until the chances of an easy victory over England's bitterest foes had passed away! But for the vacillation of the icy virgin, Drake's Portugal expedition would have put the triumph of the Spanish Armada to the blush, and the great Admiral might have been saved the anguish of misfortune that seemed to follow his future daring adventures for Spanish treasure on land and sea until the shadows of failure compassed him round. His spirit broken and his body smitten with incurable disease, the fleet under his command anchored at Puerto Bello after a heavy passage from Escudo de Veragua, a pestilential desert island. He was then in delirium, and on the 28th January, 1596, the big soul of our greatest seaman passed away beyond the veil. His body was put into a lead and oak coffin and taken a few miles out to sea, and amidst manifestations of great sorrow he was lowered down the side and the waters covered him over. Two useless prize ships were sunk beside him, and there they may still lie together. The fleet, having lost their guiding spirit, weighed anchor and shaped their course homewards. Drake was not merely a seaman and the creator of generations of sailors, but he was also a sea warrior of superb naval genius. It was he who invented the magnificent plan of searching for his country's enemies in every creek into which he could get a craft. He also imbued Her Gracious Majesty and Her Gracious Majesty's seamen with the idea that in warfare on sea or land it is a first principle to strike first if you wish to gain the field and hold it. Having smashed his antagonist, he regarded it as a plain duty in the name of God to live on his beaten foes and seize their treasures of gold, silver, diamonds, works of art, etc., wherever these could be laid hold of. The First Lady of the Land was abashed at the gallant sailor's bold piratical efforts. She would not touch the dirty, ill-gotten stuff until the noble fellow had told her the fascinating story of his matchless adventures and slashing successes. Doubtless the astute Admiral had learned that his blameless Queen was only averse to sharing with him the plunder of a risky voyage until he had assured her again and again that her cousin, Philip of Spain, had his voracious eye on her life, her throne, and all her British possessions, wherever they might be. The valiant seaman appears to have played daintily and to good effect with the diabolical acts of the Spaniards, such as the burning of English seamen, until they roused in Elizabeth the spirit of covetousness and retaliation. It was easy then for her incorruptible integrity (!) to surrender to temptation. A division of what had been taken from Philip's subjects was forthwith piously made. Elizabeth, being the chief of the contracting parties, took with her accustomed grace the queenly share. On one occasion she walked in the parks with Drake, held a royal banquet on board the notorious _Pelican_, and knighted him; while he, in return for these little attentions, lavished on his Queen presents of diamonds, emeralds, etc. The accounts which have been handed down to us seem, in these days, amazing in their cold-blooded defiance of honourable dealing. But we must face the hard facts of the necessity of retaliation against the revolting deeds of the Inquisition and the determined, intriguing policy of worming Popery into the hearts of a Protestant nation, and then we realize that Drake's methods were the "invention" of an inevitable alternative either to fight this hideous despotism with more desperate weapons and greater vigour than the languid, luxury-loving Spaniards had taken the trouble to create or succumb to their tremendous power of wealth and wickedness. Drake was the chosen instrument of an inscrutable destiny, and we owe it to him that the divided England of that day was saved from annihilation. He broke the power of Spain at sea, and established England as the first naval and mercantile Power in the world. He was the real founder of generations of seamen, and his undying fame will inspire generations yet unborn to maintain the supremacy of the seas. The callous, brutal attitude of Elizabeth towards a race of men who had given their lives and souls so freely in every form of danger and patriotic adventure because they believed it to be a holy duty is one of the blackest pages of human history. The cruelties of the Spanish Inquisition and the treatment of sailors in the galleys were only different in degree, and while there are sound reasons for condemning the Queen and the ruling classes of that time for conduct that would not be tolerated in these days, it is unquestionably true that it was a difficult task to keep under control the spirit of rebellion of that period, as it is to-day. Doubtless those in authority were, in their judgment, compelled to rule with a heavy hand in order to keep in check wilful breaches of discipline. Attempts to mutiny and acts of treason were incidents in the wonderful career of Francis Drake which frequently caused him to act with severity. Doughty, the Spanish spy, who was at one time a personal friend of Drake's, resolved to betray his commander. Doughty was caught in the act, tried by a court composed of men serving under Drake, found guilty, and after dining with the Admiral, chatting cheerfully as in their friendly days, they drank each other's health and had some private conversation not recorded; then Doughty was led to the place of execution and had his head chopped off, Drake exclaiming as it fell, "Lo, this is the end of traitors!" Then Drake relieved Fletcher of his duties as chaplain by telling him softly that he would "preach this day." The ship's company was called together and he exhorted them to harmony, warning them of the danger of discord. Then in his breezy phraseology he exclaims, "By the life of God, it doth even take my wits from me to think of it." The crew, it appears, was composed of gentlemen, who were obviously putting on airs, and sailors, who resented their swank as much as did the great captain. So Drake proceeds to lay the law down vehemently. "Let us show ourselves," said he, "all to be of one company, and let us not give occasion to the enemy to rejoice at our decay and overthrow. Show me the man that would refuse to set his hand to a rope, but I know that there is not any such here." Then he proceeds to drive home his plan of discipline with vigour. "And as gentlemen are necessary for government's sake in the voyage, so I have shipped them to that and to some further intent." He does not say quite what it is, but they doubtless understand that it is meant to be a warning lest he should be compelled to put them through some harsh form of punishment. He concludes his memorable address with a few candid words, in which he declares that he knows sailors to be the most envious people in the world and, in his own words, "unruly without government," yet, says he, "May I not be without them!" It is quite clear that Drake would have no class distinction. His little sermon sank deep into the souls of his crew, so that when he offered the _Marigold_ to those who had lost heart, to take them back to England, he had not only made them ashamed of their refractory conduct, but imbued them with a new spirit, which caused them to vie with each other in professions of loyalty and eagerness to go on with him and comply with all the conditions of the enterprise. The great commander had no room for antics of martyrdom. He gave human nature first place in his plan of dealing with human affairs. He did not allow his mind to be disturbed by trifles. He had big jobs to tackle, and he never doubted that he was the one and only man who could carry them to a successful issue. He took his instructions from Elizabeth and her blustering ministers, whom he regarded as just as likely to serve Philip as the Tudor Queen if it came to a matter of deciding between Popery and Protestantism. He received their instructions in a courtly way, but there are striking evidences that he was ever on the watch for their vacillating pranks, and he always dashed out of port as soon as he had received the usual hesitating permission. Once out of reach, he brushed aside imperial instructions if they stood in the way of his own definite plan of serving the best interests of his country, and if the course he took did not completely succeed--which was seldom the case--he believed "the reason was best known to God." John Hawkins and Francis Drake had a simple faith in the divine object they were serving. Hawkins thought it an act of high godliness to pretend that he had turned Papist, in order that he might revenge and rescue the remnant of his poor comrades of the San Juan de Ulloa catastrophe, who were now shut up in Seville yards and made to work in chains. Sir John hoodwinked Philip by making use of Mr. George Fitzwilliam, who in turn made use of Rudolfe and Mary Stuart. Mary believed in the genuineness of the conspiracy to assassinate Elizabeth and set up the Queen of Scots in her place, to hand over Elizabeth's ships to Spain, confiscate property, and to kill a number of anti-Catholic people. The Hawkins counterplot of revenge on Philip and his guilty confederates was completely successful. The comic audacity of it is almost beyond belief. The Pope had bestowed his blessing on the conspiracy, and the Spanish Council of State was enthusiastically certain of its success. So credulous were they of the great piratical seaman's conversion, that an agreement was signed pardoning Hawkins for his acts of piracy in the West Indies and other places; a Spanish peerage was given him together with £40,000, which was to be used for equipping the privateer fleet. The money was duly paid in London, and possibly some of it was used for repairing the British squadron which Hawkins had pronounced as being composed of the finest ships in the world for him to hand over to Philip, even though they had been neglected owing to the Queen's meanness. The plausible way in which the great seaman put this proposition caught the imagination of the negotiators. They were captivated by him. He had caused them to believe that he was a genuine seceder from heresy and from allegiance to the Queen of England, and was anxious to avow his penitence for the great sins he had committed against God and the only true faith, and to make atonement for them in befitting humility. All he asked for was forgiveness, and in the fullness of magnanimity they were possibly moved to ask if, in addition to forgiveness, a Spanish peerage, and £40,000, he would like to commemorate the occasion of his conversion by a further token of His Spanish Majesty's favour. It is easy to picture the apparent indifference with which he suggested that he did not ask for favours, but if he were to ask for anything, it would be the release from the Inquisition galleys of a few poor sailor prisoners. The apparently modest request was granted. Hawkins had risked his life to accomplish this, and now he writes a letter to Cecil beginning "My very good Lord." I do not give the whole of the letter. Suffice it to say that he confirms the success of the plot so far as he is concerned, and in a last paragraph he says, "I have sent your Lordship the copy of my pardon from the King of Spain, in the order and manner I have it, with my great titles and honours from the King, from which God deliver me." The process by which Hawkins succeeded in obtaining the object he had in view was the conception of no ordinary man. We talk and write of his wonderful accomplishments on sea and land, as a skilful, brave sailor, but he was more than that. He was, in many respects, a genius, and his courage and resolution were unfailingly magnificent. I dare say the prank he played on Philip and his advisers would be regarded as unworthy cunning, and an outrage on the rules of high honour. Good Protestant Christians disapproved then, as now, the wickedness of thus gambling with religion to attain any object whatsoever, and especially of swearing by the Mother of God the renunciation of the Protestant faith and the adoption of Roman Catholicism. The Spaniards, who had a hand in this nefarious proceeding, were quite convinced that, though Hawkins had been a pirate and a sea robber and murderer, now that he had come over to their faith the predisposition to his former evil habits would leave him. These were the high moral grounds on which was based the resolve to execute Elizabeth and a large number of her subjects, and take possession of the throne and private property at their will. It was, of course, the spirit of retaliation for the iniquities of the British rovers which was condoned by their monarch. In justification of our part of the game during this period of warfare for religious and material ascendancy, we stand by the eternal platitude that in that age we were compelled to act differently from what we should be justified in doing now. Civilization, for instance, so the argument goes, was at a low ebb then. I am not so sure that it did not stand higher than it does now. It is so easy for nations to become uncivilized, and we, in common with other nations, have a singular aptitude for it when we think we have a grievance. Be that as it may, Hawkins, Drake, and the other fine sea rovers had no petty scruples about relieving Spaniards of their treasure when they came across it on land or on their ships at sea. Call them by what epithet you like, they believed in the sanctity of their methods of carrying on war, and the results for the most part confirmed the accuracy of their judgment. At any rate, by their bold and resolute deeds they established British freedom and her supremacy of the seas, and handed down to us an abiding spirit that has reared the finest seamen and established our incomparable merchant fleet, the largest and finest in the world. There is no shame in wishing the nation to become imbued with the spirit of these old-time heroes, for the heritage they have bequeathed to us is divine and lives on. We speak of the great deeds they were guided to perform, but we rarely stop to think from whence the inspiration came, until we are touched by a throbbing impulse that brings us into the presence of the great mystery, at which who would dare to mock? It is strange that Hawkins' and Drake's brilliant and tragic careers should have been brought to an end by the same disease within a short time of each other and not many miles apart, and that their mother, the sea, should have claimed them at last in the vicinity of the scene of their first victorious encounter with their lifelong enemies, the Spaniards. The death of the two invincibles, who had long struck terror into the hearts of their foes, was the signal for prolonged rejoicings in the Spanish Main and the Indies, while the British squadron, battered and disease-smitten, made its melancholy way homeward with the news of the tragedy. For a time the loss of these commanding figures dealt a blow at the national spirit. There are usually long intervals between Cæsars and Napoleons. Nations have, in obedience to some law of Nature, to pass through periods of mediocre rule, and when men of great genius and dominating qualities come to clear up the mess, they are only tolerated possibly by fear, and never for long by appreciation. A capricious public soon tires of these living heroes. It is after they are dead that they become abiding examples of human greatness, not so much to their contemporaries as to those generations that follow them. The historian has a great deal to do with the manner in which the fame of a great man is handed down to posterity, and it should never be forgotten that historians have to depend on evidence which may be faulty, while their own judgment may not always be sound. It is a most difficult task to discipline the mind into a perfectly unbiased condition. The great point is to state honestly what you believe, and not what you may know those you are speaking to wish you to say. The contemporaries of Hawkins and Drake unquestionably regarded them with high admiration, but I question whether they were deified then as they are now. The same thing applies to Nelson and Collingwood, of whom I shall speak later on, as the historian has put the stamp upon their great deeds also. Drake and Hawkins attracted attention because of their daring voyages and piratical enterprises on Spanish property on sea and land. Every obstacle was brushed aside. Danger ever appealed to them. They dashed into fortified ports filled with warships fully equipped, silenced the forts, sank and set fire to Philip's vessels, and made everything and everybody fly before them in the belief that hell had been let loose. To the superstitious Spanish mind it seemed as though the English must be under Satanic protection when they slashed their way undaunted into the midst of dangers which would inevitably spell death for the mere mortal. These corsairs of ours obviously knew and took advantage of this superstition, for cannon were never resorted to without good reason, and never without effect. The deliberate defiance of any written or unwritten law that forbade their laying hands on the treasure they sought so diligently, and went far and near to find, merely increased public admiration. Elizabeth pretended that they were very trying to her Christian virtues. But leave out of count the foregoing deeds--which no one can dispute were prodigious, and quite equal to the part these men played in the destruction of the Armada--what could be more dashingly brilliant in naval warfare than Drake's raids on San Domingo, Carthagena, Cadiz, and other ports and cities of old and new Spain, to which I have already briefly alluded? It was their great successes in their great undertakings, no matter whether it was "shocking piracy" or not, that immortalized these terrible creators of England's greatness all the world over! Thomas Cobham, a member of a lordly and Protestant family, became a sailor, and soon became fascinated with the gay life of privateering. Once when in command of a vessel, eagerly scouring the seas for Spanish prizes, one was sighted, bound from Antwerp to Cadiz. Cobham gave chase, easily captured her in the Bay of Biscay, and discovered there were forty Inquisition prisoners aboard. After rescuing the prisoners, the captain and crew of the Spanish vessel were then sewn up in their own mainsail and tossed into the sea, no doubt with such sententious expressions of godliness as was thought befitting to sacred occasions of that period. This ceremony having been performed, the vessel was scuttled, so that she might nevermore be used in trading with British sailors or any one else for Inquisition purposes. When the story became known, the case was discreetly inquired into, and very properly the gallant Cobham was never punished, and was soon running here and there at his old game. It may be taken for granted that there was no mincing matters when an opportunity for reprisals occurred. The Spaniards had carried barbarism to such a pitch in seizing our ships and condemning their crews to the galleys, that Queen Elizabeth was never averse to meeting murder and plunder by more than the equivalent in retaliation, except when she imagined that Philip was showing signs of overpowering strength; she then became timid and vacillating. She was never mentally disturbed by the moral side of the great deeds that brought her vast stores of plunder. Moreover, she could always find an accommodating bishop to put her qualms (if she ever had any, except those of consequence to herself) at rest on points of conscience. One noted personage, who held high ecclesiastical office, told her that it was a virtue to seize treasure when she knew it would otherwise be used for the purpose of murdering her Protestant subjects. Sir Arthur Champernowne, a noted vice-admiral of Elizabeth's reign, in writing to Cecil of the vessel that had put into Plymouth through stress of weather with the needy Philip's half-million of ducats on board, borrowed, it is said, from a Genoa firm of financiers, said it should be claimed as fair booty. Sir Arthur's view was that anything taken from so perfidious a nation was both necessary and profitable to the Commonwealth. No doubt a great deal of pious discussion would centre round the Vice-Admiral's easy moral but very logical opinions. The main thing in his mind, and in that of everybody else who was free from poisoned cant, was that the most shocking crimes were being openly advocated by Philip, King of Spain, against all European Protestants, rich or poor, who came within the clutches of the savages that administered the cruelties of the Inquisition. The canting crowd shrieked against the monstrous impiety of such notions, but their efforts to prove purity of motive were unavailing. After considered thought by a committee of men of high rectitude, it was decided to act without fear or favour in a strictly impartial manner, so Philip's half-million of bullion was divided between the Prince of Orange and the rigid moralist, Elizabeth, who is credited with having spent her share on the Navy, a very admirable way of disposing of it. This act was the cause of a deluge of reprisals on the part of Spain. But, from all accounts, Elizabeth's corsairs had always the best of it in matters of material importance. The Spanish are naturally a proud, brave race. In the middle of the sixteenth century their power dominated two-thirds of the universe, and had they stuck to business, and not so feverishly to the spreading of their religious faith by violent means, they might have continued a predominant nation. Their civil, naval, and military position was unequalled. The commerce and wealth of the whole world was pre-eminently in their hands, and in common with other nations who arrive at heights of power, prosperity, and grandeur (which last sits so easily on the Spaniard), they gave way to pleasures and to the luxury of laziness which invariably carries with it sensuality. Wherever they found themselves in the ascendancy, they intrigued to impose the Roman faith on the population, and if that method did not succeed with felicity, whenever the agents of their governing classes, including their king, met with opposition from prominent men or women, their opponents were put to the rack, burnt, or their heads sent flying. In this country no leading Protestant's life or property was safe. Even Elizabeth, during the reign of her half-sister, Mary, was obliged to make believe that her religious faith was Roman in harmony with that of the Queen. It was either adoption, deception, or execution, and the future queen outwitted all their traps and inventions until Mary passed on, and Elizabeth took her place on the throne. Meanwhile, Spain, as I have indicated, was tampering with abiding laws. Catastrophe always follows perilous habits of life, which were correctly attributed to the Spanish. As with individuals, so it is with nations; pride can never successfully run in conjunction with the decadence of wealth. It is manifestly true that it is easier for a nation to go up than to realize that it has come down, and during long years Spain has had to learn this bitter lesson. It was not only imperious pride of race and extravagant grandeur that brought the destruction of her supremacy of the seas, and the wealth and supremacy of many lands, but their intolerable religious despotism towards those who were not already, and refused to become, as I have said, adherents of the Roman Catholic creed. Poor wretches who were not strong enough to defend themselves had the mark of heretics put on them; and for nearly thirty years Spaniards carried on a system of burning British seamen whenever they could lay hands on them. They kept up a constant system of spying and plotting against the British Protestant Queen and her subjects of every position in life. The policy of the Spanish King and government was to make the British and other races vassals of the Pope. Philip, like all powerful monarchs and individuals who are put into power without any of the qualities of fitness to fill a high post, always believed that his presence on earth was an act of supreme Providence. Philip, in proclaiming his glorious advent for the good of mankind, explained it with a decorum that had a fascinating flavour. Unlike some imitators of great personalities, he was never vulgarly boastful in giving expression to the belief that his power came from above and would be sustained by the mystery that gave him it in such abundance, but, in fact, he never doubted what was known as the doctrine of the divine right of kings. The human support which kept him in authority did not enter into his calculations. The popular notions of the democracies then was that no physical force could sever the alliance which existed between God and monarchs; and there is no evidence that Philip was ever disillusioned. He regarded his adversaries, especially Hawkins and Drake, in the light of magicians possessed of devilish spirits that were in conflict with the wishes of the Deity. His highly placed and best naval officer, Santa Cruz, took a more realistic view than his master, though he might have had doubts as to whether the people who were at war with Spain were not a species of devil. But he expressed the view which even at this distance of time shows him to have been a man of sane, practical thought. Philip imagined he could agree with the acts of assassins (and also support the Holy Office) in their policy of burning English sailors as heretics. Santa Cruz reflected more deeply, and advised the King that such acts were positively courting disaster, because "the British corsairs had teeth, and could use them." Spain looked upon her naval position as impregnable, but Elizabeth's pirates contemptuously termed it "a Colossus stuffed with clouts." Priests, crucifixes, and reliance on supernatural assistance had no meaning for them. If any suggestion to impose on them by such means had been made, they would have cast the culprits over the side into the sea. They were peculiarly religious, but would tolerate no saintly humbugs who lived on superstition. When they had serious work in hand, they relied on their own mental and physical powers, and if they failed in their objective, they reverently remarked, "The reason is best known to God"--a simple, unadorned final phrase. Some of the sayings and doings, reliable or unreliable, that have been handed down to us, are extremely comical, looking at them from our religious standpoint in these days; for instance, Drake's method of dealing with insubordination, his idea of how treason was to be stamped out, and the trial of Doughty, the traitor. People who sit in cosy houses, which these early sailors made it possible for them in other days and now to acquire, may regard many of the disciplinary methods of Drake and his sea contemporaries as sheer savage murder, but these critics are not quite qualified to judge as to the justice or injustice of the actions of one man who is responsible for the safe and proper navigation of a vessel, no matter whether on an enterprising voyage of piracy, fair trade, or invasion. If a nautical project is to be carried out with complete success, the first element in the venture is discipline, and the early seafarers believed this, as their successors have always done, especially during the different periods of the sailing-ship era. A commander, if he wishes to be successful in keeping the spirit of rebellion under, must imbue those under him with a kind of awe. This only succeeds if the commander has a magnetic and powerful will, combined with quick action and sound, unhesitating judgment. All the greatest naval and military chiefs have had and must have now these essential gifts of nature if they are to be successful in their art. The man of dashing expediency without judgment or knowledge is a great peril in any responsible position. When either a ship or nation or anything else is in trouble, it is the cool, calculating, orderly administrator, who never makes chaos or destructive fuss, that succeeds. That is essential, and it is only this type of person that so often saves both ships, armies, and nations from inevitable destruction. The Duke of Wellington used to say that "In every case, the winning of a battle was always a damned near thing." One of the most important characteristics of Drake's and Hawkins' genius was their fearless accurate methods of putting the fear of God into the Spaniards, both at sea and ashore. The mention of their names made Philip's flesh creep. Even Admiral Santa Cruz, in common with his compatriots, thought Drake was "The Serpent"--"The Devil." And the Spanish opinion of him helped Drake to win many a tough battle. Amongst the thrilling examples are his dashes into Corunna and Cadiz. Drake never took the risk before calculating the cost and making certain of where the vulnerable weak spot of the enemy lay, and when and where to strike it. The complete vanquishing of the Armada is another instance of Drake's great qualities of slashing yet sound judgment put accurately into effect. Of course, the honours of the defeat of the Armada must always be shared with other naval experts who had acquired their knowledge of sea warfare in what is called the piratical line. But the spirit that inflamed the whole British fleet was that of Drake, Hawkins, Frobisher, Seymour, and Howard, and the inspiration came mainly from the two former. On the Spanish side, as a naval battle, it was a fiasco, a mere colossal clerical burlesque. Neither naval strategy nor ordinary seamanship was in evidence on the part of the chief commander or his admirals. The men fought with rough-and-tumble heroism. The sailors were only second in quality to our own, but there was no plan of battle, and the poor Duke of Medina Sidonia had neither knowledge of naval affairs nor courage. Philip's theory seems to have been that any lack of efficiency in the art of war by his commanders would be made up by the spiritual encouragement of the priests dangling their crucifixes about the decks amongst the sailors and soldiers, who had been put through a course of instruction on spiritual efficacy before sailing on their doomed expedition. They were made to believe that the Spanish cause was so just that assistance would be given from God to defeat the "infernal devils" and to invade their country. This great battle transferred the sea supremacy from the Spanish to the British, who have held it, with one interval, ever since, and will continue to hold it, provided that Philip's theories of relying merely on the help that comes from above be supplemented by, first, the appointment of a proper head at the Admiralty with some nautical instinct and knowledge of affairs; and secondly, the keeping up of an efficient fleet, manned with efficient officers and men. Heaven helps those who help themselves. No department of government can be properly managed by novices. The reckless, experimental appointment of untried men to positions of grave responsibility on which the happiness, comfort, and life of the whole public may depend, and the very existence of the country be put in jeopardy, is a gamble, and may be a crime. It is always risky to assume that any person holding authority in the bigger affairs of life is in consequence an instrument of Providence. Had the conception of the Armada and the organization of every detail been put into the hands of experienced and trained experts with sound judgment in naval matters, such as Admiral Santa Cruz, and had it not been for Philip and his landsman ideas of the efficacy of priests and crucifixes, and greenhorns such as the Duke of Medina Sidonia and his landlubber colleagues, Spain might never have been involved in the Armada fight, and if she had, it is scarcely likely that so appalling a disaster could have come to her. Apart from any fighting, the fact of having no better sea knowledge or judgment than to anchor the Spanish ships in an open roadstead like Calais was courting the loss of the whole Spanish fleet. One of the fundamental precautions of seamanship is never to anchor on a lee shore or in an open roadstead, without a means of escape. The dunderheaded Spanish commanders made their extermination much more easy for the highly trained British seamen of all grades, none of whom had any reason to hide their heads in shame for any part they individually took in the complete ruin of the Spanish Navy. One cannot read the sordid story without feeling a pang of pity for the proud men, such as Recaldo, who died on landing at Bilbao; or Oquendo, whose home was at Santander. He refused to see his wife and children, turned his face to the wall, and died of a broken heart begotten of shame. The soldiers and sailors were so weak they could not help themselves, and died in hundreds on the ships that crawled back to Spain. The tragic fate of these vessels and their crews that were dashed to pieces on the rocks of the Hebrides and Ireland added greatly to the tale of horror. Philip was crushed, but was a man of tender sympathies, and free from vindictive resentment against those who were placed in charge of his terrific and ill-fated navy. He worked and exhorted others to relieve the sufferers in every possible way. He obviously regarded the disaster as a divine rebuke, and submissively acquiesced with true Spanish indolence, saying that he believed it to be the "great purpose of Heaven." On the authority of the Duke of Parma, "The English regarded their victory with modesty, and were languidly indifferent to their valour." They looked upon the defeat of the Spanish Navy as a token of the Ruler of all things being decidedly partial to the Protestant faith. The Spaniards, as a whole, would not allow that Heaven was against them or that the verdict was that of Providence. They declared that it was entirely the result of the superior management of the English ships and the fighting quality of their crews. With this chivalrous testimonial no one could then or will now disagree. It was very sporting of them to admit the superiority of the British ships and seamanship. Drake and his compeers had reason to be proud of their efforts in the great naval contest. Their reputations were enhanced by it all over the world, though never a sign or word came from themselves about their gallantry. They looked upon these matters as mere incidents of their enterprising lives. II But it is really in the lesser sea encounters, though they probably had just as great results, that we become enthralled by Drake's adventurous voyages. The Armada affair was more like the battle of Trafalgar, one of the differences being that in the latter engagement the Spanish ships did not risk going far into the open sea, but wisely kept Cadiz open for retreat, which they availed themselves of after receiving a dreadful pounding. Drake's voyage in the _Pelican_ excelled anything that had ever been accomplished by previous sea rovers, and his expedition to the West Indies was a great feat. He always had trouble with Queen Elizabeth about money when organizing his voyages. Her Spanish brother-in-law's power was always in her thoughts. He never allowed her to forget that if he were provoked he would invade England, and notwithstanding her retort that England had a long arm which he would do well to fear, her courage alternated with some nervousness at times. Elizabeth was not so much concerned about his threat of excommunication of her as the sly tricks in conjunction with the Pope in spreading the spirit of rebellion in Ireland, and in other ways conspiring against her. Her mood was at one time to defy him, and at another conciliatory and fearful lest her pirate chiefs should do anything to provoke Spanish susceptibilities. Drake was much hampered by her moods when he wanted to get quickly to business, and never lost an opportunity of slipping out of her reach when his eloquence on the acquisition of untold wealth and the capture of some of Philip's distant colonies had appealed to her boundless avarice and made her conscience easy. His expedition to the West Indies might never have been undertaken had he not been a dare-devil fellow, to whom Burleigh's wink was as good as a nod to be off. He slipped out of port unknown to her, and his first prize was a large Spanish ship loaded with salt fish. He pounced upon her after passing Ushant, and the excellent cargo was suitably distributed amongst the fleet. There were 25 privateers, and a company of 2,500 men on this expedition. All were volunteers, and represented every grade of society, high and low. There was never any difficulty in getting a supply of men. On this occasion the applications largely outnumbered the posts available. Drake could always depend upon volunteers, and, like all men of superb action, he had no liking for conscription. He knew that in the performance and carrying out of great deeds (and nearly all of his were terrific) it is men aflame with courage and enthusiasm that carry the day, and take them as a whole, conscripts are never wholehearted. The two great characteristics of the British race--initiative and endurance--are due to this burning flame of voluntarism. The West India expedition was organized and all expenses guaranteed by private individuals. The capital was £60,000, and its allocation was £40,000 for expenses and £20,000 to be distributed amongst those who had volunteered to serve. Both men and officers had signed on without any stipulation for wages. They knew they were out for a piratical cruise, and welcomed any danger, great or small, that would give them a chance of making it not only a monetary success, but one that would give Spanish autocracy another shattering blow. These ancient mariners never trifled with life, and no sombre views or fatal shadows disturbed their spirited ambition or caused them to shrink from their strenuous and stupendous work. They went forth in their cockleshell fleet as full of hope and confidence as those who are accustomed to sail and man a transatlantic liner of the present day. Some of their vessels were but little larger than a present-day battleship's tender. Neither roaring forties nor Cape Horn hurricanes intimidated them. It is only when we stop to think, that we realize how great these adventurers were, and how much we owe to their sacred memories. In addition to being ridiculously small and shabby in point of efficiency in rigging, sails, and general outfit, it will always be a mystery how it was that so few were lost by stress of weather or even ordinary navigable risks. They were veritable boxes in design, and their rig alone made it impossible for them to make rapid passages, even if they had wished to do so. As I write these lines, and think of my own Western Ocean experiences in well-designed, perfectly equipped, large and small sailing vessels during the winter hurricane months, when the passages were made literally under water and every liquid mountain seemed to forebode immediate destruction, it taxes my nautical knowledge to understand how these inferior and smaller craft which Drake commanded did not succumb to the same elements that have carried superior vessels in later years to their doom. One reason that occurs to me is that they were never deeply laden, and they were accustomed to ride hurricanes out when they had plenty of sea room at their sea anchors. But nothing can detract from what our generation may describe as their eccentric genius in combining navigation with piracy and naval and military art. Talk about "human vision"! What is the good of it if it turns out nothing but unrestrained confusion? The men of the period I am writing about had real "vision," and applied it with accuracy without disorganizing the machinery of life and making the world a miserable place to live in. They were all for country and none for self. After the capture of the Spanish ship and the appropriation of her cargo of fish, Drake's fleet went lounging along towards Vigo. In due course he brought his ships to anchor in the harbour, and lost no time in coming in contact with Don Pedro Bendero, the Spanish governor, who was annoyed at the British Admiral's unceremonious appearance. Don Pedro said that he was not aware that his country was at war with Britain. Drake quickly disillusioned him, and demanded, "If we are not at war, why have English merchants been arrested?" Don Pedro said an order had come for their release. Drake landed forthwith a portion of his force, and seeing that he meant business that foreboded trouble, the governor sent him wine, fruit, and other luxurious articles of food in abundance. The ships were anchored in a somewhat open roadstead, so Drake resolved to take them farther up the waterway where they would lie comfortably, no matter from what direction the threatening storm might break. But he had another shrewd object in view, which was to make a beginning in acquiring any of the valuable and treasured possessions adorning the churches. A trusted officer who was in his confidence, and a great admirer of his wisdom and other personal qualities, was sent to survey the passage and to find a suitable anchorage. He was a man of enterprise, with a strong dislike to the Roman Catholic faith, and never doubted that he was perfectly justified in relieving the churches of plate and other valuables. These were, in his eyes, articles of idolatry that no man of puritanic and Protestant principles could refrain from removing and placing under the safe keeping of his revered chief, who was no more averse to robbing a church than he was to robbing a ship carrying gold or fish. As the vessel in charge of this intrepid officer, whose name was Carlile, approached the town where it was proposed to anchor the fleet the inhabitants fled, taking with them much of the church plate and other things which the British had covetously thought an appropriate prize of theirs. Carlile, being a man of resource, soon laid hold of other church treasure, which amply compensated for the loss of that which was carried off by the fleeing inhabitants at the mouth of the harbour. The day following Christopher Carlile's satisfactory survey the fleet was anchored off the town. The sight of it threw the whole district into panic. A pompous governor of Galicia hastened to Vigo, and on his arrival there he took fright at the number of ships and the dreaded name of the pirate chief who was in command. It would be futile to show fight, so he determined to accommodate himself to the Admiral's terms, which were that he should have a free hand to replenish the fleet with water and provisions, or any other odds and ends, without interference. This being accomplished, he agreed to sail, and no doubt the governor thought he had made a judicious bargain in getting rid of him so easily. But Drake all the time had the Spanish gold fleet in his mind. Sacrifices must be made in order that it may be captured, so off he went for the Cape de Verde islands, and found when he got there that the treasure-ships had arrived and sailed only a few hours before. The disappointment was, according to custom, taken with Christian composure. He had the aptitude of switching his mind from one form of warfare to another. As I have said, he would just as soon attack and plunder a city as a church or a ship. Drake had missed the gold fleet, so he turned his attention to the treasures of Santiago. When the governor and population were made aware that the distinguished visitor to their island was the terrible "El Draque," they and their spiritual advisers as usual flew to the mountains, without neglecting to take their money and priceless possessions with them. Drake looted as much as was left in the city of wine and other valuables, but he got neither gold nor silver, and would probably have left Santiago unharmed but for the horrible murder of one of his sailor-boys, whose body was found hacked to pieces. This settled the doom of the finest built city in the Old World. "El Draque" at once set fire to it and burnt it to ashes, with that thoroughness which characterized all such dealings in an age when barbaric acts justified more than equivalent reprisals. It would have been a wiser course for the governor to have treated for the ransom of the town than to have murdered a poor sailor lad who was innocently having a stroll. It is balderdash to talk of the Spaniards as being too proud to treat with a person whom they believed to be nothing better than a pirate. The Spaniards, like other nationalities, were never too proud to do anything that would strengthen or maintain their supremacy. Their apparent pride in not treating with Drake at Santiago and on other rare occasions was really the acme of terror at hearing his name; there was neither high honour nor grandee dignity connected with it. As to Philip's kingly pride, it consisted in offering a special reward of £40,000 to have Elizabeth's great sailor assassinated or kidnapped. There were many to whom the thought of the bribe was fascinating. Numerous attempts were made, but whenever the assassins came within sound of his name or sight of him or his ships they became possessed of involuntary twitchy sensations, and fled in a delirium of fear, which was attributed to his being a magician. As soon as Drake had avenged the sailor-boy's murder he sailed for the West Indies. When he got into the hot latitudes the plague of yellow fever appeared, and nearly three hundred of his men died in a few days. Arriving at Dominica, they found the Caribs had a deadly hatred of the Spanish, and when they learned that the British were at war with Spain they offered to prescribe a certain cure for yellow jack which was eminently effectual. After disinfecting the ships, and getting supplied with their requirements, the fleet left for San Domingo, via St. Kitts, which was uninhabited at that time. Domingo was one of the most beautiful and most wealthy islands in the world. Columbus and his brother, Diego, are buried in the cathedral there. The population believed themselves to be immune from harm or invasion on this distant island home, but Drake soon disillusioned them. His devoted lieutenant, Christopher Carlile, was selected as usual to find a suitable channel and landing, a hazardous and almost unattainable quest, but in his and Drake's skilful hands their object was accomplished. The ships were brought into port, and in his usual direct way Drake demanded that the garrison of the castle should surrender without parley, and it was done. Drake was not finished with them yet; he wished to know from the governor what terms he was prepared to offer in order that the city should be saved from pillage. A negro boy was sent with this dispatch, and raging with the disgrace of surrendering to the British Admiral, an officer ran a lance through the boy's body. The poor boy was just able to get back, and died immediately, close to where Drake was. The Spaniards had allowed their vicious pride to incite them to commit murder and to insult the British Admiral, who promptly avenged both deeds by having two friars taken to the place where the boy had been stabbed, and there hanged. "El Draque" sent a further note to the governor informing him that unless the officer who murdered his messenger was executed at once by the Spanish authorities he would hang two friars for every day that it was put off. Needless to say, no more friars were hung, as the officer paid the penalty of his crime without further delay. The lacerated dignity of the Spaniards was still further tried by the demand for the ransom of the city, and their procrastination cost them dear. Drake's theology was at variance with that of the Founder of our faith. His method was rigid self-assertion, and the power of the strong. The affront he conceived to have been laid upon him and upon the country he represented could only be wiped out by martial law. Theoretic babbling about equality had no place in his ethics of the universe. He proceeded to raid and burn both private dwellings, palaces, and magazines; and the Government House, which was reputed to be the finest building in the world, was operated upon for a month, until it was reduced to dust. These are some of the penalties that would have gladdened the heart of the gallant Beresford and his Albert Hall comrades of our time had they been carried out against the Germans, who have excelled the Spaniards of Philip's reign in cultured murder and other brutalities in a war that has cost William II his throne and brought the period of civilization perilously near its end. It may be that the instability of petty statesmanship is to disappear, and that Providence may have in unseen reserve a group of men with mental and physical powers capable of subduing human virulence and re-creating out of the chaos the Germans have made a new and enduring civilization; and when they shall appear their advent will be applauded by the stricken world. Incidentally, it may be added that the German nation, which has endangered the existence of civilization, would never have been despised or thought ill of on account of its defeat by the Allies. It is their unjustifiable method of beginning the war, and the dirty brutal tricks by which they sought to win it, which have created enduring mistrust and animosity against them. The law of human fairness is no more exacting to small communities or individuals than it is to nations. Drake continued his relentless reprisals against San Domingo. The burning of British sailors as heretics possessed his mind. The distracted governor would have given his soul to get rid of him, but Drake demanded money, and this the governor pleaded was not available, but he was ultimately forced to provide 25,000 ducats, equalling £50,000. This was accepted after the town had been shattered to pieces and the shipping destroyed. The cathedral was the only important building left intact, the probable reason being that the remains of the great navigator, Columbus, were entombed there. Already the mortality amongst Drake's crew had been alarmingly heavy, and he was too wise a man to gamble with their lives until the bad season came on, so he settled up and hurried away into the fresh sea breezes, determined to give many more Spanish possessions a thorough shaking up. The news that the freebooters were near at hand, and that they were committing shocking deeds of theft and destruction on the way, had filtered to the Carribean Sea, and struck the somnolent population with terror. Carthagena, a magnificent city and the capital of the Spanish Main, was Drake's next objective. He had large hopes of doing well there. The health of most of his crew had improved and was now robust, and their fighting spirits had been kindled to a high pitch by their gallant chief, whose eye of genius was centred on a big haul of material things. On arrival off the port, Carlile, whose resource and courage were always in demand, was put in charge of a strong force. He led the attack, mounted the parapets, drove the Spanish garrison away in confusion, killed the commander, and subsequently destroyed a large number of ships which were lazily lying in the port. Many English prisoners were released, which was a godsend in filling the places of those who had died. The combative pretensions of the governor had received a severe shock. He was beaten, and Drake, like a true sportsman, asked him and his suite to dine with him, and with an air of Spanish dignity he accepted. The occasion was memorable for the royal way the distinguished guests were treated. The governor was studiously cordial, and obviously wished to win the favour of his remorseless visitors, so asked Drake and his officers to do him the honour of accepting his hospitality in return, which they did. What form the interchange of civilities took is not quite clear, but the governor's apparent amiableness did not in any way move Drake to exercise generosity. His object was ransom, and if this was agreed to good-naturedly, all the better for the Spaniards, but he was neither to be bought nor sold by wily tactics, nor won over by golden-tongued rhetoric. The price of the rugged Devonshire sailor's alternative of wild wrath and ruin was the modest sum of 100,000 ducats in hard cash. Mutual convivialities and flowing courtesies were at an end; these were one thing and reparation for the incarceration and burning of unoffending British sailors as heretics was another. "Deeds of blood and torture can never be atoned for in money or destruction of property. I am Drake, 'El Draque' if you like, and if you don't comply with my terms, you shall be destroyed." It was his habit openly to express himself in this way to Philip's subjects, whether hostile or not, and we can imagine that similar views were uttered in the Carthagena negotiations. The Spaniards regarded his terms as monstrous impiety; they were aghast, pleaded poverty, and protested and swore by the Holy Office that the total amount they could find in the whole city was only 30,000 ducats. Drake, with commendable prudence, seeing that he wished to get away from the fever zone without delay, appears to have accepted this amount, though authorities are at variance on this point. Some say that he held out for his first claim and got it. I have not been able to verify which is the correct amount, but in all probability he got the 100,000 ducats. In any case, he piously charged them with deception in their plea of poverty, but came to terms, declaring, no doubt, that his own magnanimity astonished him. But for the sudden outbreak of sickness amongst his crew, the Carthagenians would not have fared nearly so well. The city might have been, not only pillaged, but laid in ruins. As it was, he had emptied a monastery and blown the harbour forts to pieces. Drake's intention was to visit Panama, but the fever had laid heavy hands on his men. Only a third of those who commenced the voyage with him were well enough to do work at all, notwithstanding the replenishment by released prisoners, so he was forced to abandon further enterprises and shape his course homewards as quickly as skilful navigation and the vagaries of wind and weather would allow. Great deeds, even on this trip, stood to the credit of himself and crew. The accomplishments were far below what was expected at the outset in point of money value, but the priceless feature of the voyage was the enhanced respect for Drake's name which had taken possession of the Spanish race in every part of the world and subsequently made the defeat of the Armada an easier task. This eager soul, who was really the pioneer of a new civilization, had still to face hard fate after the reluctant abandonment of his intention to visit Panama. The sufferings of the adventurers from bad weather and shortness of water was severely felt on the passage to Florida. But the rough leader never lost heart or spared himself in any way. He was obliged to heave-to at Cape Antonio (Cuba), and here with indomitable courage went to work, putting heart into his men by digging with pick and shovel in a way that would have put a navvy to the blush, and when their efforts were rewarded he took his ships through the Bahama Channel, and as he passed a fort which the Spaniards had constructed and used as a base for a force which had murdered many French Protestant colonists in the vicinity, Drake landed, found out the murderous purpose of the fort, and blew it to pieces. But that was not all. He also had the satisfaction of saving the remainder of an unsuccessful English settlement founded by Sir Walter Raleigh, and of taking possession of everything that he could lay hands on from the Spanish settlement of St. Augustine. This was the last episode of plunder connected with an expedition that was ripe with thrilling incidents, and added to the fame of the most enterprising figure of the Elizabethan reign. In point of profit to those who had financed the voyage it was not a success; but its political and ultimate commercial advantages were enormous. These early seamen of the seventeenth century, many of them amateurs, laid the foundation of the greatest navy and mercantile marine of the world. It is to these fascinating adventurers, too, that the generations which followed are indebted for the initiative in human comforts and progress. The superficial self-righteous critic may find it an agreeable pursuit to search out their blemishes; but these men cannot be airily dismissed in that manner. They towered above their fellows, the supreme product of the spirit of their day in adventure and daring; they fulfilled their great destiny, and left their indelible mark upon the life of their nation and of the world. Their great emancipating heroism and reckless self-abnegation more than counterbalanced the faults with which the modern mind, judging their day by ours, is too prone to credit them, and whatever their deeds of perfidy may have been, they were imbued more with the idea of patriotism than with that of avarice. They were remarkable men, nor did they come into the life of the nation by chance, but for a purpose, and their memories are enshrined in human history. Drake sailed for home as soon as he had embarked what was left of Raleigh's colonists at Roanoke River, Virginia, and after a protracted and monotonous passage, arrived at Plymouth on the 28th July, 1586. The population received the news with acclamation. Drake wrote to Lord Burleigh, bemoaning his fate in having missed the gold fleet by a few hours, and again placing his services at the disposal of his Queen and country. The most momentous of all his commissions, especially to his own country, was in 1587, when he destroyed a hundred ships in Cadiz Harbour. It was a fine piece of work, this "singeing of the King of Spain's beard" as he called it, and by far excelled anything he had previously done. He captured the _San Philip_, the King of Spain's ship, which was the largest afloat. Her cargo was valued at over one million sterling, in addition to which papers were found on board revealing the wealth of the East India trade. The knowledge of this soon found a company of capitalists, who formed the East India Company, out of which our great Indian Empire was established. When the _San Philip_ was towed into Dartmouth Harbour, and when it became known generally, the whole country was ablaze with excitement, and people travelled from far and near to see the leviathan. Drake bore himself on this occasion with that sober modesty that characterized him always under any circumstances. His reputation stood higher now than ever, and it was no detriment to him that Philip should shudder, and when he became virtuously agitated speak of him as "that fearful man Drake." Everywhere he was a formidable reality, strong, forbidding and terrible; his penetrating spirit saw through the plans of the enemies of his country and his vigorous counter-measures were invariably successful. The exalted part he took in the defeat of the Armada has been briefly referred to in another part of this book. He was then at the height of his imposing magnificence and fame, but owing to the caprice of his royal mistress, who had an insatiable habit of venting her Tudor temper indiscriminately, he fell under her displeasure, and for a time was in disgrace; but she soon discovered that his services, whatever his lack of success on apparently rash enterprises may have been, were indispensable at so critical a moment. He was recalled, and soon after sent on his melancholy last voyage. He had worn himself out in the service of his country. Born at Tavistock in 1539, his eager spirit passed into the shadows off Puerto Bello on the 28th January, 1596, and, as previously stated, he was buried three miles out at sea, and two of his prizes were sunk and laid beside him. The following beautiful lines of Sir Henry Newbolt not only describe his patriotic and heroic end, but breathe the very spirit of the man who was one of the most striking figures of the Elizabethan age:-- DRAKE'S DRUM. _3rd Verse_: Drake, he's in his hammock till the great Armadas come, (Capten, art tha sleepin' there below?) Slung atween the round shot, listenin' for the drum, An' dreamin' arl the time o' Plymouth Hoe. Call him on the deep sea, call him up the Sound, Call him when ye sail to meet the foe; Where the old trade's plyin', and the old flag flyin', They shall find him ware an' wakin', As they found him long ago! NELSON AND HIS CIRCLE I The tradition created by Drake and Hawkins was carried on by Nelson and Collingwood in a different age and under different conditions, and the same heroic spirit animated them all. Nelson must certainly have been familiar with the enthralling tales of these men and of their gallant colleagues, but without all the essential qualities born in him he could not have been the victor of Trafalgar. Men have to do something distinctive, that sets the human brain on fire, before they are really recognized as being great; then all others are put in the shade, no matter how necessary their great gifts may be to fill up the gaps in the man of initiative and of action. Drake could not have done what he did had he not had the aid of Frobisher, and Jervis would not have become Earl St. Vincent had he not been supported by Nelson at the battle of that name; and we should never have seen the imposing monument erected in Trafalgar Square had Nelson been without his Collingwood. Victorious and valiant performances do not come by chance, and so it comes to pass in the natural course of human law that if our Jervises, Nelsons, and Collingwoods, who are the prototypes of our present-day heroes, had not lived, we should not have had our Fishers, Jellicoes, and Beattys. Nelson was always an attractive personality and by no means the type of man to allow himself to be forgotten. He believed he was a personage with a mission on earth, and never an opportunity was given him that did not confirm this belief in himself. Horatio Nelson was the son of the Rev. Edmund Nelson, and was born at Burnham Thorpe on the 29th September, 1758. His mother died in 1767, and left eight children. Her brother, Captain Maurice Suckling, was appointed to the _Raisonable_ three years after her death, and agreed, at the request of Horatio himself and the instigation of his father, after some doubtful comments as to the boy's physical suitableness for the rough life of a sailor, to take him; so on the 1st January, 1771, he became a midshipman on the _Raisonable._ On the 22nd May he either shipped of his own accord or was put as cabin-boy on a merchant vessel which went to the West Indies, and ended his career in the merchant service at the end of an eventful voyage. In July 1772 he became midshipman on board the _Triumph_. This was the real starting-point of his naval career and of the development of those great gifts that made him the renowned Admiral of the world. Twenty-two years after joining his uncle's ship he was made captain of the _Agamemnon_. At the siege of Calvi in 1794 he was wounded in the right eye and lost the sight of it. Three years afterwards he lost his right arm while commanding an attack on Santa Cruz, and although he had put so many sensational events into his life up to that time, it was not until the battle of St. Vincent that he began to attract attention. He had been promoted Rear-Admiral before the news of the battle was known, and when the news reached England the public enthusiasm was irrepressible. Jervis was made an Earl, with £3,000 a year pension, and the King requested that he should take his title from the name of the battle. Nelson refused a baronetcy, and was made, at his own request, a Knight of the Bath, receiving the thanks of the City of London and a sword. All those who were in prominent positions or came to the front in this conflict received something. It was not by a freak of chance that the authorities began to see in Nelson the elements of an extraordinary man. Nor was it mere chance that they so far neglected him that he was obliged to force himself upon the Admiralty in order to get them to employ him. The nation was in need of a great spirit, and Providence had been preparing one for many years before the ruling authorities discovered that Nelson was their man of the future. For several months he was tearing about the seas in search of the French fleet. He popped into Naples on the 17th June, 1798, ostensibly to know if anything had been heard of it, and no doubt he took the opportunity of having a word with Sir William and Lady Hamilton, who were to come so romantically into his life. He found the French fleet at anchor in Aboukir Bay and sailed upon it with such amazing audacity that the heart was knocked out of them at the very outset. Neither the French Admiral nor anybody else would have expected the British fleet to run their ships between them and the shore at the risk of grounding. The _Culloden_ _did_ ground. The French had 11 out of 13 ships put out of action, but the British fleet suffered severely also, and the loss of men was serious.[1] Out of a total of 7,401 men, 218 were killed and 678 wounded. Nelson himself was badly wounded on the forehead, and as the skin fell down on his good eye and the blood streamed into it, he was both dazed and blinded. He shouted to Captain Berry as he was staggering to a fall, "I am killed; remember me to my wife." But there was a lot more work for him to do before the fatal day. He was carried below, believing the injury would prove fatal, in spite of the assurances to the contrary of the surgeon who was in attendance. Although Nelson's courage can never be doubted, there is something very curious in his constant, eccentric foreboding of death and the way in which he scattered his messages about to one and another. This habit increased amazingly after his conflict with the French at the Nile. He seems to have had intermittent attacks of hypochondria. The wound incident at Aboukir must have given great amusement as well as anxiety to those about him. Unquestionably the wound had the appearance at first of being mortal, but the surgeon soon gave a reassuring opinion, and after binding up the ugly cut he requested his patient to remain below. But Nelson, as soon as he knew he was not going to die, became bored with the inactivity and insisted on writing a dispatch to the Admiralty. His secretary was too excited to carry out his wishes, so he tackled it himself. But his suffering being great and his mind in a condition of whirling confusion, he did not get far beyond the beginning, which intimated that "Almighty God had blessed His Majesty's arms." The battle raged on. The _Orient_ was set on fire and her destruction assured. When Nelson was informed of the terrible catastrophe to the great French line-of-battle ship, he demanded to be assisted to the deck, whereupon he gave instructions that his only boat not destroyed was to be sent with the _Vanguard's_ first lieutenant to render assistance to the crew. He remained on deck until the _Orient_ blew up, and was then urged to go to bed. But sleep under the circumstances and in view of his own condition would not come. All night long he was sending messages directing the plan of battle the news of which was to enthral the civilized world. Nelson himself was not satisfied. "Not one of the French vessels would have escaped," he said, "if it had pleased God that he had not been wounded." This was rather a slur on those who had given their best blood and really won the battle. Notwithstanding the apparent egotism of this outburst, there are sound reasons for believing that the Admiral's inspiring influence was much discounted by his not being able to remain on deck. The sight of his guiding, magnetic figure had an amazing effect on his men, but I think it must be admitted that Nelson's head was not in a condition at that time to be entirely relied upon, and those in charge of the different ships put the finishing touches to the victory that was won by the force of his courage and commanding genius in the initial stages of the struggle. II Nelson was a true descendant of a race of men who had never faltered in the traditional belief that the world should be governed and dominated by the British. His King, his country, and particularly the profession to which he belonged, were to him the supreme authorities whose destiny it was to direct the affairs of the universe. With unfailing comic seriousness, intermixed with occasional explosions of bitter violence, he placed the French low down in the scale of the human family. There was scarcely a sailor adjective that was not applied to them. Carlyle, in later years, designated the voice of France as "a confused babblement from the gutters" and "scarcely human"; "A country indeed with its head cut off"; but this quotation does not reach some of the picturesque heights of nautical language that was invented by Nelson to describe his view of them. Both he and many of his fellow-countrymen regarded the chosen chief on whom the French nation had democratically placed an imperial crown as the embodiment of a wild beast. The great Admiral was always wholehearted in his declamation against the French people and their leaders who are our present allies fighting against that country which now is, and which Napoleon predicted to his dying day would become, one of the most imperious, inhuman foes to civilization. Nelson and his government at that time thought it a merciful high policy of brotherhood to protect and re-create Prussia out of the wreck to which Napoleon had reduced it; the result being that the military spirit of Prussia has been a growing, determined menace to the peace of the world and to the cause of human liberty in every form since the downfall of the man who warned us at the time from his exiled home on the rock of St. Helena that our policy would ultimately reflect with a vengeance upon ourselves, and involve the whole world in a great effort to save itself from destruction. He foresaw that Prussia would inveigle and bully the smaller German states into unification with herself, and, having cunningly accomplished this, that her perfidy would proceed to consolidate the united fabric into a formidable power which would crush all others by its military superiority; this dream of universal control of human life and affairs was at one time nearly realized. The German Empire has bankrupted herself in men, necessaries of life, and money. But that in no degree minimizes the disaster she has wrought on those who have had to bleed at every pore to avoid annihilation. The Allies, as well as the Central Powers, are no longer going concerns. It will take generations to get back to the point at which we started in 1914. But the tragic thought of all is the enormous sacrifice of life, and the mental and physical wrecks that have survived the savage, brutal struggle brought on a world that was, and wished to remain, at peace, when in 1914 the Central Powers arrogantly forced the pace which caused an alliance to be formed quickly by their enemies to save them from the doom which Napoleon, with his clear vision, had predicted would come. It was fitting that Nelson should by every conceivable means adopt methods of declamation against the French, if by doing so he thought it would inspire the men whom he commanded with the same conquering spirit he himself possessed. His country was at war with the French, and he was merely one of the instruments appointed to defeat them, and this may account for his ebullitions of hatred from time to time. I have found, however, no record that would in any way show that it was intended as surface policy, so it may be concluded that his dislike was as deep-seated as it appeared. Nelson never seems to have shown evidences of being a humbug by saying things which he did not believe. He had a wholesome dislike of the French people and of Bonaparte, who was their idol at that time. But neither he nor his government can be credited with the faculty of being students of human life. He and they believed that Paris was the centre of all that was corrupt and brutal. Napoleon, on the other hand, had no real hatred of the British people, but during his wars with their government his avowed opinion was that "all the ills, and all the scourges that afflict mankind, came from London." Both were wrong in their conclusions. They simply did not understand each other's point of view in the great upheaval that was disturbing the world. The British were not only jealous and afraid of Napoleon's genius and amazing rise to eminence--which they attributed to his inordinate ambition to establish himself as the dominating factor in the affairs of the universe--but they determined that his power should not only not be acknowledged, but destroyed, and their policy after twenty years of bitter war was completely accomplished. The merits or demerits of British policy must always remain a matter of controversy. It is too big a question to deal with here. Napoleon said himself that "Everything in the life of man is subject to calculation; the good and evil must be equally balanced." Other true sayings of his indicate that he, at any rate, _was_ a student of human life, and knew how fickle fortune is under certain conditions. "Reprisals," he declared, "are but a sad resource"; and again, no doubt dwelling on his own misfortunes, but with vivid truth all the same, he declares that "The allies gained by victory will turn against you upon the bare whisper of our defeat." III After his victory on the Nile, Nelson fully expected to be created a Viscount, and his claim was well supported by Hood, his old Admiral. He was made Baron Nelson of the Nile, and given a pension of £2,000 per annum--a poor recompense for the great service he had rendered to his country. But that was by no means the measure of the public gratitude. He was acclaimed from every corner of Great Britain as the national hero. The City of London presented him with a two hundred guinea sword, and a vote of thanks to himself, officers and men. There was much prayer and thanksgiving, and several women went as daft as brushes over him. One said her heart was absolutely bursting with all sorts of sensations. "I am half mad," says she, and any one who reads the letter will conclude that she understated her mental condition. But of all the many letters received by Nelson none surpasses in extravagance of adulation that written by Amy Lyon, the daughter of a village blacksmith, born at Great Neston in Cheshire, in 1761, who had come to London in the early part of 1780, fallen into evil ways and given birth to a little girl. She was then left destitute and sank as low as it is possible for a woman to do. She rose out of the depths into which she had fallen by appearing as the Goddess of Health in the exhibition of a James Graham. Sir Henry Featherstonehaugh took her under his protection for close on twelve months, but owing to her extravagance and faithlessness he turned her out when within a few months of a second child, which was stillborn. The first was handed over to her grandmother to take care of. Charles Greville, the second son of the Earl of Warwick, then took her to live with him. She had intimate relations with him while she was still Featherstonehaugh's mistress, and he believed the child about to be born was his. At this time Amy Lyon changed her name to Emily Hart. Greville went to work on business lines. He struck a bargain that all her previous lovers were to be dropped, and under this compact she lived with him in a respectable manner for nearly four years. He gave her some education, but she seems to have had natural genius, and her beauty was undisputed. Emily Hart sat to Romney,[2] the artist, and it is said that twenty-three portraits were painted, though some writers have placed the number at over forty. "Marinda," "Sibyl," and the "Spinstress" were amongst them. The pictures bring high prices; one, I think called "Sensibility," brought, in 1890, over £3,000. Notwithstanding her lowly birth (which has no right to stop any one's path to greatness) and lack of chastity, she had something uncommon about her that was irresistibly attractive. Sir William Hamilton, Greville's uncle, returned to England some time in 1784 from Naples, where he was the British Minister. It was said that he was in quest of a second wife, the first having died some two years before. Greville did not take kindly to the idea of Sir William marrying again, because he was his heir. He thought instead that, being in financial trouble himself, he would try to plant Emma on his uncle, not with the object of marriage, but of her becoming his mistress. Sir William was captivated with the girl, which made it easy for the shameless nephew to persuade his uncle to take her off his hands. Emma, however, was in love with Greville, and there were indications of revolt when the astute lady discovered that serious negotiations were proceeding for her transference from nephew to uncle. It took twelve months to arrive at a settlement. There does not appear to have been a signed agreement, but there certainly was a tacit understanding that Sir William was to assist Greville out of his difficulties, in return for which Emma was to join him at Naples, ostensibly as a visitor. She writes imploringly to Greville to answer her letters, but never an answer came, and in utter despair she tells him at last that she will not become his uncle's concubine, and threatens to make Hamilton marry her. This poor wretched woman was human, after all, and indeed she gave convincing proofs of many high qualities in after-years, but in the passion of her love for the dissolute scamp who bartered her away she pleaded for that touch of human compassion that never came. She knew that her reprobate lover was fearful lest she should induce his uncle to marry her, and she may have had an instinctive feeling that it was part of the contract that she was to be warded off if any attempt of the kind were made likely to endanger his prospects of becoming Hamilton's heir. His indifference made her venomously malignant, and she sent him a last stab that would at least give him a troubled mind, even though it should not cause him to recall her; she would then pursue her revenge by ignoring him. It is a sordid story which smears the pages of British History. Emma lived with the British Ambassador at Naples as his mistress. He was popular in this city of questionable morals at that time. She was beautiful and developed remarkable talents as a singer, and was a bright, witty, fascinating conversationalist. She worked hard at her studies, and became a fluent speaker of the Italian language. Hamilton had great consideration for her, and never risked having her affronted because of the liaison. Her singing was a triumph. It is said she was offered £6,000 to go to Madrid for three years and £2,000 for a season in London. She invented classic attitudes. Goethe said that "Sir William Hamilton, after long love and study of art, has at last discovered the most perfect of the wonders of nature and art in a beautiful young woman. She lives with him, and is about twenty years old. She is very handsome, and of a beautiful figure. What the greatest artists have aimed at is shown in perfection, in movement, in ravishing variety. Standing, kneeling, sitting, lying down, grave or sad, playful, exulting, repentant, wanton, menacing, anxious, all mental states follow rapidly one after another. With wonderful taste she suits the folding of her veil to each expression, and with the same handkerchief makes every kind of head-dress. The Old Knight holds the Light for her, and enters into the exhibition with his whole soul." Sir William had twelve of the "Representations" done by a German artist named Frederick Rehberg, entitled "Drawings faithfully copied from Nature at Naples." Hamilton married Emma in 1791 in England, and when they returned to Naples she was presented to the Queen, and ultimately became on intimate terms with Her Majesty of Naples, whose questionable morals were freely spoken of. Emma quickly attained a high social standing, but it is doubtful whether she exercised that influence over the Queen of which she liked to boast. In September, 1793, Nelson was at Naples by orders, and was the guest of the Hamiltons for a few days. He had not been there for five years, yet the precious Emma, without decorum or ceremony, sent him a written whirlwind of congratulations on the occasion of his victory at the Nile. Every line of the letter sends forth crackling sparks of fiery passion. She begins, "My dear, dear Sir," tells him she is delirious, that she fainted and fell on her side, "and am hurt," when she heard the joyful news. She "would feel it a glory to die in such a cause," but she cannot die until she has embraced "the Victor of the Nile." Then she proceeds to describe the transports of Maria Carolina. "She fainted too, cried, kissed her husband, her children, walked, frantic with pleasure, about the room, cried, kissed and embraced everybody near her." Then she continues, "Oh! brave Nelson! Oh! God bless and protect our brave deliverer! Oh! Nelson, Nelson! Oh! Victor! Oh! that my swollen heart could now tell him personally what we owe to him. My dress from head to foot is Allah Nelson. My earrings are Nelson's anchors." She sends him some sonnets, and avers that she must have taken a ship to "send all what is written on you." And so she goes on, throwing herself into his arms, metaphorically speaking, at every sentence. When the _Vanguard_ arrived at Naples, Nelson invited Lady Hamilton on board and she was no sooner on the deck than she made one dramatic plunge at him, and proceeded to faint on the poor shattered man's breast. Nelson, whose besetting weakness was love of approbation, became intoxicated with the lady's method of making love. Poor gallant fellow! He was, like many another, the victim of human weakness. He immediately believed that he and Emma had "found each other," and allowed himself to be flattered with refined delicacy into a liaison which became a fierce passion, and tested the loyalty of his closest friends to breaking-point. How infinitely pathetic is this piteous story from beginning to end! Like most sailors, Nelson had a fervent, religious belief in the Eternal, and never went to battle without casting himself on the mercy of the Infinite Pity which alone can give solace. He was fearless and strong in the affairs of his profession, and it may be safely assumed that, even if it went no deeper, he had a mystic fear of God, and was lost to all other fear. I think it was Carlyle who said, "God save us from the madness of popularity. It invariably injures those who get it." There never was a truer thing said, and it is sadly true of our great national hero. Not many months had passed before the dispenser of his praises had become his proprietor. It is doubtful whether Emma ever loved him, but that does not concern any one. What does concern us is the imperious domination she exercised over him. No flighty absurdities of fiction can equal the extravagance of his devotion to her, and his unchecked desire to let every one know it. He even informs Lady Nelson that Lady Hamilton is the very best woman in the world and an honour to her sex, and that he had a pride in having her as a friend. He writes to Lord St. Vincent that she is "an angel," and has honoured him in being his Ambassadress to the Queen and is worthy of his confidence. Again he writes, "Our dear Lady Hamilton, whom to see is to admire, but to know are to be added honour and respect; her head and heart surpass her beauty, which cannot be equalled by anything I have seen." It is impossible to suppose that a man could fall so violently in love with this extraordinary creature and permit her to come so intimately into his life without injury to his judgment and to those keen mental qualities which were needed at that time in the service of his country. Such loss of control must surely have been followed by mental and intellectual deterioration. This lady of varied antecedents was the intermediary between the Court of Naples and himself, and it is now an authentic fact that it was on the advice of the Queen and Emma that Naples entered into a war, the result of which was the complete defeat of the Neapolitans; the Court and the Hamiltons had to fly to Palermo and Nelson again lived with the Minister and his wife. He again pours out the virtues and charms of Lady Hamilton, to whom he gives the credit of engineering the embarkation of the Royal Family and two and a half million sterling aboard the _Vanguard_. After giving St. Vincent another dose of Emma, he goes on to say, "It is my duty to tell your Lordship the obligations which the whole Royal Family, as well as myself, are under on this trying occasion to her Ladyship." Her Ladyship, still hankering after her old friend Greville, writes him, "My dear adorable queen and I weep together, and now that is our only comfort." It is no concern of ours, but it looks uncommonly as though Greville still held the field, and the opinion of many that Nelson would not have had much chance against her former lover is borne out by many facts. Amongst the saddest stories that raged about the Hamiltons, their friends, and Nelson was the scandal of gambling for large stakes. Some are persistent in the assertion that the report was well founded, and others that it was not so bad as it was made out to be. Lady Hamilton asserted that the stories were all falsehoods invented by the Jacobinical party, but her Ladyship's veracity was never to be relied upon. Perhaps a foundation of truth and a large amount of exaggeration sums up the reports, so we must let it go at that. Troubridge seems to have been convinced that his Admiral was in the midst of a fast set, for he sends a most imploring remonstrance to him to get out of it and have no more incense puffed in his face. This was fine advice, but the victor of the Nile made no response. IV Nelson was little known to his countrymen before the St. Vincent battle. But after the victory of the Nile his name became immortal, and he could take any liberty he liked with our national conventionalisms. Even his love affairs were regarded as heroics. He refused occasionally to carry out instructions when he thought his own plans were better, and it was winked at; but had any of them miscarried, the memory of St. Vincent and the Nile would not have lived long. When he arrived with the Hamiltons in London after his long absence and victorious record, the mob, as usual, took the horses from the carriage and dragged him along Cheapside amid tumultuous cheers. Whenever he appeared in public the same thing happened. At Court, things were different. His reception was offensively cold, and George III ran some risk when he affronted his most popular subject by turning his back on him. Whatever private indiscretions Nelson may have been guilty of, nothing could justify so ungrateful an act of ill-mannered snobbery. The King should have known how to distinguish between private weakness, however unconventional, and matchless public service. But for the fine genius and patriotism of this noble fellow, he might have lost his crown. The temper of a capricious public in an era of revolution should not be tested by freaks of royal self-righteousness, while its imagination is being stirred by the deeds of a national hero. His action might have brought the dignity of George's kingliness into the gutter of ridicule, which would have been a public misfortune. The King's treatment of Nelson was worse than tactless; it was an impertinence. King Edward VII, whose wisdom and tact could always be trusted, might have disapproved, as strongly as did George III, Nelson's disregard of social conventions, but he would have received him on grounds of high public service, and have let his private faults, if he knew of them, pass unnoticed, instead of giving him an inarticulate snub. Still, a genius of naval distinction, or any other, has no right to claim exemption from a law that governs a large section of society, or to suppose that he may not be criticized or even ostracized if he defiantly offends the susceptibilities of our moral national life. And it is rather a big tax on one's patience for a man, because of his exalted position and distinguished deeds of valour and high services rendered to the State, to expect that he may be granted licence to parade his gallantries with women in boastful indifference to the moral law that governs the lives of a large section of the community. There are undoubtedly cases of ill-assorted unions, but it does not lie within our province to judge such cases. They may be victims of a hard fate far beyond the knowledge of the serene critics, whose habit of life is to sneak into the sacred affairs of others, while their own may be in need of vigilant enquiry and adjustment. It would hardly be possible, with the facts before us, to say a word in mitigation of Nelson's ostentatious infatuation for Lady Hamilton, were it not that he can never be judged from the same standpoint as ordinary mortals. That is not to say that a man, mentally constituted as he was, should not be amenable to established social laws. Nelson was a compound of peculiarities, like most men who are put into the world to do something great. He was amusingly vain, while his dainty vanity so obscured his judgment that he could not see through the most fulsome flattery, especially that of women. At the same time he was professionally keen, with a clear-seeing intellect, dashing, flawless courage, and a mind that quickly grasped the weak points of the enemy's position or formation. He fought the old form of sea warfare by methods that were exclusively his, and sent his opponents staggering into confusion. Once a plan of battle had been arranged, he never faltered in his judgment, and only manoeuvred as circumstances arose, but always with that unexpected rush and resource which carried with it certain victory. Nelson's great talents and his victories caused society outwardly to overlook his connection with the notorious Lady Hamilton. But the gossips were always at work. On this point he does not seem to have realized that he was playing pranks with society, though there were abundant evidences of it. He was offended because at Dresden, on their way to England, the Electress refused to receive his mistress on account of her antecedents, and no Court was held during their stay. Of course Emma was given the cold shoulder in England by the Court and by society. Nelson told his friend Collingwood of his own treatment, and added that, either as a public or private man, he wished nothing undone which he had done. He told Collingwood of his cold reception by the King, but it seems quite obvious that he maintained his belief that his connection with Emma had no right to be questioned by His Majesty or any of his subjects, and he held this view to the last. He would have none of the moralists' cant lavished on him, and by his consistent attitude seemed to say, "Hands off my private life! If I _did_ introduce Lady Hamilton to my wife at her apartments on my arrival in England after two and a half years' absence, when she was on the point of becoming the mother of Horatia, what business is that of yours? I will have none of your abstract morality. Get away, and clean up your own morals before you talk to me of mine." The above is what I think a man of Nelson's temperament might say to the people who wished to warn him against the dangerous course he was pursuing. Lady Nelson does not seem to have been a woman who could appeal to a man like Nelson. The fact is she may have been one of those unamiable, sexless females who was either coldly ignoring her husband or storing up in her heart any excuse for hurling at him the most bitter invective with which she might humiliate him. She does not appear to have been a vulgar shrieker, but she may have been a silent stabber, which is worse. In any case, Nelson seems to have made a bad choice, as by his actions he openly avowed that he preferred to live with the former mistress of Featherstonehaugh, Greville, and Hamilton, rather than with his lawful wife; and he, without a doubt, was the best judge as to which of them suited him best. The truth remains that Emma was attractive and talented, and although lowly born, she became the bosom companion of kings, queens, princesses, princes, and of many men and women of distinction. Nelson must have been extraordinarily simple to imagine that his wife, knowing, as all the world knew, that Lady Hamilton was his mistress and a bold, unscrupulous rival, would receive her with rapturous friendliness. The amazing puzzle to most people, then and now, is why she received her at all, unless she wished to worm out of her the precise nature of the intimacy. That may have been her definite purpose in allowing the visits for two or three months; then one day she flew into a rage, which conjures up a vision of hooks and eyes bursting like crackers from her person, and after a theatrical display of temper she disappears like a whirling tempest from the presence of her faithless husband, never again to meet him. This manner of showing resentment to the gallant sailor's fondness for the wife of Sir William Hamilton was the last straw. There was nothing dignified in Lady Nelson's tornado farewell to her husband; rather, if the records may be relied on, it was accompanied by a flow of abuse which could only emanate from an enraged termagant. Nelson now had a free hand. His wife was to have a generous allowance on condition that she left him alone freely to bestow his affections on the seductive Emma, whose story, retold by Mr. Harrison, shows Lady Nelson to have been an impossible woman to live with. She made home hell to him, so he said. And making liberal allowance for Emma's fibbing propensities, there are positive evidences that her story of Nelson's home life was crammed with pathetic truths of domestic misery. Nelson corroborates this by a letter to Emma almost immediately after his wife's ludicrous exit. The letter is the outpouring of an embittered soul that had been freed from purgatory and was entering into a new joy. It is a sickening effusion of unrestrained love-making that would put any personage of penny-novel fame to the blush. I may as well give the full dose. Here it is:-- Now, my own dear wife: for such you are in the sight of Heaven, I can give full scope to my feelings, for I dare say Oliver will faithfully deliver this letter. You know, my dearest Emma, that there is nothing in this world that I would not do for us to live together, and to have our dear little child with us. I firmly believe that this campaign will give us peace, and then we will set off for Bronte. In twelve hours we shall be across the water, and freed from all the nonsense of his friends, or rather pretended ones. Nothing but an event happening to him could prevent my going; and I am sure you will think so, for, unless all matters accord, it would bring a hundred of tongues and slanderous reports if I separated from her, which I would do with pleasure the moment we can be united. I want to see her no more; therefore we must manage till we can quit this country, or your uncle dies. I love you: I never did love any one else. I never had a dear pledge of love till you gave me one; and you, thank my God, never gave one to anybody else. I think before March is out, you will either see us back, or so victorious that we shall ensure a glorious issue to our toils. Think what my Emma will feel at seeing return safe, perhaps with a little more fame, her own dear Nelson. Never, if I can help it, will I dine out of my ship or go on shore, except duty calls me. Let Sir Hyde have any glory he can catch, I envy him not. You, my beloved Emma, and my country, are the two dearest objects of my fond heart. _A heart susceptible and true._ Only place confidence in me, and you shall never be disappointed. I burn all your dear letters, because it is right for your sake; and I wish you would burn all mine--they can do no good, and will do us both harm if any seizure of them; or the dropping even one of them would fill the mouths of the world sooner than we intend. My longing for you, both person and conversation, you may readily imagine (especially the person). No, my heart, person, and mind are in perfect union of love towards my own dear, beloved Emma, the real bosom friend of her, all hers, all Emma's. NELSON AND BRONTE. The Prince of Wales had dined with and paid suspicious attentions to Emma, and her fond lover, knowing this, advised her to warn him off. He probably had an instinct that his "beloved Emma," who is "the dearest object of his fond heart," was not quite strong enough to resist temptation. Especially would she be likely to fall under the fascinating influence of this little princely scamp. Nelson's mind turned to his wife, and he emphasized the desire that he might never see his aversion again. Nor did he. Some of his contemporaries doubted the paternity of Horatia; Nelson never did, and it would be hard to find a more beautiful outpouring of love than that which he unfailingly gave to his little daughter. Every thought of his soul was divided between her and the audacious flirt of a mother whom Nelson, always lavish, calls "his love"; "his darling angel"; "his heaven-given wife"; "the dearest, only true wife of his own till death." The "till death" finish is quite sailorly! No one will doubt his amazing faculty for love-making and love-writing, and it must always be a puzzle how he managed to mix it so successfully with war. His guilty love-making was an occasional embarrassment to him, and though he was the greatest naval tactician of his time, his domestic methods were hopelessly clumsy and transparent. For instance, in pouring out his grievances to his mistress he refers to himself by the name of Thompson, and to Lady Nelson as Aunt. Here are a few examples:--"Thompson desires me to say he has never wrote his Aunt since he sailed." "In twelve hours we shall be across the water, and freed from all the nonsense of his friends, or rather, pretended ones." "His" means Hamilton, and "friends" means the Prince of Wales, whom he looked upon as a rival for Emma's accommodating affections. Again, he says, "If I separated from her, which I would do with pleasure the moment we can be united." "Her" is Lady Nelson, but in discussing delicate matters of domestic policy he thinks it desirable to conceal that he would not weep were he to hear of Sir William's death, or be broken with grief to separate entirely from Lady Nelson, so that he might become "united to his heaven-given wife," "our darling angel, Emma." V The Admiralty did a great injustice to the victor of the Nile by appointing Sir Hyde Parker commander-in-chief, instead of one who was known to be the most brilliant officer in the Navy. It must have cut deeply into Nelson's proud soul to have to serve under a man who had not a particle of initiative; and, but for the splendid bravery and matchless talents of his second, the wooden walls of old England would have been sent to Davy Jones by the forts of Copenhagen and the Danish fleet. Sir Hyde did not relish having Nelson with him at all. He sulked, and treated him in a way that was observed and resented by those who served under him. The commander-in-chief acted like a jealous maiden, his intention being to freeze and humiliate the man who was destined to win the victory and save the British fleet from entire destruction. There always has been tremendous jealousy in the Navy. But Sir Hyde Parker should have known that he was dealing with an officer (who was the genius of the Navy) who would stand no nonsense from any Lord High Admiral or other fussy dignitary whom he could put in his pocket whenever he liked to exercise his personality. Nelson never shirked responsibility when his country's interests were being endangered by a dignified snob. Discipline, so far as he was concerned until his object was gained, was pushed aside, and the great spirit swept into the vortex of the danger and extinguished all opposition. He said on one occasion, "I hate your pen-and-ink men. A fleet of British warships are the best negotiators in Europe." I have said that Parker was in the "sulks," so Nelson adopted a humorous plan of thawing the ice by catching a turbot on the Dogger Bank on the passage out to the Baltic. A sly seaman had told him that this kind of fish was easily caught, so when they arrived on the Bank the fishing commenced, and the turbot was caught. Nelson knew his commander-in-chief was never averse to eating, so he gave orders to have it sent to Sir Hyde, and although the sea was dangerous for a small boat, the fish was in due course presented to Parker, who sent back a cordial note of thanks. This ingenious stratagem eased the strained relations between the two men, but there still remained a feeling on the part of the commander-in-chief that the electric and resourceful spirit of Nelson would, in any engagement, be the dominating factor, with or without official sanction. He knew how irresistibly Nelson's influence permeated the fleet, for no man knew better than this much-envied Vice-Admiral how to enthuse his comrades (high and low) in battle, and also what confidence the nation as a whole had in what he called the "Nelson touch." Sir Hyde Parker, knowing Nelson's superb qualities, should have paused and considered the consequences before he slyly sought to put such a man in the shade. There was not a man in the whole squadron who would not have gone to his doom under Nelson's lead rather than live under any other's. Nelson inspired men with the same love of glory which he craved for himself. No real sailor ever did like to sail under a hesitating, nervous commander. Parker, at the battle of Copenhagen, gives one (from all accounts) the impression of unsureness, afraid to take any risk lest it be the wrong one. Nelson was always sure, and never hesitated to put into practice his considered views. Parker, at a critical moment in the battle of Copenhagen, hoisted No. 39, which meant "Leave off action." Nelson shrugged his shoulders, and Said, "No, I'm damned if I do," and kept his own "Engage the enemy more closely" flying. He then added to Captain Foley, "I have only one eye, and have a right to be blind sometimes." He then put the telescope to his blind eye, and said, "I really do not see the signal." Unfortunately, some of the ships retired, and one able fellow, Captain Riou, who knew it was a wrong move, was so distressed that he called out in despair to one of his officers beside him, "What will Nelson think of us?" The poor captain was subsequently killed. There can be no doubt now that the signal 39 was not permissive or optional, nor that Nelson, having the enemy by the throat, refused to let go until he had strangled him, nor that he did dramatically act the blind-eye trick. He deliberately disobeyed orders, and saved England's honour and fleet by doing so. It was one of his splendid performances, and the story of it will live on into distant ages. Who can calculate the loss of national prestige or the lives that have been thrown away by putting severely decorous senior officers over the heads of men who knew their business better and had the courage and capacity to carry through big naval or military tasks? And how tempting it must be to many a gallant fellow to take the business into his own hands! Nelson knew well enough that he had laid himself open to the full penalty of naval law, but he knew also that if any of the moth-eaten crew at Whitehall even hinted it there would be "wigs on the green." No man knew the pulse of the nation better, and no commander played up to it less. One can imagine hearing him say to some of his officers (perhaps Captain Hardy of Trafalgar fame), after he had wrecked the Danish fleet and battered the forts into a dilapidated condition, "Well, I have fought contrary to orders, and they will perhaps hang me; never mind, let them." A significant "let them" this, which means more than he cares to express. The Danes frankly admitted that they had been beaten, and that even their defence was destroyed, as the Crown batteries could not be held. Instead of any talk of "hanging" him because of his "disobedience," he was made a Viscount and his Rear-Admiral (Graves) a Knight of the Bath. These were the only two significant honours conferred. When he landed at Copenhagen, it is said that the people viewed him with a mixture of admiration and hostility. He thought they were extremely amiable. They cheered and shouted "God bless Lord Nelson!" There can be no reason for their doing this, except gratitude to him for not blowing the city down about their ears. Whatever the cause, it is quite certain that the Crown Prince and some of the Danish statesmen treated him with studied cordiality. Sir Hyde Parker was a drag, and indeed, an intolerable nuisance to him. When the armistice was sealed and settled for fourteen weeks, he wished to get of to Reval and hammer the Russian squadron there, but the commander-in-chief shirked all responsibility, and his victim was made to say in a letter to Lord St. Vincent "that he would have been in Reval fourteen days before, and that no one could tell what he had suffered," and asks my dear Lord "if he has deserved well, to let him retire, and if ill, for heaven's sake to supersede him, for he cannot exist in this state." Lord Nelson conducted the British case with the Danes with consummate statesmanship, but notwithstanding this, the fine sensitive nature of the noble fellow could not fail to be hurt when His Majesty (the same who lost us America) stated that, "under _all_ the circumstances, he had thought well to approve." Nelson replied that he was sorry the armistice was only approved under _all_ the circumstances, and then gives His Majesty a slap in the eye by informing him that every part of the _all_ was to the advantage of the King and Country. St. Vincent, the First Lord of the Admiralty, subsequently made amends for His Majesty's error by writing to say that his "whole conduct was approved and admired, and that he does not care to draw comparisons, but that everybody agrees there is only one Nelson." This strong and valiant sailor was never at any time unconscious of his power. What troubled him was other people's lack of appreciation of it, though he accepted with a whimsical humour the grudging spirit in which credit was given to his unerring judgment and unequalled bravery. Nor can we examine the great deeds of his career without feeling a thrill of pride in the knowledge that he belonged to us. The spirit which animated Nelson was the same as that which lived in those heroes of old who were used by Providence as instruments in their country's destiny, and we may believe that this same spirit will live in those God-sent men of the future who will be necessary for the carrying out of some special task or for the destruction of evil. Apparently, long intervals elapse between the appearance of men such as Napoleon or Nelson. Napoleon's name still stirs the blood, and now, more than a century after his death, any one of the Powers who had a share in his tragic end would give worlds to get back some of his force and genius. Nelson in a much less degree and in a different way was another of those sent by Providence to take part in his country's struggles and, like many another great man, was subjected to cruel indignities at the hands of his inferiors. He often complained about his treatment, but this never prevented him from doing his work. But as his instructions were not always in accordance with his view of success, he occasionally disobeyed them for the country's good. It might be a gain to borrow _his_ spirit for a while at the present time to electrify the British Admiralty. Nelson was more successful in his conflicts with the enemy than with the chiefs of his calling afloat and ashore. He was not really strong and audacious enough in his dealings with them. "Jacky Fisher" (as he is fondly called) who lives in our disturbed time, would have had similar sandbags jettisoned in quick time. The modern Nelson has had his troubles with inferior superiors too, but he flattened out some of them. The modern man is all business, and does not show vanity if he has any. The "Only Nelson" was strong, weak, and vain. If no one else gratuitously sounded his praises, he would do so himself in the most comical way, not altogether in public, but to "Santa Emma," whose function it was to spread them abroad. After the battle of Copenhagen, Sir Hyde Parker sailed for Carlscrona, and left Nelson to hoist his flag as commander-in-chief on the _St. George_, which was not ready, and was possibly being refitted after rough handling. He tells Emma of Parker's departure, and adds, "if there is any work to do," i.e. any fighting, "he is pretty certain they will wait for him" before commencing it. And then he adds, "_Nelson will be first_. Who can stop him?" On the eve of the battle of Copenhagen he wrote to her, "Before you receive this, all will be over with Denmark. Either your Nelson will be safe, and Sir Hyde Parker victor, or your own Nelson will be laid low." What deep and genuine love-lunacy to be found in a terrific warrior, whose very name terrified those who had the honour to fight against him! The incongruity of it baffles one's belief, and seems to reverse the very order of human construction. In matters concerning his profession and highly technical State affairs there was no more astute man, but as soon as his thoughts centre on this female nightmare, he loses control of his wonderful gifts, and his mind becomes deranged with the idea of her being an object on which he should bestow reverence and infinite adulation. If ever there was a creature of lamentable contradictions, surely it was this genius, who immortalized our national glory at the Nile, Copenhagen, and Trafalgar! That a man of his calibre, surrounded with eternal fame, should be inflamed with a passion for a woman of negative morals who was refused admittance to the same circle that, but for this attachment would receive him as their triumphant hero, is an example of human eccentricity that never has and never can be accounted for. It may be taken for granted that at the very time he was writing to her about "her own Nelson" she would be carrying on a love intrigue with some old or new acquaintance, possibly the Prince of Wales, whom as I have said, her gallant lover wished her to avoid. He was known to be a cheat, a liar, and a faithless friend to men and to women, while in accordance with the splendid ethic of this type of person, he believed himself to be possessed of every saintly virtue. But any one who is curious to have a fascinating description of the "little dapper" should consult Thackeray. Well, there was no fighting to be done when the fleet under Nelson arrived at Reval, and the Emperor Paul's death and the dilatoriness of Parker saved the Russian fleet from extermination. They had sailed into safer anchorage and the British Admiral had to content himself by paying an official visit to the authorities at Reval, and receiving another ovation from the populace, which appealed to his whimsical love of approbation. As is his custom, he sends Emma an account of his Reval experiences. He says he would not mention so personal an incident to any one else, as it would appear so uncommonly like vanity, but between her and himself, hundreds had come to have a look at Nelson, and he heard them say, "_That is him!_ That is _him_!" It touches his vanity so keenly that he follows on by intimating that he "feels a good name is better than riches, and that it has a fine feeling to an honest heart." "All the Russians," says he, "are of opinion that I am like Suwaroff, le Jeune Suwaroff." As may be imagined, Nelson was bitterly disappointed at so sudden a collapse of his hopes, but, always master of the situation, he wrote a most courteous letter to Count Pahlen, the Russian Minister, who had complained that his presence was calculated to make a breach of the good feeling between the two countries. The Admiral's reply was tactful and unconsciously humorous. The tone was that of a person who had never been so unjustly hurt in his life. "He had come to pay his respects to His Imperial Majesty, and as his motives had been so entirely misunderstood, he would put to sea at once." VI His health was beginning to feel the enormous strain that had been imposed upon him for many months. This, together with his longing to be in the congenial society of Lady Hamilton, caused him to ask to be relieved of his command, and he was delighted to receive a letter from his old chief, Lord St. Vincent, stating that it was almost an impossible task to find a suitable successor, as in all his experience he never knew any one, except Troubridge, who had the art of enthusing others with his own unequalled spirit as he had. The command was handed over to Sir Charles Pole, and Nelson, almost wild with joy, sailed from the Baltic in the brig _Kite_ on the 19th June, and arrived at Yarmouth on the 1st July, 1801. Nelson always claimed that if the command had been given to him in February many lives would have been saved, and our prestige would not have suffered. We cannot describe all the fascinating pleasure we get when we read and think of the wonders this strange mortal performed in the ordinary course of his profession; when, however, he departs from that and begins to make stagey love to Lady Hamilton, it tries one's Christian patience. What business had he, as the first sailor in the world, to enter into such a compact with another man's wife? However, he must not be judged by this liaison alone, but by the circumstances that led to it. We know that his domestic life had been made irritating and unbearable to his sensitive and highly strung nature, but he found in Emma Hamilton one who played upon his vanity, and made him feel that he was regarded as an idol as well as an idolatrous lover. He thirsted for reverence and the love of soul for soul, and she, in her own way, gave both with lavish profusion, whereas his wife's austere indifference to his amazing accomplishments fell upon his large heart like ice, and who can estimate his sufferings before he decided to defy society? He believed and hoped that he would be exonerated, and became in the sight of Heaven (as he avowed) the husband of a woman who, there can be little doubt, did not keep her honour unstained, but who, to him, was the guiding spirit of his remaining days: and whatever impressions we may have forced upon us of the liaisons of this noxious creature, there is nothing on record that suggests that he was ever unfaithful to her after the bond of union was made. Nor does he appear to have been openly charged with illicit intimacy with other women after his marriage to Mrs. Nisbet, other than with Lady Hamilton. We may talk of his wonderful career being morally blunted, but his own belief in the sanctity of the verbal arrangement was sound to the core, and he hazarded the opprobrium of our stern conventional system. To him, Lady Hamilton had an enduring charm which influenced his wild, weak, generous soul, and was in fact an inspiration to him. It is a truism that the life-story of all men has its tragedy and romance, and in this, Nelson's was only similar to others; and who can help loving his memory? The Hamiltons lived with him at Merton when he was on leave. They shared the cost of the home, which Lady Hamilton had, with elaborate, artistic taste, prepared for him. A document written by Sir William makes it clear that the relations of man and wife were strained at times to breaking-point, for, as he states, "I am old and she in the beauty and vigour of youth"; and then he proceeds: "I have no complaint to make, but I feel that the whole attention of my wife is given to Lord Nelson and his interest at Merton." Obviously, this is the old gentleman's dull way of expressing his idea that there was a gamble going on with the marriage vow, and then, with delightful simplicity, he nullifies his suspicious thoughts by stating that he well knows the purity of Lord Nelson's friendship for Emma and himself and that he knows how uncomfortable it would make his Lordship, our best friend, if a separation should take place; therefore he was determined to do all in his power to prevent such an extremity, which would be essentially detrimental to all parties, but would be more sensibly felt by "_our dear friend than by us_."[3] He is willing to go on provided the expenses do not go on increasing, but as he cannot expect to live many years, every moment is precious to him, and hopes that he may be allowed to be his own master _and pass his time in his own way_.[4] He continues: "I am fully determined not to have any more silly altercations that too often arise between us, and embitter his present moments exceedingly. If we cannot live comfortably together," he continues, "a wise and well-concerted separation would be preferable." He says he knows and admires her talents and many excellent qualities, but _he is not blind to her defects_,[5] and confesses to having many himself, and pleads "for God's sake to bear and forbear." Throughout this pathetic document we find evidences that his heart was torn with the consciousness of the mean advantage being taken of his friendship. There is a droll, vacillating belief in the virtue of his wife and the purity of Nelson's motives, but every sentence indicates that his instinct led him to believe that another had taken his place. It may have been that he saw it dimly, and that he shrank from making any direct accusation, not wishing to break with the man with whom he had long been on close terms of friendship. It is highly improbable that either his own or Emma's past histories escaped his memory when he was penning his grievances. Indeed, there are evidences gleaming through his memorandum that his reflections were harassed by the remembrance of his own conduct, which had plunged to epic depths of wrongdoing in other days. These and other considerations would doubtless have a restraining effect on the action that might have been taken under different circumstances. Sir William Hamilton must have pondered over the parentage of Horatia, who was born on the 29th January, 1801. Is it possible that he knew that Nelson was her father, and believed in the purity of his friendship for Emma and himself? I think everything goes to prove that he knew of his friend's relations with his wife and condoned it. Nelson, in his clumsy, transparent way, tried to conceal the origin of the child, so he proceeds to write a letter to Lady Hamilton, which I shall quote later on. To say that Sir William Hamilton, a man of the world with vast experience of human deceptions and intrigues, could have been put off the scent, in view of all the circumstances, is too great a tax on credulity, but it is wholly characteristic of Nelson's ideas of mystification. But even if there were any further proof needed, Lady Hamilton has settled the matter by preserving the correspondence Nelson urged her to destroy. This will be referred to later on. Meanwhile, it is hardly thinkable that Nelson, who had such a high sense of honour in other affairs of life, and who had accepted the hospitality and been the honoured guest of Sir William Hamilton at Naples, should have made the occasion an opportunity of establishing illicit relations with his wife. The whole matter must ever remain a blot on the great Admiral's fame, even though his host appeared to, or really did, connive at it. The price was too high to pay for both of them. The following extract from a letter from Lord Minto to his wife indicates the mode of life of the family party. He says: I went to Lord Nelson's (Merton) on Saturday. The whole establishment and way of life makes me angry as well as melancholy. I do not think myself obliged to quarrel with him for his weakness, though nothing shall ever induce me to give the smallest countenance to Lady Hamilton. She looks ultimately to the chance of marriage, as Sir William will not be long in her way, and she probably indulges a hope that she may survive Lady Nelson. She is in high looks, but more immense than ever. She goes on cramming Nelson with trowels of flattery, which he takes as quietly as a child does pap. The love she makes to him is ridiculous and disgusting. The whole house, staircase and all, are covered with pictures of her and him of all sorts and sizes. He is represented in naval actions, coats of arms, pieces of plate in his honour, the flagstaff of _L'Orient_. If it were Lady Hamilton's house, there might be pretence for it; but to make his own a mere looking-glass to view himself all day is bad taste. This letter was written on the 22nd March, 1802, and Nelson writes that Sir William Hamilton died in his arms and in Lady Hamilton's on the 6th April, 1803, passing on "without a struggle, and that the world had never lost a more upright and accomplished gentleman";[5] which, be it said, is rather a stagey performance of his wife's lover. But the mistress excels her lover in the record of the death-bed drama. "Unhappy day," says she in profusion of tears, "for the forlorn Emma. Ten minutes past ten dear beloved Sir William left me." Emma was poorly provided for; only £700 a year jointure and £100 a year for her mother for life. She and Nelson appealed to Lord Minto to urge on Mr. Addington her claim for a pension, and she vowed to Minto that her connection with Nelson was pure, and he says he can believe it, which is hardly consistent with the description he gives his wife as to "their open and disgusting proceedings," or with his comments on a visit paid to the Duke of Marlborough at Blenheim, where the Duke had treated the gallant naval chief and his party as though they were mere ordinary trippers who had come to see the wonders of his possessions. He condescendingly ordered refreshments to be given to them, which sent Nelson into a fury of indignation, and Minto excuses the Duke by stating that Nelson persuaded himself that all the world should be blind because he chose to extol Emma's "virtues." Obviously, Minto was not firmly convinced of her chastity. Nelson, with his heart full of blind adoration, had quite a simple, sailorly conviction that no one ought to question the innocence of his attachment to Emma, since he called Hamilton her "Uncle"; and, because he wished the public to believe in his innocence, he took it for granted that they would believe it. The Duke of Marlborough evidently had heard and believed in the impure tale, but that did not justify him in treating his noble guest and his friends in the snobbish and ill-mannered way he did. It is hardly likely that Nelson would have paid the visit without being asked, and in ordinary decency he should have been received or not asked at all. He was a greater figure and public servant than the Duke, and His Grace would not have suffered in dignity had he met Nelson on terms of equality. He could not have done less, at all events. On the other hand, the great Admiral showed a peevishness at the treatment which was unworthy of his fame and position; he could well afford to ignore the affront, more especially as he prided himself that the lady the Duke took exception to was "in the sight of Heaven his wife," and no one had any right to question his choice. The views held by Hamilton and recorded in various conflicting versions give the impression that he was puzzled, and could not determine whether to believe in the fidelity of Nelson or not. Some writers think that he winked at the liaison because of the difference between his own age and that of his wife; others, that he thought the relations were innocent, and a token of high-spirited friendship for himself; but all delicately indicate their conviction that he knew what was going on. Meanwhile, Nelson steadfastly avows his unyielding fidelity to his friends, and, with this exception, I think we may conclude that his devotion to them could always be relied upon; indeed, his attachment to Hamilton was of an affectionate character, even when many people believed he was betraying him. Whether Sir William knew and believed that the association between his wife and Nelson was pure or not,[6] he evidently desired that no one else should believe it, for in a codicil to his will he bequeaths "The copy of Madam Le Brun's picture of his wife in enamel, and gives to his dearest friend, Nelson, a very small token of the great regard he has for his Lordship, the most virtuous, loyal, and truly brave character I ever met with." Then he finishes up with God's blessing to him and shame to those who do not say "Amen." This is a wonderful testimony of friendship from a man who had been wronged, and might well have shaken the belief of those who founded their opinions on the startling improprieties they had beheld between the man whom he designated "the most virtuous, loyal, and truly brave character he had ever met with" and his wife. That Sir William connived at what looked uncommonly like infidelity may or may not be doubtful, but that he saw more than would have impressed an ordinary man or woman with suspicion is unquestionable, and the best that can be said for his attitude is that he was so mentally constituted that he could only see or preferred to see in Nelson's extravagant attentions to his wife a guileless symbol of high friendship for her, which he took as a compliment to himself. On the other hand, if he not only suspected but knew that he was being betrayed, and bitterly resented the passion which no remonstrances from him could have controlled, he at any rate determined to let the world see "how a Christian could die," and refrained from uttering the unutterable. Napoleon on the rock at St. Helena acted in the same magnanimous way towards the adulterous Marie Louise, of whose faithlessness he also unguardedly let slip his opinion. It is an odious habit, but we are apt to believe, without any reserve, disparaging stories, that may or may not be true, concerning men of distinction, and the more prominent the man or woman, the more viciously the scandal-mongers pursue their contemptible occupation. These vermin invariably belong to a class of industrious mediocrities who have been born with a mental kink, and their treachery, falsehood, and cowardice are incurable. They are merely hurtful creatures who spoil the earth, and are to be found dolefully chattering about what they conceive to be other men's and women's lapses from the paths of stern virtue. Their plan of life is to defame other people, and by this means proclaim their own superiority over other weak mortals. Give the unsexed woman a chance, and she will let fly with unrestrained industry. How many innocent people have had their names dragged into the public gaze by this vice! The report may arise from professional or political jealousy, and may grow into incredible accusations of immorality. Who can estimate the suffering caused to Lord Melbourne, the then Prime Minister, and to his relatives and friends, and even to some of his political opponents, and to the Hon. Mrs. Norton, one of Sheridan's beautiful daughters (who was the wife of as unscrupulous a scamp as was ever permitted to live), by the engineering of an accusation of infidelity that forced the Prime Minister and Mrs. Norton into the Courts to defend themselves against what was proved to be a malicious and unfounded story? The plaintiff's case, resting as it did upon a tissue of fabricated evidence, takes a fine place in history because of the judge's impartiality and sagacious charge, and the verdict of the jury for the defendants which was received with tumultuous cheers, characterized by the judge as "disgraceful in a court of justice." His Lordship's remonstrance was futile, and again and again the cheers were given, both in the court and outside, where the wildest enthusiasm prevailed. No one who took part in this disgraceful action came out of it with a higher reputation than Sir John Campbell, who acted for Melbourne. His entrance to the House of Commons that night was the occasion of an outburst of delirious cheering, the like of which had never been witnessed in the House. "The Tories" are said to have "affected to cheer." I give this as a notable case whereby two innocent people were threatened with ruin and disgrace by the poisonous slander circulated for both private and political ends and fostered by the worthless husband of a virtuous and amiable woman. It is common knowledge that Nelson and Sir William Hamilton were assailed by the same stinging wasps as Melbourne and Mrs. Norton (if it be proper to make a comparison), but they were different types of men living in a different atmosphere and under different circumstances. It is true that Nelson had scruples about the unwisdom of his unconventional connection with Lady Hamilton, and, big-hearted fellow that he was, he would have struggled hard to avoid giving pain to his relations and friends; and who knows that he did not? For though his actions may belie that impression, his whole attitude was reckless, silly, and whimsical. To whatever extent he may have had scruples, he certainly did not possess the faculty of holding his inclinations in check. Indeed, he made no secret of the idea that "every man became a bachelor after passing the Rock of Gibraltar," and in this notion he carried out the orthodoxy of the old-time sailor. He disliked marriage and loved glory, and being a popular hero, he was forgiven all his amorous sins, which were by many looked upon as being part of his heroism. His laughable efforts to obscure the facts might have satisfied those who wished to rely on Hamilton's benedictory absolution, had not Nelson and Emma, as I have already said, left behind them incriminating letters and documents which leave no doubt as to what they were to each other. The great Admiral industriously destroyed much of the massive correspondence, but had overlooked some of the hidden treasures. Lady Hamilton promised to destroy all hers, but failed to do so. Hence the documentary proof written by his own hand and that of Emma's cancels Nelson's childish device to throw a too critical public off the scent. Nelson was alternately weak, nervous, careless, and defiant in his attitude in regard to public opinion concerning his private life. He at one time asserted the right of living in any way he might choose, and resented the criticism of a few cackling busybodies, even though it was not in accordance with the views of the late Mr. Edward Cocker. It was his affair, and if his ideas differed from those of his critics, it was no business of theirs. His independence in this, as well as in the practical concerns of his profession, coincided with the opinions held by Sandy Mackay in "Alton Locke," who declared that he would "never bow down to a bit of brains." But these independent views alternated with weaker ones. He was as indiscreetly lavish with his love as he was with his money; at one time he would contemptuously defy the poisoned arrows that were darted at him, and when beset by the sullen storm-cloud of scandal, he let fly with red-hot courage and audaciously upheld his honour: at another time he was timid, vacillating, and ridiculous in his attempts to avert the public eye from his love affair and its consequence. People who knew him intimately were aware that Horatia was his daughter, and in order to throw them off their guard he proceeded to invent a cock-and-bull story of how he came by the child. Here is his letter to Lady Hamilton written in the middle of 1804: "I am now going to state a thing to you and to request your kind assistance which, from my dear Emma's goodness of heart, I am sure of her acquiescence in. Before we left Italy, I told you of the extraordinary circumstances of a child being left to my care and protection. On your first coming to England, I presented you the child, dear Horatia. You became, to my comfort, attached to it, so did Sir William, thinking her the finest child he had ever seen. She is become of that age when it is necessary to remove her from a mere nurse, and to think of educating her. I am now anxious for the child's being placed under your protecting wing"; a clumsy, transparent piece of foolery, which at once confirms its intention to mislead! But we are saved the trouble of interpretation, for the father goes on to write on another piece of note-paper, "My beloved, how I feel for your situation and that of our dear Horatia, our dear child." It is almost incredible that Nelson could have written such a silly fabrication. In the early part of 1804, Emma gave birth to another child, of which he believed himself to be the father. He asked the mother to call _him_ what she pleased (evidently he hoped and expected a boy), but if a girl, it was to be named Emma. It was a girl, so it was called after the mother, but it did not live long, and the father never saw it. As though he thought the letter written about little Miss Thompson (Horatia, be it understood) were not sufficiently delusive, he sends an equally absurd production to his niece, Charlotte Nelson, who lived a good deal at Merton, in which he says that he is "truly sensible of her attachment to that dear little orphan, Horatia," and although her parents are lost, yet she is not "without a fortune; and that he will cherish her to the last moment of his life, and _curse_ them who _curse_ her, and Heaven bless them who bless her." This solemn enthusiasm for the poor orphan puts Nelson out of court as a cute letter-writer. The quality of ingenious diplomacy had been left entirely out of him, and like any one else who dallies with an art for which they have no gift, he excites suspicions, and more often than not discloses the very secret he is so anxious to keep. Every line of these letters indicates a tussle between a natural tendency to frank honesty and an unnatural and unworthy method of deception. Obviously, the recipient of this precious document would have her curiosity excited over the disingenuous tale of romance. She would ask herself first of all, "Why should my kinsman be so desirous to tell me that the orphan in whom he has so fond an interest is not without a fortune? and why should the responsibility of rearing and educating the child have been entrusted to him, the most active and important Admiral in the British Navy? And if it be true that she is an orphan, surely there could be no object in supposing that any one would '_curse_ her,' especially as he declared that she was 'not without fortune,' and that she was to be known as his adopted child." The niece, being a quick-witted girl, would naturally think the problem out for herself, and decide that there was something fishy involved in the mystery of these unnecessary phrases. In dealing with his domestic complications, Nelson's mind seems to have been in a constant whirlwind, dodging from one difficulty into another, never direct, and for ever in conflict with his true self. He was brave and resourceful in everything that appertained to the service he adorned, and yet a shivering fear came over him now and again lest the truth concerning his attachment to his friend's wife should be revealed. When he was seized with these remorseful thoughts, he could not be silent; he was not possessed of the constitutional gift of reticence, and could only find relief by constant reference to the matter he wished kept secret in such a way as to cause people to put two and two together and arrive at the very truth he wished to hide. VII But whatever his ruling passion may have been, his belief in the Power that rules us all never forsook him. He believed in religious forms as of a spiritual force. He often committed himself to it, and claimed the privilege of asking for Heaven's guidance. Call it eccentricity or superstition, or what you like, but to him it was a reality. One of the many amusing instances of his devotion to religious rites was the occasion when he and Lady Hamilton stood as godfather and godmother at the christening of their daughter, Horatia Nelson Thompson,[7] by which name she was baptized. To the puritanic, orthodox mind (keeping in view all the circumstances of parentage) this will be looked upon as an act of abominable hypocrisy and sacrilege, but to him it was a pious duty. Like all highly strung and overwrought mortals, he was often moody, depressed, and, worst of all, a victim to premonitions of his early demise. His superstitious temperament was constantly worrying him, as did his faith in the predictions of a gipsy fortune-teller who had correctly described his career up to the year 1805, and then stopping had said, "I can see no further." This creepy ending of the gipsy's tale was afflicting him with a dumb pain and depression when he unexpectedly came across his sister Catherine in London. She referred to his worn, haggard look with a tenderness that was peculiarly her own. He replied, "Ah! Katty! Katty! that gipsy!" and then relapsed into morbid silence. The foreboding bore heavily on his mind, and the story may well make one's heart throb with pity for the noble fellow who was so soon to fulfil his tragic destiny. Well may we exclaim that fame seems to be the most wretched of mockeries! The Duke of Wellington, of whom it is said no dose of flattery was too strong for him to swallow, has left on record an interesting account of his meeting Nelson at the Colonial Office. He gives the account of it, thirty years after Nelson's death, to John Wilson Croker at Walmer, and here is what he says of Collingwood's great comrade:-- WALMER, _1st October, 1834_. We were [that is, Croker and he] talking of Lord Nelson, and some instances were mentioned of the egotism and vanity that derogated from his character. "Why," said the Duke, "I am not surprised at such instances, for Lord Nelson was, in different circumstances, two quite different men, as I myself can vouch, though I only saw him once in my life, and for, perhaps, an hour. It was soon after I returned from India. I went to the Colonial Office in Downing Street, and there I was shown into the little waiting-room on the right hand, where I found, also waiting to see the Secretary of State, a gentleman, whom, from his likeness to his pictures and the loss of an arm, I immediately recognized as Lord Nelson. He could not know who I was, but he entered at once into conversation with me, if I can call it conversation, for it was almost all on his side and all about himself, and in, really, a style so vain and so silly as to surprise and almost disgust me. I suppose something that I happened to say made him guess that I was _somebody_, and he went out of the room for a moment, I have no doubt to ask the office keeper who I was, for when he came back he was altogether a different man, both in manner and matter. All that I had thought a charlatan style had vanished, and he talked of the state of this country and the probabilities of affairs on the Continent with a good sense, and a knowledge of subjects both at home and abroad, that surprised me equally and more agreeably than the first part of our interview had done; in fact, he talked like an officer and a statesman. The Secretary of State kept us long waiting, and certainly, for the last half or three-quarters of an hour, I don't know that I ever had a conversation that interested me more. Now, if the Secretary of State had been punctual, and admitted Lord Nelson in the first quarter of an hour, I should have had the same impression of a light and trivial character that other people have had; but luckily I saw enough to be satisfied that he was really a very superior man; but certainly a more sudden and complete metamorphosis I never saw."[8] We must not be too critical of the Duke's opinions of the vanity of the Admiral, but it calls for some notice, inasmuch as the Duke himself is reputed to have had an uncommonly good amount of it himself, though it took a different form and created a different impression. Wellington showed it in a cold, haughty, unimaginative, repelling self-importance; fearful of unbending to his inferiors lest his dignity should be offended. Nelson's peculiarities were the very antithesis; it was his delightful egotism and vanity that added to his charm and made him such a fascinating personality. His direct slap-dash, unconventional phrases and flashes of naval brilliancy, whether in search of, or engaged in battle with the enemy, together with a natural kindness to his officers and men of all ranks, filled them with confidence and pride in having him as their chief. The "Nelson touch," the "drubbing" he swore in his own engaging way that Mr. Villeneuve--as he called him to Blackwood--was to have when he caught him, the putting of the telescope to his blind eye at Copenhagen when the signal was flying to leave off action, and then "No, damn me if I do," had an inspiring effect on his men and strengthened the belief in his dauntlessness and sagacity. "What will Nelson think of us?" remarked one of the men aboard one of the frigates that obeyed the signal. But Nelson went on fighting with complete success. "Luckily," says Wellington, "I saw enough to be satisfied that he was really a very superior man." Why "luckily"? What difference would his lack of knowledge have made? The Duke was hardly the type of man to understand the powerful personality whose style, "so vain and silly, surprised and almost disgusted" him. That view does not stand to _his_ credit, and no one else held it. But let us see what a greater man than either Wellington or Nelson says of both. Napoleon, at St. Helena, spoke in very high terms of Lord Nelson,[9] and indeed attempted to palliate that one stigma on his memory, the execution of Carraciolli, which he attributed entirely to his having been deceived by that wicked woman Queen Caroline, through Lady Hamilton, and to the influence which the latter had over him. He says of the Duke: "Judging from Wellington's actions, from his dispatches, and, above all, from his conduct towards Ney, I should pronounce him to be a poor-spirited man, without generosity, and without greatness of soul ('Un homme de peu d'esprit, sans générosité, et sans grandeur d'âme'). Such I know to be the opinion of Benjamin Constant and of Madame de Staël, who said that, except as a general, he had not two ideas. As a general, however, to find his equal amongst your own nation, you must go back to the time of Marlborough, but as anything else, I think that history will pronounce him to be a man of limited capacity ('Un homme borné')."[10] "Nelson is a brave man. If Villeneuve at Aboukir and Dumanoir at Trafalgar had had a little of his blood, the French would have been conquerors. I ought to have had Dumanoir's head cut off. Do you not think more highly of Nelson than of the best engineers who construct fortifications? Nelson had what a mere engineer officer can never acquire. It is a gift of nature." The Emperor, in his eulogy of Nelson, is not unmindful of the terrible crime he was led to commit at the instigation of that human viper, Queen Caroline, and the licentious Emma Hamilton. He, to some extent, whittles down Nelson's share of the responsibility by putting the whole blame on them. But who can read the gruesome story of the trial and hanging of the aged Prince Carraciolli without feeling ashamed that a fellow-countryman in Nelson's position should have stamped his career with so dark a crime? At the capitulation of St. Elmo, Carraciolli made his escape. He commanded a Neapolitan warship called the _Tancredi_, and had fought in Admiral Hotham's action on the 14th March, 1795, and gained distinction, accompanying the Royal Family to Palermo. He was given permission by the King to return for the purpose of protecting his large property. The French had entered Neapolitan territory and seized his estates, on the ground that he was a Royalist, and the only way he could recover them was by agreeing to take command of the Neapolitan fleet. The French were obliged to evacuate the country, and left their friends to settle matters for themselves as best they could. Carraciolli concealed himself, but was discovered in disguise and put on board the _Foudroyant_ with his hands tied behind his back. Captain Hardy, who was a man with a heart, was indignant when he saw the old man subjected to such gross indignity, and immediately ordered his hands to be liberated. Nelson committed him for trial, which commenced at ten o'clock, and at twelve he was declared guilty. At five o'clock he was hanged at the yardarm of the Neapolitan frigate _Minerva_. This poor old man was tried solely by his enemies without being allowed to have counsel or call witnesses. A miscreant called Count Thurn, a worse enemy than all, presided over the court. Carraciolli asked Lieutenant Parkinson to obtain for him a new trial. Nelson, who had ordered the first, could not or would not grant a second. Carraciolli asked to be shot, and this also was refused. On the grounds of former association, he sought the aid of Lady Hamilton, but she, being an approving party to the execution, only came from her concealment to enjoy the sight of the old Prince's dead body dangling at the yardarm. "Come, Bronte, come," said she, "let us take the barge and have another look at Carraciolli"; and there they feasted their eyes on the lifeless remains of their former associate, who had assuredly cursed them both with his last dying breath. It is the custom when sailors are buried at sea to weight their feet so that the body may sink in an upright position. The same course was adopted with Carraciolli; shot was put at his feet, but not sufficient, and he was cast into the sea. In a few days the putrified body rose to the surface head upwards, as though the murdered man had come again to haunt his executioners and give them a further opportunity of gazing at the ghastly features of their victim.[11] The sight of his old friend emerging again terrified Ferdinand, and he became afflicted with a feeling of abiding horror which he sought to appease by having the body interred in a Christian burial-ground. But the spirit of his executed friend worried him all his remaining days, and the act of burial did not save Naples from becoming a shambles of conflict, robbery, and revolution. Neither did Emma Hamilton escape her just deserts for the vile part she played in one of the most abominable crimes ever committed. Her latter hours were made terrible by the thought of the mockery of a trial, and the constant vision of the Prince's ghost glowering at her from the _Minerva's_ yardarm and from the surface of his watery tomb from which he had risen again to reproach her with the inhuman pleasure she had taken in watching the dreadful act. Nor did her shrieking avowal of repentance give the wretched Jezebel of a woman the assurance of forgiveness. She sought for distractions, and found most of them in wickedness, and passed into the presence of the Great Mystery with all her deeds of faithlessness, deceit, and uncontrollable revenge before her eyes. It is sad to read of and hear the insensate rubbish that is talked of new earths that are to evolve from war, as though it could be divorced from wounds and death, unspeakable crime, suffering in all its varied forms, and the destruction of property which must always be a direct result. The spectacle of it can never be other, except to the martially-minded, than a shuddering horror. I would ask any one who is imbued with the idea that out of wars spring new worlds to name a single instance where a nation that has engaged in it has not been left bleeding at its extremities, no matter whether it emerges as victor or vanquished. I would further ask the writer or orator who talks in this strain if he imagines that the sending of myriads of men to death can contribute to the making of new earths. The consequences are much too tragically serious to the nation, and indeed to the world, to be played with by smug diplomatists who seek to excite the populace into support of their calamitous efforts at statesmanship by shallow bursts of eloquence about the new conditions of life which are to accrue from their imitation of Germanism. No doubt Nelson thought, when he had poor old Prince Carraciolli hung, that he would create a new earth by striking terror into the hearts of the Neapolitan race, but natural laws are not worked out by methods of this kind, and Nelson had the mortification of seeing his plan of regulating human affairs create a new and more ferocious little hell on earth. His judgment at this time was very much warped through the evil influence of the Court of Naples and more especially by his infatuation for Lady Hamilton. Greville, and subsequently Sir William Hamilton, had taken great pains to educate Emma Hart. Hamilton writes to his nephew: "I can assure you her behaviour is such as has acquired her many sensible admirers, and we have good man society, and all the female nobility, with the Queen at their head, show her every mark of civility." Hamilton writes further: "Hitherto, her behaviour is irreproachable, but her temper, as you must know, unequal." Lady Malmesbury (with a decidedly sly scratch) says of her: "She really behaves as well as possible, and quite wonderfully, considering her origin and education." Sir George Elliot says: "Her manners are perfectly, unpolished, very easy, but not with the ease of good breeding, but of a barmaid; excessively good-humoured, wishing to please and be admired by everybody that came in her way. She has acquired since her marriage some knowledge of history and of the arts, and one wonders at the application and pains she has taken to make herself what she is. With men her language and conversation are exaggerations of anything I ever heard anywhere; and I was wonderfully struck with these inveterate remains of her origin, though the impression was very much weakened by seeing the other ladies of Naples." A naval lieutenant at Naples stated he "thought her a very handsome, vulgar woman." There is no stabbing with a sneer about this opinion. It expresses in a few words the candid opinion of the sailor. Mrs. St. George thinks her "bold, daring, vain even to folly, and stamped with the manners of her first situation much more strongly than one would suppose, after having represented Majesty and lived in good company fifteen years. Her dress is frightful. Her waist is absolutely between her shoulders. Her figure is colossal, but, excepting her feet, which are hideous, well shaped. The shape of all her features is fine, as is the form of her head, and particularly her ears; her teeth are a little irregular, but tolerably white; her eyes light blue, with a brown spot in one, which, though a defect, takes nothing away from her beauty or expression. Her eyebrows and hair, which, by the bye, is never clean, are dark and her complexion coarse. Her expression is strongly marked, variable, and interesting; her movements in common life ungraceful, her voice loud, yet not disagreeable." This female critic seems to have been overburdened with the weight of Emma's defects, mental and physical! Elliot says: "Her person is nothing short of monstrous for its enormity, and is growing every day. Her face is beautiful." The latter view tones down the apparent desire not to say too much in her favour. We are persuaded, in fact, that the foregoing views of Lady Hamilton's personal appearance are not correct. They give the impression that the opinions of her critics are based on the woman's lowly origin, and that they assume that because she was the offspring of poor parents she ought to be described as a fat hoyden with the manners of the kitchen. The people who knew her intimately do not make her out to be a stout, unwholesome, East-End Palestiner. The sister of Marie Antoinette, be it remembered, was her close companion, and many English ladies living in Naples and visiting there were scarcely likely to associate with a person who could not display better looks and manners than those set forth. Nelson, the Prince of Wales, and her many other men admirers, were hardly likely to tumble over each other in competition for her smiles and favours if "her dress was frightful," "her waist between her shoulders," "her hair dirty," "her feet hideous," "her bones large," "her complexion coarse," and "her person monstrous for its enormity, growing every day." We are inclined to place little dependence on the accuracy of people who seem to have described her according to their moods or perhaps according to the manner of her admirers towards themselves. That she was clever and attractive there can be no doubt, and it is equally certain that she won for herself the mortal enmity of many ladies who saw her powerful influence over prominent men and women whom they themselves bored. Some importance must be given to her husband's position as British representative; his influence must have been great, especially in Neapolitan circles. This would help her natural gifts of fascination, even though her breeding and education did not reach the standard of her blue-blooded critics. She had something that stood her in greater stead than breeding and education: she had the power of enslaving gallant hearts and holding them in thrall with many artful devices. They liked her Bohemianism, her wit, her geniality, her audacious slang, and her collection of droll epithets that fittingly described her venomous critics of a self-appointed nobility. When she could not reach the heights of such superior persons she proceeded to ridicule them with a tongue that rattled out vivid invective which outmatched anything they could say of _her_. It probably made her more enemies, but it satisfied her temper and pleased her admirers. She never appears to have been conscious of any inferiority in herself. We are inclined to agree with the opinion expressed by the naval lieutenant at Naples, who said "She was a very handsome, vulgar woman." All her portraits confirm what the sailor says about her beauty, and the most reliable records are confirmatory so far as his view of her vulgarity is concerned. But in any case, whatever may have been her physical dimensions, they were not understated by the crowd who gave vent to their aversion in this and in many other deplorable ways. There are only a few evidences of Nelson being aware of and resenting some of the disparaging remarks made about his "wife in the sight of Heaven," and these do not seem to have diminished his infatuation for her. He was accustomed to say in connection with his professional duties that whenever he followed his own head he was in general much more correct in his judgment than by following other people's opinions. He carried this plan into his private life so far as Emma was concerned, but men and women who were his intimate friends would not support the view that by following his head in _this_ particular case his judgment was sound. We may term the infatuation a deteriorated state of mind, but _he_ was sustained by the belief that she was a spirit unto him while he lived, and with his last gasp, as he was passing into the shadows, he bestowed her as a legacy to his country. We shall have something to say hereafter as to how the British Government dealt with their great Admiral's dying injunction. The Neapolitan atmosphere was vile enough, and might well have made even men and women who knew the loose side of life shrink from it, but it can never be claimed that it had a demoralizing influence on Emma, who at an early age became familiar with unspeakable vices which left her little to learn at the time Greville sold her to his uncle, who took her to a centre of sordid uncleanness, there to become his wife after a brief association as his mistress. We may have no misgiving as to her aptitude in acquiring anything she chose that was left for her to learn from a community of debauchees and parasites. The wonder is that her brain did not succumb to the poisonous influences by which she was surrounded, and that the poor girl did not sink into the depths of that luxurious sensuality which characterized Neapolitan society at that time. It was a more distinguished and fascinating type of debauchery than that which she had known in other days in England, and from which Greville had rescued her. The temptation to plunge into the boisterous merriment of a higher order of depravity than that to which she had been accustomed must have been very great to such a temperament as hers. But she worthily kept her wild, wayward spirit under restraint, and, according to Sir William Hamilton, she conducted herself in a way that caused him to be satisfied with his reforming guidance. She adapted herself to the ways of the more select social community of her new existence, and at the time Nelson made her acquaintance she had really become a creditable member of the society in which she moved. In every respect she was congenial to him. He never lost a chance of applauding her gifts and brazenly exempting himself from all moral restrictions, except, as I have said before, when he was seized with a spontaneous fit of goodness. He would then clumsily try to conceal the passion that obsessed him. He did not brood long over trifles of this kind, merely because he had lost, if ever he possessed, the power of consecutive reasoning in matters of moral convention. His Neapolitan associates were a cunning, lying, luxury-loving, depraved lot, and however strongly his principles were fixed, there can be but one opinion--that such an atmosphere was harmful to him. He speaks of Naples himself as being a country of poets, whores, and scoundrels; and Southey does not attempt to mince words, for in vigorous terms he describes England's "alliances to superannuated and abominable governments of the Continent." These are the states that we shed British blood and squandered British money over, and in truth Southey describes them as they were! The King of Naples was a great hero to stand up against the bravest, best-trained troops the world! He shivered at the thought of Nelson going out of his sight, and whimpered him into staying to guard him and his rotten kingdom. It was at this period of his gallant activity that Nelson became the victim of fulsome flattery and the associate of the most cunning, knavish charlatans in the world. These creatures never ceased to inveigh against the wrongs they were suffering for the uplifting of human rights, and because their great British ally was in need of their disinterested and distinguished co-ordination. Nelson was well aware of all this, but could not shake himself free. He loathed the slavering way in which flattery was extended to him, because it had a sickly resemblance to weeping. He declares of the Neapolitan officers, "They are boasters of the highest order, and when they are confronted with the duty of defending hearth and home, their courage ends in vapour." He avers that they "cannot lose honour, as they have none to lose," and yet he makes no serious effort to unshackle himself from a detestable position. Emma, the Queen, and King of Naples, and others, have a deep-rooted hold on him, and he cannot give up the cheap popularity of the Neapolitans. He persuades himself that the whole thought of his soul is "Down, down, with the French," and that it shall be his "constant prayer." Throughout the whole course of his brilliant career it was never doubted that the French were his great aversion, because they were his country's enemies. But the hysterical tears of Lady Hamilton and those of the Neapolitan Queen proved too strong for him. The King's beseeching fears were also added to an already difficult situation, which, he persuaded himself, could not be ignored without damaging the interests he was sent to protect; so his stay in the reeking cesspool of Neapolitanism was prolonged, but there is no reason for supposing that his "constant prayer" for the extinction of the French was any the less ardent. The fatal day of their catastrophe was only postponed. The praying went on all the same, with more or less belief in the Almighty's preference for Englishmen. VIII This is a form of cant to which those whom we regard as great men are a prey. But this pride of race is not confined to the mighty men of valour. The humble soldier and sailor, and poorest and richest of civilians, have the same inherent belief in British superiority. They talk to the Great Giver of all power in the most patronizing way, and while they profess to believe in His ordinances they treat them as though He were their vassal and not their Lawgiver. They call upon Him to break His own laws and help them to smite those whom they regard as enemies, never doubting the righteousness of their cause. The enemy, on the other hand, believe that _they_ have a monopoly of God, and avow that _their_ cause is His, and _being_ His, they grimly ask Him to settle the dispute by coming down on their side; but should they win the fight, the glory of it is seldom given to the Power whose assistance is implored, but ascribed to their own genius. Cromwell is a singular and distinguished exception. He always gave all the glory to God. Take as an example the battle of Dunbar (though there are many instances of a similar character that could be quoted during the Civil War). The battle-cry of the Parliament forces was "The Lord of Hosts," and at the opportune moment the commander of the Parliament army shouted, "Now let God arise, and His enemies shall be scattered." The Ironsides made a fearless and irresistible rush at their foes, and almost immediately Cromwell saw the Covenanters in confusion; again he shouted, "They run! I profess they run!" The quotation from the 68th Psalm was always an inspiration to these religious warriors. Old Leslie, the Scotch Covenanting general, with the patience of stupidity, had been mumbling petitions for hours to the God of the Anointed to form an alliance with him to crush the unholy rebellion against King and Covenant. "Thou knowest, O God, how just our cause is, and how unjust is that of those who are not Thy people." This moth-eaten crowd of canting hypocrites were no match for the forces who believed that they were backed by the Lord of Hosts, and they were completely routed. Sir Jacob Astley, another Royalist, on one occasion during the Civil War breathed a simple prayer with uplifted eyes. "O Lord," said he, "Thou knowest how busy I must be this day. If I forget Thee, do not Thou forget me." Then he gave the word of command to "March." He was nevertheless defeated at Stow, and seems to have been offended at the Deity for His forgetfulness, as he bitterly reproached his conquerors by telling them that they might go to play unless they fell out amongst themselves. Napoleon carried on warfare under a sterner and more self-reliant code. He had confidence in and depended on his own genius and on nature's laws. There are shoals of instances in his short and terrific career that indicate this belief in himself. He said to a regiment of horse chasseurs at Lobenstein two days before the battle of Jena, "My lads! you must not fear death; when soldiers brave death, they drive him into the enemy's ranks." On another occasion he said: "You must not fight too often with one enemy, or you teach him all your art of war." This is a thrilling truth which always tells in war, and yet behind all the apparent indifference to the great mysterious force that holds sway over human affairs there was a hidden belief in the power of the Deity to guide aright and give aid in the hour of need, even to men of unequalled talents like Napoleon himself. His spontaneous exclamations indicate that he did not doubt who created and ruled the universe, but how much he relied on this power he never really disclosed, and it can only be a supposition gathered from utterances recorded by some of his contemporaries that he had a devout belief in the great power of Christianity. "Ah!" said he one day, "there is but one means of getting good manners, and that is by establishing religion." At that time the spiritual life of France was at a low ebb, and the subject of religion was one of the most unpopular and risky topics to raise, but Napoleon knew that it would have to be tackled in the open sooner or later, and it is a matter of authentic history that he struggled to bring and ultimately succeeded in bringing back religious ordinances to France. He declared that no good government could exist for long without it. His traducers proclaimed him an atheist, and we hear the same claptrap from people now who have not made themselves acquainted with the real history of the man and his times. We do not say he was a saint, but he was a better Christian, both in profession and action, than most of the kings that ruled prior to and during his period. In every way he excels the Louis of France, the Georges of Great Britain and Hanover, the Fredericks of Prussia, and the Alexanders of Russia. The latter two he puts far in the shade, both as a statesman, a warrior, and a wise, humane ruler who saw far into futurity, and fought against the reactionary forces of Europe, which combined to put an end to what was called his ambition to dominate the whole of creation. He foretold with amazing accuracy that from his ashes there would spring up sectional wars for a time, and ultimately the selfsame elements of vicious mediocrity that destroyed him would bring about a world-conflict which would destroy itself. The laws of life are simple, but at the same time very terrible in their consequences if ignored or disobeyed. What folly to imagine that any great figure or great tragedy comes into existence by chance! Napoleon was just as necessary to the world as was Cromwell. Both had the righting of wrongs and the clearing away of the accumulation of centuries of chaos and misgovernment, and it was not to be expected that they could carry out the necessary reforms without making the authors of such an intolerable state of things angry and resentful at their iron methods of discipline. Napoleon and Cromwell possessed the combined arts of war and statesmanship to a higher degree than any of their contemporaries. Cromwell excelled Napoleon in professional Christianity. The latter never paraded his ideas of religion, though he acted on them silently and gave occasional expression to the thoughts of his soul. Indeed, he was too much given to publicly disavowing the very principles he believed in privately. This plan or habit was said to be for the purpose of creating controversy. Be that as it may, when the natural spirit moved him he would declare his views in the most robust way. On one of many occasions he startled the Council of State by reminding them that a man did not risk being killed for a few pence a day or for a paltry distinction. "You must speak to the soul," he declared, "to electrify the man." Another very notable expression is here worth referring to, as it instances how practical and human were his views. "The heart," said he, "warms the genius, but in Pitt the genius withers the heart, which is a very different thing"; and so it is that Cromwell and he were not dissimilar in many of their attributes. Indeed, it is said that Napoleon never tired of quoting or having quoted to him some striking characteristic of Cromwell. We could hardly, with any degree of good judgment, put Leslie the Covenanter or Sir Jacob Astley the Royalist, or Nelson the matchless naval strategist and national hero, on a par with either Cromwell or Napoleon. They are only here referred to in connection with the two unequalled constructive statesmen and military generals as representing a type of peculiarly religious men who have occupied high military and naval positions in the service of the State. Hawkins, Drake, Frobisher, Blake in Cromwell's time, Nelson in Napoleon's, were all fire-eating religious men, always asking favours and guidance in their perilous undertakings from the great mystic Power in whom they believed. Collingwood was a great admiral and a Christian gentleman, who never mixed religion with hysterical or dramatic flashes of quarterdeck language. He was ostentatious in nothing, and seemed to observe a strictly decorous attitude. Nelson, on the other hand, resembled a restless squirrel, always swift in his instincts, with an enthusiasm which was contagious. In many ways he did not adhere to what is called cricket in sporting phrase. He was accustomed to say, "Never mind the justice or the impudence of this or that, only let me succeed." Then he would proceed to ask the Almighty in feverish zeal to aid him in the object he had in view. He would scatter a profusion of curses about in relation to the treatment of the Admiralty towards himself, or at his disappointment in not getting to grips with the French fleet, and then proceed to ask Lady Hamilton if they had a nice church at Merton, so that they may set an example of goodness to the under-parishioners, and "admire the pigs and poultry," etc. He finds on several occasions that a picture of Emma is much admired by the French Consul at Barcelona, and feels sure it would be admired by Bonaparte, and then he continues, "I love you most dearly, and hate the French most damnably." Sometimes he said he hated the French as the devil hated holy water, which at that time was considered to be the orthodoxy of a true Briton. It was quite a pro-British attitude to patronize the maker of kings who had kept the world in awe for nearly a quarter of a century, by expecting him to admire a portrait of a loose woman to whom he referred in the most scathing manner while at St. Helena. Her reputation and Nelson's connection with her seems to have been known to him, as was also her connection with the Neapolitan Court. His indictment was terrible. Nelson had a weary, anxious time on the Toulon station. He called it his home, and said they were in fine fighting trim and wished to God the ships were the same, but they were in a very dilapidated condition, not fit to stand the bad weather they were sure to encounter. The British Minister at Naples wished to send a Frenchman who could be relied on with information as to the whereabouts of the French fleet. Nelson replied that he would not on any account have a Frenchman in the British fleet except as a prisoner. He would be grateful to him for any information he could give, but not a Frenchman would be allowed to come to him, and adds that "his mother hated the French." He was enraged at the report spread by a fussy French Admiral named M. la Touche-Treville, who was in command at Toulon. It was said that he was sent to beat Nelson as he had done at Boulogne. But he was shy about coming out and trying a tussle. Nelson said he was a miscreant, a poltroon, and a liar. The Frenchman had boasted in a publication that he had put the British fleet to flight. The British Admiral took the charge so seriously to heart that he sent a copy of the _Victory's_ log to the Admiralty to disprove the statement of the lying Admiral la Touche, and in a letter to his brother Nelson says, "You will have seen La Touche's letter of how he chased me, and how I ran. I keep it; and by God if I take him, he shall eat it." La Touche cheated Nelson of a sweet revenge by dying like a good Christian before the outraged British Admiral could get hold of him. The newspapers of France said he died of fatigue caused by walking so often to the signal post at Sepet, to watch the British fleet; and Nelson stated "that he was always sure that would be the death of him, and that if he had come out to fight him it would have added ten years on to his life." Poor Nelson was very sensitive when his professional qualities were assailed. He thought, and thought rightly, that the blockade at Toulon was an unparalleled feat of human patience and physical endurance. He had only been out of his ship three times from May 1803 to August 1805. We may write and speak about this wonderful devotion to duty, but it is only if we take time to think of the terrific things which the central figure who commanded, and the crews of the fleet of rickety, worn-out, leaky baskets--proudly spoken of as the "wooden walls of Old England"--had to contend with and actually did, that we comprehend the vast strain and task of it all. It was because Nelson was ever being reminded by some clumsy act of the Admiralty or thoughtless, ignorant criticism on the part of the politicians and civilian public generally that the work he and the men under him were doing was not appreciated as it should be, that he gave way to outbursts of violent resentment. But so far as the present writer has been able to discover, his love of approbation was so strong that an encouraging word of praise soon put him in love for the time being with those whom he had lately cursed. He never shrank from disobeying the instructions of whatever authority was over him if his judgment led him to the conclusion that he would serve his country better by disobedience and by following his own judgment; whenever he was driven to do this he was right and those above him were wrong, and in each case he was so conclusively right that no authoritative power dare court-martial him, or even censure his conduct, since the public believed more in him than in them. When the spirit of well-balanced defiance was upon him, he seemed to say to the public, to himself, and to those who were responsible for his instructions, "Do you imagine yourselves more capable of judging the circumstances, and the immeasurable difficulties surrounding them, than I am, whose business it has been to watch minutely every changing phase? Or do you think my love of country or glory so incomparably inferior to yours that I would risk any harm coming to it, or to myself and the men under me, if I was not sure of my ground? For what other reason do you think I disobeyed orders? Do you suppose I did it in order that some disaster should be the result? Or do you still think that your plan, right or wrong, should have been carried out, even though it would be accompanied with appalling consequences to life and property? If these are your views, I wish to remind you that I am the Indomitable Nelson, who will stand no damned nonsense from you or from the enemy when I see that my country, or the interests that I represent, are going to be jeopardized by your self-assertive instructions, and I wish to intimate to you that there is only one way of dealing with a Frenchman, and that is to knock him down when he is an enemy. You have obviously got to learn that to be civil to a Frenchman is to be laughed at, and this I shall never submit to." The Admiralty censured Nelson for disobeying Lord Keith's orders and, as they claimed, endangering Minorca, and also for landing seamen for the siege of Capua, and told him "not to employ the seamen in any such way in future." The Admiralty were too hasty in chastising him. He claimed that his success in freeing the whole kingdom of Naples from the French was almost wholly due to the employment of British sailors, whose valour carried the day. Nelson sent the First Lord a slap between the eyes in his best sarcastic form. He said briefly, "I cannot enter into all the detail in explanation of my motives which led me to take the action I did, as I have only a left hand, but I may inform you that my object is to drive the French to the devil, and restore peace and happiness to mankind"; and he continues, "I feel I am fitter to do the action than to describe it." And then he curtly and in so many words says to his Chief, "Don't you be troubled about Minorca. I have secured the main thing against your wish and that of Lord Keith, and you may be assured that I shall see that no harm comes to the Islands, which seems to be a cause of unnecessary anxiety to you." Incidentally, the expulsion of the French from Naples and seating Ferdinand on the throne was, as I have previously stated, not an unqualified success, nor was he accurate in his statement that he had restored happiness to millions. The success was a mere shadow. He had emancipated a set of villains. Troubridge says they were all thieves and vagabonds, robbing their unfortunate countrymen, selling confiscated property for nothing, cheating the King and Treasury by pocketing everything that their sticky fingers touched, and that their villainies were so deeply rooted that if some steps were not taken to dig them out, the Government could not hold together. Out of twenty millions of ducats collected as revenue, only thirteen millions reached the Treasury, and the King had to pay four ducats instead of one. Troubridge again intimates to his superior that Ferdinand is surrounded with a nest of the most unscrupulous thieves that could be found in all Europe. "Such damned cowards and villains," he declared, "he had never seen or heard of before." IX The French did not mince matters when their opportunity came. They, too, regarded them as vermin, and treated them according to the unrestrained edicts of the Reign of Terror, organized and administered by their late compatriots Sardanapalus, Danton, Maximilian Robespierre, and their literary colleague, the execrable Marat, who, by the way, was expeditiously dispatched by the gallant Charlotte Corday.[12] This method of bestowing the blessings of Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity was received by the Neapolitans with a frenzy from which there sprang a demoniac retaliation. Societies were formed to carry out the most atrocious crimes against the Neapolitan revolutionists, whom the Royalists hated more than they did the French. The fishermen and other miscreants came to a solemn conclusion that it was clearly their duty as a Christian people to combine, and each choose one whom they should privately guillotine when the opportunity offered. With the idea of paying a high compliment to Troubridge, who had so splendidly protected the Royalists, fought the French, and subdued the revolutionists, they made him the recipient of a decapitated head which had proudly sat on the shoulders of a revolutionist. This trophy was actually sent to him with his basket of breakfast grapes. In making the present the gallant fisherman conveyed his compliments to the Admiral, and reminded him that it was a token of his high appreciation of the Admiral's brilliant services to the Royalist cause. The Court was infested with traitors who would first carry out their vengeance against their rebellious compatriots and then cunningly lay the blame on those under whose protection they were. One of their judges informed Troubridge that he must have a Bishop to excommunicate some of the traitor priests before he could have them executed, and the fine sailor, who was sick of the crafty devils and the task he had been allocated to carry out, replied, "For the love of God hang the damned rascals first, and then let the Bishop deal with them if he did not think hanging was a sufficient degradation." Nothing in the annals of history can surpass the effrontery of these intriguers, which throws a lurid light on the class of administrators who associated with the British nation and spilt the blood of the flower of our land in bolstering up a government that was a disgrace and put all human perfidy in the shade. These allies of ours, who were joyously butchering and robbing each other, demanded a British warship to take the priests to Palermo, so that they might be degraded in a proper, Christian fashion and then brought to Naples for execution. Troubridge was audaciously requested to appoint a hangman (it may be he was asked to combine this with his other naval duties), and knowing the fine sense of noble dignity in the average sailor, we can easily imagine the flow of adjectives that accompanied the refusal, and how he would relate the outrage to which he had been subjected in quarterdeck language, that need not be here repeated, to his superior officer, Admiral Nelson, who must have felt the degradation of being selected to carry out as dirty a piece of work as ever devolved upon a public servant. To fight for his King and country was the joy of his soul, but to be selected as wet-nurse to the kingdom of Naples and the dignitaries that were at the head of it would have been an unbearable insult to his sense of proportion had it not been for the fulsome flattery, to which he was so susceptible, which was adroitly administered by the ladies of the Court, headed by the Queen and supplemented by the wife of Sir William Hamilton. There is always some fatal weakness about a great man that lures him into littleness, and this was an overwhelming tragedy in Nelson's career. The approbation of men was gratefully received and even asked for, but the adoration of women reduced him to helplessness. He was drugged by it, and the stronger the doses, the more efficacious they were. They nullified the vision of the unwholesome task he was set to carry out until his whole being revolted against the indignity of it, when he would pour out his wrath to Lady Hamilton as he did at the time when Troubridge would report to him his own trials. No doubt this caused him to realize the chaotic condition of public affairs, for he writes to the lady that "politics are hateful to him, and that Ministers of Kings are the greatest scoundrels that ever lived." The King of Naples is, he suspects, to be superseded by a prince who has married a Russian Archduchess. This, presumably, had been arranged by the "great political scoundrels." He stands loyally by Ferdinand, but soon all the work of that part of his life that gave him socially so much pleasure and professionally so much misery is to be left for evermore, and his great talents used in other and higher spheres. He had retaken Naples from the French, who had set up the Parthenopean Republic in 1799, and placed the tyrant King on his throne again; after a few more chequered years a treaty of neutrality was signed between France and Naples, which was treacherously broken by Naples. Ferdinand had to fly to Sicily, the French troops entered the capital, and Bonaparte, who had been marching from one victory to another, cleared out deep-rooted abuses and introduced reforms wherever he could. He had become the terror and the enemy of the misgoverning monarchs of that period, and the French nation had proclaimed him Emperor in 1804. He placed his brother Joseph on the throne of Naples in February 1806; Joseph ruled with marked moderation and distinction, sweeping away much of the foul canker of corruption and introducing many beneficent reforms during his two years of kingship. He then, much against his own wishes, became King of Spain, and was succeeded by his brother-in-law, Prince Joachim Murat, the dashing cavalry officer, whose decorative exterior awed friend and foe, and helped to win many a battle. His reign lasted from 1808 until 1815, and was no less distinguished than that of Joseph's. The fall of the Napoleonic régime was followed by the fall of Murat, and the despicable and treacherous Ferdinand became again the king, and brought back with him the same tyrannical habits that had made his previous rule so disastrous to the kingdom and to himself. No whitewasher, however brilliant and ingenious, can ever wipe out the fatal action of the British Government in embarking on so ill-conceived a policy as that of supporting the existence of a bloodsucking government, composed of a miscreant ruling class headed by an ignoble king, all living on the misery and blood of a semi-civilized population. It is a nauseous piece of history, with which, under sagacious administration, we should never have been connected. The main idea was to humble the pride of France, that thenceforth there might be peace in Europe. The Neapolitan revolutionists believed that the French intention was to set up a free government and deliver them from an unbearable despotism. Quite naturally, the Court took an opposite view in believing that it foreshadowed deportation, so they lost no time in proclaiming it to be conquest and merciless plunder. Nelson urged the vacillating King to advance against the French, to trust in God's blessing being bestowed upon him, his army, and his cause, and to die like a hero, sword in hand, or lose his throne. The King, always dauntless in the absence of danger, replied that he would do this, trusting in God and Nelson. His Majesty, in tickling the Admiral's susceptible spot by associating his name with that of the Deity, doubtless made a good shot, and had Nelson's sense of humour been equal to his vanity, he might not have received the oily compliment with such delightful complacency. We can imagine the scorn with which Troubridge would have received the potentate's reply had he given the same advice as Nelson. It is highly probable that had it been given on the quarterdeck of his ship, the King would have been treated to a vocabulary that would have impressed him with the necessity of scrambling quickly over the side. Nelson, it is stated, turned the French out of Naples, and they were subsequently overpowered by a plan put in force by Nelson and Troubridge, and carried into effect by men from the fleet. Captain Hallowell was ordered to proceed to Civita Vecchia and Castle St. Angelo to offer terms of capitulation. He reported the position to Troubridge, who ordered a squadron in command of Captain Louis to proceed and enforce the terms. The French, on the other hand, offered terms, but Troubridge, like Drake on another occasion, said that he had no time to parley, that they must agree to his terms or fight. The French Ambassador at Rome argued that the Roman territory belonged to the French by conquest, and the British commander adroitly replied "that it was his by reconquest." The inevitable alternative was impressive--capitulation. This was arranged, and the Roman States came under the control of the victors. Captain Louis proceeded in his cutter up the Tiber and planted the British colours at Rome, becoming its governor for a brief time. The naval men had carried out, by clever strategy and pluck, an enterprise which Sir James Erskine declined to undertake because of the insurmountable difficulties he persisted in seeing. General Mack was at the head of about 30,000 Neapolitan troops, said to be the finest in Europe. This, however, did not prevent them from being annihilated by 15,000 French, when General Championnet evacuated Rome. The King entered with all the swagger of an Oriental potentate. The Neapolitans followed the French to Castellana, and when the latter faced up to them they stampeded in disordered panic. Some were wounded, but few were killed, and the King, forgetting in his fright his pledged undertaking to go forth trusting in "God and Nelson," fled in advance of his valiant soldiers to the capital, where they all arrived in breathless confusion. General Mack had been introduced to Nelson by the King and Queen, the latter exhorting him to be on land what the Admiral had been on sea. Nelson seems to have formed an adverse opinion of Mack, who was extolled by the Court as the military genius who was to deliver Europe from the thraldom of the French. He had expressed the view that the King and Queen's incomparable general "could not move without five carriages," and that _he_ "had formed his opinion" of him, which was tantamount to saying that Mack was both a coward and a traitor. Perhaps it was undue consideration for the feelings of Caroline, sister to the late Marie Antoinette, that caused him to restrain his boiling rage against this crew of reptiles, who had sold every cause that was entrusted to their protection. Nelson was infatuated with the charms of Caroline, and as this astute lady knew how to handle him in the interests of the Neapolitan Court, he reciprocated her patronage by overlooking misdeeds that would, under different circumstances, have justified him in blowing swarms of her noble subjects out of existence. "I declare to God," he writes, "my whole study is how to best meet the approbation of the Queen." An open door and hearty reception was always awaiting their Majesties of Sicily on board Nelson's flagship when they found it necessary to fly from the wrath of their downtrodden subjects or the aggressive invasions of the French troops. The anxiety of Nelson in conveying them to their Sicilian retreat was doubly increased by the vast treasure they never neglected to take with them, and neither the sources from which it came nor the means of spending it gave trouble to their consciences. The British Government, always generous with other person's money, fed these insufferable royal personages by bleeding the life's blood out of the British public, though it is fair to say that the Government did not carry out to the full the benevolent suggestions Nelson consistently urged in their behalf. "His heart was always breaking" at some act of parsimony on the part of the Government in so tardily giving that which he pleaded was an urgent necessity for them to have. He frankly avowed that he would prefer to resign if any distinction were to be drawn between loyalty to his rightful sovereign and that of his Sicilian Majesty, who was the faithful ally of his King. The solemn audacity of this statement reveals a mind so far fallen to pieces by infatuation that it has lost the power of discrimination. It will be remembered that this gracious ally promised Nelson that he would go forth at the head of his troops and conquer or die, and then scampered off in front of his army through Rome to Naples, and, after a few days' concealment from the mob, secretly bundled into boats with his retinue on a stormy night of great peril, embarked on the Admiral's ship, and sailed for Palermo. Lady Hamilton is credited with planning (with heroic skill) means by which the Royal Family could be taken to the shore, where Nelson was to receive and convoy them in barges to the _Vanguard_. Lady Hamilton had explored a subterranean passage which led from the palace to the beach, and pronounced it a fairly safe and possible means of exit. The plan apparently succeeded, and the royal party, after a few days' precautionary stay in the Bay of Naples, were conveyed in safety to Palermo, notwithstanding the hurricane that was encountered and only weathered by a perfection of seamanship that was unequalled in our naval and merchant services at that period of our trying history. The voyage was not made without tragedy, for the youngest of the princes became ill, and as it is always inevitable to attach a heroine to circumstances that are sensational (when there is one at hand), their Majesties in their grief fixed on her who had braved the perils of investigating the possibilities of the subterranean tunnel which had proved a safe though hazardous passage for the conveyance of themselves and their vast treasure. Nor do they appear to have been unmindful of her devotion to themselves during the storm, which was the severest that Nelson said he had ever experienced--though this is a platitude, as sailors are always prone to regard the last storm as the most terrific of all! But that it was severe there can be no doubt. We may be assured that the royal parents were not in a condition to give succour to their stricken son, so he was vouchsafed to pass beyond the veil in the arms of Lady Hamilton, who had bravely defied the tempest and behaved with a compassion that must always stand to her credit. They arrived at Palermo the day after the young Prince's death, and soon settled down to their gambling and other pleasures in which Nelson, as already stated, was involved. Troubridge, with touching fidelity, pleads with him to shun the temptations by which he is beset. "I dread, my Lord," he says, "all the feasting, etc., at Palermo. I am sure your health will be hurt. If so, all their saints will be damned by the Navy"; and then he goes on to say, "The King would be better employed digesting a good Government; everything gives way to their pleasures. The money spent at Palermo gives discontent here; fifty thousand people are unemployed, trade discouraged, manufactures at a stand. It is the interest of many here to keep the King away; they all dread reform."[13] Troubridge was wellnigh driven to distraction by the terrible straits he was put to at Naples. The people were faced with the ravages of famine. Already there were scenes of unspeakable misery. His appeals to the Sicilian Court to send immediate relief was ignored. Nelson, to whom he had appealed, was absorbed in his attentions to Lady Hamilton, and refused to see the vicious indifference of the Court, who were hemmed round with a set of knaves and vagabonds, if that be not too moderate a term to use of them. Troubridge beseeches him to come to the rescue in the following terms:-- My Lord, we are dying off fast for want. I learn that Sir William Hamilton says Prince Luzzi refused corn, some time ago, and Sir William does not think it worth while making another application. If that be the case, I wish he commanded this distressing scene, instead of me. Puglia had an immense harvest: near thirty sail left Messina, before I did, to load corn. Will they let us have any? If not, a short time will decide the business. The German interest prevails. I wish I was at your Lordship's elbow for an hour. All, all, will be thrown on you: I will parry the blow as much as in my power; I foresee much mischief brewing. God bless your Lordship! I am miserable, I cannot assist your operations more. Many happy returns of the day to you (it was the first of the New Year). I never spent so miserable a one. I am not very tender-hearted, but really the distress here would even move a Neapolitan. Shortly after he writes, again pouring out fresh woes:-- I have this day saved thirty thousand people from starvation; but with this day my ability ceases. As the Government are bent on starving us, I see no alternative but to leave these poor people to perish, without our being witness of their distress. I curse the day I ever served the Neapolitan Government. We have characters, my Lord, to lose; these people have none. Do not suffer their infamous conduct to fall on us. Our country is just, but severe. Such is the fever of my brain this minute, that I assure you, on my honour, if the Palermo traitors were here, I would shoot them first, and then myself. Girgenti is full of corn; the money is ready to pay for it; we do not ask it as a gift. Oh! could you see the horrid distress I daily experience, something would be done. Some engine is at work against us at Naples, and I believe I hit on the proper person. If you complain, he will be immediately promoted, agreeably to the Neapolitan custom. All I write to is known at the Queen's. For my own part, I look upon the Neapolitans as the worst of intriguing enemies; every hour shows me their infamy and duplicity. I pray your Lordship be cautious; your honest open manner of acting will be made a handle of. When I see you and tell you of their infamous tricks, you will be as much surprised as I am. The whole will fall on you. Nelson must have known the position set forth in this feverish communication from a man whose judgment and affection he had no reason to suspect. It is a deplorable example of infatuation that every one who knew the Court and the rascals that surrounded it was aware of its shameless tricks except Nelson himself. They protested that they had withdrawn the restrictions on the exportation of corn so far as they could, and he swallowed their lies with the simplicity of a child. He must have been the victim of mesmeric influence not to see through their vile knavery in pleading poverty when they were asked to carry out an act of common humanity. All very well for him to groan over what he had to endure, and to complain that the burden of it had broken his spirit! Troubridge diagnosed the malady when he implored Nelson to relinquish the infatuation which was leading him into trouble. Why, instead of spending his time with Lady Hamilton and fawning over the King and Queen, did he leave the right thing to be done by Captain Ball (who took the bull by the horns)? All very well for him to pour out his wrath to the Duke of Clarence, that his "constant thought was down, down with the damned French villains"! and that his "blood boiled at the name of a Frenchman"! But except that we were at war with the French, were they in any degree such "damned villains" as the Neapolitans and the whole crew of Court knaves, with whom he was so blindly enamoured, who were, in reality, ready to sell their own country and his to the French whenever they saw it was to their material advantage to do so? Captain Ball did not waste time in the use of adjectives about the French and the daily "anxieties" that bore so heavily on himself and others, "breaking his heart." He gave peremptory orders to his first lieutenant to proceed off Messina and seize the ships that were lying there loaded with corn, and bring them to Malta. He defied the abominable Court of Sicily and their edicts prohibiting exportation, and his instructions were carried out. He awaited the consequences to himself with a manly consciousness that humanity must take precedence of orders dictated by a sentimental fear lest the feelings of a set of cowardly despots should be hurt. This single act of real courage and decision saved the lives of thousands of starving people, and prevented the siege from being removed. The Court of Naples dared not utter a word of condemnation against Captain Ball, but the Governor of Malta became the object of their nervous enmity, which they dare not put into practice. Lord Minto, many years after the events of which I am writing, said of Nelson, for whom he had an affectionate regard, that "he was in many points a really great man, but in others he was a baby." No one who has studied his career will ever doubt his greatness, but his peevish childishness, even when he was responsible for the carrying out of great deeds that did not come so quickly as his eager spirit craved, ofttimes tried the patience of those who set high value on his matchless talents and his otherwise lovable disposition. He was never known to take credit to himself that was due to others, but, like most great men, he took for granted that all those above or below him in rank and station should be subordinate to his whims and actions. He could only accommodate himself to being subordinate to his King, the King and Queen of Naples, and to the exhilarating influence of Lady Hamilton. Almost immediately after the seizure of the grain-laden ships, Nelson sailed for Malta, and had the good fortune to sight a French squadron, the _Généreux_, three frigates, and a corvette; after an exciting and hard chase, he came up to them, knocked their masts over the side, and captured the _Généreux_ and a frigate. X Nelson hit on a simple though ingenious plan that was frequently adopted in subsequent years by captains in the merchant service when racing, which always created excitement amongst the crew; the order was given to knock the wedges out of the deck coamings, ease the strain off the fore and aft stays, and when it was judicious to do it the pinch on the main rigging was also eased to give the masts more play. The windjammer seamen knew when this order was given that they were in for a time of "cracking on," and really enjoyed both the sport and the risk that it involved, even in the hands of skilful commanders. By this means the speed was always increased, and it was quite a common practice on tea-clippers, Australian passenger vessels, and American packets. The commander rarely left the quarterdeck on those occasions, unless his officers were really first-class men. The writer has often attained successful results when racing by putting invigorating life into his ship by these old-time methods which were handed down to each generation of sailors. No class of seamen knew more dainty tricks in manipulating sails and rigging than those who manned the slave-runner, the smuggler, and the pirate schooner. Their vessels were designed for speed, but ofttimes when they were in a tight place they were saved from being destroyed by the superb nautical dodges which they alone knew so well how and when to put in use so that their pursuers might be outwitted and outdistanced. It is more than probable that the _Généreux_ would have got away had Nelson not been a past-master in all kinds of dodges to make his ship sail faster. He knew that some of the French ships were notoriously equal to the British in sailing qualities, but he left nothing to chance. Every drop of water was ordered to be pumped out of the hold; the wedges were removed from the masts' coaming; the stays slackened; butts of water were hung on them; hammocks were piped down; every available sail was crowded on to her; the most reliable quartermasters were stationed at the wheel. The _Foudroyant_ is gaining--she draws ahead. The stump of the "heaven-born" Admiral's right arm is working with agitation as his ship takes the lead. It is now all up with the _Généreux_. She surrenders after a terrific, devastating duel, and Nelson avows that had he acted according to Lord Keith's instead of his own strategy, she would never have been taken. The _Guillaume Tell_ had been locked up in Malta Harbour for some time, and the commander decided to run the gauntlet, his reason being, it is stated, to relieve the starving garrison from having to feed his ship's company, which consisted of from 1,000 to 1,200 men. She was intercepted, engaged, and ultimately taken by the _Foudroyant_, _Lion_, and _Penelope_ after all her masts had been shot away. The thrilling story of this sea battle takes high rank in naval warfare. The French ship was fought with the fury of courage and genius that Nelson himself could not have failed to admire. The _Penelope_ and _Lion_ had been mauled off when the _Foudroyant_ came on the scene and shot away her main and mizzen masts, when a French sailor, like Jack Crawford of Sunderland at the battle of Camperdown, nailed the ensign to the stump of the mizzen mast. The foremast was the only mast now remaining, and it was soon sent flying over the side by the terrific firing from the British ship. She then took her colours down, ceased firing, and became the prize of the heroes who had fought and conquered. Nelson might and ought to have had the glory of taking the last of the Nile fleet, had he not allowed a perverse spirit to rule his will. He nursed and inflamed his imagination against Lord Keith being put over him, until that fine zeal that was so natural to him slackened. He writes to Hamilton that his "situation is irksome." "Lord Keith is commander-in-chief, and he (Nelson) has not been kindly treated." He tells Spencer that he has written to Lord Keith, asking for permission to come to England, when he (the First Lord) will "see a broken-hearted man," and that his "spirit cannot submit to it." The Admiralty may have been inspired to place Lord Keith in supreme command owing to Nelson's association with the Court party at Palermo and the growing scandal attached to it. But in that case they should have frankly told him that they feared the effect his dallying at Palermo might have on the service in many different ways. Troubridge and Captain Ball urged him with all the sincerity of devotion not to return to Sicily, but to remain at Malta, and sign the capitulation which was near at hand; but they could not alter his resolve to leave the station, which Troubridge said was due to the passion of infatuation and not to illness, which he had ascribed as the reason. Nelson tried the patience of the First Lord (who was his friend) so sorely that he wrote him a private letter which was couched in gentle though, in parts, cutting reproaches. He obviously believed that the plea of ill-health was groundless, or at all events not sufficiently serious to justify him giving up. He very fairly states that he is quite convinced that he will be more likely to recover his health in England than by an inactive stay at the Court of Sicily, however pleasing the gratitude shown him for the services he has rendered may be, and that no gratitude from that Court can be too great in view of the service he had bestowed upon it. Lord Minto, who was Ambassador at Vienna, says he has letters from Nelson and Lady Hamilton which do not make it clear whether he will go home or not. He hopes he will not for his own sake, for he wants him to take Malta first; and continues, "He does not seem conscious of the sort of discredit he has fallen into, or the cause of it, for he still writes, not wisely, about Lady Hamilton and all that," and then generously states, "But it is hard to condemn and use ill a hero, as he is in his own element, for being foolish about a woman who has art enough to make fools of many wiser than an Admiral." It is hardly possible to doubt that Nelson felt keenly mortified at losing the opportunity of personally taking the _Guillaume Tell_; but whether he did or not, he managed to subdue all appearance of envy and paid a high, sportsmanlike tribute to those who had earned the honour He could not help flavouring it, however, with some words of Nelsonian self-approbation. He said, "He gloried in them, for they were his children, they served in his school, and all of them, including himself, caught their professional zeal and fire from the great and good Earl St. Vincent." Then he goes on to say that it is a great happiness to have the Nile fleet all taken under his orders and regulations. He slyly claimed the glory of training and inspiring, though he had deprived himself of added fame by nourishing a morose feeling of jealousy against Lord Keith, who had been sent out after a few months' leave to take up his position as commander-in-chief. Owing to his absence, Nelson had acted in that capacity, and he could not bear the thought of being superseded by his old chief. In fact, Nelson could not tolerate being placed in a secondary position by any one. As I have already stated, he put Keith's authority at defiance and took responsibilities upon himself, boasting that had they failed he would have been "shot or broke." After the capture of the _Généreux_ he struck, and wrote to Keith that his health would not permit of his remaining at his post, that without "rest he was done for," and that he could "no more stay fourteen days longer on the station than fourteen years." At the same time, Captain Ball wrote to Lady Hamilton that "he had dined with him, and that he was in good health," that he did not think a short stay would do his health harm, and that "he would not urge it, were it not that he and Troubridge wished him to have the honour of the French ships and the French garrison surrender to him." Nelson's vision and good judgment at this time must have been totally at fault, and his general attitude emphasizes the splendid forbearance of his amiable commander-in-chief and distinguished subordinates who were the very cream of the Navy. I wonder what would have happened to any of the other brilliant commanders in the Royal Navy if any of them had, like Nelson, refused to obey the orders of the commander-in-chief and left his post off Malta, which was being closely besieged and the garrison daily expected to capitulate! Supposing Nelson had been the commander-in-chief and his second in command had acted as he did towards Lord Keith, there _would_ have been wigs on the green! The insubordinate officer would have been promptly court-martialled and hung at the yardarm like the Neapolitan Admiral, Francesco Caracciolo, or treated like the Hon. Admiral John Byng, who was tried for neglect of duty in an engagement off Minorca in 1756, and condemned for committing an error of judgment and shot aboard the _Monarch_ at Spithead in 1757. Nelson was a stern disciplinarian, who could never brook being under discipline himself. Nor was he ever a day without a grievance of one kind or another. It must have been a happy deliverance to Keith when he heard the last of him in the Mediterranean, for his mental capacity at this particular stage of his history was quite defective. No doubt Lady Hamilton and the Queen jabbered into his ears the injustice of the wrongs imposed upon him. After the battle of Marengo the whole of Northern Italy was given up to the French by convention signed by General Milas. The British Commander-in-Chief proceeded to Leghorn with the fugitives, to be bored, as he fretfully declared, "by Nelson craving permission to take the Queen to Palermo, and the prince and princesses to all parts of the world." The Queen was panic-stricken at the French successes, and besought him to allow her to sail in the _Foudroyant_; but Keith could not be prevailed upon to release any of his ships for such a purpose, notwithstanding Nelson's supplications and her flow of tears. He told Nelson that the royal lady should get off to Vienna as quickly as she could and abandon the idea of Palermo, supplementing his refusal to employ the _Foudroyant_ in any such way. He would only allow a frigate to escort her own frigates to Trieste. Lady Minto wrote to her sister from Florence that Keith told the Queen that "Lady Hamilton had had command of the fleet long enough," and then she adds, "The Queen is very ill with a sort of convulsive fit, and Nelson is staying to nurse her, and does not intend going home until he has escorted her back to Palermo. His zeal for the public service," she continues, "seems entirely lost in his love and vanity, and they all sit and flatter each other all day long." Nelson, steady in his attachment to the Queen declared that he would see her through and then continue his journey home with the Hamiltons. They all left Leghorn together, arrived at Florence safely, were taken from Ancona to Trieste on two Russian frigates, and landed at Trieste. The Queen of Sicily accompanied them to Vienna, and Nelson and the Hamiltons continued their triumphant journey through Germany to Hamburg. His association with the Court of Naples was now at an end, and his real friends, believing that it had corrupted and sapped his better nature, were glad of it. His mind at this time was filled with delusions about his future. He repeatedly declared that he would never serve again, and from a mixture of motives he acquired happiness in the belief that he would avenge his keenly-felt wrongs by achieving oblivion. The idea that fate held in store for him a higher and a sterner destiny never occurred to him, and he little realized that he would soon be removed from a sphere where his presence would be no longer needed. He was, in fact, combating the very destiny he had so often sought in which he would achieve immortal glory. XI The benighted policy of keeping in power a mawkish Sicilian Court, saturated with the incurable vices of cowardice, falsehood, dishonesty, and treachery, failed; and the Government of the day was saddled with the crime of squandering human life, wealth, and energy without receiving any commensurate return. If it was in the national interest to involve the country in war with France, it could have been carried on with greater credit and effect by not undertaking the hopeless task of bolstering up a Court and a people that were openly described by our own people who were sent to fight for them as "odious damned cowards and villains." We had no _real_ grounds of quarrel with France nor with her rulers. The Revolution was their affair, and was no concern of ours, except in so far as it might harmfully reflect on us, and of this there was no likelihood if we left them alone. The plea of taking the balance of power under our benevolent care was a sickly exhibition of statesmanship, and the assumption of electing ourselves guardians of the rights of small nations mere cant. It was, in fact, the canker of jealousy and hatred on the part of the reactionary forces against a man, a principle, and a people. Had those who governed this country then held aloof from the imbroglio created by the French Revolution, observed a watchful, conciliatory spirit of neutrality towards the French Government, and allowed the Continental Powers to adjust their own differences, the conditions of human existence and the hurtful administration of autocratic governments would have been reconstituted, and the world would have been the better for it; instead of which we helped to impose on Europe twenty years of slaughter and devastation. Our dismal, plutocratic rulers, with solemn enthusiasm, plunged England with all her power and influence on the side of Prussia and her continental allies, and, in conjunction with the Holy Alliance, pledged themselves never to lay down arms until France was mutilated and the master-mind which ruled her beaten and dethroned. Their task was long, costly, and gruesome. What a ghastly legacy those aggressively righteous champions of international rights have bequeathed to the world! But for their folly and frenzy we should not be engaged in a European war to-day. Poor Napoleon! He foreshadowed and used his gigantic genius to prevent it; now the recoil has come. There are always more flies caught by treacle than by vinegar, a policy quite as efficacious in preventing international quarrels as it is in the smaller affairs of our existence, provided the law which governs the fitness of things is well defined. Had we approached Napoleon in a friendly spirit and on equal terms, without haughty condescension, he would have reciprocated our cordiality and put proper value on our friendship. By wisdom and tact the duration of Napoleon's wars would have been vastly shortened, and both nations would have been saved from the errors that were committed. We did not do this, and we are now reaping the consequence. It is hardly to be expected that if hostility be shown towards an individual or a nation either will mildly submit to it. Who can estimate the passionate resentment of an emotional people at Nelson's constant declamatory outbursts against the French national character, and the effect it had throughout France? An affront to a nation, even though it is made by a person in a subordinate position, may bring about far-reaching trouble. Reverse the position of the traducer of a prominent man or his nation, and it will be easy to arrive at a correct conclusion as to the temper that would be aroused, say, in this country. We know that during a war passions are let loose and charges made by the combatants against each other which are usually exaggerated, but one thing is certain, that our soldiers and sailors have always had the well-deserved reputation of being the cleanest fighters in the world. There have never been finer examples of this than during the present war. But in justice to ourselves and to the French during the Napoleonic wars, I think it was grossly impolitic to engender vindictiveness by unjustifiable acrimony. Up to the time that Nelson left the Mediterranean for England, except for the brilliant successes of the Nile and the equally brilliant capture of the balance of the French Mediterranean fleet, and subsequently the capitulation of Malta on the 5th September, 1800, our share in the war was an exhausting and fruitless failure. The responsibility for this clearly lies at the door of the Government who planned it, and in no way attaches to Nelson and his coadjutors, whose naval and also shore exploits could not be excelled. First, it was a blink-eyed policy that plunged us into the war at all; and secondly, it was the height of human folly to waste our resources in the erroneous belief that the highly trained military men of France could be permanently subjugated in the Mediterranean by the cowardly, treacherous villains of which the Roman States armies and Governments were composed. History is not altogether faithful to the truth in its honeyed records of the ministerial pashas who tranquilly increased the national debt, inflicted unspeakable horrors on the population, and smirched our dignity by entering into a costly bond of brotherhood with an inveterate swarm of hired bloodsucking weasels. Such, forsooth! was the mental condition of the wooden souls who managed the nation's affairs, that they allowed Nelson to add another blot to our national history escutcheon by taking Ferdinand Bourbon's throne under his protection. It is true that Ferdinand "did not wish that his benefactor's name should alone descend with honour to posterity," or that he should "appear ungrateful." So the Admiral was handsomely rewarded by being presented with the Dukedom of Bronte and a diamond-hilted sword which had been given to the King by his father when he became Sicilian King. It would be nonsense even to suspect Nelson of accepting either gifts or titles as a bribe to sacrifice any interest that was British. Nelson's devotion to the Court did not express itself by seeking material recompense for the services bestowed on their Sicilian Majesties. There were various reasons for his elaborate and silly attentions. First, his range of instructions were wide in a naval sense; second, his personal attachment to the King and his Consort (especially his Consort), for reasons unnecessary to refer to again, became a growing fascination and a ridiculous craze. His fanatical expressions of dislike to the French are merely a Nelsonian way of conveying to the world that the existence of so dangerous a race should be permissive under strictly regulated conditions. He had a solemn belief in his own superiority and that of his fellow-countrymen. All the rest were to him mere human scrap, and his collection of epithets for them was large and varied. His Mogul air in the presence of aliens was traditionally seamanlike. If they failed to shudder under his stern look and gleaming eyes, it affected him with displeasure and contempt. The Neapolitans were fulsomely accommodating, though Nelson, except from the Court party and a few nobles, does not appear to have attached much value to their servile tokens of appreciation. It cannot be said that either Nelson, his Government, or his country were in any way rewarded by the sacrifices made ostensibly in the interests of human rights. Under Ferdinand Bourbon, the Neapolitan States and Sicily had no settled government. He was a contemptible poltroon, whose throne was supported for years by British money, men, and ships, and even with our strong support; he was alternately fleeing to Sicily and returning again under the formidable protection of British frigates, and, like all perfidious cowards, his short intervals of government were distinguished by a despotism that soon made it necessary for him to fly from the feelings of vengeance he had called out. Not even the power of Great Britain could prevent the kingdom of Naples from passing from one vicissitude into another. The French took possession of it in January 1799, and established what they called the Parthenopean Republic. Nelson helped to retake it in June of the same year, and put the itinerant King on the throne. The Neapolitans occupied Rome on the 30th September, 1799. In October 1805 a treaty of neutrality between France and Naples was carried into effect. Ferdinand fled to Sicily again on the 23rd January of the next year, when the master-mind came to close quarters and put an end, as I have previously stated, to Ferdinand's kingship and tyrannical rule by placing his brother Joseph on the throne; two years later Joseph became King of Spain, and his brother-in-law, Joachim Murat, succeeded him as ruler of Naples. The Neapolitans were never better governed than during the reign of these two kings. Many wise laws were made and enforced by a just and rigid discipline. Incompetent, weak despotism had disappeared, and any attempt at licence was promptly subdued. The people were put through a course of transforming education, and gradually became law-abiding citizens. Even then, methods of carrying on commerce took a marked change for the better, and predatory habits were relaxed into comparative honesty, not, it may be supposed, from virtue, but from fear of the inevitable, harsh consequences. The public, in a general way, quickly distinguish between a strong, capable ruler and a weak, incompetent one; and no matter how indulgent the latter may be, they prefer the strong wholesome-minded man to the mediocrity. Ferdinand had none of the qualities that are essential to a man occupying a position of authority. When the French came to take over the government of Naples, he flew, as usual, to Sicily, and under the continuous protection of British men-of-war was with great difficulty kept reigning there until the end of war, when he was again put on the throne of Naples in 1815, and forthwith commenced again his rule of incompetency and despotism, reversing the beneficent rule of his two able predecessors. The old reprobate died on the 4th January, 1825, having reigned off and on for sixty-five years, largely owing to the indulgent and costly support of the British Government. Caroline died on the 7th September, 1814, and to her abiding credit she condemned the action of the Court of Vienna for severing the bond of union between the Emperor Napoleon and her granddaughter, Marie Louise. She declared vehemently that it was the duty of the latter to break the prohibition by assuming disguise and tie her bed-sheets together and lower herself out of the window, and make her way quickly, in face of all obstacles, to where her husband was. Marie Louise was not a lady of unyielding morals, and at that particular time her Hapsburg, licentious mind was not centred on the misfortunes of her husband, but on Neipperg, who was employed to seduce her. Caroline told Baron Claude François de Meneval, Napoleon's private secretary, that she had reason at one time to dislike the Emperor, but now that adversity had come to him, she forgot the past. Had this same spirit of rightness and wisdom been adopted by Marie Louise's father and his allies, as was so nobly advocated by the sister of Marie Antoinette, there would have been a clean sheet in history about them, though it is obvious in many quarters that the historians have extended all the arts of ambiguity and delusion to make them appear flawless benefactors. Therefore one has to take all the circumstances handed down from many varied sources, reliable and unreliable, and after mature thought form conclusions as one's judgment may direct as to the merits and demerits of every phase that is recorded. Hence exhaustive research and long-reasoned views lead me definitely to the conclusion that there is not much that we can put to the credit of either their wisdom or humanity. My plain opinion is that they acted ferociously, and although always in the name of the Son of God, that can never absolve them from the dark deeds that stand to their names. Nor is it altogether improbable that all the nations that were concerned in the dreadful assassination are now paying the natural penalty of their guilt. Natural laws have a curious roundabout way of paying back old scores, though the tragic retribution has to be borne more often than not by the innocent descendants of those who have, in the name of the Deity, violated them. The Duke of Thunder was proud of the Sicilian meaning of his title, and so were his sailors, who loved the thrilling effect of anything that conveyed the idea of being associated with a formidable power that devastated every other force that stood in its way. For the most part, Nelson's sailors had great faith in his naval genius. He had led them many times to victory, and they did not forget the glory that attached to themselves. He planned the strategy, but it was they that fought and won the battles. The Duke of Thunder was a fine title to fight under. A name has frequently done more damage to a foe than glittering bayonets. But Nelson in no degree had the thunder element in him, so far as we are able to judge by the descriptions given to us of him. He was a dashing, courageous, scientific genius, gifted with natural instincts, disciplinary wisdom, deplorable sentimentality, and an artificial, revengeful spirit of hatred that probably became real under the arbitrary circumstances of war, but, I should say, was rarely prominent. His roaming attacks on the French were probably used more for effect, and had, we hope, only a superficial meaning. But be that as it may, it detracts from the dignity of an officer occupying, as he did, a distinguished position to use language and phrases such as are common in the forecastle or on the quarterdeck of a sailing merchantman in the early days before the introduction of steamers. Here are a few quite amusing outbursts which do not produce the impression of coming from a person known to fame as the Duke of Thunder:--On the 1st October, 1801, the preliminaries of peace with France were signed. When Nelson heard of it he thanked God, and went on to say, "We lay down our arms, and are ready to take them up again if the French are insolent." He declares there is no one in the world more desirous of peace than he is, but that he would "burst sooner than let any damned Frenchman know it." But it was too much for his anti-French sentiments when he heard that their Ambassador's carriage had been dragged by the London mob. He wrote to his medical man, and asked if he could cure madness, for he had gone mad to learn "that our damned scoundrels dragged a Frenchman's carriage." And he hoped nevermore to be dragged by such a degenerate crowd; which was exhibiting in a characteristic way his high opinion of himself. "Would our ancestors have done it?" he asks, and then continues: "The villains would have drawn Buonaparte if he had been able to get to London to cut the king's head off." The writer has a definite opinion that Bonaparte would have had a boisterous reception, and that it might have cemented a friendship that would have been a blessing to the tired world, and especially to the two warring nations. The ruler of the French nation, in spite of Nelson's views, would have made a better ally than enemy. But it often happens that nations, as well as individuals, lose their psychological opportunity. And we will risk a belief that if Nelson and Bonaparte met they would have found an affinity between them that would have made the two men friends. Southey says that the title "Duke of Thunder" is essentially applicable to Nelson, but the writer has failed to find anything to warrant such an opinion. Nelson's professional pride was for ever being needlessly hurt by Admiralty tactlessness. He had good reason on many occasions to take offence at their clumsiness. One of numerous grievances was Sir Sydney Smith being, to all appearances, put over him. He wrote to Lord St. Vincent, and reminded him that he was a man, and that it was impossible for him to serve in the Mediterranean under a junior officer. St. Vincent prevailed on him not to resign, but Sir Sydney Smith wished to carry out a policy towards the French in Egypt which Nelson hotly disapproved, and he commands him on no account to permit a single Frenchman to leave the country. He considered it would be madness to permit a band of thieves to return to Europe. "To Egypt," he says, "they went of their own accord, and they shall remain there while he commanded the squadron. Never will he consent to the return of one ship or Frenchman. I wish them to perish in Egypt, and give an awful lesson to the world of the justice of the Almighty." It will be observed how characteristically sailorly he is in his leanings on Divine monopoly in punishing the "bloody Corsican" for his wickedness in waging war against Britain. His profound belief was that the Almighty presided over our destinies then, just as the German Kaiser claims that He is presiding over his national affairs now; and, as I have pointed out before, each of the belligerents calls upon Him in beseeching reverence as a Divine compatriot, to give this Almighty power to aid in demolishing their common foe, who has broken every law of God and man. This form of blasphemy is as rampant now as it ever was. It is not a hungry belief in God that gives the initial impulse for human slaughter. It is a craving lust for the invention of all that is devilish in expeditiously disposing of human life. The international democracies who are devoting so much attention to political ascendancy should distribute their power in a way that would make it impossible for weak Governments, composed of mediocrities and bellicose rulers of nations, to make war whenever their impertinent ambitions are impressed with the sanguinary rage of conflict. All wars mutilate civilization, and put back by many generations any advance that may have been made in the interval between one butchery and another. The working people of all nations could and should combine to stop the manufacture of every implement of warfare, and make it a treasonable offence for any ruler or Government again to advocate war as a means of settling disputes. This law must of necessity be binding upon all the Powers, big and little. What a mockery this gospel of brotherhood has been in all ages! Is it an ideal ambition to bring it about? Of course it is, but we cannot catch the spirit of Christ and preach the gospel of pity, and commit hideous murder at one and the same time! hence the impudence of expecting a Divine benediction on warfare. All sorts of public and private honours and testimonials were conferred upon Nelson during his stay at Hamburg on his way home after the mortifications caused by the elusive French fleet, Calabrian brigands, and the alluring attractions of the Court of Naples and Sicily. One hundred grenadiers, each six feet high, waited at table when he was being banqueted. The owner of a Magdeburg hotel where he stayed made money by setting up a ladder outside Nelson's sitting-room and charging a fee for mounting it and peeping at the hero inside the room. An aged wine merchant at Hamburg offered him through Lady Hamilton six dozen bottles of Rhenish wine of the vintage of 1625. It had been in his own possession for fifty years, and he hoped that some of it would be allowed to flow with the blood of the immortal hero, as it would then make the giver happy. Nelson shook hands with the old man, and consented to receive six bottles, provided he would dine with him next day. A dozen were sent, and Nelson put aside six, saying that it was his hope to win half a dozen more victories, and that one bottle would be drunk after each. Another aged man, whose ideals were of a different and higher order, came along. He was a German pastor who, at eighty years of age or thereabouts, had travelled forty miles with the object of getting Nelson to write his immortal, name in his Bible. The venerable Lutheran prelate, with a grateful heart, asked to be allowed to record his blessing and admiration for the gallant British Admiral by stating to him, amongst other modestly selected phrases, that "he was the Saviour of the Christian world." The pastor's fervent testimony of his work and his mission touched Nelson on a tender spot. In his rough-and-ready way, he believed in the efficacy of prayer, and he knew when the old man, bowed down by age, parted from him that he would be steadfast in his petitions to the Giver of all mercies that he should be held in His holy keeping, body and soul. The story is an example of fine healthy devotion, free from sickly cant, though the logic of successfully squandering rich lives or even bravely sacrificing your own (as every commander risks doing) is a mysterious reason for the person who is successful in casting away human lives--even though they be those of an enemy--having the title of "the Saviour of the world" conferred upon him! The writer's idea of how to establish and advance the Christian faith is to keep out of war, and the best method of doing this is for the electorate to choose men to govern who are highly gifted with diplomatic genius. Nearly all wars are brought about through incompetent negotiators, and the wastage of life and property in carrying on a war is certainly to be attributed to men who are at the head of affairs being mere politicians, without any faculty whatever for carrying out great undertakings. They are simply mischievous shadows, and merely excel as intriguers in putting good men out of office and themselves in. It is the selection of men for the posts they are eminently suited to fill that counts in any department of life, but it is more manifestly important in affairs of Government. For instance, nothing but disaster can follow if a man is made Chancellor of the Exchequer who has no instinct for national finance, and the same thing applies to a Foreign Secretary who has no knowledge of or natural instinct for international diplomacy. At the same time, an adroit commercial expert may be utterly useless in dealing with matters of State that are affected by trade. The two positions are wide apart, and are a business in themselves. The writer's view is that to fill any department of State satisfactorily the head should have both political and commercial training, combined with wholesome instinct. I don't say that trade is altogether affected by the kind of Government that is in power, but bad trade and bad government combined make a terrific burden for any nation to carry. Service men, in the main, measure and think always from a military or naval point of view. Some of them have quite a genius for organizing in matters concerning their different professions. Take the late Lord Kitchener. In Army matters he was unequalled as an organizer but abominably traduced. Then there is Lord Fisher, who easily heads everybody connected with the Navy, as a great Admiral who can never be deprived of the merit of being the creator of our modern fleet. He combines with a matchless genius for control a fine organizing brain. The politician, with his amateurish antics, deprived the British Empire of the services of an outstanding figure that would have saved us many lives and many ships, without taking into account the vast quantity of merchandise and foodstuffs that have perished. It is not by creating confusion that the best interest of the nation is served, either in peace-time or during war. Those robust rhetoricians who massacre level-headed government and substitute a system of make-shift experiments during a great national crisis do a wicked public disservice. I have no time to deal with these superior persons in detail, but I cannot keep my thoughts from the terrible bitterness and anguish their haphazard experiments may have caused. The destroying force will eat into the very entrails of our national life if some powerful resolute personality does not arise to put an end to the hopeless extemporizing and contempt for sober, solid, orderly administration. The truth is that, if a government or anything else is wrongly conceived, natural laws will never help it to right itself, and it ends in catastrophe. Such governments are inflicted on us from time to time as a chastisement, it is said, for our national sins, and the process of disintegration is deadly in its effects. The only consoling feature of it is that history is repeating itself with strange accuracy, as may be verified by a glance into the manuscripts of Mr. Fortescue at Dropmore. Herein you will find many striking resemblances between the constitution of the Government then and the tribulation we are passing through at the present time. One important event of that period has been avoided up to the present; none has demanded a settlement of his differences by means of a duelling contest, as did Castlereagh and Canning.[14] They had a coalition of all the talents then as they presume to have now, though there has been no real evidence of it, either in or out of Parliament. XII Poor Nelson had a terrible time with one and another of them, as they had with him, if history may be relied on. His periodical defiances and his contempt for his superiors is quite edifying. He laid down the law like a bishop when his moods were in full play. The great naval, commercial, and military figure to which Nelson comes nearest is Drake, and the nearest to Nelson in versatility is Lord Fisher, who must have had an engaging time with those who wished to assume control of the Navy over his level head. I question whether any man holding a high position in the British Navy, at any time, could combine naval, military, and administrative genius, together with sound common sense, as Nelson did. We have devoted so much attention to the study of his naval accomplishments that many of his other practical gifts have been overlooked. It is common belief, in civilian circles at any rate, and there is good ground for it, that both the naval and military men do not realize how much their existence depends on a well-handled and judiciously treated mercantile marine. I have too much regard for every phase of seafaring life to criticize it unfairly, but, except on very rare occasions, I have found naval and military men so profoundly absorbed in their own professions that they do not trouble to regard anything else as being essential. The present war will have revealed many things that were not thought of in other days. One of Nelson's outstanding anxieties was lest any harm should befall our commerce, and he protected it and our shipping with fine vigilance and with scant support from the then Government, which would not supply him with ships; this at times drove him to expressions of despair. Privateering was more rampant then than it is now, and the belligerents had great difficulty in enforcing neutrals to observe neutrality. Indeed, the circumstances were such that it became impossible to prevent leakage. The British Admiral was continually protesting to the neutrals against the system of smuggling and privateering, but it was hardly consistent, seeing that we were obliged to make breaches of neutrality in order to get our supplies. Small privateers, consisting sometimes of mere longboats, infested every swatch and corner they could get into on the Spanish shores, the Ionian Islands, the Barbary coast, the Balearic Islands, and Sicily. We indicted France for enforcing subsidies from Spain, compelling the Neapolitans to provide for her soldiers occupying Neapolitan territory. We, on the other hand, were obliged to make use of neutral ports for supplies required for the Gulf of Lyons fleet. It was a curious position, and both France and England were parties to the anomaly, and each accused the other of the impiety of it. The British Admiral and his officers never lost an opportunity of destroying the marauders when caught within neutral limits, and Nelson never flinched from supporting his officers in the matter. "The protection," he writes, "given to the enemies' privateers and rowboats is extremely destructive of our commerce," and then he goes on to give reasons why these vermin should be shot or captured. He was driven frantic by the demands made for convoys by captains and merchants, and his appeals to the Admiralty for more cruisers were unheeded. He expresses himself strongly averse from allowing even fast sailing vessels to make a passage unprotected. Perhaps no human mind that has been given grave responsibilities to safeguard was ever lacerated as was Nelson's in seeing that our commercial interest did not suffer, and that on the seas he guarded a free and safe passage should be assured to our shipping carrying food and other merchandise to the mother-country. The responsibility of carrying out even this special work in a satisfactory way was an amazing task, and no evidence is on record that he left anything to chance. Results are an eloquent answer to any doubts on that subject. In addition to policing the seas, he had the anxiety of watching the tricky manoeuvres of the French fleet, and planning for their interception and defeat should they weaken in their elusive methods. Of course, they were playing their own game, and had a right to, and it was for their opponents, whom Nelson so well represented, to outwit and trap them into fighting; but as for having any grounds for complaint, it was not only silly, but inopportune, to give expression to having a grievance against the French admirals because they cutely slipped out of his deadly grasp from time to time and made him weary of life! His grievances were easier to establish against the Board of Admiralty, who were alternately paying him compliments or insulting him. Instructions were given that could not be obeyed without involving the country in certain loss and complication. Officers, his junior in rank, were given appointments that had the appearance of placing them independent of his authority. Seniors of inferior capacity were given control over him which, but for his whimsical magnanimity, might have cost us the loss of the fleet, their crews, and our high honour and superb fighting reputation. Take for example Sir Hyde Parker's command of the Baltic fleet, or Sir John Orde's clumsy appointment to a squadron in the Mediterranean. Nothing could be so harassing to the nerves of a man sure of his own superiority as to be burdened, not only with Orde's arrogance, but his mediocrity. He was obliged to resort to subterfuge in order to get his dispatches sent home, and here again the action of the Admiralty compelled him to break naval discipline by ordering a nephew of Lord St. Vincent, a clever young captain of a frigate, to whom he was devoted, to take the dispatches to Lisbon. He told the young captain that Sir John Orde took his frigates from him, and sent them away in a direction contrary to his wishes. "I cannot get my dispatches even sent home," he said; adding, "You must try to avoid his ships." Nelson had not signed his orders, because Sir John Orde was his superior officer, but should it come to a court-martial, Hardy could swear to his handwriting, and he gave him the assurance that he would not be broken. "Take your orders, and goodbye," said he, "and remember, Parker, if you cannot weather that fellow, I shall think you have not a drop of your uncle's blood in your veins." Other Nelsonian instructions were given, and the gallant captain carried them out with a skill worthy of his ingenious, defiant chief and of his distinguished uncle. It was not only a slap in the face to Sir John Orde, but to those whose patronage had placed in a senior position a man who was not qualified to stand on the same quarterdeck with Nelson. He smarted under the treatment, but unhappily could not keep his chagrin under cover. He was always pouring his soul out to some one or other. His health is always falling to pieces after each affront, and for this reason he asks to be relieved. Here is an example of his moods. "I am much obliged to your Lordships' compliance with my requests," he says, "which is absolutely necessary from the present state of my health," and almost immediately after he tells a friend he "will never quit his post when the French fleet are at sea as a commander-in-chief once did." "I would sooner die at my post than have such a stigma upon my memory." This is a nasty dig at Lord St. Vincent, presumably for having a hand in the appointment of Sir John Orde. Then he writes to Elliot that nothing has kept him at his post but the fear of the French fleet escaping and getting to Naples or Sicily. "Nothing but gratitude for the good sovereigns would have induced him to stay a moment after Sir John Orde's extraordinary command, for his general conduct towards them is not such as he had a right to expect." I have heard that snobbishness prevails in the service now only in a less triumphant degree to what it did in Nelson's time. If that be the case, it ought to be wrestled with until every vestige of the ugly thing is strangled. The letters of Nelson to personal friends, to the Admiralty, and in his reported conversations, are all full of resentment at the viciousness of it, though he obviously struggles to curb the vehemence of his feelings. No one felt the dagger of the reticent stabber more quickly and sensitively than he. Invisible though the libeller might be, Nelson knew he was there. He could not hear the voice, but he felt the sinister action. Making full allowance for what might be put down to imagination, there is still an abundance of material to justify the belief that the first naval authority of his time was the target of snobs, and that, but for his strong personality and the fact that he was always ready to fight them in the open, he would have been superseded, and a gallant duffer might have taken his place, to the detriment of our imperial interests. It is a dangerous experiment to put a man into high office if he has not the instinct of judging the calibre of other men. This applies to every department of life nowadays. Take the Army, the Navy, departments of State, commercial or banking offices, manufacturing firms, and the making of political appointments. The latter is more carelessly dealt with than any other department of life. The public are not sufficiently vigilant in distinguishing between a mere entertaining rhetorician and a wholesome-minded, natural-born statesman. What terrible calamities have come to the State through putting men into responsible positions they have neither training, wit, nor wisdom to fill efficiently! Providence has been most indulgent and forbearing when we have got ourselves into a mess by wrong-headedness. She generally comes to our aid with an undiscovered man or a few men with the necessary gifts required for getting us out of the difficulty in which the Yellow Press gang and their accomplices may have involved the country. We know something of how the knowledge of these anomalies in public life chafed the eager spirit of Nelson, but we can never know the extent of the suffering it caused except during the Neapolitan and Sicilian days. This lonely soul lived the life of a recluse for months at a time. The monotony of the weird song of the sea winds, the nerve-tearing, lazy creak of the wooden timbers, the sinuous crawling, rolling, or plunging over the most wondrous of God's works, invariably produces a sepulchral impression even on the most phlegmatic mind, but to the mystically constituted brain of Nelson, under all the varied thoughts that came into his brain during the days and nights of watching and searching for those people he termed "the pests of the human race," it must have been one long heartache. No wonder that he lets fly at the Admiralty in some of his most passionate love-messages to the seductive Emma. His dreary life, without any exciting incident except the carrying away of sails or spars, and the irritation of not being able to get what he regarded as life or death requests carried into effect owing to the slothfulness or incompetent indifference of the Admiralty was continual agony to him. He writes in one of his dispatches to the Admiralty: "Were I to die this moment, _want of frigates_ would be found stamped on my heart. No words of mine," he continues, "can express what I have suffered and am suffering for want of them." No person could write such an unconsciously comic lament to a department supposed to be administered with proficiency unless he were borne down by a deep sense of its appalling incompetency. It is quite likely that the recipients of the burning phrases regarded them in the light of a joke, but they were very real to the wearied soul of the man who wrote them. I do not find any instances of conscious humour in any of Nelson's letters or utterances. It is really their lack of humour that is humorous. He always appears to be in sombre earnest about affairs that matter, and whimsically affected by those that don't. The following lines, which are not my own, may be regarded as something akin to Nelson's conception of himself. If he had come across them, I think he would have said to himself, "Ah! yes, these verses describe my mission and me." "Like a warrior angel sped On a mighty mission, Light and life about him shed-- A transcendent vision. "Mailed in gold and fire he stands, And, with splendours shaken, Bids the slumbering seas and lands Quicken and awaken." Nelson never attempted to carry out a mere reckless and palpably useless feat for the purpose of show. His well-balanced genius of caution and accurate judgment was the guiding instinct in his terrific thrusts which mauled the enemy out of action at the Nile, St. Vincent, Copenhagen, and Trafalgar, and enthralled the world with new conceptions of naval warfare. He met with bitter disappointments in his search for the illusive French fleet, which wore him, as he says, to a skeleton, but never once was he shaken in his vigorous belief that he would catch and annihilate them in the end. They cleverly crept out of Toulon, with the intention, it is said, of going to Egypt. Villeneuve was no fool at evasive tactics. His plan was practically unerring, and threw Nelson completely off the scent and kept him scouring the seas in search of the bird that had flown weeks before. Once the scent is lost, it takes a long time to pick it up. Villeneuve no doubt argued that it was not his purpose to give the British Admiral an opportunity of fighting just then. He had other fish to fry, and if he wished to get away clear from Toulon and evade Nelson's ships, he must first of all delude him by sending a few ships out to mislead the enemy's watchdogs or drive them off; if that succeeded (which it did not), he would then wait for a strong fair wind that would assure him of a speed that would outdistance and take him out of sight of the British squadron, and make sure that no clue to his destination was left. The wind was strong NNW.; the French fleet were carrying a heavy press of canvas and steering SSW. The British ships that were following concluded that they were out for important mischief, and returned to convey the news to Nelson, who quickly got under weigh and followed them. Meanwhile, Villeneuve's squadron, after getting from under the shelter of the land into the open sea, lost some of their spars and sails, and one vessel, it is recorded, was dismasted, which means, in seafaring interpretation, that all her masts were carried away; as she succeeded, however, in getting into Ajaccio, she can only have lost her royal topgallant, and possibly a topmast or two. If her lower masts had been carried away, she could not have got into refuge without assistance, and the rest of the fleet apparently had enough to do in looking after themselves, as they lost spars and sails too, and became somewhat scattered, but all appear to have got safely into Toulon again to refit and repair the damage done by the heavy gale they encountered. Meanwhile, Nelson, in dismay at losing touch with them, searched every nook and cranny in the Tyrrhenian Sea, and making sure that none of them were in hiding and that the sea was clear, he proceeded to act on his fixed opinion that their objective must be Egypt. So to Egypt he went, and the bitter disappointment at not finding them stunned his imagination, so sure had he been that his well-considered judgment was a thing to which he might pin his faith, and that his lust for conflict with the "pests of the human race" could not escape being realized in the vicinity of his great victory at the battle of the Nile. His grievance against Villeneuve for cheating him out of what he believed would result in the annihilation of the French Power for mischief on the seas brought forth expressions of deadly contempt for such astute, sneaking habits! But the Emperor was as much dissatisfied with the performances of his admirals as Nelson was, though in a different way. Napoleon, on the authority of the French historian, M. Thiers, was imperially displeased. He asks "what is to be done with admirals who allow their spirits to sink _into their boots_ (italics are the author's) and fly for refuge as soon as they receive damage. All the captains ought to have had sealed orders to meet at the Canary Islands. The damages should have been repaired _en route_. A few topmasts carried away and other casualties in a gale of wind are everyday occurrences. The great evil of our Navy is that the men who command it are unused to all the risks of command." This indictment is to a large extent deserved, and had his fleet been out in the Atlantic or outside the limits of the vigilance of Nelson's ships, the putting back to Toulon or anywhere to refit the topmasts, sails, or rigging would have been highly reprehensible. But in any case, I question whether the British would have shown the white feather or lack of resource under any circumstances. On a man-of-war they were supposed to have refits of everything, and men, properly qualified, in large numbers to carry out any prodigious feat. On the other hand, the British have always excelled in their nautical ability to guard against deficiency in outfit, which was not overtested unless there were sufficient cause to demand such a risk. This applies especially to the sailing war vessels in Nelson's time. I think there can be no question that the French vessels were both badly officered and manned with incapable sailors and that the damage which led them back to Toulon was caused by bad judgment in seamanship. What they called a severe gale would have been regarded by an Australian clipper or Western Ocean packet-ship in the writer's early days as a hard whole-sail breeze, perhaps with the kites taken in. It was rare that these dashing commanders ever carried away a spar, and it was not because they did not carry on, but because they knew every trick of the vessel, the wind, and the sea. It was a common saying in those days when vessels were being overpowered with canvas, "The old lady was talking to us now," i.e. the vessel was asking to have some of the burden of sail taken off her. I have known topmasts to be carried away, but it generally occurred through some flaw in a bolt or unseen defect in the rigging. So much depends on the security of little things. But when a catastrophe of this kind occurred on board a British merchantman or war vessel the men had both the courage, skill, training, and, above all, the matchless instinct to clear away the wreck and carry out the refitting in amazingly short time. That was because we were then, and are now under new conditions, an essentially seafaring race. And it was this superiority that gave Nelson such great advantages over the French commanders and their officers and seamen, though it must be admitted they were fast drilled by the force of circumstances into foes that were not to be looked upon too lightly. The elusive tactics of the French admirals then were in a lesser degree similar to those practised by the Germans now, if it be proper to speak or think of the two services at the same time without libelling them. The French were always clean fighters, however much they may have been despised by Nelson. They were never guilty of cowardly revenge. They would not then, or now, send hospital ships to the bottom with their crews and their human cargoes of wounded soldiers and nurses. Nor would they indiscriminately sink merchant vessels loaded with civilian passengers composed of men, women, and children, and leave them to drown, as is the inhuman practice of the German submarine crews of to-day. The French in other days were our bitterest enemies, and we were theirs. We charged each other with abominations only different from what we and our Allies the French are saying about Germany to-day, who was then our ally. We regarded Germany in the light of a downtrodden nation who was being crushed and mutilated under the relentless heel of the "Corsican Usurper." "Such is the rancorous hatred of the French towards us," says Collingwood in January 1798, "that I do not think they would make peace on any terms, until they have tried this experiment (i.e. the invasion of England) on our country; and never was a country assailed by so formidable a force"; and he goes on to say, "Men of property must come forward both with purse and sword, for the contest must decide whether they shall have anything, even a country which they can call their own." This is precisely what we are saying about Germany with greater reason every day at the present time (1918). It has been the common practice for German submarine commanders to sink at sight British, neutral cargo, and passenger vessels, and hospital ships loaded with wounded troops and nurses. They have put themselves outside the pale of civilization since they forced the whole world into conflict against them. Nothing has been too hideous for them to do. They have blown poor defenceless fishermen to pieces, and bombarded defenceless villages and towns, killing and maiming the inhabitants. Nelson's ardent soul must have been wearied with the perversity of the "dead foul winds" (as he described his bitter fate to Ball) that prevented him from piercing the Straits of Gibraltar against the continuous easterly current that runs from the Atlantic and spreads far into the Mediterranean with malicious fluctuations of velocity. Many a gallant sailing-ship commander has been driven to despair in other days by the friendly levanter failing them just as they were wellnigh through the Gut or had reached the foot of the majestic Rock, when the west wind would assert its power over its feebler adversary, and unless he was in a position to fetch an anchorage behind the Rock or in the bay, their fate was sealed for days, and sometimes weeks, in hard beating to prevent as little ground being lost as possible. But ofttimes they were drifted as far back as Cape de Gata in spite of daring feats of seamanship in pressing their vessels with canvas until every spar, sail, and rope was overstrained. A traditional story of sailors of that period was that only a fast clipper schooner engaged in the fruit trade and a line-of-battle ship which fired her lee guns on every tack was ever known to beat through this channel, which mystified the sailors' ideas of God. They could not understand how He could have committed such an error in planning the universe which so tried the spirits of His loyal believers! We know how catholic Nelson was in his religious views; and his feats of expressive vocabulary, which was the envy of his class at the time, became their heritage after he had accomplished his splendid results and passed into the shadows. Such things as the strength of the adverse sea winds, his experience of the capriciousness of the official mind--a capriciousness which might be reflected in the public imagination were he not to be wholly successful in getting hold of the French fleet, and the indignity of having a man like Sir John Orde put over him, all filled his sensitive nature with resentment against the ordinances of God and man. His complaints were always accompanied with a devotional air and an avowal of supreme indifference to what he regarded as the indecent treatment he received at the hands of the amateurish bureaucrats at the Admiralty. At times they were out of humour with the great chieftain, and perhaps at no time did they make him feel their dissatisfaction more than when adverse winds, a crazy fleet, and deadly current were eating deep into his eager soul at a time when the genius of seamanship was unavailing in the effort to get through into the Atlantic in pursuit of the French fleet, which his instinct told him was speeding towards the West Indies. Sir John Orde, who was an aversion to him (as well he might be), had seen the French fleet off Cadiz, and failed to procure him the information as to their course. Nelson believed, and properly believed, that an alert mind would have found a way of spying out the enemy's intentions, but Sir John's resource did not extend to anything beyond the fear of being attacked and overpowered. He obviously was devoid of any of the arts of the wily pirate or smuggler. A month after the French had passed through the Gut, Nelson got his chance. A change of wind came within five hours after a southerly slant brought his ships to anchor in Gibraltar bay for water and provisions. He immediately gave the signal to heave the anchors up, and proceeded with a fair wind which lasted only forty-eight hours. He anchored his fleet to the east of Cape St. Vincent, and took on board supplies from the transports. He received from different sources conflicting accounts as to the objective of the French, but the predominating opinion was that they had gone to the West Indies. Nelson was in a state of bewilderment, but decided to follow his own head, and pinned his faith on the instinct that told him to follow westward "to be burnt in effigy if he failed, or Westminster Abbey if he succeeded." The adventure was daring, both in point of destination and the unequal strength of the relative fleets. Nelson had ten ships of the line and three frigates, against Villeneuve's eighteen and two new line-of-battle ships. But the British Admiral's genius and the superiority of his commanders, officers, and men, should they come to battle, would more than match Villeneuve's superiority in ships. Nelson, always sure of his own powers, could also depend upon the loyalty of men of every rank under him. He knew that the terrible spirit which shattered and scattered Spanish Philip's armada was an inheritance that had grown deep into every fibre of the generations of seamen that followed Hawkins and Drake's invincibles. When Nelson delivered himself of death-or-glory heroics, he did so with the consciousness that _he_ was the spirit that enthused masses of other spirits to carry out his dominating will. On the 14th May, 1805, anchors were picked up and the fleet left Lagos Bay under full sail for the West Indies. The trade-winds were soon picked up, and every stitch of canvas that would catch a breath of wind was spread. The speed ranged from six to nine knots, according to the strength of the wind, the Admiral taking any available opportunity of conveying to the commanders the plan of attack and action should they fall in with the Frenchmen. The task of keeping his own ships together was not easy, as some were faster than others, and many had foul bottoms. There was much manipulation of yards and sails in order to keep the line in order, and Nelson even went out of his way to have a note of encouragement and kindness sent aboard the _Superb_ (seventy-four guns) for Commander Keats, whose ship had been continuously in commission since 1801, and was in bad condition. Her sailing qualities were vexatious. Keats implored that he should not be disconnected from the main fleet now that the hoped-for battle was so near at hand, and being a great favourite of Nelson's, he was given permission constantly to carry a press of canvas; so the gallant captain carried his studding sails while running before the trade-winds, but notwithstanding this effort, the lazy, dilapidated _Superb_ could not keep pace with the others, even though he was granted the privilege of not stopping when the others did. His urgency not to be dropped out on this occasion caused him the hard luck of not being at the battle of Trafalgar. The British fleet arrived at Barbadoes after a twenty-four days' passage from Lagos Bay. The French took thirty-four from Cadiz to Martinique, so that Nelson had a gain of ten days on them, and although his zeal yearned for better results, he had performed a feat that was not to be despised, and of which he and his comrades in quest of battle were deservedly proud. The French had been three weeks in the West Indies, but had done no further mischief than to take the Diamond Rock, a small British possession situated off the south end of Martinique. The whereabouts of the elusive enemy was uncertain. General Brereton, who commanded the troops at Santa Lucia gave information that they had passed on the 28th May, steering south. The admirals decided that they had proceeded to Tobago and Trinidad. Nelson was doubtful, but was obliged to pay some regard to intelligence coming from such a quarter. Accurate information received on the 9th June, 1805, confirmed the Admiral's doubts as to their objective, for they had passed Dominica on the 6th. Brereton had unintentionally misled him. Nelson was almost inarticulate with rage, and avowed that by this slovenly act the General had prevented him from giving battle north of Dominica on the 6th. "What a race I have run after these fellows!" he exclaimed, and then, as was his custom, leaning on the Power that governs all things, he declares, "but God is just, and I may be repaid for all my moments of anxiety." His belief in the advent of Divine vengeance on those who doubted or threatened the awful supremacy of British dominion on land or sea was stimulating to him. Like the Domremy maiden, who saved her king and country, he had "visions and heard voices." Whatever the mission of the French fleet may have been, there was certainly no apparent lust for aggrandizement. We may be certain that Napoleon's orders were to carry out vigorous bombardments on British possessions, and instead of doing so, Villeneuve seems to have been distractedly and aimlessly sailing about, not knowing what to do or whither to go. Apparently without any definite object, he arrived off Antigua on the 9th June, and had the good fortune, whether he sought for it or not, of capturing fourteen British merchant vessels; but he would appear to have been quite phlegmatic about making the haul. He was more concerned about the news the crews were able to give him of Nelson's arrival at Barbadoes; not that he was constrained to give him the opportunity of measuring strength with his now twenty-six of the line, but as a guide to the best means of making his escape; this may have been a strategical move of wearing down; or he may have been carrying out a concerted plan for leaving Nelson in bewilderment and proceeding with all speed to some British European point where resistance would be less and success assured, since there was no outstanding naval figure, bar Collingwood, who could stand up against so powerful a combination of ships of the line. It is questionable whether Villeneuve ever took this man of great hidden power and foresight into account. It was Nelson, his chief, who put terror into the fleet. In any case, whatever his plans may have been, the intelligence he gleaned from the seized merchant seamen caused him to make arrangements to sail from Antigua the next day for Europe. The present writer's opinion is that he may have had secret orders from Napoleon to make an attack on Ireland, as the Emperor never faltered in his view that this was the most pregnable spot in which to hazard an invasion and strike a crushing blow at the main artery. He little knew the real loyalty of the great mass of Irishmen to their own and to the motherland, and only realized later that his way to England was not through Ireland. The exit of the French was hard fate for Nelson, who had fired his enthusiasm with the hope of a great conflict and a sure victory. It was a creeping nightmare to him which was only relieved by his resolute opinion that his fame and the terror of his name had caused Villeneuve to fly from inevitable destruction. The idea of strategy did not enter into his calculations. A further consolation to him was that his arrival had saved the islands and two hundred ships loaded with sugar from being captured, so that the gain was all on his side. So far as the West Indies were concerned, the French expedition ended not only in a dead loss, but was a humiliating fiasco, unless, as I have stated before, it was a preconceived decoy for some other purpose. But whether it were strategy or decoy, it taxes one's intelligence to conceive why the French fleet did not proceed to bombard the British possessions on arrival, then steal into safe obscurity and make their way back to European waters. The evasion of Nelson's scouts in any case was a matter of adroit cunning. Had a man of Nelson's nimble wits and audacious courage commanded the enemy's fleet, the islands would have been attacked and left in a dilapidated condition. Nelson's opinion was that the Spanish portion of the expedition had gone to Havana, and that the French would make for Cadiz or Toulon, the latter he thought most likely, with the ultimate object of Egypt. And with this vision floating in his mind, he determined to make for the Straits. On the 13th June, 1805, he sailed from Antigua, and was almost merry at the thought of getting close at their heels, and toppling them into ruin before they had got into the Mediterranean. He regarded them in the light of miserable naval amateurs that could be whacked, even with the odds against him. Five days after sailing, one of his scout ships brought the news given by a vessel they spoke that she had sighted them steering north on the 15th, and as the colours of each dying day faded away and brought no French fleet in view or intelligence of them, he grew restive and filled with apprehension. He had no delusions about the accuracy of his perceptions, or the soundness of his judgment, nor the virtue of his prudence. Without a disturbing thought he pursued his course towards the Mediterranean, and unless intelligence came to him that would justify a diversion, no wild fancies would be permitted to take possession of him. On the 18th July he sighted Cape Spartel, and any sailor will say that no grass had been allowed to grow under the bottoms of the ships that made so quick a passage. But Nelson was "sorrowful" that no results had accrued. Like a strong man who has opinions and carries them through to the bitter end, he did not "blame himself." He blew off some of the pent-up bitterness of an aching heart by writing to a friend, "But for General Brereton's damned information, I would have been living or dead, and the greatest man England ever saw, and now I am nothing and perhaps would incur censure for misfortunes which may happen and have. Oh! General Brereton! General Brereton!" This explosion was indicative of bitter disappointment. It is these outbursts of devotion to a great burning ideal that give an impulse to the world. His anxiety when he made his landfall and was informed by scouts sent to meet him that the allied squadrons had not been heard of was intense. It was not until then that his vigorous mind was smitten with the possibility of the French having cheated him by going to Jamaica. Orde had been superseded by Collingwood, and was stationed off Cadiz, the purpose of which was to watch the entrance to the Mediterranean. Nelson wrote and sent him the following letter:-- MY DEAR COLLINGWOOD,--I am, as you may suppose, miserable at not falling in with the enemy's fleet; and I am almost increased in sorrow in not finding them here. The name of General Brereton will not soon be forgot. I must now hope that the enemy have not tricked me, and gone to Jamaica; but if the account, of which I send you a copy, is correct, it is more than probable that they are either gone to the northward, or, if bound to the Mediterranean, not yet arrived. The vivid symptoms of disquietude in this communication to his old friend are distinctly pathetic. In parts he is comically peevish and decidedly restrained. He mixes his fierce wrath against the hapless General Brereton with the generalizing of essentials, and transparently holds back the crushing thoughts of misadventure for which he may be held responsible by the misanthropic, scurrilous, self-assertive experts. His impassive periods were always associated with whimsical sensitiveness of being censured if his adventures should miscarry. No one knew better than he that a man in his position could only be popular if he continued to succeed. He had many critics, but always regarded them as inferior to himself, and his record justified him. What he secretly quaked at and openly defied was a general outburst of human capriciousness. There are veiled indications of this in his letter to Collingwood, who replied in well-reasoned terms, interwoven with that charm of tender sympathy that was so natural to him. He says: "I have always had the idea that Ireland was the object the French had in view," and that he still believes that to be their destination; and then he proceeds to develop his reasons, which are a combination of practical, human, and technical inferences. His strongest point is one that Nelson did not or could not know, though it may be argued that he ought to have foreseen; even then it is one expert's judgment against another's. Collingwood affirms that the Rochefort squadron, which sailed when Villeneuve did in January, returned to Europe on the 26th May. Collingwood maintains that the West Indian trip was to weaken the British force on the European side, and states that the return of Rochefort's squadron confirmed him in this. He is too generous to his mortified comrade to detract in any degree from the view that, having escaped from the West Indies, they would naturally make for Cadiz or the Mediterranean. Here is one of the many wise sayings of Napoleon: "In business the worst thing of all is an undecided mind"; and this may be applied to any phase of human affairs. Nelson can never be accused of indecision. His chase to the West Indies was a masterpiece of prescience which saved the British possessions, and, but for the clumsy intelligence he received, the French would have been a hammered wreck and the projected ruse to combine it with the Rochefort squadron off Ireland blown sky-high. The present generation of critics can only judge by the records handed down to them, and after exhaustive study we are forced to the opinion that Nelson was right in following Villeneuve to the West Indies, nor was he wrong in calculating that they were impulsively making their way back to the Mediterranean. Consistent with his habit of never claiming the privilege of changing his mind, he followed his settled opinion and defended his convictions with vehement confidence. He had not overlooked Ireland, but his decision came down on the side of Cadiz or Toulon, and there it had to rest, and in rather ridiculous support of his contention he imputes faulty navigation as the cause of taking them out of their course, and finding themselves united to the Rochefort squadron off Cape Finisterre. The bad-reckoning idea cannot be sustained. The French were no match for the British under Nelson's piercing genius as a naval strategist, or in the flashes of dazzling enthusiasm with which he led those under his command to fight, but it must also be admitted, and has been over and over again, that Villeneuve was a skilled seaman who was not likely to allow any amateur navigators in his service, and we shall see that in the plan of defence this great French Admiral showed that he was fertile in naval skill when the time came for him to fight for existence against the greatest naval prodigy in the world. Whatever the reason was that caused Villeneuve not to make for the Mediterranean, it certainly cannot be ascribed to lubberly navigation, and Nelson should never have tried to sustain his perfectly sound belief by seeking refuge in that untenable direction. God bless him all the same. On his arrival at Gibraltar on the 20th July, 1805, he set foot on shore for the first time for two years less ten days. This in itself was a great feat of hard endurance for a man who had to carry so heavy a burden of continuous physical suffering and terrible anxiety. Maddened and depressed often, stumbling often, falling often, but despairing never, sorrow and sadness briefly encompassed him when fate ordained disappointments. But his heart was big with hope that he would accomplish complete victory before the sentence of death came, which he never ceased to forebode. He was a human force, not a phenomenon. On the 22nd July, Sir Robert Calder and Villeneuve fought a drawn or indecisive battle. Only two Spanish ships of the line were taken. The French Admiral put into Vigo on the 28th, and managed to slip out, and arrived at Ferrol without being intercepted. Nelson provisioned his ships for four months, and sailed from Tetuan on the 23rd. On the 25th he passed through the Straits with the intention of going to Ferrol, Ireland, or Ushant, whichever his information and judgment told him was the best course to pursue. He experienced strong northerly winds along the Portuguese coast, which prevented him from joining the Channel Fleet off Ushant until August 16th, and as no news had been received of the French being in the Bay of Biscay or off the Irish coast, he was ordered by Cornwallis to Portsmouth, and anchored at Spithead on the 18th August. His reception from every quarter was most cordial, as well it might be! But the thought of how much greater it would have been if he had not been misguided and thereby deprived of coming to grips with the foe that was still at large and outwitting every device of bringing them to close quarters, had eaten like a canker into his troubled mind. In his letters to friends (Davison and others) his postscripts were for ever being embellished with reference to it and the darting of an incidental "damn" to General Brereton, who, it is contended, was himself deceived. But Nelson, generous as, he always was to people who were encompassed by misfortune, never would allow that Brereton had any right to allow himself to be misled. One wonders how the immortal General Brereton worked it out. In any case, the great Admiral has given him a place in history by his side. Nelson first heard of Sir Robert Calder's scrap from the Ushant squadron, and was strong in sympathy and defence against the unworthy public attacks made on the Admiral for not succeeding as he would. In writing to Fremantle about Calder, he says, amongst other things: "I should have fought the enemy, so did my friend Calder; I only wish to stand upon my own merits, and not by comparison, one way or the other upon the conduct of a brother officer," etc. This rebuke to a public who were treating his brother officer ungenerously may be summarized thus: "I want none of your praises at the expense of this gallant officer, who is serving his country surrounded with complex dangers that you are ignorant of, and therefore it is indecent of you to judge by comparing him with me or any one else. I want none of your praises at his expense." This is only one of the noble traits in Nelson's character, and is the secret why he unconsciously endeared himself to everybody. His comical vanity and apparent egotism is overshadowed by human touches such as this worthy intervention on behalf of Sir Robert Calder, who he had reason to know was not professionally well disposed to him. But his defence of Calder did not close with Fremantle, for in a letter to his brother soon after he got home he says, "We must now talk of Sir Robert Calder. I might not have done so much with my small force. If I had fallen in with them, you might probably have been a lord before I wished; for I know they meant to make a dead set at the _Victory_." These lines alone show how reverently the writer adhered to the brotherly tie of the profession. He seems to say, "Let us have no more talk of puerilities. I am the stronger. I have recently been frustrated myself. I know this business better than Calder's traducers do, and therefore conceive it my duty to defend him. He also has rendered great services to his country." When it was known that he had arrived in England, he was overwhelmed with generous tokens of affection and gratitude from all classes. Thousands crowded into Portsmouth to see him land, and the cheering was long and lusty. In London the mob, drunk with excitement, struggled to get sight of him, many crushing their way so that they might shake him by the hand or even touch him. Lord Minto said he met him in Piccadilly, took him by the arm, and was mobbed also. He goes on to say: "It is really quite affecting to see the wonder, admiration, and love for him from gentle and simple the moment he is seen," and concludes by stating that it is beyond anything represented in a play or in a poem of fame. Commercial men everywhere passed resolutions of gratitude for the protection he had secured in their different interests. The West India merchants sent a deputation to express their never-to-be-forgotten thanks, and would have loaded him with material tokens of their goodwill had it been proper to do so. He lost no time in getting to Merton, which was the thought and happiness of his soul. He was invited here, there, and everywhere, and always replied that he could not accept, as all his family were with him. Lord Minto, who was a devoted friend, visited him on the 15th August, and says that he "found him in the act of sitting down to dinner with his brother the Dean, his wife, and their children, and the children of a sister. Lady Hamilton was at the head of the table, and her mother, Mrs. Cadogan, at the bottom. His welcome was hearty. Nelson looked well and was full of spirits. Lady Hamilton," he continues, "had improved, and had added to the house and place extremely well, without his knowing she was doing it. She is a clever being, after all the passion is as hot as ever." These glad moments of keen rapture, which filled Nelson with a sort of mystic joy, were soon to be cut short. Swiftly the sweet days were passing away, and the sombre parting from "dear Merton and loving hearts for evermore" was drawing near. In his day-dreams he saw more fame, more professional gladness, more triumph. He saw, too, as he pensively walked in his garden, the grave nearly ready to receive him and the day of his glory and brightness coming. These were his abiding premonitions, which were jerked out to his close friends, and even during his last sojourn at Merton, to those he loved so well. Even at this distance of time we cannot think with composure of this many-sided man declaring sadly that death had no terrors for him, and that he was ready to face the last great problem in the conflict which was to break the power at sea of the great conqueror on land. He had not been long in the plenitude of domestic bliss before Captain Blackwood called one morning at five o'clock with dispatches sent by Collingwood for the Admiralty. Nelson was already dressed, and in his quick penetrating way told him that "he was certain he brought news of the combined enemy's fleet," and, without waiting for an answer, exclaimed, "I think I shall have to beat them," and subsequently added, "Depend upon it, Blackwood, I shall yet give M. Villeneuve a drubbing." The latter had slipped out of Ferrol and elusively made his way to Cadiz without having been seen by the British. Nelson's services were again requested by the Government, and eagerly given, though he declared that he was in need of more rest and that he had done enough. But these were mere transient observations, probably to impress those with whom he talked or to whom he wrote with the importance of his position with the Cabinet, who now regarded him as indispensable, which was in reality quite true, though he was none the less proud of the high confidence they had in him and the popular approval their selection had with the public. The phrase "Let the man trudge who has lost his budget" was mere bluff. He wanted to go all the time, and would have felt himself grievously insulted had the Government regarded even his health unequal to so gigantic a task or suggested that a better man could be found. Nelson, always hungering for approbation, slyly hinted that it would be a risky thing for the Government's existence had they not placed full control of the fleet in his hands, so popular a hold had he on all classes of naval men and the entire public imagination. Nelson was often exasperated by the dull ignorance of the Government as to how naval policy should be conducted, and by their combined irresolution and impatience at critical periods, when success depended upon his having a free hand to act as circumstances arose. Of course, he took a free hand and never failed to succeed. But he frequently complained that he laid himself open to be shot or degraded by doing so, and it is only one man in a century that is possessed of sufficient audacity to ignore the authority over him and with supreme skill to carry out his own plans. In support of the views that were bound to be held by a man of Nelson's calibre as to the qualities of some of his superiors in the Government who wished to impose upon him a definite line of action, we quote a letter written to Captain Keats, which has appeared in almost every life of Nelson that has been published. It is pregnant with subtle contemptuous remarks which may be applied to the naval administration of the present time (March 1918). It is not only a danger, but a crime, in the process of any war, but especially during the present, to gamble with the safety of the nation by neglecting to have at the head of a great department a man who has not only a genius for administrative initiative in this particular sphere but an unerring instinct to guide and grapple with its everyday perplexities. It is colossal aptitude, not mechanicalness, that is needed. But here is the matchless sailor's opinion of the situation in this respect in his day: "The Secretary of State (Lord Castlereagh), which is a man who has only sat one day in his office, and, of course, knows but little of what is passed, and indeed the Prime Minister, Pitt, were all full of the enemy's fleet, and as I am now set up for a conjurer, and God knows they will very soon find out I am far from being one, I was asked my opinion, against my inclination, for if I make one wrong guess the charm will be broken; but this I ventured without any fear, that if Calder got close alongside their twenty-seven or twenty-eight sail, that by the time the enemy had beaten our fleet soundly, they would do us no harm this year." Though Nelson did not and could not say all that was in his mind, we can read between the lines that he had no use for the theories of ministers, and would obviously have liked to have said in brutal English, "Here I am, gentlemen, do not encumber me with your departmental jargon of palpable nothings. You continue to trust in Providence; give me your untrammelled instructions as to what you wish me to do, and leave the rest to me." Here is another letter from Lord Radstock: "No official news have been received from Lord Nelson since July 27th. He then hinted that he might go to Ireland; nevertheless, we have no tidings of him on that coast. I confess I begin to be fearful that he has worried his mind up to that pitch, that he cannot bear the idea of showing himself again to the world until he shall have struck some blow, and that it is this hope that is now making him run about, half frantic, in quest of adventure. That such unparalleled perseverance and true valour should thus evaporate in air is truly melancholy." What balderdash to write about a man ablaze with reasoning energy and genius of the highest order! The noble Lord is disillusioned on his arrival in Portsmouth, and writes again in another a strain: "He (Nelson) was received in town almost as a conqueror, and was followed round by the people with huzzas. So much for a great and good name most nobly and deservedly acquired"! The previous letter indicates the mind of a fireside colossus, and shows how dangerously a big man's reputation may be at the mercy of a little one or a coterie of them. One can only describe them as portentous human snipes, whose aggressive mediocrity spreads like an attack of infectious fever, until the awful will of Heaven, for the safety of humanity, lays hands on their power for mischief. The popularity of a public servant is always in danger of a tragical end if he lives long enough. One slip of inevitable misfortune seals his doom when the pendulum swings against him. And it is generally brought by a rhetorical smiling Judas who can sway a capricious public. The more distinguished a popular man may be, the greater is the danger that the fame and reputation for which he strove may be swiftly laid low. "Who has lived as long as he chose? Who so confident as to defy Time, the fellest of mortals' foes Joints in his armour who can spy? Where's the foot will not flinch or fly? Where's the heart that aspires the fray? His battle wager 'tis vain to try-- Everything passes, passes away." The gallant and strenuous patriot whose fame will pass on to distant ages is now summoned to fulfil his destiny. He owns that he needs one more rest, but his "duty was to go forth." He "expected to lay his weary bones quiet for the winter," but he is "proud of the call," and all gallant hearts were proud to own him as their chieftain. He bargains for one of the _Victory's_ anchors to be at the bows before he arrives at Portsmouth. All his belongings are sent off on the 5th October. Lord Barham, an aged man of eighty-two years, asks him with pride to select his own officers. "Choose yourself, my Lord. The same spirit actuates the whole profession; you cannot choose wrong." He told the Cabinet what was wanted in the "annihilation of the enemy," and that "only numbers could annihilate"--presumably ships and men. The conversations he had with the authorities and the spoken words and letters sent to his friends are ablaze with inspiring, sharp-cut sentences. But those who had intimate knowledge of his tender side felt he was ill at ease, and not free from heartache at the prospect of parting. I think, in connection with _this_, Lady Hamilton's version of what passed between them when he was walking the "quarterdeck" in his garden may be true in substance, as he was still madly in love with her, and she knew how to wheedle him into a conversation and to use words that might serve a useful purpose if need be. Nor were her scruples so delicate as to prevent suitable additions being made to suit any emergency that might occur. Her account is that she saw he was looking downcast, and she told him so. He smiled, and then said, "No, I am as happy as possible"; he was surrounded by his family, his health was better since he had "been on shore, and he would not give sixpence to call the King his uncle." She replied that she did not believe him, that she knew he was longing to get at the combined fleets, that he considered them as his property, that he would be miserable if any man but himself did the business, and that he ought to have them as the price and reward of his two years' long watching and his hard chase. "Nelson," said she, "however we may lament your absence, offer your services; they will be accepted, and you will gain a quiet heart by it; you will have a glorious victory, and then you may return here and be happy." He looked at her with tears in his eyes, and said, "Brave Emma! Good Emma! If there were more Emmas, there would be more Nelsons." It puts a heavy strain upon our credulity to believe that such words were ever used by Nelson, even though we know that he was so hopelessly enamoured of this untamed creature. That he needed to be coaxed into offering his services or that he ever demurred at accepting the distinguished honours the Government had conferred upon him may be regarded as one of Emma's efforts at triumphant self-glorification and easy dramatic fibbing. She was ever striving to thrust her patriotic ardour forward in some vulgar form or other, and this occasion gave her a chance that could not be resisted. The day before Nelson's departure for Portsmouth the scalding tears flowed from her eyes continuously, she could neither eat nor drink, and her lapses into swooning at the table were terrible. These performances do not bear out the tale of Nelson's spontaneous and gushing outburst in the garden at Merton of her bravery and goodness in urging him to "go forth." It is possible that her resolution and fortitude could not stand the responsibility of pressing him to undertake a task that might be fatal to himself and foredoomed to failure. In that case she does not bear herself like a heroine, and strengthens the suspicion, as we have said, that the story of pleading with Nelson to offer his services is an impudent fabrication. Minto says that the tears and swooning is a strange picture, and assures him as before that nothing can be more pure and ardent than this flame; and _she_ might have added that they had in reality exchanged souls. Napoleon, in conversing on one occasion with his brother Lucien about one of his love affairs, said "that Madame Walewska's soul was as beautiful as her face." In nearly all his letters to Lady Hamilton, Nelson plunged into expressions of love abandonment only different from those sent by Napoleon to Josephine when he was commander-in-chief of the army of Italy. Neither of these extraordinary men could do anything by halves, and we are not left in doubt as to the seventh heaven of happiness it would have been to the less flowery-worded sailor had he been given the least encouragement to pour out his adoration of Emma's goodness and beauty. He would have excelled Napoleon's picture of Madame Walewska. Amidst the many cares that surrounded these last active days, when the dockyards were humming with the work of getting his ships refitted so that they might be put quickly into commission, he grudged every moment of forced separation from her while he was in consultation with the Government and attending to his own private preparations, which were sedulously attended to. Nothing of moment seems to have been left to chance. Not even the coffin that Captain Hallowell had given him was overlooked, for he called to give instructions to the people who had it in safe keeping, and gave them instructions to have the history of it engraved on the lid, as he might want it on his return, which is further evidence that he was permanently impressed with the fate that awaited him. The story of this strange incident of the coffin is this: After the battle of the Nile a portion of the _Orient's_ mainmast was drifting about, and was picked up by order of Captain Hallowell of the _Swiftsure_, who had it made into a coffin. It was handsomely finished, and sent to Admiral Nelson with the following letter:-- Sir,--I have taken the liberty of presenting you a coffin made from the mainmast of _Orient_, that when you have finished your military career in this world, you may be buried in one of your trophies. But that that period may be far distant is the earnest wish of your sincere friend, Benjamin Hallowell. Nelson received the weird gift in good spirits, and had it placed in his cabin. It was hardly a pleasant piece of furniture for his visitors to be confronted with, so he was prevailed upon to have it put below until it was required. A few more raging battles, and a few more years of momentous anxieties, and the prodigious hero was to become its occupant. It seems to have been landed and put in charge of a firm of upholsterers. Before leaving his home he went to the bedside where his child Horatia lay sleeping, and offered up a heart-stirring prayer that those who loved him should be a guardian spirit to her, and that the God he believed in should have her in His holy keeping. On the 13th September, 1805, he writes in his private diary:-- At half-past ten, drove from dear, dear Merton, where I left all which I hold dear in this world, to go to serve my King and country. May the great God whom I adore enable me to fulfil the expectations of my country; and if it is His good pleasure that I should return, my thanks will never cease being offered up to the throne of His mercy. If it is good Providence to cut short my days upon earth, I bow with the greatest submission, relying that He will protect those so dear to me that I may leave behind. His will be done. Amen, Amen. No more simple, fervent, and touching appeal and resignation to the will of Him Who governs all things has been seen in the English language. It is quite unorthodox in its construction, and impresses us with the idea that he is already realizing the bitterness of death, and that he is in the presence of a great Mystery, speaking to his own parting soul. The desire to live is there, but he does not ignore the almost unutterable submission of "Thy will be done." XIII Nelson joined the _Victory_ at Portsmouth on the morning of the 14th September, and met with a great public ovation. He tells Captain Hardy, as he was being rowed to the _Victory_, that he had "their huzzas when he landed" (after his prolonged period in commission), "but now," he proudly remarked, "I have their hearts." His send-off was magnificent. The contagious flow of tears, the shouting of blessings, and the fervent petitions that the God of battles should give him the victory over the enemies of human suffering and liberty were symptoms of admiration and gratitude which went hot into his blood as he sat in his barge, the object of reverence. And with a calm air of conscious power he acknowledged the honour that was showered upon him by baring his head and bowing gracefully his thanks. It was manifestly his day of paradise, and with the plaudits still ringing in his ears the _Victory's_ anchor was weighed on the following day, and he sailed from St. Helen's Roads to the great conflict and victory for which he panted, and to the doom that awaited him. He experienced foul winds until he passed Cape Finisterre, and on the 28th September he joined the fleet of twenty-nine of the line. The 29th September was the anniversary of his forty-seventh year. He says: "The reception I met with on joining the fleet caused the sweetest sensation of my life. The officers who came on board to welcome my return forgot my rank as commander-in-chief in the enthusiasm with which they greeted me. As soon as these emotions were past, I laid before them the plan I had previously arranged for attacking the enemy; and it was not only my pleasure to find it generally approved, but clearly perceived and understood." In a further communication he explains to them the "Nelson touch," and all agree that it must succeed, and that he is surrounded with friends. Then he adds: "Some may be Judas's, but the majority are certainly pleased at the prospect of my commanding them." These are joyous days for him, which are marked by the absence of any recorded misgivings. His mind is full of making preparations in every detail to cope with the advent of Villeneuve from Cadiz and for the plan of attack, of which a long memorandum was circulated to the fleet. He had planned the form of attack at Trafalgar during his stay at home, and some time before leaving Merton he confided it to Lord Sidmouth. He told him "that Rodney broke the enemy's line in one place, and that _he_ would break it in two." One of the Nelson "touches" was to "close with a Frenchman, and to out-manoeuvre a Russian," and this method of terrific onslaught was to be one of the devices that he had in store for the French at Trafalgar, and which ended fatally for himself. But it gave the enemy a staggering blow, from which they never recovered so long as the action lasted. In the General Orders he says: "Captains are to look to their particular line as a rallying point, but in case signals cannot be seen or clearly understood, _no captain can do wrong if he places his ship alongside that of an enemy_." The feeling against Sir Robert Calder for not having beaten or forced another battle on the allied fleets in July did not abate. The public were out for impeachment, and the Government did nothing to discourage it; and when Nelson was on the point of leaving England the First Lord instructed him to convey to Calder the Government's condemnation of his evident negligence or incapacity. They gave him permission to ask for the inquiry, but should he not do so, it would be ordered. Nelson wrote to Barham that he had delivered the message to Sir Robert, and that it would doubtless give his Lordship pleasure to learn that an inquiry was just what the Vice-Admiral was anxious to have, and that he had already sent a letter by the _Nautilus_ to say so, but that he (Nelson) had detained it. Nelson, in his goodness of heart, urged Sir Robert to remain until after the action, the result of which would inevitably change the feeling of the Government and the public in his favour, and he could then, without any fear, demand an inquiry. Sir Robert was so crushed with the charge hanging over him, that he insisted on being allowed to proceed to England at once, and Nelson, to ease the humiliation and suffering he was passing through, sent him off in his ninety-gun ship, instead of a frigate. The inquiry was held in due course, and judgment given against him. The finding is, in our opinion, based more on prejudice than on any fault he committed, and as to "committing an error of judgment," it is always difficult to know what is an error of judgment in circumstances such as he was confronted with. In any case, it is evident that the Government were terrified of the effect that public opinion would have on themselves if they failed to take steps to appease it. We think the Government would have been serving their country better by keeping this unfortunate officer in active service when its fleet was on the verge of a life-or-death struggle for naval supremacy than by dispensing with his services, which they had thought fit to retain from July to October. Nelson's attitude was the more patriotic and noble, and under such circumstances the verdict, however mild, was bound to be given against the man whose heart they had broken because they were afraid of public opinion. Nelson was a better judge than they. Discreet reprimand, combined with a few kindly words of encouragement, was the proper course at such a time, when every man and ship was so essential. On a previous occasion, when a "seventy-four" had stranded, the officer whose skill and efforts had refloated her was told by Nelson that he had spoken favourably of him to the Admiralty. The officer showed in suitable terms his gratitude, but added that he did not regard what he had done as meriting any notice or praise. The Admiral pointed out that a battle might easily be lost by the absence of a line-of-battle ship. When Nelson conveyed the ill-considered and stupid instructions of the Government to Sir Robert Calder to return home to be court-martialled, and the latter replied that his letter "to do so cut him to the soul and that his heart was broken," Nelson was so overcome with sympathy for Calder that he sacrificed his own opinions already expressed, and also took the risk of bringing upon himself the displeasure of the Comptroller of the Navy by giving the unfortunate man permission to proceed home in a vessel that would have been so valuable an asset to his fleet. This worthy act, had he lived and the battle of Trafalgar been drawn or lost, might have laid him open to impeachment. Nelson's fine courage and sense of proportion when he thought an injustice or undue severity was being imposed was never allowed to be trifled with by any official, no matter how high or subordinate his position might be, and his contempt for men whom he knew were miserable cocksparrow amateurs was openly avowed. Whatever the consequences, he would have sooner lost a victory than have gained one by lending himself to an act that was to injure or break his brother in arms. Calder left the fleet a few days before the action, and when it began Nelson remarked to Hardy, "What would poor Sir Robert Calder give to be with us now!" Even on the eve of a great encounter the stress of preparation did not dim his sympathy for the afflicted man, who, on more than one occasion, had allowed envy to rule his conduct towards him. After the battle of St. Vincent, for instance, Calder, in conversation with Jervis, criticized Nelson's action in departing from the plan of attack laid down by the Admiral. Jervis admitted it to be a breach, and added "if ever Calder did the same thing under similar circumstances, he would forgive him." Nelson knew Calder was envious of his growing fame, but this did not prevent him from acting as though he had always been a loyal friend. On the morning of the 19th October, 1805, the signal was passed from ship to ship acting as lookouts to the main fleet that the combined fleet were putting to sea, and it was soon discovered that their force consisted of eighteen French line-of-battle ships, seven large frigates, and two brigs. The Spanish numbered fifteen sail of the line. The British had twenty-seven sail of the line and four frigates, so that Nelson was outnumbered by five of the line, three frigates, and two brigs. The whole of the allied fleet did not get clear of the port until the 20th. The commander-in-chief was Villeneuve, and his obvious intention was to get the Straits open and, by a cunning evasion of the British fleet, make a dash through. His elusive tactics had hitherto been skilfully performed, but the British Admiral, always on the alert, anticipated that an effort would again be made to cheat him of the yearning hope of his heart, and had mentally arranged how every contingency should be coped with to prevent escape and to get to grips with the enemy. "I will give them such a shaking as they never before experienced," and at least he was prepared to lay down his life in the attempt. It is pretty certain that, after all his ships had got into the open sea, Villeneuve's intention was to see how the land lay as to the British strength, and his manoeuvring indicated that instructions had been given to hoodwink the British and slip through the Straits of Gibraltar; but seeing that the entrance was cut off for the moment, he headed westward, possibly to mislead, but always with the intention of getting into the Mediterranean. When this information was signalled by Blackwood, instructions were sent back to him that the Admiral relied on the enemy being kept in sight. Here is a letter to Lady Hamilton, dated the 19th October, 1805:-- CADIZ, BEARING E.SE. 50 MILES. MY DEAREST BELOVED EMMA: THE DEAR FRIEND OF MY BOSOM,--The signal has been made that the enemy's combined fleet are coming out of port. We have very little wind, so that I have no hopes of seeing them before to-morrow. May the God of battles crown my endeavours with success; at all events, I will take care that my name shall ever be most dear to you and Horatia, both of whom I love as much as my own life. And as my last writing before the battle will be to you, so I hope in God that I shall live to finish my letter after the battle. May Heaven bless you, prays your This was found unsigned on his desk. These are the last lines he wrote to the woman he called his "wife in the sight of God." There is none of the robust assurance of blazing deeds that he has in store for the enemy which characterize some of his earlier letters to Emma, nor is there any craving for continued existence or for extinction. But who can read this melancholy farewell without being impressed with the feeling that there is a subdued restraint to avoid uttering his thoughts on inevitable fate and eternal sleep, lest it gives anxiety and disheartens the woman he loved so well? On the same day he wrote an affectionate letter to his daughter, which is clearly intended as a supplementary outpouring of a full heart to the mother whom he knew would have to read it. The tone and wording is what a father might have written to a girl of fifteen instead of five. There is a complete absence of those dainty, playful touches that would delight a child of her age. In reality, it rather points to the idea that it was intended not only as a further farewell to mother and child, but as an historical epistle and a legacy to Horatia which she would read in other days in connection with the great battle in which he was to be engaged only a few hours after he had written it. MY DEAREST ANGEL,--I was made happy by the pleasure of receiving your letter of September the 19th, and I rejoice to hear you are so very good a girl, and love my dear Lady Hamilton, who most dearly loves you. Give her a kiss for me. The combined fleets of the enemy are now reported to be coming out of Cadiz; and therefore I answer your letter, my dearest Horatia, to mark to you that you are ever uppermost in my thoughts. I shall be sure of your prayers for my safety, conquest, and speedy return to dear Merton and our dearest good Lady Hamilton. Receive, my dearest Horatia, the affectionate blessing of your Father, NELSON AND BRONTE. The importunities of Horatia's mother were continuously being forced upon Nelson in one way or another, but he seems to have stood firm, in an apologetic way, to the instructions laid down by himself, that no women were to go to sea aboard his ship; for, having been a party to the embargo, it would have been impossible for him to make her an exception. He anticipates, as her other lovers had done, that she can be very angry, like Horatia, when she cannot have her own way, but he soothingly says that he knows his own dear Emma, if she applies her reason, will see that he is right. He playfully adds an addendum that "Horatia is like her mother, she will have her own way, or kick up the devil of a dust." He reminds Emma that she is a "sharer of his glory," which settles the question of her being allowed to sail with him, and from encountering the heavy gales and liquid hills that are experienced off Toulon week after week. He warns the lady that it would kill her and himself to witness it. Emma was too devoted to all the pleasures ashore to risk losing her life in any such uncomfortable fashion at sea, so the project was abandoned, if it was ever seriously contemplated. This astute actress knew where to touch Nelson's weak spot, and that it would send him into a frenzy of love to think of her yearning to be beside him. She would know that the rules of the Service prohibited, except under special circumstances, even the highest in rank from having their wives sail with them, and that the rule would apply more rigidly to herself, who was not Nelson's wife. She knew, in fact, that her request would flatter him, and that she would be compensated by receiving a whirlwind of devotion in reply. After the Gulf of Lyons days, no further request appears to have been made of that kind. The combined fleets had been dodging each other on the 20th, light westerly winds and calms prevailing. At daylight on the 21st the belligerent fleets were within twelve miles of each other. Nelson was on deck early, and at 7.40 a.m. made the signal "To form the order of sailing," and "To prepare for battle." Then the signal was made to "Bear up," the _Victory_ and _Royal Sovereign_ leading the way in two lines; Nelson took the weather line with his ships, and the other division followed, but the wind being light, many had barely steerage way. Fourteen vessels followed Collingwood, who was to attack the enemy's rear, while Nelson slashed into the van and centre. Villeneuve, seeing by the British formation that his number was up and that he would have to give battle, manoeuvred to keep Cadiz open, which was about twenty miles NE. of him, but the wind, being light, made it as difficult for the French Commander-in-Chief to carry out the disposition as it was for the quick-witted British Commander to prevent it. Hence the development was a lazy process, and prevented, as varying circumstances always do, any rigid plan being adhered to. Had there been a fresh breeze before the battle commenced, the chances are that the French would have secured a position that would have enabled more of the crippled ships to get into Cadiz, but even this is doubtful, as only a fluke of wind could have saved them from the strategy of the British Commander-in-Chief before the fighting began. Between eleven and twelve o'clock on the 21st October every humanly possible, detailed arrangement had been completed. Each captain knew that, so far as it was possible, he was to follow where his admiral and vice-admiral led. The spirits of all those who manned the fleet were high of hope, and the inspiring spirit said he could do no more. Nelson then went to his cabin and on his knees wrote a prayer that throbbed and will continue to throb through the universe. It exhales the spirit of bravery, and triumphant assurance of the eternal justice of the cause for which he is about to sacrifice himself, for a sombre document it is; but the soul that is in it is imperishable, and who can peruse it without vividly picturing the writer kneeling before the Omnipotent, pleading for his country's cause, and offering himself piously as a willing sacrifice! May the great God, whom I worship, grant to my country, and for the benefit of Europe in general, a great and glorious victory, and may no misconduct in any one tarnish it; and may humanity, after victory, be the predominant feature in the British fleet. For myself individually, I commit my life to Him that made me; and may His blessing alight on my endeavours for serving my country faithfully. To Him I resign myself and the just cause which is entrusted to me to defend. Amen, Amen, Amen. Then, as though apprehension of the inevitable passing was growing, the thought of the woman who is the mother of his child, and for whom he had an unquenchable love, blinds him to all sense of propriety. It puts a severe strain on our imagination to realize how a man could composedly write such a request on the verge of the greatest naval conflict in history. It is dated "21st of October, 1805, in sight of the combined fleets of France and Spain, distant ten miles":-- Whereas the eminent services of Emma Hamilton, widow of the Right Honourable Sir William Hamilton, have been of the very greatest service to my King and country to my knowledge, without ever receiving any reward from either our King and country; First, that she obtained the King of Spain's letter, in 1796, to his brother, the King of Naples, acquainting him of his intention to declare war against England, from which letter the Ministry sent our orders to the then Sir John Jervis, to strike a stroke, if opportunity offered, against either the arsenals of Spain or her fleets. That neither of these was done is not the fault of Lady Hamilton; the opportunity might have been offered. Secondly: The British fleet under my command could never have returned the second time to Egypt, had not Lady Hamilton's influence with the Queen of Naples caused letters to be wrote to the Governor of Syracuse, that he was to encourage the fleets being supplied with everything, should they put into any port in Sicily. We put into Syracuse, received every supply; went to Egypt, and destroyed the French fleet. Could I have rewarded these services, I would not now call upon my country; but as that has not been in my power, I leave Emma, Lady Hamilton, therefore a legacy to my King and country, that they will give her an ample provision to maintain her rank in life. I also leave to the beneficence of my country my adopted daughter, Horatia Nelson Thompson; and I desire she will use in future the name of Nelson only. These are the only favours I ask of my King and country at this moment when I am going to fight their battle. May God bless my King and country, and all those I hold dear! My relations, it is needless to mention, they will, of course, be amply provided for. NELSON AND BRONTE. _Witness_, HENRY BLACKWOOD. T.M. HARDY. It is of little importance whether this codicil was written at the same time as the prayer or a couple of hours before; that neither adds to nor detracts from the object of it. No definite opinion of the time is given. Blackwood and Hardy, as witnesses, would know. In any case it is an extraordinary document, and indicates unusual mental control of which few human beings are possessed. His mind must have been saturated with thoughts of the woman when the great battle was within a few minutes of commencing. Early in the morning, when he was walking the poop and cabin fixings and odds and ends were being removed, he gave stern instructions to "take care of his guardian angel," meaning her portrait, which he regarded in the light of a mascot to him. He also wore a miniature of her next his heart. Unless Captain Hardy and Captain Blackwood and others to whom he confided his love potions were different from the hearty, unconventional seamen of the writer's early sea-life, a banquet of interesting epithets could have been left to us which might have shocked the severely decorous portion of a public who assume a monopoly of inherent grace but do not understand the delightful simple dialect of the old-time sailor-men. There can be small doubt that Nelson's comrades had many a joke in private about his weird and to them unnecessarily troublesome love wailings, which would be all the more irksome when they and he had serious business in hand. Poor Sir Thomas Troubridge appears to have been the only one to have dealt frankly with him about carrying his infatuation to such lengths--especially at a time when the public service was in need of his undivided attention--and Nelson never had a kindly feeling towards him afterwards. This gallant officer and loyal friend was in command of the _Blenheim_ (seventy-four guns) when she and the _Java_ (twenty-three guns) foundered with all hands near the island of Rodriguez, in the East Indies, on the 1st February, 1807. Nelson harboured a childish bitterness against Admiral Troubridge because of his plain speaking, and especially after the latter was appointed a Lord of the Admiralty. He always believed the "hidden hand" to be that of his former friend, to whom he delighted at one time to give the term "Nonpareil." In a letter to a friend he says: "I have a sharp eye, and almost think I can see it. No, poor fellow," he continues, "I hope I do him injustice; he surely cannot forget my kindness to him," He boasts of how he spoke to St. Vincent, the former "Nonpareil." In another eloquent passage he complains that Troubridge refuses to endorse his recommendations of officers for promotion, that he has been so rebuffed that his spirits are broken and the great Troubridge has cowed him (this, of course, in derision), and if he asked for anything more he would not get it. He would never forget it. No wonder he was not well. The Admiralty are "beasts" for not allowing him to come to London, which would only deprive him of a few days' comfort and happiness, and they have his hearty prayers. He continues in the same ludicrous strain, "I have a letter from Troubridge urging me to wear flannel shirts, as though he cared for me. He hopes that I shall go and have walks ashore, as the weather is now fine." "I suppose he is laughing at me, but never mind." He suffers from sea-sickness and toothache, and "none of them care a damn about my sufferings," and so on. These misdirected outbursts of feverish antipathy to poor Troubridge were frequent, and always inconceivably comical as well as distressingly peevish. But behind it all there was a consciousness of unequalled power which every one who knew him recognized, and they therefore patiently bore with his weaknesses, trying as they sometimes were. Lord St. Vincent believed, and stated to Nelson, that the only other man who possessed the same power of infusing into others the same spirit as his own was Troubridge, and no doubt this innocent praise of a noble and gallant sailor rankled in Nelson's mind, and was the beginning of the jealousy that grew into hate. He could not brook any one being put on an equality with himself, and he clung tenaciously, though generously, to this idea of authority and superiority when he requested in his last dying gasp that he should not be superseded. After signing what is called the codicil to his will, Captains Hardy and Blackwood joined him on the poop to receive his instructions. He was calmly absorbed with the enemy's plan of defence and his own of attack. He asked Blackwood what he would consider a victory, and the latter replied, "Considering the disposition of both fleets, he thought fourteen captures would be a fine result." Nelson said he would not be satisfied with less than twenty, and that nothing short of annihilation was his object. Soon afterwards he gave orders to Mr. Pasco to make the memorable signal that ENGLAND EXPECTS EVERY MAN TO DO HIS DUTY, which sent a thrill of fiery enthusiasm throughout the whole fleet. Then the signal for "Close action" went up, and the cheering was renewed, which created a remarkable effect. Collingwood, whose attention was wholly on a Spanish three-decker that he had selected to engage, is reported to have been irritated, and spontaneously expressed the wish that "Nelson would cease signalling, as they all knew what to do." At noon the French ship, the _Fougeux_, fired the first shot of the battle. The belligerent admirals saluted in the good old pious style, like professional boxers shaking hands before the attempt to knock each other out, and in a few more minutes were engaged in deadly conflict, hurling death at each other. Nelson, in his courageous melancholy way, confident of his own powers and trusting reverently in the continuance of the lavish bounty of God, resigned his fate to Him who had given him the opportunity of doing his duty. The conspicuous splendour of the decorations which he wore on the breast of his admiral's frocker was apprehensively looked upon by his comrades, who loved him with touching loyalty. They muttered their disappointment to each other, but shrank from hurting his feelings by warning him of the danger of the sharpshooters, to whom he would be a target, remembering how he had sharply replied to some anxious soul who on a previous occasion had cautioned him with regard to his prominent appearance, "that in honour he had gained his orders, and in honour he would die with them." The battle quickly developed into a carnage. The _Bucentaure_ had found her range soon after twelve o'clock, when some of the shots went over the _Victory_. Blackwood was at this time ordered to rejoin his ship. He shook hands with his chief, and in some brief parting words expressed the "hope that he would soon return to the _Victory_ to find him well and in possession of twenty prizes"; and Nelson is reported to have calmly answered, "God bless you, Blackwood, I shall never speak to you again." His habit was to refer to death with eager frankness, and as though he were in love with it, without in the least showing any lack of alertness or detraction from the hazardous objects he had set himself to fulfil. His faith in the powerful aid of the Omnipotent was as unvarying in his sphere of warfare as was Cromwell's when he had the stern realities of human unruliness to steady and chastise. Nelson, like the latter, had in his peculiar way a deep-rooted awe and fear of God, which must have made him oblivious to all other fear. The magnificent fellow never showed greater mastery of the science of strategy, nor did he ever scan with greater vigilance the manner of carrying out the creation of his genius. Collingwood, who was first in the thick of the fight, set his heart throbbing with pride and admiration when he observed the _Royal Sovereign_ dash through the lines of the enemy, spreading devastation and death with unerring judgment. "See," said Nelson to Captain Blackwood, "how that noble fellow, Collingwood, takes his ship into action!" Then he paused for a moment, and continued, "How I envy him!" And as though the spirits of the two men were in communion with each other, Collingwood, knowing that the Commander-in-Chief's eager eye was fixed upon him in fond admiration, called out to the flag-captain near him, "Rotherham, what would Nelson give to be here?" One of those fine human touches of brotherhood which Nelson knew so well how to handle with his faultless tact had occurred the day before. Collingwood and some officers paid a visit to the _Victory_ for the purpose of receiving any instructions he might have to give. Nelson asked Collingwood where his captain was, and when he replied that they were not on friendly terms, Nelson sharply answered, "Not on good terms," and forthwith gave orders for a boat to be sent for Rotherham; and when he came aboard he took him to Collingwood and said, "Look! there is the enemy, shake hands," and they renewed their friendship by gratefully carrying out his wishes. But for this, perhaps we should have been cheated of knowing the charming anecdote, which denotes the veneration the two old friends had for each other. There is no need to make any apology for this digression, for it is to record one more of the many acts of wisdom and tenderness that were so natural to this man of massive understanding. The incalculable results that he was destined to accomplish may well be allowed to obscure any human weakness that sadly beset him. Nelson, with blithe courage, sailed right into the centre of the French fleet, which in disorder surrounded their Commander-in-Chief's ship, his intention being to capture her and take Villeneuve prisoner. Never a gun was fired from the _Victory,_ although many of her spars, sails, and her rigging had suffered severely, until she had rounded as close as it was possible under the stern of the _Bucentaure_ and got into position. Then a terrific broadside was let fly from her double-shotted guns, which raked the _Bucentaure_ fore and aft, and the booming of cannon continued until her masts and hull were a complete wreck. Many guns were dismounted and four hundred men killed. The _Victory_ then swung off and left the doomed _Bucentaure_ to be captured by the _Conqueror_, and Villeneuve was taken prisoner. After clearing the _Bucentaure_, the _Victory_ fouled the _Redoubtable_, and proceeded to demolish her hull with the starboard guns, and with her port guns she battered the _Santissima Trinidad_, until she was a mass of wreckage, and the _Africa_ and _Neptune_ forced her to surrender. Meanwhile, the _Victory_ kept hammering with her starboard guns at the _Redoubtable_ until her lower deck cannon were put out of action. Then she used her upper deck small guns and muskets from aloft. Nelson was too humane a man to use this method of warfare from the lower tops, and too practical, lest the ropes and sails should be damaged. The writer is of opinion that he was wrong in this view, as was clearly shown by the deadly execution the French musketeers did from aloft before their masts were shot away by the British big artillery. It can never be wrong to outmatch an enemy in the methods they employ, no matter what form they take. Although the victory was all on the British side at Trafalgar, it would have been greater and with less loss of life on our side had musketeers been employed in the same way as the French and Spanish employed them. The men on the upper deck of the _Victory_ were shot down by these snipers without having an equal chance of retaliating. The _Redoubtable's_ mizzen-top was full of sharpshooters when the two ships fell alongside of each other, but only two were left there when Nelson was shot and dropped on his left side on the deck a foot or two from Captain Hardy. The Frenchman who shot him was killed himself by a shot fired from the _Victory's_ deck, which knocked his head to pieces. His comrade was also shot dead while trying to escape down the rigging, and fell on the _Redoubtable's_ poop. The other sharpshooters had been previously killed by the musketry from the _Victory's_ deck. Nelson told Hardy, when he expressed the hope that he was not seriously hurt, that "they had done for him at last, and that he felt his backbone was broken." He was hit on the left shoulder; the ball had pierced his left lung. The snipers from the tops of the other enemy ships killed a large number of the _Victory's_ officers and men who were on deck. The French made an attempt to board, but were thrown back in confusion and with tremendous loss. The instinct of domination and the unconquerable combativeness of our race is always more fiercely courageous when pressed to a point which causes others to take to their heels or surrender. It was not an exaggeration on the part of the French and Spanish to declare that the British sailors and soldiers were not ordinary men but devils, when the real tussle for mastery began, and when they were even believed to be beaten. The French and Spanish conclusions were right then, and the ruthless Germans, stained with unspeakable crimes, should know they are right now, for they have had many chances in recent days of realizing the power of the recuperating spirit they are up against, just at a time when they have become imbued with the idea that they have beaten our forces on land and destroyed our ships and murdered their crews at sea. The Kaiser and his advisers, military and naval, have made the German people pay dearly for the experiment of stopping our supplies by sea, for the loss of life by the sinking of their own submarines must have been enormous. But only those to whom they belong will ever know that they have not returned, and that they must have been sent to the bottom of the sea. We can only judge by written records and authoritative paintings or prints of the period what the naval battles of the beginning of the last century were like. But it is only those who have studied minutely the naval battles of St. Vincent, the Nile, Copenhagen, and Trafalgar who can depict the awful character and thrilling nature of these ocean conflicts. While the author was serving as an apprentice aboard a sailing vessel during the Prussian-Danish war in 1864 a dense fog came on, and continued the whole of one night. When it cleared up the next forenoon we found that the vessel had been sailed right into the centre of the Danish fleet, which had defeated the Prussians and Austrians off Heligoland. There were other merchantmen there, and the cheering as we passed each of the Danish warships was hearty and long, while they gracefully acknowledged by saluting with their flags. I am quite sure there were few British seamen who would not have gladly volunteered to serve in the Danish navy against the Prussians, so universal was their bitter dislike to the Hun bullies who had set themselves to steal by force the possessions to which they had not an atom of right. The sight of these fine frigates and line-of-battle ships manoeuvring to come to grips with their cowardly antagonists who were assailing their national rights has been revivified during a long course of study of Nelson's naval warfare, and makes the awful vision of Trafalgar appear as it really was, and makes me wish that I were gifted with the art of words so that I might describe it in all its gruesome wreckage and magnitude, as the recollection of the majestic sight of the Danish ships before they even went into action makes it appear to me. My mind's eye pictures one after another of the French and Spanish ships surrendering, the hurricane of cheers that followed their defeat, and the pathetic anxiety of the dying chieftain for the safety of Captain Hardy, who was now in charge of the flagship acting as commander-in-chief. Hardy is long in coming; he fears that he may be killed, and calls out, "Will no one bring Hardy to me?" At last the gallant captain sees an opportunity of leaving the deck, for the _Victory_ is shielded by two ships from the enemy's gunfire. "Well, Hardy," says Nelson to him, "how goes the battle?" "Very well, my Lord," says Hardy; "fourteen or fifteen of the enemy's ships are in our possession." "That is well," said Nelson, "but I bargained for twenty"; and then followed the memorable order, "Anchor, Hardy, anchor." "If I live," he says, "we will anchor"; and in answer to Hardy's supposition that Collingwood should take charge, he impulsively resents the suggestion and expresses the hope that this will not happen while he lives, and urges again on Hardy that the fleet may be anchored, and asks him to make the signal. He hopes that none of our ships have struck, and his devoted friend reassures him that none have and never will. He commissions Hardy to give "dear Lady Hamilton his hair and other belongings," and asks that his "body shall not be thrown overboard." Hardy is then asked in childlike simplicity to kiss him, and the rough, fearless captain with deep emotion kneels and reverently kisses Nelson on the cheek. He then thanks God that he has done his duty, and makes the solemn thoughts that are troubling his last moments manifest in words by informing Doctor Scott, with a vital sailorly turn of speech, that "he had _not_ been a _great_ sinner," and then bids him remember that he leaves Lady Hamilton and his daughter Horatia as a legacy to his country, and that Horatia is never to be forgotten. Even at this distance of time one cannot help regretting that nature's power did not sustain him to see the total debacle of the enemy fleets. He knew that he had triumphed, and that his task had ended fatally to himself, but his sufferings did not prevent his spirit sallying to and fro, making him feel the joy of living and wish that he might linger but a little longer. He was struck down at a critical stage of the battle, though there was never any doubt as to how it would end, thanks to the adroit skill and bravery of Collingwood and those who served under him. It is a happy thought to know that our hero, even when the shadows were closing round him, had the pleasure of hearing from the lips of the faithful Hardy that fifteen of the enemy ships had struck and not one of ours had lowered a flag. But how much more gladsome would the passing have been had he lived to know that the battle had ended with the capture of nine French vessels and ten Spanish, nineteen in all. He died at 4.30 p.m. on the 21st October, 1805, just when the battle was flickering to an end. Villeneuve had given himself up, and was a prisoner on board the _Mars_. Dumanoir had bolted with four of the line, after committing a decidedly cowardly act by firing into the captured Spanish ships, the object being to put them out of the possession of the British. They could not succeed in this without killing large numbers of their allies, and this was all they were successful in doing. It was a cruel, clumsy crime, which the Spanish rightly resented but never succeeded in avenging. Meanwhile the Spanish Admiral Gravina, who had lost an arm, took command of the dilapidated combined fleets, and fled into Cadiz with five French and five Spanish ships, and by 5 p.m. the thundering of the guns had ceased, and the sea all round was a scene of death, dismasted ships, and awful wreckage. The Rear-Admiral Dumanoir was sailing gaily towards the refuge of Rochefort or Ferrol when he came into view of, and ultimately had to fight on the 4th November, a squadron under Sir Richard Strachan. Dumanoir and his men are said to have fought with great fierceness, but his ships were beaten, captured, and taken in a battered condition, and subsequently sent to England, so that now twenty-three out of the thirty-three that came out of Cadiz with all the swagger of confidence and superiority to match themselves against Nelson and his fiery coadjutors were tragically accounted for. Collingwood was now the commander-in-chief of the British fleet, and to him fell the task of notifying the victory. I insert the documents in full. LONDON GAZETTE EXTRAORDINARY. ADMIRALTY OFFICE, _6th November, 1805._ Despatches, of which the following are copies, were received at the Admiralty this day, at one o'clock a.m. from Vice-Admiral Collingwood, Commander-in-Chief of his Majesty's ships and vessels off Cadiz. "EURYALUS", OFF CAPE TRAFALGAR, _October 22, 1805._ SIR,--The ever-to-be-lamented death of Vice-Admiral Lord Viscount Nelson, who, in the late conflict with the enemy, fell in the hour of victory, leaves me the duty of informing my lords commissioners of the Admiralty, that on the 19th instant, it was communicated to the Commander-in-Chief, from the ships watching the motions of the enemy in Cadiz, that the combined fleet had put to sea. As they sailed with light winds westerly, his Lordship concluded their destination was the Mediterranean, and immediately made all sail for the Straits' entrance, with the British squadron, consisting of twenty-seven ships, three of them sixty-fours, where his Lordship was informed, by Captain Blackwood (whose vigilance in watching and giving notice of the enemy's movements has been highly meritorious), that they had not yet passed the Straits. On Monday, the 21st instant, at daylight, when Cape Trafalgar bore E. by S. about seven leagues, the enemy was discovered six or seven miles to the eastward, the wind about west, and very light; the Commander-in-Chief immediately made the signal for the fleet to bear up in two columns, as they are formed in the order of sailing; a mode of attack his Lordship had previously directed, to avoid the delay and inconvenience in forming a line of battle in the usual manner. The enemy's line consisted of thirty-three ships (of which eighteen were French and fifteen Spanish, commanded in chief by Admiral Villeneuve, the Spaniards under the direction of Gravina), bore with their heads to the northwards and formed their line of battle with great closeness and correctness. But as the mode of attack was unusual, so the structure of their line was new; it formed a crescent convexing to leeward; so that in leading down to their centre I had both their van and rear abaft the beam before the fire opened; every alternate ship was about a cable's length to windward of her second ahead and astern, forming a kind of double line, and appeared, when on their beam, to leave a very little interval between them, and this without crowding their ships. Admiral Villeneuve was in the _Bucentaure_ in the centre, and the _Prince of Asturias_ bore Gravina's flag in the rear, but the French and Spanish ships were mixed without any apparent regard to order of national squadron. As the mode of our attack had been previously determined upon, and communicated to the flag officers and captains, few signals were necessary, and none were made except to direct close order as the lines bore down. The Commander-in-Chief in the _Victory_ led the weather column, and the _Royal Sovereign_, which bore my flag, the lee. The action began at twelve o'clock by the leading ships of the column breaking through the enemy's line; the Commander-in-Chief about the tenth ship from the van; the second-in-command about the twelfth from the rear, leaving the van of the enemy unoccupied; the succeeding ships breaking through in all parts, astern of their leaders, and engaging the enemy at the muzzles of their guns. The conflict was severe; the enemy's ships were fought with a gallantry highly honourable to their officers; but the attack on them was irresistible, and it pleased the Almighty Disposer of all events to grant his Majesty's arms a complete and glorious victory. About three p.m., many of the enemy's ships having struck their colours, their line gave way; Admiral Gravina, with ten ships joining their frigates to leewards, stood towards Cadiz. The five headmost ships of their van tacked, and standing to the southward, to windward of the British line, were engaged, and the sternmost of them taken; the others went off, leaving to his Majesty's squadron nineteen ships of the line (of which two are first-rates, the _Santissima Trinidad_, and the _Santa Anna_), with three flag officers, viz. Admiral Villeneuve, the Commander-in-Chief; Don Ignacio Maria D'Alava, Vice-Admiral; and the Spanish Rear-Admiral Don Baltazar Hidalgo Cisneros. After such a victory it may appear unnecessary to enter into encomiums on the particular parts taken by the several commanders; the conclusion says more than I have language to express; the spirit which animated all was the same; when all exert themselves zealously in their country's service, all deserve that their high merits should stand recorded; and never was high merit more conspicuous than in the battle I have described. The _Achille_, a French seventy-four, after having surrendered, by some mismanagement of the Frenchmen, took fire and blew up; two hundred of her men were saved by the tenders. A circumstance occurred during the action, which so strongly marks the invincible spirit of British seamen, when engaging the enemies of their country, that I cannot resist the pleasure I have in making known to their Lordships: the _Téméraire_ was boarded, by accident or design, by a French ship on one side, and a Spaniard on the other; the contest was vigorous; but in the end the combined ensigns were torn from the poop, and the British hoisted in their places.[15] Such a battle could not be fought without sustaining a great loss of men. I have not only to lament in common with the British Navy and the British nation in the fall of the Commander-in-Chief, the loss of a hero whose name will be immortal, and his memory ever dear to his country; but my heart is rent with the most poignant grief for the death of a friend, to whom, by many years of intimacy, and a perfect knowledge of the virtues of his mind, which inspired ideas superior to the common race of men, I was bound by the strongest ties of affection; a grief to which even the glorious occasion in which he fell does not bring the consolation which perhaps it ought. His Lordship received a musket ball in his left breast, about the middle of the action, and sent an officer to me immediately, with his last farewell, and soon after expired. I have also to lament the loss of those excellent officers, Captain Duff of the _Mars_, and Cooke of the _Bellerophon_; I have yet heard of none others. I fear the numbers that have fallen will be found very great when the returns come to me; but it having blown a gale of wind ever since the action, I have not yet had it in my power to collect any reports from the ships. The _Royal Sovereign_ having lost her masts, except the tottering foremast, I called the _Euryalus_ to me, while the action continued, which ship, lying within hail, made my signals, a service which Captain Blackwood performed with very great attention. After the action I shifted my flag to her, so that I might the more easily communicate my orders to, and collect the ships, and towed the _Royal Sovereign_ out to seaward. The whole fleet were now in a very perilous situation; many dismasted; all shattered; in thirteen fathom water off the shoals of Trafalgar; and when I made the signal to anchor, few of the ships had an anchor to let go, their cables being shot. But the same good Providence which aided us through such a day preserved us in the night, by the wind shifting a few points, and drifting the ships off the land, except four of the captured dismasted ships, which are now at anchor off Trafalgar, and I hope will ride safe until these gales are over. Having thus detailed the proceedings of the fleet on this occasion, I beg to congratulate their Lordships on a victory, which I hope will add a ray to the glory of his Majesty's crown, and be attended with public benefit to our country. I am, etc., (_Signed_) C. COLLINGWOOD. William Marsden, Esq. GENERAL ORDER. "EURYALUS", _October 22, 1805._ The ever-to-be-lamented death of Lord Viscount Nelson, Duke of Bronte, the Commander-in-Chief, who fell in the action of the 21st, in the arms of Victory, covered with glory, whose memory will ever be dear to the British Navy and the British nation, whose zeal for the honour of his King, and for the interest of his country will be ever held up as a shining example for a British seaman, leave to me a duty to return my thanks to the Right Honourable Rear-Admiral, the captains, officers, seamen, and detachments of Royal Marines, serving on his Majesty's squadron now under my command, for their conduct on that day. But where can I find language to express my sentiments of the valour and skill which were displayed by the officers, the seamen, and marines, in the battle with the enemy, where every individual appeared a hero, on whom the glory of his country depended! The attack was irresistible, and the issue of it adds to the page of naval annals a brilliant instance of what Britons can do, when their King and country need their service. To the Right Honourable Rear-Admiral the Earl of Northesk, to the captains, officers, and seamen, and to the officers, non-commissioned officers, and privates of the Royal Marines, I beg to give my sincere and hearty thanks for their highly meritorious conduct, both in the action and in their zeal and activity in bringing the captured ships out from the perilous situation in which they were, after their surrender, among the shoals of Trafalgar in boisterous weather. And I desire that the respective captains will be pleased to communicate to the officers, seamen, and Royal Marines, this public testimony of my high approbation of their conduct, and my thanks for it. (_Signed_) C. COLLINGWOOD. To the Right Honourable Rear-Admiral the Earl of Northesk, and the respective Captains and Commanders. GENERAL ORDER. The Almighty God, whose arm is strength, having of his great mercy been pleased to crown the exertions of his Majesty's fleet with success, in giving them a complete victory over their enemies, on the 21st of this month; and that all praise and thanksgiving may be offered up to the throne of grace, for the great benefit to our country and to mankind, I have thought it proper that a day should be appointed of general humiliation before God, and thanksgiving for his merciful goodness, imploring forgiveness of sins, a continuation of his divine mercy, and his constant aid to us, in defence of our country's liberties and laws, and without which the utmost efforts of man are nought; and therefore that [blank] be appointed for this holy purpose. Given on board the "Euryalus," off Cape Trafalgar, October 22, 1805. (_Signed_) C. COLLINGWOOD To the respective Captains and Commanders. N.B.--The fleet having been dispersed by a gale of wind, no day has yet been able to be appointed for the above purpose. Against the desire of his dead comrade, Collingwood carried into practice his own sound and masterful judgment not to anchor either his conquests or any of his own vessels on a lee ironbound shore. Even had his ground tackle been sound and intact, which it was not, and the holding ground good instead of bad, he acted in a seamanlike manner by holding steadfastly to the sound sailor tradition always to keep the gate open for drift, to avoid being caught, and never to anchor on a lee shore; and if perchance you get trapped, as hundreds have been, get out of it quickly, if you can, before a gale comes on. But in no case is it good seamanship to anchor. There is always a better chance of saving both the ship and lives by driving ashore in the square effort to beat off rather than by anchoring. The cables, more often than not, part, and if they do, the ship is doomed, and so may lives be. Hundreds of sailing vessels were saved in other days by the skill of their commanders in carrying out a plan, long since forgotten, called clubhauling off a lee shore. Few sailors living to-day will know the phrase, or how to apply it to advantage. It was a simple method, requiring ability, of helping the vessel to tack when the wind and sea made it impossible in the ordinary way. A large kedge with a warp bent on was let go on either the port or starboard quarter at an opportune moment to make sure the vessel would cant the right way, and then the warp was cut with an axe. In the writer's opinion, it would have been just as unwise to anchor at Trafalgar after the battle, in view of the weather and all circumstances, as it would be to anchor on the Yorkshire or any part of the North-East Coast when an easterly gale is blowing. But apart from the folly of it, there were none of the ships that had ground tackle left that was fit to hold a cat. Without a doubt, Nelson's mind was distracted and suffering when he gave Hardy the order to anchor. The shadows were hovering too thickly round him at the time for him to concentrate any sound judgment. Some writers have condemned Collingwood for not carrying out the dying request of his Commander-in-Chief. It was a good thing that the command of the fleet fell into the hands of a man who had knowledge and a mind unimpaired to carry out his fixed opinions. When Hardy conveyed Nelson's message, he replied, "That is the very last thing that I would have thought of doing," and he was right. Had Nelson come out of the battle unscathed, he would assuredly have acted as Collingwood did, and as any well-trained and soundly-balanced sailor would have done. Besides, he always made a point of consulting "Coll," as he called him, on great essential matters. If it had been summer-time and calm, or the wind off the land, and the glass indicating a continuance of fine weather, and provided the vessels' cables had been sound, it might have paid to risk a change of wind and weather in order to refit with greater expedition and save the prizes, but certainly not in the month of October in that locality, where the changes are sudden and severe. Collingwood acted like a sound hardheaded man of affairs in salving all he could and destroying those he could not without risk of greater disaster. Collingwood's account of his difficulties after the battle was won is contained in the following letter to his father-in-law:-- "QUEEN," _2nd November, 1805._ MY DEAR SIR,--I wrote to my dear Sarah a few lines when I sent my first dispatches to the Admiralty, which account I hope will satisfy the good people of England, for there never was, since England had a fleet, such a combat. In three hours the combined fleet were annihilated, upon their own shores, at the entrance of their port, amongst their own rocks. It has been a very difficult thing to collect an account of our success, but by the best I have twenty-three sail of the line surrendered to us, out of which three, in the furious gale we had afterward, being driven to the entrance of the harbour of Cadiz, received assistance and got in; these were the _Santa Anna_, the _Algeziras_, and _Neptune_ (the last since sunk and lost); the _Santa Anna's_ side was battered in. The three we have sent to Gibraltar are the _San Ildefonso_, _San Juan Nepomuceno_, and _Swiftsure_; seventeen others we have burnt, sunk, and run on shore, but the _Bahama_ I have yet hope of saving; she is gone to Gibraltar. Those ships which effected their escape into Cadiz are quite wrecks; some have lost their masts since they got in, and they have not a spar or a store to refit them. We took four admirals--Villeneuve the commander-in-chief, Vice-Admiral D'Alava, Rear-Admiral Cisneros, Spanish, and Magon, the French admiral, who was killed--besides a great number of brigadiers (commanders). D'Alava, wounded, was driven into Cadiz in the _Santa Anna_; Gravina, who was not taken, has lost his arm (amputated I have heard, but not from him); of men, their loss is many thousands, for I reckon in the captured ships we took twenty thousand prisoners (including the troops). This was a victory to be proud of; but in the loss of my excellent friend, Lord Nelson, and a number of brave men, we paid dear for it; when my dear friend received his wound, he immediately sent an officer to me to tell me of it, and give his love to me. Though the officer was directed to say the wound was not dangerous, I read in his countenance what I had to fear; and before the action was over Captain Hardy came to inform me of his death. I cannot tell you how deeply I was affected, for my friendship for him was unlike anything that I have left in the Navy, a brotherhood of more than thirty years; in this affair he did nothing without my counsel; we made our line of battle together, and concerted the mode of attack, which was put into execution in the most admirable style. I shall grow very tired of the sea soon; my health has suffered so much from the anxious state I have been in, and the fatigue I have undergone, that I shall be unfit for service. The severe gales which immediately followed the day of victory ruined our prospect of prizes; our own infirm ships could scarce keep off the shore; the prizes were left to their fate, and as they were driven very near the port, I ordered them to be destroyed by burning and sinking, that there might be no risk of their falling again into the hands of the enemy. There has been a great destruction of them, indeed I hardly know what, but not less than seventeen or eighteen, the total ruin of the combined fleet. To alleviate the miseries of the wounded, as much as in my power, I sent a flag to the Marquis Solano, to offer him his wounded. Nothing can exceed the gratitude expressed by him, for this act of humanity; all this part of Spain is in an uproar of praise and thankfulness to the English. Solano sent me a present of a cask of wine, and we have a free intercourse with the shore. Judge of the footing we are on, when I tell you he offered me his hospitals, and pledged the Spanish honour for the care and cure of our wounded men. Our officers and men, who were wrecked in some of the prize ships, were received like divinities; all the country was on the beach to receive them; the priests and women distributing wine, and bread and fruit among them; the soldiers turned out of their barracks to make lodging for them, whilst their allies, the French, were left to shift for themselves, with a guard over them to prevent their doing mischief. After the battle I shifted my flag to the _Euryalus_ frigate, that I might the better distribute my orders; and when the ships were destroyed and the squadron in safety, I came here, my own ship being totally disabled; she lost her last mast in the gale. All the northern boys, and Graydon, are alive; Kennicott has a dangerous wound in his shoulder; Thompson is wounded in the arm, and just at the conclusion of the action his leg was broken by a splinter; little Charles is unhurt, but we have lost a good many youngsters. For myself, I am in so forlorn a state, my servants killed, my luggage, what is left, is on board the _Sovereign_, and Clavell[16] wounded. I have appointed Sir Peter Parker's[17] grandson, and Captain Thomas, my old lieutenant, post captains; Clavell, and the first lieutenant of the _Victory_, made commanders; but I hope the Admiralty will do more for them, for in the history of our Navy there is no instance of a victory so complete and so great. The ships that escaped into Cadiz are wrecks; and they have neither stores nor inclination to refit them. I shall now go, as soon as I get a sufficient squadron equipped, and see what I can do with the Carthagenians; if I can get at them, the naval war will be finished in this country. Prize-money I shall get little or none for this business, for though the loss of the enemy may be estimated at near four millions, it is most of it gone to the bottom. Don Argemoso, who was formerly captain of the _Isedro_, commanded the _Monarca_, one of our captures; he sent to inform me he was in the _Leviathan_, and I immediately ordered, for our old acquaintance sake, his liberty on parole. All the Spaniards speak of us in terms of adoration; and Villeneuve, whom I had in the frigate, acknowledges that they cannot contend with us at sea. I do not know what will be thought of it in England, but the effect here is highly advantageous to the British name. Kind remembrances to all my friends; I dare say your neighbour, Mr.---- will be delighted with the history of the battle; if he had been in it, it would have animated him more than all his daughter's chemistry; it would have new strung his nerves, and made him young again. God bless you, my dear sir, may you be ever happy; it is very long since I heard from home. I am, ever, your most truly affectionate, CUTHBERT COLLINGWOOD. I have ordered all the boys to be discharged into this ship; another such fight will season them pretty well. Brown is in perfect health. We had forty-seven killed, ninety-four wounded. Great efforts were made to get all the people out of the disabled vessels before they drifted ashore. It is really splendid to read the official account of the deeds of bravery of our fine fellows risking their own lives to save the lives of those they had defeated. Seven days after the battle, the _Victory_ arrived at Gibraltar, and although her masts had been shot away and her hull badly damaged, she was refitted and sailed for England on the 4th November, the same day that the straggling Dumanoir and his ships fell into the hands of Sir Richard Strachan in the Bay of Biscay. XIV On the _Victory's_ arrival at Spithead with Nelson's remains aboard, preserved in spirits, the body was taken out and put in a leaden coffin filled with brandy and other strong preservatives. On the arrival of the _Victory_ at the entrance of the Thames, the body was removed, dressed in the Admiral's uniform, and put into the coffin made out of the mainmast of _L'Orient_ and presented to Nelson some years before by Captain Hallowell. It was then put into a third case, and on the 9th January, 1806, after lying in state for three days, the remains were buried in St. Paul's. The imposing demonstrations of sorrow could not be excelled. Parliament voted a monument in St. Paul's Cathedral, and others were erected in all the principal towns in England and Scotland. There were neither material honours nor eulogies great enough to express the gratitude that was felt throughout the United Kingdom for the late Admiral's achievements. His widow, whom he had not seen for years, and from whom he was definitely parted, was granted £2,000 per annum for life. His brother was made an Earl, with a perpetual income of £6,000 a year, and £15,000 of national money was voted to each of the sisters, while £100,000 was given for an estate to be attached to the title. The human legacy left by Nelson of Emma Hamilton and their daughter Horatia were not mentioned, though he seems to have implored Heaven and earth in their behalf. Obviously, the Government felt that they dare not be generous to everybody, even though it were Nelson's dying injunction. Collingwood, who had as much to do with the triumph of Trafalgar as Nelson himself, without making any ado about it, was treated pretty much like a provincial mayor. The mayor, of course, may and often does adopt a luxurious Roman style of living in order that his local deeds may not escape observation, but such self-advertisement was entirely foreign to Collingwood's character. It was fitting that every reasonable honour should have been paid to the memory of a great Englishman, whose deeds, in co-operation with others, have never been surpassed. But to make grants and give honours of so generous a character to Nelson's relatives, and especially to his wife, who had been a torment to him, and to measure out Collingwood's equally great accomplishments with so mean a hand, is an astonishing example of parsimony which, for the sake of our national honour, it is to be hoped rarely occurs. Even the haughty, plethoric nobles of a fourth-rate town council (if it be not a libel to mention them in connection with so discreditable an affair) would have judged the manifest fitness of things better than to make any distinction between Admiral Collingwood and his lifelong friend Nelson. Surely this famous and eminently worthy public servant was as deserving of an Earldom as was Nelson's brother, and his wife and daughters of a more generous allowance than that of his dead chief's widow and sisters!--this distinguished man, who helped to plan the order of battle at Trafalgar and was the first to take his ship into action in a way that inflamed the pride and admiration of the Commander-in-Chief, and made him spontaneously exclaim, "See, Blackwood, how that noble fellow Collingwood takes his ship into battle! How I envy him!" No one knew as well as Nelson that his comrade, next to himself, was to play the leading part in not only assuring a victory, but in completely annihilating the French and Spanish fleets. Yet the British Government of that day only counted the services he had rendered to the nation worthy of a peerage, plus the same pension as Nelson's widow; i.e. he was to have a pension of £2,000 a year, and after his death Lady Collingwood was to have the munificent sum of £1,000 per annum and each of his two daughters £500 a year. He never drew his pension, as they kept him in the service he had made so great until he was a physical wreck. He died on his way home aboard the _Ville de Paris_ on the 7th March, 1810, and was laid to rest in St. Paul's Cathedral alongside of his distinguished friend Lord Nelson. I have already drawn attention to Nelson's blind prejudice to and hatred of the French. Collingwood was tainted with the same one-sided views, but tempered them with more conventional language. In his letters to Lady Collingwood he expresses delight at receiving a letter written to him in French by his daughter, and exhorts the mother to see that she converses when she can in that language, and to remember that she is never to admire anything French but the language. On another occasion he enjoins his daughter Sarah to write every day a translation of English into French, so that the language may soon become familiar to her; and then, as though he regarded these instructions as unpatriotic, he qualifies them by reminding her "that it is the only thing French that she needs to acquire, because there is little else in connection with that country which he would wish her to love or imitate." A kinsman of his, after the battle of Trafalgar, wrote to inform him that his family were descended from, and allied to, many great families, Talebois amongst the rest. He brushed the intended compliment aside, and in his quaint manner remarked that "he had never troubled to search out his genealogy but all he could say was, that if he got hold of the French fleet, he would either be a Viscount or nothing." This is one of the very rare symptoms of vaunting that he ever gave way to; and though his dislike of the French was as inherent as Nelson's, he never allowed his chivalrous nature to be overruled by passion. In a letter to Lord Radstock in 1806 he closes it by paying a high tribute to the unfortunate French Admiral Villeneuve by stating "that he was a well-bred man, and a good officer, who had nothing of the offensive vapourings and boastings in his manner which were, perhaps, too commonly attributed to the Frenchmen." Collingwood was a man of high ideals with a deeply religious fervour, never sinning and then repenting as Nelson was habitually doing. Physical punishment of his men was abhorrent to him, and although he enforced stern discipline on his crew, they worshipped him. "I cannot understand," he said, "the religion of an officer who can pray all one day and flog his men all the next." His method was to create a feeling of honour amongst his men, and he did this with unfailing success, without adopting the harsh law of the land made by English aristocrats. In a letter to his wife, dated September, 1806, Collingwood informs her that the Queen of Naples expected to be put on the throne of Naples again and had intimated the desire of showing her gratitude to himself by creating him a Sicilian Duke and giving him an estate. "If a Dukedom is offered to me," he tells her, "I shall return my thanks for the honour they wish to confer upon me, and show my estimate of it by telling them that I am the servant of my sovereign alone, and can receive no rewards from a foreign prince." Napoleon denounced Marie Caroline, Queen of Naples, as "a wicked shameless woman, who had violated all that men held most sacred." She had ceased to reign, and by her crimes she had fulfilled her destiny. Collingwood, who knew her public and private character to be notoriously untrustworthy and loose, looked upon the proposed honour from such a person as an affront, and refused to accept it if offered. Nelson, on the other hand, who had a passion for window-dressing and flattery, accepted with a flowing heart both a Dukedom and an estate from their Sicilian Majesties. His close intimacy with the Royal Family, and especially with the Queen, was a perpetual anxiety to his loyal and devoted friends. There were no two men in the Service who had such an affectionate regard for each other as Nelson and the amiable Northumbrian Admiral, and certainly none equalled them in their profession or in their devotion to their King and country. Each was different from the other in temperament and character, but both were alike in superb heroism--the one, egotistically untamed, revelling at intervals in lightning flashes of eternal vengeance on the French fleet when the good fortune of meeting them should come; and the other, with calm reticence elaborating his plans and waiting patiently for his chance to take part in the challenge that was to decide the dominion of the sea. Each, in fact, rivalled in being a spirit to the other. Nelson believed, and frequently said, that he "wished to appear as a godsend"; while Collingwood, in more humble and piercing phrase, remarked that "while it is England, let me keep my place in the forefront of the battle." The sound of the names of these two remarkable men is like an echo from other far-off days. Both believed that God was on their side. Neither of them knew the character or purpose of the exalted man on whom their Government was making war. Like simple-minded, brave sailors as they were, knowing nothing of the mysteries of political jealousies and intrigue, and believing that the men constituting the Government must be of high mental and administrative ability, they assumed that they were carrying out a flawless patriotic duty, never doubting the wisdom of it; and it was well for England that they did not. Men always fight better when they know and believe their cause is just. Collingwood, like most of his class, gave little thought to money matters. He had "no ambition," he says, "to possess riches," but he had to being recognized in a proper way. He wished the succession of his title to be conferred on his daughters, as he had no son. This was a modest and very natural desire, considering what the nation owed to him, but it was not granted, and the shame of it can never be redeemed. In one of his letters to Mr. Blackett he says to him, "I was exceedingly displeased at some of the language held in the House of Commons on the settlement of the pension upon my daughters; it was not of my asking, and if I had a favour to ask, money would be the last thing I would beg from an impoverished country. I am not a Jew, whose god is gold; nor a Swiss, whose services are to be counted against so much money. I have motives for my conduct which I would not give in exchange for a hundred pensions." These lines speak eloquently of the high order of this illustrious man. He despises money, but claims it as his right to have proper recognition of his services, which the Government should have given him generously and with both hands. In so many words he says, "Keep your money, I am not to be bought, but confer on me if you will some suitable token that will convince me that you do really, in the name of the nation, appreciate what I have done for it." Services such as he had rendered could never have been adequately rewarded by either money or honours, no matter how high in degree. In the affairs of money these two great Admirals were pretty similar, except that Collingwood knew better how to spend it than Nelson. Both were generous, though the former had method and money sense, while the latter does not appear to have had either. He was accustomed to say "that the want of fortune was a crime which he could never get over." Both in temperament and education Collingwood was superior to Nelson. The former knew that he had done and was capable of doing great deeds, but he would never condescend to seek for an honour reward; while Nelson, who also knew when he had distinguished himself in the national interest, expected to be rewarded, and on occasions when it was too tardily withheld, he became peevish, whimpered a good deal about his illtreatment, and on more than one occasion showed unbecoming rage at being neglected. After Copenhagen, the wigs were fairly on the green because he was created a Viscount instead of an Earl. He talked a good deal about the Tower, a Dukedom, or Westminster Abbey, and had ways of demanding attention for which Collingwood had neither the aptitude nor the inclination, though his naval qualities were quite equal to Nelson's. But with all their faults and virtues, there was never any petty jealousy between the two heroes, who lie at rest side by side in the tombs at St. Paul's. Faithful to their naval orthodoxy that it was incumbent for every Christian sailor-man to wash clean his conscience when he was passing from time into eternity, Nelson on the 21st October, 1805, and Collingwood five years later, avowed to those who had the honour of closing their eyes for evermore that they "had not been great sinners," and then slipped into eternal sleep; each of them leaving behind a name that will live and descend into distant ages. We left Villeneuve, the unfortunate but distinctly brave French Commander-in-Chief of the allied fleet at Trafalgar, aboard the _Mars_. He was subsequently sent a prisoner to England, and after a short stay, he was allowed to go to France, and broke his journey at Rennes on his way to Paris. The poor broken-hearted fellow was found dead in his room, having committed suicide. There is not the remotest foundation for the unworthy report that was spread that he was put to death by Napoleon's orders. The Emperor was much too big a man, occupied with human projects too vast, to waste a moment's thought or to stain his name over an unfortunate admiral who had brought his fleet to grief by acting against his instructions. It is only little men who write, not that which is founded on fact but that which they imagine will appeal to the popular taste of the moment; and so it was with the French Emperor; a lot of scandal-mongers were always at work hawking hither and thither their poisonous fabrications. A great many people get their living by appealing to the lowest passions. Napoleon, when in captivity, referred incidentally to the misfortunes of Villeneuve, and made the following statement to Dr. O'Meara:-- "Villeneuve," said he, "when taken prisoner and brought to England, was so much grieved at his defeat, that he studied anatomy on purpose to destroy himself. For this purpose he bought some anatomical plates of the heart, and compared them with his own body, in order to ascertain the exact situation of that organ. On his arrival in France I ordered that he should remain at Rennes, and not proceed to Paris. Villeneuve, afraid of being tried by a court-martial for disobedience of orders, and consequently losing the fleet, for I had ordered him _not to sail or to engage the English_, determined to destroy himself, and accordingly took his plates of the heart, and compared them with his breast. Exactly in the centre of the plate he made a mark with a large pin, then fixed the pin as near as he could judge in the same spot in his own breast, shoved it in to the head, penetrated his heart and expired. When the room was opened he was found dead; the pin in his breast, and a mark in the plate corresponding with the wound in his breast. He need not have done it," continued he, "as he was a brave man, though possessed of no talent."[18] I have given this communication in full as it appears in O'Meara's book, because the scribes would have it that Villeneuve was destroyed by the Emperor's orders. There was not at the time, nor has there ever appeared since, anything to justify such a calumny on a man who challenged the world to make the charge and prove that he had ever committed a crime during the whole of his public career. No one has taken up the challenge except in sweeping generalities of slander, which are easily made but less easy to substantiate. If the Emperor had really wished to take Villeneuve's life, it would have been more satisfactory to have him condemned to death by a court-martial composed of his countrymen than to have the already ruined man secretly destroyed for mere private revenge. The common sense of the affair compels one to repudiate the idea of the Emperor's complicity in so stupid a crime. It is more likely that Napoleon wished to save him from the consequences of a court-martial, so ordered him to remain at Rennes. He rarely punished offenders according to their offences. After the first flush of anger was over, they were generally let down easily, and for the most part became traitors afterwards. We need not waste time or space in dilating on what would have happened to Nelson had he put at defiance the authority that controlled him and the irreparable disaster that would have followed. Villeneuve has been belauded for his gallantry in the fight at Trafalgar; indeed, we learn, from sources that may be relied upon, that his bravery, dispositions in battle, and art of enthusing his followers could not be surpassed. His signals to the fleet were almost identical with Nelson's. Here is one: "Celui qui ne serait pas dans le feu ne serait pas à son poste"; the literal translation of which is: "He who would not be in the fire would not be at his post"; or, "The man who would hold his post must stand fire," which is quite an inspiring signal. But I wonder what the eulogists of Villeneuve would have written of him had he been the victor instead of the defeated. It is generous to give praise to the unfortunate Admiral for whom Nelson had such an aversion and who was constantly threatened by him with vigorous chastisement when he caught him; but generosity was not the motive--it was only part of the loose-lipped, unclean policy of decrying Napoleon. It is horrible, ungrateful, and foul brutishness of the Corsican tyrant to court-martial so amiable and brave a man as Villeneuve because he proceeded out of Cadiz against orders and suffered a crushing defeat! It is quite permissible for a French admiral to put authority at defiance if doing so complies with the sentiments of anti-Napoleon writers, who were either ill-informed, purblind critics or eaten up with insincerity or moral malaria! But it is the maintenance of discipline to have men like Sir John Byng court-martialled and shot after being tried, it is said, by a not entirely impartial court, on the supposition that he had neglected his duty in an engagement with the French off Minorca on the 20th May, 1756, and committed an error of judgment. A rather remarkable method of enforcing discipline, to shoot an admiral for an error of judgment! Take another case of high-ordered, solemn devotion to discipline: Sir Robert Calder, who had gained an important victory over the French at Finisterre, was court-martialled, condemned and ruined, ostensibly because he did not achieve a greater victory. The decisions of both cases were crimes, not desire for the maintenance of discipline. It was, and ever will be, a stain on the name of justice. I need not carry this further, except to say that according to the solemn logic of some writers, it was murder for Napoleon or some of his ministers to have the Duc d'Enghien shot for having conspired with others for the overthrow of the established French Government, but it is the saintly enforcement of discipline to have a British admiral shot and another ruined for no other reason than an error of judgment on the one hand and an insufficient victory on the other. Sir Robert Calder's heart was broken by cruelty. Villeneuve lost his fleet and killed himself, not that he had anything to fear from the decision of the court-martial--so it is said on the authority of an English writer of note. Certainly he had nothing to fear from the Emperor, who has indicated that he had no intention of dealing severely with him. It was fitting that he should be reprimanded, and no doubt he would have been, after which, as was his custom, the Emperor would have conferred some kindly favour upon him. Serene authors have entangled themselves a good deal over this matter in their efforts to take up the impossible position of making the Emperor and not Villeneuve responsible for the disaster at Trafalgar to the Spanish and French fleet. Of course, Napoleon was badly chagrined, and so would the King of England have been, if it were thinkable that such a calamity could possibly have befallen any British fleet. The head of the French nation would have been less than human had he not felt the full force of the terrific blow to his country, and especially to himself. Disposition of Fleets at TRAFALGAR TRAFALGAR, 21ST OCTOBER, 1805. DETAILED LIST OF SHIPS ENGAGED. (_A_) BRITISH ORDER OF BATTLE, WITH THE NAMES OF THE FLAG OFFICERS AND CAPTAINS. VAN, OR WEATHER COLUMN. Ships. Guns. Commanders. Killed. Wounded. _Victory_ 100 Vice-Ad. Visc. Nelson 51 75 Captain T.M. Hardy _Téméraire_ 98 Eliab Harvey 47 76 _Neptune_ 98 T.F. Freemantle 10 34 _Conqueror_ 74 Israel Pellew 3 9 _Leviathan_ 74 H.W. Bayntun 4 22 _Ajax_ 74 Lieut. J. Pilfold -- 9 _Orion_ 74 Edward Codrington 1 23 _Agamemnon_ 64 Sir Edward Berry 2 7 _Minotaur_ 74 C.J.M. Mansfield 3 22 _Spartiate_ 74 Sir F. Laforey, Bart. 3 20 _Britannia_ 100 Rear-Ad. Earl Northesk 10 42 Captain Charles Bullen _Africa_ 64 Henry Digby 18 44 --- --- 154 383 --- --- FRIGATES. Ships. Guns. Commanders. _Euryalus_ 36 Hon. H. Blackwood _Sirius_ 36 William Prowse _Phoebe_ 36 Hon. T.B. Capel _Naiad_ 38 T. Dundas _Pickle_ 12 Lieut. J.R. Lapenotiere _Intreprenante_ 12 Lieut. R.B. Young (cutter) REAR, OR LEE COLUMN. Ships. Guns. Commanders. Killed. Wounded _Royal Sovereign_ 100 Vice-Ad. Collingwood 47 94 Captain E. Rotherham _Mars_ 74 George Duff 29 69 _Belleisle_ 74 William Hargood 33 93 _Tonnant_ 80 Charles Tyler 26 50 _Bellerophon_ 74 John Cooke 27 133 _Colossus_ 74 J.N. Morris 40 160 _Achille_ 74 Richard King 13 59 _Polyphemus_ 64 Robert Redmill 2 4 _Revenge_ 74 R. Moorsom 28 51 _Swiftsure_ 74 W.G. Rutherford 9 7 _Defence_ 74 George Hope 7 29 _Thunderer_ 74 Lieut. J. Stockham 4 16 _Prince_ 98 Richard Grindall -- -- _Defiance_ 74 P.C. Durham 17 53 _Dreadnought_ 98 John Conn 7 26 --- --- 263 794 --- --- NOTE.--Lieutenants Pilfold and Stockham were acting for Captains W. Brown and Lechmere, absent on Sir R. Calder's trial; the Lieutenants, W.P. Camby, of the _Bellerophon_, and W. Hannah, of the _Mars_, having their Captains killed, the whole of these officers, with Lieutenant Quillam, first of the _Victory_, were made Post immediately. (_B_) A LIST OF THE COMBINED FLEET OF FRANCE AND SPAIN, SHOWING HOW THEY WERE DISPOSED OF. 1. Spanish ship, _San Ildefonso_, 74 guns, Brigadier Don Joseph de Varga, sent to Gibraltar. 2. Spanish ship, _San Juan Nepomuceno_, 74 guns, Brigadier Don Cosme Cherruca, sent to Gibraltar. 3. Spanish ship, _Bahama_, 74 guns. Brigadier Don A.D. Galiano, sent to Gibraltar. 4. French ship, _Swiftsure_, 74 guns, Monsieur Villemadrin, sent to Gibraltar. 5. Spanish ship, _Monarca_, 74 guns, Don Teodoro Argumosa, wrecked off San Lucar. 6. French ship, _Fougeux_, 74 guns, Monsieur Beaudouin, wrecked off Trafalgar, all perished, and 30 of the _Téméraire's_ men. 7. French ship, _Indomitable_, 84 guns, Monsieur Hubart, wrecked off Rota, all perished, said to have had 1,500 men on board. 8. French ship, _Bucentaure_, 80 guns, Admiral Villeneuve, Commander-in-Chief, Captains Prigny and Magendie, wrecked on the Porques, some of the crew saved. 9. Spanish ship, _San Francisco de Asis_, 74 guns, Don Luis de Flores, wrecked near Rota. 10. Spanish ship, _El Rayo_, 100 guns, Brigadier Don Henrique Macdonel, taken by _Donegal_, and wrecked near San Lucar. 11. Spanish ship, _Neptuno_, 84 guns, Brigadier Don Cayetano Valdes, wrecked between Rota and Catalina. 12. French ship, _Argonaute_, 74 guns, Monsieur Epron, on shore in the port of Cadiz. (By subsequent account not lost.) 13. French ship, _Berwick_, 74 guns, Monsieur Camas, wrecked to the northward of San Lucar. 14. French ship, _Aigle_, 74 guns, Monsieur Courage, wrecked near Rota. 15. French ship, _Achille_, 74 guns, Monsieur de Nieuport, burnt during the action. 16. French ship, _Intrepide_, 74 guns, Monsieur Infernet, burnt by the _Britannia_. 17. Spanish ship, _San Augustin_, 74 guns, Brigadier Don Felipe X. Cagigal, burnt by the _Leviathan_. 18. Spanish ship, _Santissima Trinidad_, 140 guns, Rear-Admiral Don Baltazar H. Cisneros, Brigadier Don F. Uriate, sunk by the _Prince_ and _Neptune_. 19. French ship, _Redoubtable_, 74 guns, Monsieur Lucas, sunk astern of the _Swiftsure_; _Téméraire_ lost 13, and _Swiftsure_ 5 men, in her. 20. Spanish ship, _Argonauta_, 80 guns, Don Antonio Parejo, sunk by the _Ajax_. 21. Spanish ship, _Santa Anna_, 112 guns, Vice-Admiral Don Ignacio D'Alava, Captain Don Joseph de Guardequi, taken, but got into Cadiz in the gale, dismasted. 22. French ship, _Algeziras_, 74 guns, Rear-Admiral Magon (killed), Captain Monsieur Bruaro, taken, but got into Cadiz in the gale, dismasted. 23. French ship, _Pluton_, 74 guns. Monsieur Cosmao, returned to Cadiz in a sinking state. 24. Spanish ship, _San Juste_, 74 guns, Don Miguel Caston, returned to Cadiz, has a foremast only. 25. Spanish ship, _San Leandro_, 64 guns, Don Joseph de Quevedo, returned to Cadiz, dismasted. 26. French ship, _Le Neptune_, 84 guns, Monsieur Maistral, returned to Cadiz, perfect. 27. French ship, _Le Heros_, 74 guns, Monsieur Poulain, returned to Cadiz, lower masts standing, hoisted Admiral Rossily's flag. 28. Spanish ship, _Principe de Asturias_, 112 guns, Admiral Gravina, Captain Don Antonio Escano, returned to Cadiz, dismasted. 29. Spanish ship, _Montanez_, Don Francisco Alcedo, returned to Cadiz. 30. French ship. _Formidable_, 80 guns, Rear-Admiral Dumanoir, escaped to the southward, with the three following. 31. French ship, _Montblanc_, 74 guns, Monsieur Villegries. 32. French ship, _Scipion_, 74 guns. Monsieur Berouger. 33. French ship, _Du Guay Trouin_, 74 guns. Monsieur Toufflet. ABSTRACT At Gibraltar 4 Destroyed 15 In Cadiz 10 Escaped 4 -- 33 -- FOOTNOTES: [1] BATTLE OF ABOUKIR. At the battle of Aboukir Bay the British losses were reported to be 896 killed and wounded. Only one captain fell. 5,225 of the French perished, and 3,105, including wounded, were sent on shore. When the battle was over, Nelson gave instructions that thanksgiving aboard every ship should be offered to Almighty God for giving His Majesty's forces the victory. It is the author's opinion that but for a good deal of slashing genius and not a little of the devil on the part of Nelson and his men the French would not have fared so badly. [2] Portraits painted by poor Romney for £40, or less, sell for many thousands at Christie's in these days. [3] Italics are the author's. [4] Italics are the author's. [5] Some authorities speak of Sir William Hamilton as being an amiable, accomplished man, who left on record a letter which reads as follows:--"My study of antiquities has kept me in constant thought of the perpetual fluctuation of everything. The whole art is really to live all the _days_ of our life. Admire the Creator and all His works, to us incomprehensible, and do all the good you can on earth; and take the chance of eternity without dismay." [6] Sir Harris Nicolas is inclined to believe in the purity of Nelson's attachment and Southey says there is no reason to believe that it was more than platonic. But these views are certainly not borne out by those who knew Nelson and his connection with the Hamiltons intimately. [7] The name by which Nelson speaks of her occasionally in his correspondence with Lady Hamilton. His daughter bore this name before his death, but he desired that afterwards she should drop the name of Thompson. [8] "Correspondence and Diaries of John Wilson Croker," vol. ii. p. 233. [9] O'Meara, vol. i. p. 308. [10] O'Meara, "Voice from St. Helena," vol. ii. p. 229. "Talks of Napoleon at St. Helena," Gourgand, p. 118. [11] The body was first seen floating by a Neapolitan fisherman, who reported the matter, but his story was ridiculed. Finally, in order to verify the statement, the principal actors in the shameful tragedy went for a sail in Naples Bay and soon met the body borne along by the swift current as though to meet them. The incident created a profound impression at the time. [12] This girl of twenty-two, who is known to fame and immortality, purchased a dagger, and called on Marat, who was the most infamous arch-butcher of the Reign of Terror. He was in his bath at the time, but this did not prevent her from making her way to him. He wrote down the names of the conspirators she told him of having seen in Normandy, and he told her he would swiftly have them guillotined. The assurance had scarcely left his lips when in an instant she thrust the instrument of death through his heart. She repudiated the stigma of being thought a murderess, and believed that her act would be the means of saving thousands of lives. She was dragged through the streets, taken to the executioner, and asked for the loan of his shears and cut off a lock of her hair. When asked if she found the journey long, she replied with perfect composure, "Oh no, I am not afraid of being too late." Subsequently one of the Girondin deputies said of her, "She has killed us, but she has taught all how to die." [13] TROUBRIDGE'S BLUFF LETTER TO LORD NELSON. "Pardon me, my Lord, it is my sincere esteem for you that makes me mention it. I know you have no pleasure in sitting up all night at cards; why then sacrifice your health, comfort, purse, ease, everything, to the customs of a country where your stay cannot be long? I would not, my Lord, reside in this country for all Sicily. I trust the war will soon be over, and deliver us from a nest of everything that is infamous, and that we may enjoy the smiles of our countrywomen. "Your Lordship is a stranger to half that happens, or the talk it occasions; if you knew what your friends feel for you, I am sure you would cut all the nocturnal parties. Gambling of the people at Palermo is publicly talked of everywhere. I beseech your Lordship leave off. I wish my pen could tell you my feelings, I am sure you would oblige me. "I trust your Lordship will pardon me; it is the sincere esteem I have for you that makes me risk your displeasure." No reply, so far as is known, was ever sent to this outspoken letter. [14] Castlereagh and Canning fought a duel. Canning was wounded by a bullet in the leg, and it prevented Castlereagh from being an unpopular figure. Indeed, he became for a time, in limited circles, popular. Percival was assassinated. Lord Liverpool was Prime Minister for fifteen years, and departed this life insane. Canning was brilliant, witty, and eloquent, and his outlook was large. It was said that he was spoiled by Pitt, and was consumed by vanity, and was broken by Tory calumniation. Political, commercial, or social intrigue success is always followed by the most deadly reaction on those who practise or encourage it, and I trust that a merciful Providence will shield from the tragedies and maladies that came to some members of this former coalition those of the present, which apparently excels every other in its colossal efforts at doing harm. The best brains are needed now, not romancers. [15] Subsequent information has proved this statement wanted confirmation. [16] Captain John Clavell, then first lieutenant of the _Royal Sovereign._ [17] The lamented Sir Peter Parker, Bart., who fell in the _Chesapeake_ in 1814, when captain of the _Menelaus_, leading his men against the Americans. [18] "Napoleon in Exile," vol. i. p. 56. NAPOLEON AND HIS CONNECTION WITH THE WORLD-WAR (1914-1918) NAPOLEON'S FAREWELL FROM THE FRENCH Farewell to the Land, where the gloom of my Glory Arose and o'ershadowed the earth with her name-- She abandons me now--but the page of her story, The brightest or blackest, is fill'd with my fame. I have warred with a world which vanquished me only When the meteor of conquest allured me too far; I have coped with the nations which dread me thus lonely, The last single Captive to millions in war. Farewell to thee, France! when thy diadem crown'd me, I made thee the gem and the wonder of earth, But thy weakness decrees I should leave as I found thee, Decay'd in thy glory, and sunk in thy worth. Oh! for the veteran hearts that were wasted In strife with the storm, when their battles were won-- Then the Eagle, whose gaze in that moment was blasted, Had still soar'd with eyes fixed on victory's sun! Farewell to thee, France!--but when Liberty rallies Once more in thy regions, remember me then,-- The violet still grows in the depths of thy valleys; Though wither'd, thy tears will unfold it again-- Yet, yet, I may baffle the hosts that surround us, And yet may thy heart leap awake to my voice-- There are links which must break in the chain that has bound us, Then turn thee and call on the Chief of thy choice! I Napoleon, when at the height of his fame, was looked upon by the European Powers as a man whose lust of conquest was a terrible menace to all constituted authority. The oligarchies thought themselves bound to combine against him in order to reseat the Bourbons on the throne of France and restore law and order to that distracted country. What a travesty of the actual facts! The people of France had risen against the tyranny and oppression of the French kings and nobles, and out of the welter of the Revolution Napoleon rose to power and, by his magnetic personality, welded the chaotic elements into unity, framed laws which are still in operation, and led his country to wonderful heights of glory. Well may the crowned heads of Europe have feared this man, whose genius put all their mediocre and unenlightened achievements in the shade. Had they been blessed with the same vision as he, they would not have opposed but co-operated with him, by introducing into their own constitutions saner laws such as some of those in the Code Napoleon. But instead of this, they began a campaign of Press vilification, and Napoleon's every act was held up as the deed of a monster of iniquity. Plots, open and secret, to dethrone him were continually in progress, only to be frustrated by the genius of the man of the people. As an instance of this, and of the one-sided view taken by all ranks and classes of Napoleon's opponents, let us contrast two cases which are in some respects parallel. The many plots to assassinate the First Consul--especially the one that very nearly succeeded when he was on his way to the opera--and the knowledge that an organized band of conspirators were in red-hot activity and, headed by the Duc d'Enghien, Cadoudal, Moreau, and Pichegru, were determined to kill the head of the State, overthrow the Government, and re-establish the Bourbon dynasty, caused the Duc to be arrested, tried by his fellow-countrymen, and found guilty of the charges brought against him, and, by the blundering of Savary, afterwards Duke of Rovigo, and the persistence of Murat, the death penalty was carried out and he was shot. Had he been permitted to live another twenty-four hours, Napoleon would unquestionably have pardoned him, though he never doubted the justice of the sentence. Much political capital has been made in this country against Napoleon for even sanctioning his arrest and in not preventing the capital sentence of the court from being carried out.[19] Unquestionably Napoleon regretted the execution, and would have granted a free pardon had some one not blundered or been too zealous in what they conceived to be his and the country's best interests. Almost every writer on this subject is strong in his condemnation of the execution and of Napoleon for not taking surer steps to prevent it. But in judging him in regard to this matter, it is only fair to take into account that he was the ruler of a great empire. Whether he became so by force or not, does not matter; he saved the Revolution, and had already brought some form of order out of bloody chaos. He had already become the popular head of the French nation, and it devolved upon him to take the most minute precautions against the disturbing effects of the secret and avowed conspirators who directed their operations against his life and the overthrow of his government from London. The precautions taken were drastic, skilfully organized, and far-reaching, and his agents kept him advised of the danger that continually beset him. Even though he had no thought of reprieving the Duc, and deliberately allowed him to be shot, the act of self-preservation, extreme though it may appear, can hardly be termed, under the circumstances, unwarranted. It was a period of wild, uncontrollable passion, and the survivors of the old aristocracy hated the man of genius who had risen to power from the ranks of the people to take the place of the Bourbons. This was the canker that stimulated their enmity. Had the Duc d'Enghien kept himself aloof from conspirators, and been willing to recognize the facts he would never have been molested. He took the risk of co-operating with desperate men, and paid the penalty by being shot on the 24th March, 1804, at 6.0 a.m., at Vincennes. Had the ruler of any state in Europe carried out a death-sentence for the same reason and under the same circumstances, it would have been regarded as well-merited punishment, and the Press would have preached the gospel of warning to evil doers. But with Napoleon it was different. He was an interloper who had nothing in common with the galaxy of monarchs who ruled Europe at that time. Subsequently they licked his boots, not for love, but through fear. The shooting of the Duc was a fine opportunity for his enemies. They sedulously nursed the Press, published books and pamphlets in every language, and employed the most poisoned pen that could be bought to portray the future ruler of kings in terms of obloquy. The performance of the scribes who direct the pen, which is said to be mightier than the sword, is enough to kill any one with a real sense of humour. Some of the literary productions which were to send the greatest of living men off the face of the earth are quite grotesque in their feminine, shrill advocacy of force towards the "eater of pigs"; the "Anti-Christ"; and the murderer of a kindly-disposed gentleman who was on an innocent visit to the frontier of France for the purpose of negotiating a few private matters that had no political significance; what if he were one of the leaders of a band of fine, desperate fellows who had combined, and sworn to rid France of the Usurper, even at the risk of death! This being their aim and heroic determination, they had no ground of complaint if the iron hand which ruled the country took measures to prevent them from carrying out their beneficent intentions. Of course, I give the sense and not the actual words of the gallant writers of that time who, with a glare in their lion eye (judging from the style of their vapourings), thought that Napoleon could never survive so vigorous a stream of invective! What loose fabrications have been scattered over the earth about this regrettable incident, and what abominable cant has been sent forth extolling the virtues of men like the unfortunate Duc, who put the law at defiance by secretly carrying out a purpose that he knew was pregnant with danger to himself! Let us contrast, if we can, the Duc d'Enghien's reckless gamble, the consequences of which have been used so consistently to blacken the fame of the Emperor Napoleon, with Nelson's connection with the hanging of the rebel prince Carraciolli; of the latter little has been said, though the shooting of the Duc seems to have been more justifiable than the hanging of the prince, who was an old man. Both were tried and condemned to death by men who, it is said, were prejudiced against them. Nelson could have saved the aged Admiral had his heart been free from revenge and his mind free from the influence of Emma Hamilton. The guilt of the Admiral's death must eternally lie at his door. The outrage can never be effaced, and must for all time be associated with the mean executioners who, to begin with, had naught but vengeance in their minds. Nelson was an Englishman entrusted with England's high sense of honour and love of compassion, and in its name he stained its reputation for fair dealing. On entering the Bay of Naples, a flag of truce was flying at the mast-head of the _Seahorse_ and at the castles of Nuovo and Uovo. The treaty had been ratified by Captain Foote, a high-minded officer.[20] Nelson did not approve of the truce, nor did Lady Hamilton, who was aboard the _Foudroyant_. One can almost see this brazen figure standing on the quarterdeck of this British ship of war calling out to Nelson, "Haul down the flag of truce, Bronte. There must be no truce with rebels." It almost takes one's breath away to think that a man in Nelson's position should have allowed private feelings to enter into and influence his professional duty. Every now and again we get glimpses of this blatant paramour of his being allowed to assert herself in matters which involved the honour of Great Britain. We are anxious to believe that Nelson put some limit to this lady's interference in matters of high naval policy, but he seems to have been such a fool with women that almost anything ridiculous can be believed of him where they were concerned. Both of them figure badly in the Uovo and Nuovo and Carraciolli affair. The garrison there was so vigorously bombarded that it was driven to capitulate, but only on condition that the safety of the garrison would be guaranteed. Captain Foote at once agreed to this, and to see that it was duly carried out. One of the reasons that led Captain Foote so readily to agree to the conditions submitted to him was the extreme strength of the forts, which could have pounded the city to pieces. The other was the desire to spare human life. What need was there for Nelson to take umbrage at and violate the treaty made by Foote in the British name? Foote had made a good bargain by getting possession of the forts, and a better and nobler one in making it part of his policy to save human life. We wonder whether Nelson's anger did not arise from his being deprived of some of the glory himself. He was desperately fond of it! In any case, he let down England's name badly over the whole transaction. Fox made a speech on it in the House of Commons which was, and will ever continue to be, an awful indictment. There is nothing in the French Revolution, or in the whole of Napoleon's career, that can be compared with it for ferocity. Great efforts were made to fix the responsibility for breach of faith on Captain Foote, but they failed, since there was not a vestige of foundation on which a case could be made against him, as the documents conclusively proved. He demanded a court-martial, but his friends prevailed upon him to let his case rest on the conclusive facts which were produced and made public and which have never been questioned. There cannot be found a more astonishing revelation of perfidy or inhuman violence in the archives of Europe than that related by Mr. Fox. Here is an extract from his amazing speech:-- When the right honourable gentleman speaks of the last campaign, he does not mention the horrors by which some of these successes were accompanied; Naples, for instance, has been, among others (what is called) delivered; and yet, if I am rightly informed, it has been stained and polluted by murders so ferocious, and cruelties so abhorrent, that the heart shudders at the recital. It has been said, that not only were the miserable victims of the rage and brutality of the fanatics savagely murdered, but that in many instances their _flesh_ was _devoured_ by the cannibals, who are the advocates, if the rumours which are circulated be true. I will mention a fact to give Ministers the opportunity, if it be false, to wipe away the stain that must otherwise affix on the British name. It is said that a party of the Republican inhabitants at Naples took shelter in the fortress of Castle del Uovo. They were besieged by a detachment from the royal army, to whom they refused to surrender, but demanded that a British officer should be brought forward, and to him they capitulated. They made terms with him under the sanction of the British name. _It was agreed that their persons and property should be safe, and that they should be conveyed to Toulon._ They were accordingly put on board a vessel, but before they sailed, their property was confiscated, numbers of them taken out, _thrown into dungeons_, and some of them, I understand, notwithstanding the British guarantee, _absolutely executed_.[21] This appalling narrative, which was never refuted, is really too horrible to ponder over. It puts in the shade any responsibility Napoleon had for the death of the Duc d'Enghien. It is needless to enlarge on the silly and altogether baseless attacks that were not only allowed to be made, but, we have good grounds for stating, were manufactured by members of the Government and their agents, and circulated for the purpose of distracting the public mind from their own iniquities, and inflaming bitter passions and prejudices by accusing Napoleon of deeds of blood for which he was in no greater degree responsible than were they. The nations were all out for blood at that period (just as they are now), and each claimed a monopoly of all the virtues. "Down, down, with the French is my constant prayer," shouts our greatest hero, and by way of addendum, he announces in Christ-like accents that he hates a Frenchman as he hates the devil. "Down, down, with the British is our constant prayer" shout back the French, who are at present our Allies against another nation who were our Allies against them at that time, showing that Fraternity is decidedly a possible consummation, though it fluctuates from one to another with amazing eccentricity. In the name of this fraternal spirit, we see the great Napoleon surrounded by a hotbed of assassins demanding his life in the name of the Founder of our faith. He was the ruler, as I have said, of a vast Empire, sworn to protect its laws, its dignity, and its citizen rights by defending himself and his country against either treachery, plotters against his life, or open enemies, no matter from what quarter they came. The Duc d'Enghien violated the law, and was therefore as liable to suffer the consequences as any peasant or middle-class person would have been. But this did not meet with the approval of the international oligarchy, so they set up a screaming factory and blared this murderous deed into the minds of all the Western world. These fervent professors of the Christian faith were in no way particular as to the form or authenticity of their declamatory ebullitions. But what of Nelson? He was a subject of his King, employed by the King's Government under certain plenary powers to fight the country's battles, defend its right, uphold its dignity, guard its honour, and commit no violence. That is, in plain English, he was to play the game. But he assumed an authority that no Government of England would have dared to have given him by revoking the word of honour of a distinguished officer who had pledged England's word that the lives of the beleaguered men would be spared. I think the writer of the gospel of "Let brotherly love continue," and the rhetoricians who claim that Britons have no competitors in the science of moral rectitude, will have a hard task to square the unworthy declamations against Napoleon's responsibility in the Duc d'Enghien affair with their silence on Nelson's in breaking the truce already referred to, and the awful consequences set forth in Mr. Fox's speech, which is reminiscent of the powerful disciplinary methods of that manly martinet Ivan the Terrible, who was responsible for the massacre of men by the thousand, flaying of prisoners alive, collecting pyramids of skulls, slaughtering of innocent men, and the free use of other ingenious forms of refined scientific torture which tires the spirit to relate. It is hard to forgive Nelson for having smirched his own and England's name with atrocities so terrible. But more humiliating still to British honour is the fact that his part in the breaking of the treaty was dictated to him from the quarter deck of the _Foudroyant_ by a woman whom my vocabulary is unable to describe in fitting terms. I shall emphasize this masculine female's orders to Nelson by quoting them again. Were it not for the comic impertinence of the order, I think it would almost make me feel the bitterness of death. Nelson seems to have been the victim of her dominating spirit, though the evidence in support of him swallowing the whole dose of medicine is quite feeble. That he swallowed too much of it will always detract from his fame. "Haul down the flag of truce, Bronte. No truce with rebels." Nelson lost a great opportunity of adding romance to his naval glory by neglecting his imperative duty in not putting Sir William Hamilton's wife in irons or having her thrown into the sea. A story of this kind would have sounded better, and its effect would have electrified the world in subsequent days, and have given scope to the talents of actors and authors who are eager for dramatic copy. I think Cardinal Ruffo would have been a supporter of imposing some form of disciplinary restraint on Emma Hamilton. He did strongly insist on the treaty being honourably adhered to, but his view was overruled, and he retired in consequence in bitter indignation. So much for the vaunted fairness and impartiality of our treatment of Napoleon! It is only when we come to study the life of this man that we realize how he towered above all his contemporaries in thought, word, and deed. Napoleon's authentic doings and sayings are wonderful in their vast comprehensiveness and sparkling vision, combined with flawless wisdom. When we speak or think of him, it is generally of his military genius and achievements and of what we term his "gigantic ambition"; and in this latter conclusion the platitudinarians, with an air of originality, languidly affirm that this was the cause of his ruin, the grandeur of which we do not understand. But never a word is said or thought of our own terrible tragedies, nor of the victories we were compelled to buy in order to secure his downfall. His great gifts as a lawgiver and statesman are little known or spoken of. Nelson's views of him were of a rigid, stereotyped character. He only varied in his wild manner of describing him as a loathsome despot, whose sole aim was to make war everywhere and to invade England and annihilate her people. II In the light of what is happening now in the world-war 1914-1917, and the world-wide views expressed about the German Kaiser, it may be interesting to write Pitt's opinion of Napoleon, though they are scarcely to be mentioned in the same breath. The former, who is the creator of the world-tragedy, is a mere shadow in comparison to the great genius of whom Müller, the Swiss historian, says: "Quite impartially and truly, as before God, I must say that the variety of his knowledge, the acuteness of his observations, the solidity of his understanding (not dazzling wit), his grand and comprehensive views, filled me with astonishment, and his manner of speaking to me with love for him. By his genius and his disinterested goodness, he has also conquered me." But I give another authority, Wieland, the German author, who was disillusioned when he had the honour of a conversation with Napoleon on the field of Jena. Amongst the many topics they spoke of was the restoration of public worship in France by Napoleon. In his reply to the German writer as to why religion was not more philosophical and in harmony with the spirit of the times, Napoleon replied, "My dear Wieland, religion is not meant for philosophers! They have no faith either in me or my priests. As to those who do believe, it would be difficult to give them, or leave them too much of the marvellous. If I had to frame a religion for philosophers, it would be just the reverse of that of the credulous part of mankind." Wieland's testimony of Napoleon is quite as appreciative as that of Müller, and coming from him to the great conqueror of his native land makes it an invaluable piece of impartial history which reverses the loose and vindictive libels that were insidiously circulated by a gang of paid scoundrels in order to prejudice public opinion against him. Wieland, among other eulogies of him, says: "I have never beheld any one more calm, more simple, more mild or less ostentatious in appearance; nothing about him indicated the feeling of power in a great monarch." He conversed with him for an hour and a half, "to the great surprise of the whole assembly." Here we have a brief but very high testimony from two men of literary distinction, who had formed their impressions by personal contact. The present writer's belief is that had members of the British Government been guided by reason and sound judgment instead of blind, wicked prejudice; had they accepted overtures made to them from time to time by the head of the French nation during his rule, we should not have been engaged during the last five years in a world-war watering the earth with the blood of our race with reckless extravagance. The great soldier-statesman foretold what would happen. What irony that we should be in deadly conflict with the Power which, as an ally, helped to destroy him and is now engaged in frantic efforts to destroy us! Had Pitt and those who acted with him been endowed with human wisdom, he would not have written the following lines, but would have held out the olive-branch of peace and goodwill to men on earth:-- I see (says Pitt in a scrap of MS. found amongst his papers) various and opposite qualities--all the great and all the little passions unfavourable to public tranquillity united in the breast of one man, and of that man, unhappily, whose personal caprice can scarce fluctuate for an hour without affecting the destiny of Europe. I see the inward workings of fear struggling with pride in an ardent, enterprising, and tumultuous mind. I see all the captious jealousy of conscious usurpation, dreaded, detested, and obeyed, the giddiness and intoxication of splendid but unmerited success, the arrogance, the presumption, the selfwill of unlimited and idolized power, and more dreadful than all in the plenitude of authority, the restless and incessant activity of guilt, but unsated ambition. This scrap of mere phrases indicates a mind that was far beneath the calibre of that of a real statesman. It was a terrible fate for Great Britain to have at the head of the Government a man whose public life was a perpetual danger to the state. Had Pitt been the genius his eloquence led his contemporaries to believe he was, he would have availed himself of the opportunities the Great Figure, who was making the world rock with his genius, afforded the British Government from time to time of making peace on equitable terms. But Pitt's vision of the large things that constituted human existence was feeble and narrowed down to the nightmare of the "tumultuous mind" whose sole aim was the conquest of the Continent of Europe and the invasion of these Islands. The "usurper" must be subdued by the force of arms, the squandering of British wealth, and the sanguinary sacrifice of human lives. That was the only diplomacy his mental organism could evolve. He used his power of expression, which was great, to such good purpose that his theories reflected on his supporters. Had Pitt been talented in matters of international diplomacy, as he was in the other affairs of Government, he would have seized the opportunity of making the Peace of Amiens universal and durable. It is futile to contend that Napoleon was irreconcilable. His great ambition was to form a concrete friendship with our Government, which he foresaw could be fashioned into a continental arrangement, intricate and entangled as all the elements were at the time. Napoleon never ceased to deplore the impossibility of coming to any reciprocal terms with England so long as Pitt's influence was in the ascendant, and he and a large public in France and in this country profoundly believed that Fox had not only the desire but the following, and all the diplomatic qualities to bring it about. Any close, impartial student of history, free from the popular prejudices which assailed Napoleon's origin and advent to power, cannot but concede the great possibilities of this view. It was only statesmen like Fox who had unconfused perception, and inveighed against the stupidity of ministers acclaimed by an ignorant public as demigods. Napoleon's starting-points were to "Surmount great obstacles and attain great ends. There must be prudence, wisdom, and dexterity." "We should," he said, "do everything by reason and calculation, estimating the trouble, the sacrifice, and the pleasure entailed in gaining a certain end, in the same way as we work out any sum in arithmetic by addition and subtraction. But reason and logic should be the guiding principle in all we do. That which is bad in politics, even though in strict accordance with law, is inexcusable unless absolutely necessary, and whatever goes beyond that is criminal." These were briefly the general principles on which he shaped his ends, and they are pretty safe guides. His mentality, as I have said, was so complete that it covered every subtle and charming form of thought and knowledge, even to the smallest affairs of life. No theologians knew more than he or could converse so clearly on the many different religions; and he was as well versed in the intricacies of finance and civil law as he was in the knowledge of art, literature, and statecraft. His memory was prodigious, and a common saying of his was that "A head without a memory was like a fort without a garrison." He never used a word that was not full of meaning. The unparalleled amount of literature that surrounds his name teems with concise, vivid sentences on every conceivable subject, and the more they are read and studied, the more wonderful appears their wisdom. On the eve of a great battle, his exhortations to his soldiers were like magic, burning hot into their souls, making them irresistible. The popular idea in the country in his time, when passion ran rampant, and indeed, in a hazy way, affects some people's minds now, was that he and his family were mere perfidious Corsicans without mental endowments or character, and unworthy of the stations in life in which his genius had placed them. His sisters have been caricatured as having the manners of the kitchen, and loose morals, and his brothers as mediocrities. A great deal of the same stuff is now written about other people who have occupied and do occupy high stations in life. Here is Napoleon's own version of each of his brothers and sisters and of his mother. It was given in course of conversation to Las Cases at St. Helena. "The Emperor," he says, "speaks of his people; of the slight assistance he has received at their hands, and of the trouble they had been to him; he goes on to say that for the rest, we should always, as a last resort, endeavour to form a judgment by analogy. What family, in similar circumstances, would have done better? And, after all, does not mine furnish, on the whole, a record which does me honour? Joseph would be an ornament to society wherever he might happen to reside; Lucien, an ornament to any political assembly; Jerome, had he come to years of discretion, would have made an excellent ruler; I had great hopes of him. Louis would have been popular, and a remarkable man anywhere. My sister Elisa had a man's intellect, a brave heart, and she would have met adversity philosophically. Caroline is a very clever and capable woman. Pauline, perhaps the most beautiful woman of her day, has been, and will be until the end, the most charming creature living. As for my mother, she is worthy of every respect. What family as numerous could make a finer impression?" If unprejudiced history counts for anything, this testimony is true, and it is doubtful whether any of the ruling families of France who preceded them, or even those of other countries, who took part in bringing about their downfall (taking them as a whole), could tabulate a better record of worthiness. Certainly no previous ruler of France ever made the efforts that the head of the Bonaparte family did to fashion his brothers and sisters into filling the positions he had made for them in a way that became princes and princesses. The fact is, the political mind was whirling and permeated with the idea of his ambition only, and the human aversion to the introduction of new and improved conditions of life. The ruling classes were seized with alarm lest the spirit of the French Revolution would become popular in this country, and that not only their possessions might be confiscated, but that their lives would be in peril if the doctrines he stood for were to take hold of the public imagination. They were afraid, as they are now, of the despotism of democracy, and so they kept the conflict raging for over twenty years. Then came the fall of the greatest genius and most generous warrior-statesman who has ever figured in the world's history; he had staggered creation with his formidable power, and the instruments of his downfall flattered themselves that the day of Divine vengeance had arrived. III Only a few short months had elapsed when the indomitable hero, well informed of the Allies' squabbling deliberations, at the seat of Conference over the division of their conquest, and their vindictive intentions towards himself, startled them by the news of his landing and uninterrupted march on Paris, and was everywhere acclaimed by the cheers of the Army and the civilian population. Louis XVIII, whom the conquerors had set on the throne, flew in panic when he heard that the man of destiny was swiftly nearing his palace to take his place again as the idol and chief of a great people. Meanwhile, the Allies had somewhat recovered from their apoplectic dismay, and one and all solemnly resolved to "make war against Napoleon Bonaparte," the disturber of the peace, though he was the welcomed Emperor of the French. It was they who were the disturbers of the peace, and especially Great Britain, who headed the Coalition which was to drench again the Continent with human blood. Napoleon offered to negotiate, and never was there a more humane opportunity given to the nations to settle their affairs in a way that would have assured a lasting peace, but here again the ruling classes, with their usual impudent assumption of power to use the populations for the purpose of killing each other and creating unspeakable suffering in all the hideous phases of warfare, refused to negotiate, and at their bidding soldiers were plunged into the last Napoleonic conflict though many other conflicts have followed in consequence. Nothing so deadly has ever happened. The French were defeated and their Emperor sent to St. Helena with the beneficent Sir Hudson Lowe as his jailer. What a cynical mockery of a man this creature of Wellington, Castlereagh, and Lord Bathurst was! He carried out their behests, and after the ugly deed of vindictiveness, rage and frenzy had wrought the tragic end, they shielded their wicked act by throwing the guilt on him, and he was hustled off to a distant colony to govern again lest his uneasy spirit should put them in the dock of public opinion. He pleaded with them to employ the law officers of the Crown to bring an action against Doctor Barry O'Meara, whose "Voice from St. Helena" teemed with as dark a story as was ever put in print, in which he and his coadjutors figured as the base contracting parties. And the more he urged that the book was a libel against himself, the more O'Meara demanded that the action against him should be brought, and for very substantial reasons it never was. The Duke of Wellington said of Sir Hudson, "He was a stupid man. A bad choice and totally unfit to take charge of Bonaparte." And the great French Chieftain has left on record his contemptuous opinion of the Duke, as I have already said. "Un homme de peu d'esprit sans générosité, et sans grandeur d'âme." (He was a poor-spirited man without generosity, and without greatness of soul.) "Un homme borné." (A man of limited capacity.) His opinion of Nelson was different, although our Admiral had hammered the French sea power out of existence and helped largely to shatter any hope Napoleon may have had of bringing the struggle on land to a successful conclusion. But these tragic happenings did not bring repose to the nations. Pitt died in 1806, so he missed seeing the fulfilment of his great though mistaken ambition. Who can doubt, as I have said, that the lack of diplomatic genius in preventing the spreading of the Napoleonic wars has been the means of creating other wars, and especially the greatest of all, in which the whole world is now engaged! That Napoleon himself was averse to a conflict which would involve all Europe and bring desolation in its train is shown by the following letter, written by his own hand, to George III. How different might the world have been to-day had the letter been received in the same spirit in which it was conceived. SIR AND BROTHER,--Called to the throne of France by Providence, and the suffrages of the Senate, the people, and the Army, my first sentiment is a wish for peace. France and England abuse their prosperity. They may contend for ages, but do their Governments well fulfil the most sacred of their duties, and will not so much bloodshed uselessly, and without a view to any end, condemn them in their own consciences? I consider it no disgrace to adopt the first step. I have, I hope, sufficiently proved to the world that I fear none of the chances of war, which presents nothing I have need to fear; peace is the wish of my heart, but war has never been inconsistent with my glory. I conjure your Majesty not to deny yourself the happiness of giving peace to the world, or leave that sweet satisfaction to your children; for certainly there never was a more fortunate opportunity nor a moment more favourable than the present, to silence all the passions and listen only to the sentiments of humanity and reason. This moment once lost, what bounds can be ascribed to a war which all my efforts will not be able to terminate. Your Majesty has gained more in ten years, both in territory and riches, than the whole extent of Europe. Your nation is at the highest point of prosperity, what can it hope from war? To form a coalition with some Powers on the Continent? The Continent will remain tranquil; a coalition can only increase the preponderance and continental greatness of France. To renew intestine troubles? The times are no longer the same. To destroy our finances? Finances founded on a flourishing agriculture can never be destroyed. To wrest from France her colonies? The colonies are to France only a secondary object; and does not your Majesty already possess more than you know how to preserve? If your Majesty would but reflect, you must perceive that the war is without an object; or any presumable result to yourself. Alas! What a melancholy prospect; to fight merely for the sake of fighting. The world is sufficiently wide for our two nations to live in, and reason sufficiently powerful to discover the means of reconciling everything, when a wish for reconciliation exists on both sides. I have, however, fulfilled a sacred duty, and one which is precious to my heart. I trust your Majesty will believe the sincerity of my sentiments, and my wish to give you every proof of the same, etc. (_Signed_) NAPOLEON. This letter indicates the mind and heart of a great statesman. The thinking people, and therefore the most reliable patriots, would receive a similar appeal to-day from the Kaiser in a different spirit than did the King and the Government of George III. We believe that the war with Germany was forced upon us, and that Mr. Asquith's Government, and especially Sir Edward Grey (his Foreign Secretary) used every honourable means to avoid it, but the cause and origin of it sprang out of the defects of managing and settling the wars that raged at the beginning of the last century, and Pitt, aided by those colleagues of his who were swayed by his magnetic influence, are responsible to a large degree in laying the foundation of the present menace to European concord. Napoleon's plan of unification would have kept Prussian militarism in check. He looked, and saw into the future, while Pitt and his supporters had no vision at all. They played the Prussian game by combining to bring about the fall of the monarch who should have been regarded as this country's natural ally, and by undoing the many admirable safeguards which were designed to prevent Prussia from forcing other German States under her dominion. Napoleon predicted that which would happen, and has happened. He always kept in mind the cunning and unscrupulous tricks of Frederick and knew that if _his_ power were destroyed, that would be Prussia's opportunity to renew the methods of the Hohenzollern scoundrel, the hero of Thomas Carlyle, and the intermittent friend of Voltaire, who made unprovoked war on Marie Theresa with that splendid Prussian disregard for treaty obligations, and who then, with amazing insolence, after the seven years' butchery was over, sat down at Sans Souci in the companionship of his numerous dogs to write his memoirs in which he states that "Ambition, interest, the desire of making people talk about him carried the day, and he decided for war;" he might have added to the majestic Hohenzollern creed, incurable treachery, falsehood, hypocrisy, and cowardice! But the law of retribution comes to nations as well as to individuals, and after the disappearance of Frederick, Prussian ascendancy came to an end and sank to the lowest depths of hopelessness before the terrible power of Napoleon; after his fall, the old majestic arrogance natural to their race began to revive. It took many years for the military caste to carry their objectives to maturity, and had we stood sensibly and loyally by our French neighbours, the tragedy that gapes at us now could never have come to pass. Possibly the Franco-German war would never have occurred had our foreign policy been skilfully handled and our attitude wisely apprehensive of Germany's ultimate unification and her aggressive aims. The generations that are to come will assuredly be made to see the calamities wrought by the administrators of that period, whose faculties consisted in hoarding up prejudices, creating enmities, and making wars that drained the blood and treasure of our land. We do not find a single instance of Pitt or Castlereagh expressing an idea worthy of statesmanship. What did either of these men ever do to uplift the higher phases of humanity by grappling with the problem that had been brought into being by the French Revolution? When we think of responsible ministers having no other vision or plan of coming to an understanding with the French nation except by their screams, groans, and odour of blood, it makes one shudder, and we wish to forget that the people allowed them to carry out their hideous methods of settling disputes. A galaxy of brilliant writers has sung their praises in profusion, but while the present writer admires the literary charm of the penmen's efforts, he does not find their conclusions so agreeable or so easy to understand. There was never a time, in our opinion, even during the most embarrassing and darkest phases of the Napoleonic struggle, in which our differences with France were insoluble. Napoleon, as I have said, never ceased to avow his willingness to make vital sacrifices in order that peace between the two peoples should be consummated. The stereotyped cant of maintaining the "Balance of Power" is no excuse for plunging a nation into gruesome, cruel, and horrible wars. It is when our liberties are threatened that circumstances may arise when it would be a crime not to defend them. But where and when were any of our interests threatened by Napoleon until we became the aggressors by interfering with the policy of what he called his "Continental system"? Even before Napoleon became Consul, First Consul, and subsequently Emperor of the French, it was deemed high policy on the part of our statesmen to take sides against the French Directorate in disputes that were caused and had arisen on the Continent out of the Revolution, and once involved in the entanglement which it is hard to believe concerned us in any degree, the nation was committed to a long and devastating debauch of crime which men who understood the real art of statesmanship would have avoided. Many of the famous statesmen who have lived since their time would have acted differently. Fox, with a free hand, would have saved us, and but for the senseless attitude of the Pitt-Castlereagh party, the Grey, Romilly, Horner, Burdett and Tierny combination would have prevented the last of Napoleon's campaigns between his return from Elba and his defeat at Waterloo, which proved to be the bloodiest of all the Emperor's wars. Amongst a certain section of the community the belief is that they who can steer the State along peaceful lines are mediocrities, and they who involve us in war are geniuses and earn the distinction of fame and Westminster Abbey, though it may be that they are totally void of all the essentials that are required to keep on good terms, not only with other Powers, but with our own masses. Take, first of all, the unostentatious old Scotsman, Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman, who was regarded in the light of a mediocrity by the bellicose-minded people. Had he lived and been in power at the time of Pitt and Castlereagh, his finely constituted, shrewd brain and quiet determined personality would have guided the State in a way that would have brought it credit and kept it out of the shambles. Another personality who is possessed of attributes that have been scantily recognized is that of Lord Rosebery who, during his Foreign Secretaryship under Mr. Gladstone, and when he became Premier himself, saved this country more than once from war with Germany, leaving out of account the many other services rendered to his country. It is a tragedy to allow such merits to be wasted because of some slight difference of opinion in matters that do not count compared with the advantage of having at the head of affairs a man with an unerring tactful brain who can deal with international complexities with complete ease and assurance. Although Mr. Gladstone must always be associated with those who were responsible for the guilt of dragging this country, and perhaps France, into the Crimean war in defence of a State and a people whom he declared in other days should be turned out of Europe "bag and baggage" because of her unwholesome Government and hideous crimes to her subject races, _he_ had the courage and the honesty to declare in later life that the part he took in allowing himself to acquiesce in a policy he did not approve, would always be a bitter thought to him. Had he been at the head of the Government then, and had he lived at the time of the continental upheaval that followed the French Revolution, all the evidences of his humane spirit and prodigious capacity lead us to the belief that there were no circumstances affecting our vital national interests that would have led him to take up arms against France. Nor do we think that a statesman of Lord Salisbury's stamp would have failed to find a way out. Disraeli was a different type. He lived in a picturesque world, and thirsted for sensation. The enormity of war was meaningless to him. He was not a constitutional statesman, but merely a politician who liked to arouse emotions. Mr. Asquith, whose head is free from the wafting of feathers, would, with strong and loyal backers, have applied his inimitable powers of persuasion and tact in accomplishing his ends without a rupture; and Lord Morley would as soon have thought of dancing a hornpipe on his mother's tomb as have yielded to the clamour for war by any number of the people or any number of his colleagues, no matter how numerous or how powerful they might be; even though his opinion of the French Emperor were strongly adverse, he would have angled for peace or resigned. I would rather place the guidance of the country through intricate courses in this man's hands than in that of a man mentally constituted as was Pitt. The present Viscount Grey would have taken the line his namesake took in 1815 by strongly advocating a peaceful solution. Take another man of our own time, the Right Hon. Arthur Balfour. He would have parleyed and schemed until the time had passed for any useful object to be gained by our joining in the war, always provided that the Jingo spirit were not too irrepressible for him to overpower and bewilder with his engaging philosophy. If George III had been blessed with these types of statesmen to advise him instead of the Castlereaghs, he might not have lost his reason. Napoleon would never have gone to Egypt, and our shores would never have been threatened with invasion. Nor would British and neutral trade have been paralysed in such a way as to bring in its wake ruin, riots, bankruptcies, and every form of devastation in 1811. And as a natural corollary, we were plunged into a war with America which lasted from 1812 to 1814, and which left, as it well might, long years of bitter and vindictive memories in the minds of a people who were of our race and kindred. Our people as a whole (but especially the poorer classes) were treated in a manner akin to barbarism, while their rulers invoked them to bear like patriots the suffering they had bestowed upon them. But the canker had eaten so deeply into their souls that it culminated in fierce riots breaking out in Lancashire and London which spread to other parts and were only suppressed by measures that are familiar to the arrogant despots who, by their clumsy acts, are the immediate cause of revolt. Pitt and Castlereagh were the High Commissioners of the military spirit which the Whigs detested, and when the former died in 1806 the latter became the natural leader. Pitt was buried peaceably enough in the Abbey, but when his successor's tragic end came in 1822, the populace avenged themselves of the wrongs for which they believed he was responsible by throwing stones at the coffin as it was being solemnly borne to its last resting place beside William Pitt. Both men made war on Napoleon because they believed him to be the implacable disturber of peace and a danger to their country. Pitt, as we have seen, left among his MS. his opinion of the great soldier, and here is the latter's opinion of Pitt, expressed to his ministers on the eve of his leaving Paris for his last campaign against his relentless foes. "I do not know," he said (to his ministers in speaking to them of the new constitution he had granted), "how in my absence you will manage to lead the Chambers. Monsieur Fouché thinks that popular assemblies are to be controlled by gaining over some old jobbers, or flattering some young enthusiasts. That is only intrigue, and intrigue does not carry one far. In England, such means are not altogether neglected; but there are greater and nobler ones. Remember Mr. Pitt, and look at Lord Castlereagh! With a sign from his eyebrows, Mr. Pitt could control the House of Commons, and so can Lord Castlereagh now! Ah! if I had such instruments, I should not be afraid of the Chambers. But have I anything to resemble these?"[22] This piece of pathetic history is given to us by the French historian, M. Thiers, the lifelong enemy of his Imperial master, Napoleon III. We are faced now with the Power that we helped to build up against ourselves at the expense of the wreck of the First French Empire. The political situation then and now bears no comparison. We made war on the French without any real justification, and stained our high sense of justice by driving them to frenzy. We bought soldiers and sailors to fight them from impecunious German and Hanoverian princes. We subsidized Russia, Prussia, Austria, Portugal, Spain, and that foul cesspool, Naples, at the expense of the starvation of the poorest classes in our own country. The bellicose portion of the population, composed mainly of the upper and middle classes, shrieked their deluded terrors of extinction into the minds of the people and believed that if we did not make common cause with the downtrodden sanctified allies who were fighting a man-eating ogre who was overrunning their respective countries, putting every one to the sword, we should become the objects of his fierce attention, be invaded and ground down to slavery for ever and ever. Our statesmen, hypocritically full of the gospel of pity, could not speak of our ally of other days without weeping, while at the same time pouring further subsidies into their greedy traitorous laps, in order that they might secure their co-ordination. It is futile for historian apologists to attempt to vindicate men who obviously were afflicted with moral cupidity, begotten of intellectual paralysis. It is merely an unwholesome subterfuge to state that they were free from enmity against the French nation, and that their quarrel was with the head of it. There would be just as much common sense in contending that the French Government had no hostile feeling against the British people, and that their quarrel was only against George III. Devices such as these, under any circumstances, are not only unworthy, but childish, and their sole object is to throw dust in the eyes of those they flippantly call the common people. As a matter of fact, it was not only the Emperor Napoleon whom they made it their policy to charge with being a public danger to the world, but the principles of the Revolution which he sprang from obscurity to save, which was slyly kept at the back of their heads. But the Republic, which was the outcome of the Revolution, was an approved ordinance of the people, and in addition to Napoleon being their duly elected representative, he was regarded by them as the incarnation of the Republic. The difference between him and the other monarchs of Europe was, that while they inherited their position, his election was democratically ratified by millions of votes. These votes were given by the people with whom a foreign Government declared it was at peace while at the same time it was at war with their Chief, whom they had from time to time duly elected. This is a method of warfare which represents no high form of thought or action, and to the everlasting credit of the French people be it said, they not only resented it, but stood loyally by their Emperor and their country until they were overpowered by the insidious poison of treason and intrigue from within and without. What a howl there would have been if the German Kaiser had sent out a proclamation that he was not at war with the British nation, but with their King and Government! Suppose he had committed the same act of arrogance towards the President of the United States, the revulsion of feeling would be irrepressible in every part of the world. We recognize at the same time that Napoleon's position was made insecure by an important element of his own countrymen, composed of the Bourbons and their supporters, who never ceased to intrigue for their return. Besides, there was a strong Republican element who never forgave him for allowing himself to become Emperor. But the most serious defection was that of some of his most important Generals, amongst whom were Marmont and Bertheur. The former subsequently became the military tutor of his son, the King of Rome, who died at Schonbrunn on the 22nd July, 1832, eleven years after his father's death at St. Helena. A notable fact is that there were very few of his common soldiers and common people who did not stand by him to the last, and who would not have continued the struggle under his trusted and revered generalship, had he elected to fight on. He implored the Provisional Government to give their sanction to this, and had they done so, he has stated that he could have kept the Allies at bay and would have ultimately made them sue for peace. Most authorities declare that this would have been impossible, but his genius as a tactician was so prodigious and unrivalled, his art of enthusing his soldiers so vastly superior to that of any general that could be brought against him, his knowledge of the country on which he might select to give battle so matchless that one has substantial grounds for believing that his assertion was more than a mere flash of imagination, and that even with the shattered, loyal portion of his army, he might have succeeded in changing defeat into a victory which would have changed the whole political position of Europe. He frequently reverted to his last campaign and his last battle at Waterloo, when he was in captivity at St. Helena, and declared he should never have lost it, as his plan of battle at every point was never better devised, and that by all the arts of war he ought to have defeated the Allies; then he would lapse into sadness and soliloquize, "It must have been fate." In the effort to crush a cause and a nation which had been brought out of the depths of anarchy and raised to the zenith of power by the advent of a great spirit, the British Government of that period made their country parties to the slaughter of thousands of our fellow-creatures, which, in the light of subsequent events, has left a stain upon our diplomacy that can never be effaced, no matter what form of excuse may be set forth to justify it. Never, in the whole history of blurred diplomatic vision, has there evolved so great a calamity to the higher development of civilization. By taking so prominent a part in preventing Napoleon from fulfilling the eternal purpose for which all nature foreshadowed he was intended, we made it possible for Germany to develop systematically a diabolical policy of treason which has involved the world in war, drenching it with human blood. The Allies pursued Napoleon to his downfall. Their attitude during the whole course of his rule was senselessly vindictive. They gloated over his misfortune when he became their victim, and they consummated their vengeance by making him a martyr. The exile of St. Helena acted differently. When he conquered, instead of viciously overrunning the enemy's country and spreading misery and devastation, he made what he wished to be lasting peace, and allowed the sovereigns to retain their thrones. How often did he carry out this act of generosity towards Prussia and Austria, and who can deny that he did not act benevolently towards Alexander of Russia, when at Austerlitz and Tilsit, he formed what he regarded as lasting personal friendship with the Czar! It is all moonshine to say that he broke the friendship. The power of Russia, Prussia, and Austria were hopelessly wrecked more than once, and on each occasion they intrigued him into war again, and then threw themselves at his feet, grovelling supplicants for mercy, which he never withheld. Well might he exclaim to Caulaincourt, his ambassador in 1814, when the congress was sitting at Chatillon: "These people will not treat; the position is reversed; they have forgotten my conduct to them at Tilsit. Then I could have crushed them; my clemency was simple folly." The nations who treated him with such unreasonable severity would do well to reflect over the unfathomable folly of the past, and try to realize, at the present stage of their critical existence, that it may be possible that human life is reaping the agonies of a terrible retribution for a crime an important public in every civilized country believed, and still continues to believe, to have been committed. It is a natural law of life that no mysterious physical force ever dies, but only changes its form and direction. Individuals and vast communities may dare to mock at the great mystery that we do not understand. But it is a perilous experiment to defy its visitations. What incalculable results may arise through taking the wrong attitude towards the great laws that govern our being! The autocratic rulers at the beginning of the last century were never right in their views as to how the vastly greater image than their own should be treated. They measured Napoleon and his loftier qualities by their own tumultuous limitations, which prevented them from seeing how wide the gulf was between him and the ordinary man. He was a magical personality, and they failed to comprehend it. Heinrich Heine, the great German writer, who was pro-Napoleon, has told a vivid story of how he visited the East India Docks, while he was in London, and there saw a large sailing vessel with a great number of coloured people on board, Mohammedans for the most part. He wished to speak to them but did not know their language. He was particularly anxious to show them some courtesy if even, as he says, in a single word, so he reverently called out the name "Mohammed." In an instant the countenance of these strange people beamed with pleasure, and with characteristic Eastern devotion bowed themselves and shouted back to him "Bonaparte." I have no thought, in writing of Napoleon, to draw a comparison between him and the ex-Kaiser and his guilty coadjutors in crime, who forced a peaceful world into unspeakable war. They have been guilty of the foulest of murders, which will outmatch in ferocity every phase of human barbarity. There can be no pardon or pity for them. They must pay the penalty of their crimes, as other criminals have to do. The following letter, addressed by William II to his late colleague in guilt, the Emperor Joseph of Austria, is enough in itself to set the whole world into a blaze of vengeance:-- "My soul is torn," says this canting outcast, "but everything must be put to fire and sword, men, women, children, and old men must be slaughtered, and not a tree or house be left standing. With these methods of terrorism, which are alone capable of affecting a people so degenerate as the French, the war will be over in two months, whereas if I admit humanitarian considerations, it will last years. In spite of my repugnance, I have, therefore, been obliged to choose the former system." It is hard to believe that a document of this kind could be written by any one that was not far gone in lunacy, but in any case, I repeat it is to be hoped that St. Helena will not be desecrated by sending him to that hallowed abode. It is never a difficult performance to become involved in war, and it is always a tax on human genius to find a decent way out of it; whether it be honourable or dishonourable does not matter to those who believe in conflict as a solution of international disputes. History can safely be challenged to prove that anything but wild wrath and ruin is the unfailing outcome of war to all the belligerents, whether few or many. More often than not, it is brought about by the exulting chatter of a few irrepressible and also irresponsible individuals who have military or political ambitions to look after, and no other faculty of reason or vocabulary than the gibberish "that war will clear the air." They ostentatiously claim a monopoly of patriotism; and convey their views on war matters with a blustering levity which is a marvel to the astonished soul. Their attitude towards human existence is that you cannot be a patriot or create a great nation unless you are bellicose and warlike. This was the deplorable condition of mind that involved us in the wars subsequent to the French Revolution. But the diplomatists (if it be proper to call them such) and the oligarchy were responsible for the ruptures at that period, and certainly not the general public. In fact, it is doubtful whether the _general public_ are ever in favour of breaking the peace. A minority may be, but they are the noisy and unreflecting section. There is a wide difference between the Napoleonic wars and that which was waged against the civilized world by the German Kaiser and his military myrmidons, who have acted throughout like wild beasts. There never has been perpetrated so atrocious a crime as the deliberately planned military outrage on the peace of the world. The brief comparison between Kaiser William and Napoleon Bonaparte is that the one, like Frederick, the hero of Thomas Carlyle, is a shameless traitor to every act of human decency, and the other, in spite of what biassed writers have thought it their duty to say of him, was an unparalleled warrior-statesman, and his motives and actions were all on the side of God's humanity and good government. From the time he was found and made the head of the French nation, he was always obliged to be on the defensive, and, as he stated, never once declared war. The continental Great Powers always made war on _him_, but not without his thrashing them soundly until they pleaded in their humility to be allowed to lick his boots. You may search English State papers in any musty hole you like, and you will find no authoritative record that comes within miles of justifying the opinions or the charges that have been stated or written against him. Let us not commit the sacrilege, if he is ever made prisoner and is not shot for the murders and cruelties he and his subjects have committed on British men and women at sea and on land, of deporting the Kaiser to St. Helena to desecrate the ground made sacred for all time because of the great Emperor who was an exile there. Force of circumstances made Louis Philippe declare the truth to the world's new generations (doubtless to save his own precious skin) that "he was not only an emperor, but a king from the very day that the French nation called upon him to be their ruler." The kingly Louis would have given worlds not to have been compelled to say this truth of him, but his crown was at stake. The Senate voted with enthusiasm that he should be First Consul for ten years, and he replied to the vote of confidence that "Fortune had smiled upon the Republic; but Fortune was inconstant; how many men," said he, "upon whom she has heaped her favours have lived too long by some years, and that the interest of his glory and happiness seemed to have marked the period of his public life, at the moment when the peace of the world is proclaimed." Then with one of those spasmodic impulses that compel attention, he darts an arrow right on the spot; "If," he says, "you think I owe the nation a new sacrifice, I will make it; that is, if the _wishes of the people_ correspond with the command authorized by their suffrages." Always the suffrages, you observe, and never the miserable, slandering, backbiting dodges of the treasonists. The mind of this remarkable man was a palatial storehouse of wise, impressive inspirations. Here is one of countless instances where a prejudiced adversary bears testimony to his power and wisdom. A few Republican officers sought and were granted an audience, and the following is a frank admission of their own impotence and Napoleon's greatness: "I do not know," their spokesman says, "from whence or from whom he derives it, but there is a charm about that man indescribable and irresistible. I am no admirer of his." Such persons always preface any statement they are about to make by asserting their own superiority in this way, and the officers, who, with others, had many imaginary grievances against Napoleon, determined to empty their overburdened souls to him. This gallant person emphasizes the fact that he dislikes "the power to which he (Napoleon) had risen," yet he cannot help confessing (evidently with reluctance) that there is something in him which seems to speak that he is born to command. "We went into his apartment to expostulate warmly with him, and not to depart until our complaints were removed. But by his manner of receiving us we were disarmed in a moment, and could not utter one word of what we were going to say. He talked to us with an eloquence peculiarly his own, and explained with clearness and precision the importance of pursuing the line of conduct he had adopted, never contradicting us in direct terms, but controverted our opinions so astutely that we had not a single word to offer in reply, and retired convinced that he was in the right and that we were manifestly in the wrong." It is a common delusion with little men to believe that they are big with wisdom and knowledge, even after they have been ravelled to shreds by a man of real ability. The French Republican officers were condescendingly candid in giving the First Consul a high character, and he, in turn, made these self-assertive gentlemen feel abashed in his presence, and sent them about their business without having made any unnatural effort to prove that they had had an interview with a majestic personality, who had made articulation impossible to them. I might give thousands of testimonies, showing the great power this superman had over other minds, from the highest monarchical potentate to the humblest of his subjects. The former were big with a combination of fear and envy. They would deign to grovel at his feet, slaver compliments, and deluge him with adulation (if he would have allowed them), and then proceed to stab him from behind in the most cowardly fashion. There are always swarms of human insects whose habits of life range between the humble supplicant and the stinging, poisonous wasps. It would have been better for the whole civilized world had there been more wisely clever men, such as Charles James Fox, in public life in this and other countries during Napoleon's time. He was the one great Englishman who towered above any of the ministers who were contemporary with him in this country, and certainly no public man had a finer instinct than he as to the policy Great Britain should observe towards a nation that was being dragged out of the cesspool of corruption and violence into a democratic grandeur of government that was the envy of Continental as well as British antiquarians. Fox saw clearly the manifest benefit to both countries if they could be made to understand and not to envy each other. In 1802, Fox was received in Paris like a highly popular monarch. The whole city went wild with the joy of having him as the guest of France. He was the great attraction at the theatres next to the First Consul, whom Fox declared "was a most decided character, that would hold to his purpose with more constancy and through a longer interval than is imagined; his views are not directed to this, i.e. the United Kingdom, but to the Continent only." "I never saw," he says, "so little indirectness in any statesman as in the First Consul." Had Fox been supported by sufficient strong men to counteract the baneful influence of the weeds who were a constant peril to the country over whose destinies George III and they ruled, we should have been saved the ghastly errors that were committed in the name of the British people. The King's dislike to Fox was openly avowed. He used to talk incessantly of going back to Hanover whenever he was thwarted in his disastrous policy of giving the country a stab, or when the inevitable brought Fox into office. Everything that emanated from the great statesman was viewed with aversion and as being unjust and indecent by the royal Lilliputian, while Fox's estimate of the King could not be uttered on a lower plane. He says, in speaking of His Majesty, "It is intolerable to think that it should be in the power of _one_ blockhead to do so much mischief"--meaning, I presume, amongst many other blunders, the mess he was persisting in making over American affairs. Had there been capable statesmen during that crisis, the Continent of Europe and the vast dominions of Great Britain would not have been at war this day with the pernicious Power that we, more than any other nation, as has been previously stated, helped to create and foster. V Fox was the only genius in our political life at that time, while Pitt was a mere shadow in comparison, though it is fair to state that the former always believed that he and Pitt would have made a workable combination. As to the rest, they were pretty much on the level of the Lilliputians with whom the late traveller, Mr. Lemuel Gulliver, had such intimate and troublesome relations. The book by the Dean of St. Patrick's, "Gulliver's Travels," is a perfect caricature of the political dwarfs of his time, and vividly represents the men who misruled this country in George III's reign. But the Dean's laughable history of the pompous antics of the Lilliputians is a picture which describes the constitution of our present administration who are managing the critical affairs of the nation so ill that disaster is inevitable in many forms, seen and unseen. The administrative machine is clogged with experimental human odds and ends who have neither wit, knowledge, nor wisdom to fill the post allotted to them, and the appalling thought is that the nation as a whole is being blustered by the intriguers who are forcing every national interest into certain destruction. Truly the Lilliputians are a plague on all human interests, _real_ patriotism, and capacity: always mischievous, always incapable, just the same now as when, in the eighteenth century, their type forced a peaceful and neutral Power into war because they refused to yield their fleet to them; always seeing things that do not exist, and foreboding perils that would never have come but for their dwarfish interference. They discovered in their flights of frenzy and fancy that Napoleon intended to take possession by force of the Danish fleet, when, as a matter of fact, he had never shown any indication, by word or thought, of committing an act so unjust and hostile to his own interests. A strong point in his policy was to keep Denmark on terms of friendly neutrality. Moreover, he was not, as many writers have said (in loyalty to fashion), an unscrupulous breaker of treaties. It was an unworthy act of the British Government to send Mr. Jackson as their representative to bully the Danes into giving up their fleet to the British, on the plea that they had learned by reports through various channels what Napoleon's intentions were. Count Bernsdorf, to whom Jackson insolently conveyed the nightmare of his Government, very properly raged back at him that "the Danish Government had no such information, and that he was adducing false reports and mere surmises quite unworthy of credit to fill the measure of British injustice in forcing Denmark into a ruinous war. It was folly to suppose that Napoleon could gain anything by throwing Norway and Denmark into an alliance with England and Sweden." Then he adds, with a dignified sense of wrong, "that the Regent knew how to defend his neutrality." "It might be possible," retorts Mr. Jackson, "though appearances are against that supposition, that the Danish Government _did not wish_ to lend itself to hostile views; still, it could not resist France." Then Bernsdorf, who has right on his side, said in accents of crushing anger, "So! because you think Napoleon has the intention of wounding us in the tenderest part, you would struggle with him for priority and be the first to do the deed?" "Yes," responds the distinguished representative of the upholders of the rights of nations, "Great Britain would insist upon a pledge of amity." "What pledge," demands the Count. "The pledge of uniting the Danish forces to those of Great Britain," is the reply. It will be seen that nothing short of vassalism will satisfy the policy laid down by the stupid emancipationists of downtrodden nations, as represented by the impressive effrontery of the noble Jackson. What a terrible piece of wooden-headed history was the effort to force Denmark to break her neutrality or make war on her! They seized Zealand, and because the Prince Regent refused to agree to their perfidy, they kept possession of it. The Prince sent written instructions to burn all the ships and stores, but the messenger was captured and the faithful person to whom the delivery of the document was entrusted swallowed it (i.e. swallowed the instructions). Copenhagen had been bombarded and practically reduced to destruction by Nelson, who had settled with the Danes on favourable British terms, one of the conditions being that they were to leave with their booty in six weeks. The Regent subsequently declared war and outwitted the British designs (so it is said) on Zealand. Castlereagh sought the aid of Lord Cathcart to find a dodge by which his Government could inveigle the Danes to commit a breach of the Convention, but the latter stood firm by the conditions, and the commanders, being disgusted with the whole affair, declined to aid their Chiefs in the Government in any act of double dealing. But they had the Emperor Alexander of Russia to deal with. He offered to act as intermediary between Great Britain and France in order to bring about an honourable peace. The British Government refused, and it is stated on incontrovertible authority that Alexander was furious, and upbraided the British with having used troops, which should have been sent to Russia's aid, to crush Denmark. The outrage of attacking a small State which was at peace and with which she had no quarrel was powerfully denounced by Alexander. He accused the British Government "of a monstrous violation of straight dealing, by ruining Denmark in the Baltic, which it knew was closed to foreign hostilities under a Russian guarantee." This caused Alexander to break off relations with Great Britain and annul all treaties he had with her. Canning feebly replied to the Russian Emperor's taunts, and, amongst other things, accused him of throwing over the King of the Huns. No wonder that Russia and some of the other Powers resented the perfidious conduct of British statesmen, employing British military and naval forces to overthrow and destroy not only a friendly Power, but one of the smallest and most strictly neutral States in Europe! Alexander jibed at them for using their resources for this unjust purpose, instead of sending them to help him when he was being so desperately driven to defeat by Napoleon. What a loutish trick it was to imagine that any real political or practical benefit could be derived from it! The seizure of the Danish fleet was a low-down act, for which those who were responsible should have been pilloried. The reasons given could not be sustained at the time, and still remain entirely unsupported by fact. There is no more disgraceful proceeding to be found in the pages of history than our raid on this small and highly honourable, inoffensive, and brave people. This bad statesmanship was deplorable. It set the spirit of butchery raging. It made a new enemy for ourselves, and in an economic sense added hundreds of thousands to our national debt, without deriving a vestige of benefit from either a military or political point of view. It undoubtedly prolonged the war, as all those squint-eyed enterprises are certain to do. It made us unpopular and mistrusted, and had no effect in damaging Napoleon's activities, nor of taking a single ally from him. There are occasions when nations have forced upon them cruel stratagems and alternatives, revolting in their abominable unworthiness, but in the case I am discussing I have found no substantial justification, nor has the deed been backed up to now or supported by a single _real_ authority. Nothing but condemnation still hangs round the memory of those hapless ministers who made the world so full of misery. I repeat, the greatest of all perils is to have a Government composed of men whose brains are full of kinks, and who do not reach beyond the bounds of basing their policy on the idea that some foreigner or other has designs on our national wealth, our trade, or our vast protectorates. In recent years that view has been dissipated, and the plan of broadening the national goodwill to men has been adopted and encouraged by a body of sound, unpretentious thinkers who have taken pains to train important gifts in the art of good government in all its varied aspects and international complexities. The whole public have had to pay appalling penalties in the past because an impulsive handful of the population is of opinion that self-advertising, harum-scarum politicians, in and out of office, are the geniuses who make and keep prosperity. This uncontrolled, emotional trend of thought comes in cycles and is unerringly followed by bitter disillusionment. It was so during the wars at the beginning of the last century, and it is so now. We always reflect after the tragedy has been consummated. Safe and astute administrators are always termed the "old gang" by the political amateurs, and the calamity is that a large public is so often carried away by the flighty delusions of the real cranks who style themselves the saviours of their country. At the present time we have as sure an example as ever the known world has witnessed of the awful disaster the resignation of the "old gang" has been to the whole of the Powers interested in this world-war, especially to our own country. We shall realize this more fully by and by when the naked truth presents itself. The very people who are conspicuously responsible for the destruction of unity always bellow the loudest to maintain it after they have been the high conspirators in breaking it, aided by their guilty followers. What bitter lessons this land of ours has been subjected to in other days! For twenty years the country was kept in the vortex of a raging war, with no more justification than giving Mr. Jackson instructions that the one imperative idea to keep in his mind was to take possession of the Danish fleet. Nothing was to stand in the way of this great adventure, shameless though it might be. Lord Malmesbury writes in his diary: "Capture of Danish fleet by surprise on account of most undoubted information received from the Prince Regent of Portugal of Bonaparte's intention to use the Portuguese and Danish fleets for invasion of England. First hint of the plan given by the Prince of Wales to the Duke of Portland. The Portuguese refused the demand, and told the British Government of it; the Danes accepted, kept silence, and afterwards denied it." The entry in Malmesbury's diary has been proved to be a string of pure inventions, for which he or some other informants are responsible. I have said no record has been left to show that Napoleon ever had any intention of occupying the ports of Holstein or of using the Danish fleet for the invasion of Great Britain and Ireland. Members of Parliament in the House of Commons and members of the House of Lords proved beyond question that ministers' statements, taking the dates into account, were entirely erroneous. Canning defended the sending of the expedition, which was natural, as he was one of the principal advocates of it. But the House would stand none of his tricks of evasion or repudiation. He, like some more modern ministers, ventured on the hazardous plan of deceiving Parliament, and, as was said at the time, setting fair dealing at defiance. Canning, like all tricksters, read extracts from documents, authentic and otherwise, to prove that Denmark was hostile to Britain, but when a demand was made for their inspection, he impudently refused to allow the very documents he had based his case of justification on to be scrutinized, and in consequence no other conclusion could be arrived at than that he was unscrupulously misleading the country. In fact, the Government's case was so bad it would not bear the light of God's day! I venture to say that Mr. Fox knew more of the character, political intricacies, and ambitions of the French race than any public man or writer of history of his own or in subsequent years. He always based his conclusions on a sound logical point. He was an accurate thinker, who refused to form his judgments on light, faulty and inaccurate newspaper paragraphs about what was going on around him. He was opposed to Pitt and his supporters' policy of carrying on war with France. He wanted peace, but they wanted the Bourbons, because the Bourbon section in France and the old autocracy in his own and other kingly countries were opposed to the new ruler the masses in France had chosen. He ridiculed the folly of our mental nonentities for "making such a fuss about acknowledging the new Emperor. May not the people give their own Magistrate the name they choose?" he asks. "On what logical grounds did we claim the right to revoke by the force of arms the selection by the French people of a ruler on whom they wished to bestow the title of Emperor?" Fox poured lavishly his withering contempt on those miscreants who arrogantly claimed the right to be consulted (for that is practically what their war policy amounted to) as to who the French should put on the throne and what his title should be. They had acknowledged Napoleon in the capacity of First Consul, but they shuddered at the consequences to the human race of having an Emperor sprung upon them whose glory was putting kingship into obscurity. Besides, an Emperor who combined humble origin with democratic genius and ambition created by the Revolution was a challenge to the legitimacy of the Divine Right of Kings and a reversal of the order of ages. George III raged at Pitt for including Fox in his Ministry when he was asked to form a Government. "Does Mr. Pitt," said he, "not know that Mr. Fox was of all persons most offensive to him?" "Had not Fox always cheered the popular Government of France, and had he not always advocated peace with bloodstained rebels? And be it remembered the indecorous language he had frequently used against his sovereign, and consider his influence over the Prince of Wales. Bring whom you like, Mr. Pitt, but Fox never." George III, King by the Grace of God, relented somewhat in his dislike of Fox before the latter died, and his wayward son, the Prince of Wales, said "that his father was well pleased with Mr. Fox in all their dealings after he came into office." It is an amazing form of intelligence that commits a nation to join in a war against another for having brought about a revolution and for creating their first soldier-statesman an "Emperor," and ranks him and his compatriots as "bloodstained rebels." To class Napoleon as a bloodstained rebel and to put him on a level with the Robespierres and the Dantons is an historic outrage of the truth. He had nothing whatever to do with bringing about the Revolution, though his services saved it, and out of the terrible tumult and wreck superhumanly re-created France and made her the envy of the modern world. The great defender of the Rights of Kings and of the colossal European fabric was appealed to by the man whom George III associated with the "bloodstained rebels" to come to some common understanding so that the shedding of blood might cease, but that robust advocate of peace (!) contemptuously ignored his appeals to negotiate. In 1805 he was raised to the Imperial dignity, and one of his first acts was to write with his own hand that famous letter which I have previously quoted, pleading, with majestic dignity, for the King of England, in the name of humanity, to co-operate with him in a way that will bring about friendly relations between the two Governments and the spilling of blood to an end. The King "by the Grace of God" and his horde of bloodsucking, incompetent ministers insulted the French nation and the great captain who ruled over its destinies by sending through Lord Mulgrave an insolent, hypocritical reply to the French ministers. The rage of war continued for another decade. If George III yearned for peace as he and his ministers pretended, why did the King not write a courteous autograph letter back to Napoleon, even though he regarded him as an inferior and a mere military adventurer? The nation had to pay a heavy toll in blood and money in order that the assumptions and dignity of this insensate monarch might be maintained, whose abhorrence of "bloodstained rebels" did not prevent him and his equally insensate advisers from plunging the American colonists into a bloody rebellion, which ended so gloriously for them and so disastrously for the motherland. They had asked for reforms that were palpably reasonable and necessary, and received insulting replies to their courteous demands, which compelled them to take up arms against the King of England, with a vow that they would not sheathe the sword until they had won complete independence from the arrogant autocracy that had driven them to war. They were led by the noble genius of George Washington and Dr. Franklin, who were in turn strongly supported by and united to colleagues of high constructive and administrative talents. Their task was long and fierce, but the gallant, elusive Washington led them through the tremendous struggle to victory, which culminated in founding the greatest and best constituted of all republics, whose sons are fighting side by side with the descendants of those who were forced into fighting their own race, through the maladministration of the King and his guilty Government, at the head of which was the genial but ultra-reactionary Lord North, who was a special favourite of George because he was accommodating; and indeed, all the King's friends were reactionary and dangerous to the real interests of the State when in power. The King's terrific responsibility for the great calamities that befell the country during his reign can only be absolved by the knowledge that he was subject to fits of prolonged lunacy; in fact, it may be said that even in his saner periods his acts were frequently those of an idiot. Though he cannot be accused of lacking in integrity, he disliked men who were possessed of that virtue, coupled with enlightened views, having anything to do with the government of the State. In short, he was totally unsuited to govern at any time, but especially when the atmosphere was charged with violent human convulsions. He loved lick-spittles, because they did his will for value received in various sordid forms, and, as I have said, he loathed the incorruptible and brilliant Charles James Fox, because he refused to support his fatal policies and that of the cocksparrow members of his Government, who from time to time threatened the very foundations of our national existence. The more George persisted, the louder became Fox's protests. Posterity can never accurately estimate how much it owes to statesmen who acted with Fox, but the influences the King had behind him were too formidable for Fox to grapple with. He would have saved us from the fratricidal war with America, and from the unpardonable wickedness of involving the country in the wars with France, who was fighting out her own prodigious destiny on the Continent, which was no concern of ours, except that the sane policy of the King and his Government should have been to encourage the democratizing of the Continental States. It was no love of liberty, or for the people, or for reforms of any kind, that led George III and his satellites to wage war against the man of the French Revolution. It was the fear of placing more power in the hands of the people and allowing less to remain in his own. But the main fear of the King and his autocratic subjects was lest Napoleon would become so powerful that he would destroy the whole monarchy of Europe! It was the view of small-minded men. Even Napoleon had his limitations, even if this had been his object. But there was no symptom, except that of panic, to justify the assertion that he ever intended to include war on the United Kingdom in his policy. There never was a truer statement made by the Emperor than "C'est avec des hochets qu'on mène les hommes"; which is, "Men are led by trifles." Hence we went to war with him, and the result of it is that the race that he mistrusted most and saw the necessity of keeping severely within limits has risen up against civilization and created a world-war into which we and our Allies have been obliged to enter in self-defence. That is the inevitable penalty we are having to pay for the action we took in helping the Germans to destroy France. I know it is asserted it was not France but Napoleon whose power they aimed at breaking, but the one could not be broken without the other. FOOTNOTES: [19] There are many conflicting accounts of Napoleon's part in the arrest, trial, and his intention of pardoning the Duc d'Enghien. It has been stated that he gave Murat his word that the Duc would be pardoned, and when Murat heard that the Prince had been shot, he exclaimed, "There has been treachery!" On the other hand, Bertrand was steadfast in his belief that Murat urged his immediate execution on the grounds that if it was not done at once, Napoleon would grant clemency. [20] The terms of capitulation were agreed to and signed by Ruffo, the Russian and Turkish commanders, and by Captain Foote, representing the British Government. Thirty-six hours afterwards Nelson arrived in the Bay of Naples, and cancelled the treaty. Captain Foote was sent away, and the shocking indefensible campaign of Nelson's carried out. Nothing during the whole of Napoleon's career can match this terrible act of Nelson's. [21] Italics are the author's. [22] "History du Consulat et de l'Empire," vol. xix. p. 619, published August, 1861. SEA SONGS EXPLANATORY NOTE These quaint old doggerel songs are taken from an admirable selection of sailor songs published by John Ashton. The names of the writers are not given, but their strong nautical flavour and queer composition indicate their origin. No landsman can ever imitate the sailor when the power of song or composition is on him. He puts his own funny sentiment and descriptive faculty into his work, which is exclusively his own. Many of the songs in Mr. Ashton's book I have heard sung with great fervour in my early days, by a generation of men ahead of my own, who must have long since passed away. Sometimes the audiences in the forecastle or on deck were appreciative of the efforts of the singer, but if they were not, they always had a boot or some other handy implement ready to throw at him. The reception given to some of my own singing efforts in boyhood on these merry occasions was mixed. Sometimes I forgot both words and tune, and had, therefore, to pass good-humouredly through the orthodox process of disapproval that was regarded as part of the entertainment. Any song or recital concerning Nelson, Collingwood, or the later sea hero, Charley Napier, was eminently popular, and to break down in the rendering of any one of these was an offence to their exalted memories. "The Sailor's Grave," which I regret is not included in Mr. Ashton's collection, was in great demand when the sailors were in a solemn mood. Both the words and the tune were ridiculously weird, and when it came to the details of the hero's illness, his looks after death, the sewing up in his hammock, and the tying of two round shots at his feet for sinking purposes, the artist always sang with his hands linked in front of him and his eyes cast heavenward gazing fixedly at a spot on the ceiling. Then came the burial verse:-- A splash and a plunge, and his task was o'er, And the billows rolled as they rolled before, And many a wild prayer followed the brave, As he sunk beneath a sailor's grave. This verse always drew tears from the sentimentalists in the audience, and if the singer had pleased by his efforts the song ended in a roar of tumultuous applause. I have thought it appropriate to add to these doggerel rhymes "The Battle of Copenhagen," "The Death of Nelson," and "The _Arethusa_." These are sea songs, not sailor's songs, and are of distinctly greater merit, but as two of them deal with Nelson, and as all three have always been most popular, they may not be out of place here. I THE BATTLE OF THE NILE 'Twas on the forenoon, the first day of August, One thousand seven hundred and ninety-eight, We had a long pursuit after the Toulon fleet; And soon we let them know that we came for to fight. We tried their skill, it was sore against their will, They knew not what to think of our fleet for a while, But, before the fray began, we resolved to a man, For to conquer or to die at the mouth of the Nile. When our guns began to play, with many a loud huzza, Resolving to conquer, or die, to a man, And when our sails were bending, Old England was depending, Waiting our return from the Mediterranean. Our bull dogs they did roar, and into them did pour, With rattling broadsides made brave Nelson to smile, Gallant Nelson gave command, altho' he'd but one hand, British sailors jumped for joy at the mouth of the Nile. Night drawing on, we formed a plan To set fire to one hundred and twenty guns, We selected them with skill, and into them did drill, We secured all our shipping, and laughed at the fun. About ten o'clock at night, it was a broiling fight, Which caused us to muzzle our bull dogs for a while, The _L'Orient_ blew up, and round went the cup, To the glorious memorandum at the mouth of the Nile. Kind Providence protected each minute of the night, It's more than tongue can tell, or yet a pen can write, For 'mongst the jolly tars, brave Nelson got a scar, But Providence protected him thro' that cruel fight. The French may repine, we took nine sail of the line, Burnt and sunk all but two, which escaped for a while, Brave Nelson gave command, altho' he'd but one hand, British sailors fought like lions at the mouth of the Nile. But now the battle's o'er, and Toulon's fleet's no more, Great news we shall send unto George our King, All the Kingdoms in Europe shall join us in chorus, The bells they shall ring, and bonfires they shall blaze, Rule Britannia shall be sung, through country and town, While sailors, hand in hand, round the can do sing, Bonaparte got the pledge of Europe for his wage, And he'll ne'er forget bold Nelson at the mouth of the Nile. II A NEW SONG ON LORD NELSON'S VICTORY AT COPENHAGEN Draw near, ye gallant seamen, while I the truth unfold, Of as gallant a naval victory as ever yet was told, The second day of April last, upon the Baltic Main, Parker, Nelson, and their brave tars, fresh laurels there did gain. With their thundering and roaring, rattling and roaring, Thundering and roaring bombs. Gallant Nelson volunteered himself, with twelve sail form'd a line, And in the Road of Copenhagen he began his grand design; His tars with usual courage, their valour did display, And destroyed the Danish navy upon that glorious day. With their, etc. With strong floating batteries in van and rear we find, The enemy in centre had six ships of the line; At ten that glorious morning, the fight begun, 'tis true, We Copenhagen set on fire, my boys, before the clock struck two. With their, etc. When this armament we had destroyed, we anchor'd near the town, And with our bombs were fully bent to burn their city down; Revenge for poor Matilda's wrongs, our seamen swore they'd have, But they sent a flag of truce aboard, their city for to save. With their, etc. For the loss of his eye and arm, bold Nelson does declare, The foes of his country, not an inch of them he'll spare; The Danes he's made to rue the day that they ever Paul did join, Eight ships he burnt, four he sunk, and took six of the line. With their, etc. Now drink a health to gallant Nelson, the wonder of the world, Who, in defence of his country his thunder loud has hurled; And to his bold and valiant tars, who plough the raging sea, And who never were afraid to face the daring enemy. With their thundering and roaring, rattling and roaring, Thundering and roaring bombs. III THE BATTLE OF BOULOGNE On the second day of August, eighteen hundred and one, We sailed with Lord Nelson to the port of Boulogne, For to cut out their shipping, which was all in vain, For to our misfortune, they were all moored and chained. Our boats being well mann'd, at eleven at night, For to cut out their shipping, except they would fight, But the grape from their batteries so smartly did play, Nine hundred brave seamen killed and wounded there lay. We hoisted our colours, and so boldly them did spread, With a British flag flying at our royal mast head, For the honour of England, we will always maintain, While bold British seamen plough the watery main. Exposed to the fire of the enemy she lay, While ninety bright pieces of cannon did play, Where many a brave seaman then lay in his gore, And the shot from their batteries so smartly did pour. Our noble commander, with heart full of grief, Used every endeavour to afford us relief, No ship could assist us, as well you may know, In this wounded condition, we were tossed to and fro. And you who relieve us, the Lord will you bless, For relieving poor sailors in time of distress, May the Lord put an end to all cruel wars, And send peace and contentment to all British tars. IV THE BATTLE OF TRAFALGAR Arise, ye sons of Britain, in chorus join and sing, Great and joyful news is come unto our Royal King, An engagement we have had by sea, With France and Spain, our enemy, And we've gain'd a glorious victory, Again, my brave boys. On the 21st of October, at the rising of the sun, We form'd the line for action, every man to his gun, Brave Nelson to his men did say, The Lord will prosper us this day, Give them a broadside, fire away, My true British boys. Broadside after broadside our cannon balls did fly, The small shot, like hailstones, upon the deck did lie, Their masts and rigging we shot away, Besides some thousands on that day, Were killed and wounded in the fray, On both sides, brave boys. The Lord reward brave Nelson, and protect his soul, Nineteen sail the combin'd fleets lost in the whole; Which made the French for mercy call; Nelson was slain by a musket ball. Mourn, Britons, mourn. Each brave commander, in tears did shake his head, Their grief was no relief, when Nelson he was dead; It was by a fatal musket ball, Which caus'd our hero for to fall. He cried, Fight on, God bless you all, My brave British tars. Huzza my valiant seamen, huzza, we've gain'd the day, But lost a brave Commander, bleeding on that day, With joy we've gain'd the victory, Before his death he did plainly see I die in peace, bless God, said he, The victory is won. I hope this glorious victory will bring a speedy peace, That all trade in England may flourish and increase, And our ships from port to port go free, As before, let us with them agree, May this turn the heart of our enemy. Huzza, my brave boys. V NELSON AND COLLINGWOOD Come all you gallant heroes, and listen unto me, While I relate a battle was lately fought at sea. So fierce and hot on every side, as plainly it appears, There has not been such a battle fought, no not for many years. Brave Nelson and brave Collingwood, off Cadiz harbour lay, Watching the French and Spaniards, to show them English play, The nineteenth of October from the Bay they set sail, Brave Nelson got intelligence, and soon was at their tail. It was on the twenty-first my boys, we had them clear in sight, And on that very day, at noon, began the bloody fight. Our fleet forming two columns, then he broke the enemy's line, To spare the use of signals, was Nelson's pure design. For now the voice of thunder is heard on every side, The briny waves like crimson, with human gore were dy'd; The French and Spanish heroes their courage well did show, But our brave British sailors soon brought their colours low. Four hours and ten minutes, this battle it did hold, And on the briny ocean, men never fought more bold, But, on the point of victory brave Nelson, he was slain, And, on the minds of Britons, his death will long remain. Nineteen sail of the enemy are taken and destroyed, You see the rage of Britons, our foes cannot avoid: And ages yet unborn will have this story for to tell, The twenty-first of October, our gallant Nelson fell. I hope the wives and children will quickly find relief, For the loss of those brave heroes, their hearts are filled with grief, And may our warlike officers aspire to such a fame, And revenge the death of Nelson, with his undying name. VI GIVE IT TO HIM, CHARLEY Arouse, you British sons, arouse! And all who stand to Freedom's cause, While sing of the impending wars, And England's bluff old Charley. I'll tell how British seamen brave, Of Russian foes will clear the wave, Old England's credit for to save, Led on by gallant Charley. Our gallant tars led by Napier, May bid defiance to the Bear, While hearty shouts will rend the air, With, Mind, and give it to him, Charley. Our jolly tars will have to tell, How they the Russian bears did quell, And each honest heart with pride will dwell, For our jackets blue, and Charley. For they'll never leave a blot or stain, While our British flag flies at the main, But their foes they'll thrash again and again, While led on by gallant Charley. Our gallant tars, etc. Tyrant Nicky, you may fume and boast, And with threats disturb each peaceful coast, But you reckoned have without your host, For you're no good to our tars and Charley. From our wooden walls warm pills will fly, Your boasted power for to try, While our seamen with loud shouts will cry, Let us give it to him, Charley. Our gallant tars, etc. For your cowardly tricks at Sinope Bay, Most dearly we will make you pay, For our tars will show you bonny play, While commanded by brave Charley. For tho' brave Nelson, he is dead, Our tars will be to victory led. By one brave heart we have instead, And that brave heart is Charley's. Our gallant tars, etc. England and France they will pull down The Eagle and Imperial Crown, And his Bear-like growls we soon will drown, With, Let us give it him, Charley. For while England and France go hand in hand They conquer must by sea and land, For no Russian foe can e'er withstand, So brave a man as Charley. Our gallant tars, etc. Despotic Nick, you've been too fast, To get Turkey within your grasp, But a Tartar you have caught at last, In the shape of our tars and Charley. Then here's success with three times three, To all true hearts by land or sea, And this the watchword it shall be, Mind, and give it to them, Charley. Our gallant tars led by Napier, May bid defiance to the Bear. While hearty shouts will rend the air, With, Mind, and give it to him, Charley. VII THE _ARETHUSA_ Come all ye jolly sailors bold, Whose hearts are cast in honour's mould, While England's glory I unfold, Huzza to the _Arethusa_. She is a frigate tight and brave, As ever stemmed the dashing wave; Her men are staunch To their fav'rite launch, And when the foe shall meet our fire, Sooner than strike we'll all expire, On board of the _Arethusa_. 'Twas with the spring-fleet she went out, The English Channel to cruise about, When four French sail, in show so stout, Bore down on the _Arethusa_. The fam'd _Belle Poule_ straight ahead did lie, The _Arethusa_ seem'd to fly, Not a sheet, or a tack, Or a brace did she slack, Tho' the Frenchman laugh'd, and thought it stuff, But they knew not the handful of men, so tough, On board of the _Arethusa_. On deck five hundred men did dance, The stoutest they could find in France, We, with two hundred, did advance On board of the _Arethusa_. Our captain hail'd the Frenchman, ho! The Frenchman then cried out, hallo! "Bear down, d'ye see To our Admiral's lee." "No, no," said the Frenchman, "that can't be"; "Then I must lug you along with me," Says the saucy _Arethusa_. The fight was off the Frenchman's land, We forc'd them back upon their strand; For we fought till not a stick would stand Of the gallant _Arethusa_. And now we've driven the foe ashore, Never to fight with Britons more, Let each fill a glass To his favourite lass! A health to our captain, and officers true, And all that belong to the jovial crew, On board of the _Arethusa_. VIII COPENHAGEN Of Nelson and the North, Sing the day, When, their haughty powers to vex, He engaged the Danish decks; And with twenty floating wrecks Crowned the fray. All bright, in April's sun, Shone the day, When a British fleet came down Through the island of the Crown, And by Copenhagen town Took their stay. In arms the Danish shore Proudly shone; By each gun the lighted brand In a bold determined hand, And the Prince of all the land Led them on. For Denmark here had drawn All her might; From her battleships so vast She had hewn away the mast, And at anchor, to the last Bade them fight. Another noble fleet Of their line Rode out; but these were nought To the batteries which they brought, Like Leviathans afloat In the brine. It was ten of Thursday morn By the chime; As they drifted on their path There was silence deep as death, And the noblest held his breath For a time-- Ere a first and fatal round Shook the flood. Every Dane looked out that day. Like the red wolf on his prey, And he swore his flag to sway O'er our blood. Not such a mind possessed England's tar; 'Twas the love of noble game Set his oaken heart on flame, For to him 'twas all the same, Sport and war. All hands and eyes on watch As they keep; By their motion light as wings, By each step that haughty springs, You might know them for the kings Of the deep. 'Twas the _Edgar_ first that smote Denmark's line As her flag the foremost soared, Murray stamped his foot on board, And an hundred cannons roared At the sign. Three cheers of all the fleet Sung Huzza! Then from centre, rear, and van, Every captain, every man, With a lion's heart began To the fray. Oh, dark grew soon the heavens-- For each gun, From its adamantine lips, Spread a death-shade round the ships, Like a hurricane eclipse Of the sun. Three hours the raging fire Did not slack; But the fourth, their signals drear Of distress and wreck appear, And the Dane a feeble cheer Sent us back. The voice decayed; their shots Slowly boom. They ceased--and all is wail, As they strike the shattered sail, Or in conflagration pale Light the gloom. Oh, death--it was a sight Filled our eyes! But we rescued many a crew From the waves of scarlet hue, Ere the cross of England flew O'er her prize. Why ceased not here the strife, Oh, ye brave? Why bleeds old England's band By the fire of Danish land, That smites the very hand Stretched to save? But the Britons sent to warn Denmark's town: Proud foes, let vengeance sleep! If another chain-shot sweep-- All your navy in the deep Shall go down. Then, peace instead of death Let us bring! If you'll yield your conquered fleet, With the crews, at England's feet, And make submission meet To our King. The Dane returned, a truce Glad to bring: He would yield his conquered fleet, With the crews, at England's feet, And make submission meet To our King. Then death withdrew his pall From the day; And the sun looked smiling bright On a wide and woeful sight Where the fires of funeral light Died away. Yet, all amidst her wrecks And her gore, Proud Denmark blest our chief That he gave her wounds relief, And the sounds of joy and grief Filled her shore. All round, outlandish cries Loudly broke; But a nobler note was rung When the British, old and young, To their bands of music sung "Hearts of Oak." Cheer! cheer! from park and tower, London town! When the King shall ride in state From St. James's royal gate, And to all his peers relate Our renown. The bells shall ring! the day Shall not close, But a glaze of cities bright Shall illuminate the night, And the wine-cup shine in light As it flows. Yes--yet amid the joy And uproar, Let us think of them that sleep Full many a fathom deep All beside thy rocky steep, Elsinore! Brave hearts, to Britain's weal Once so true! Though death has quenched your flame, Yet immortal be your name! For ye died the death of fame With Riou. Soft sigh the winds of Heaven O'er your grave! While the billow mournful rolls And the mermaid's song condoles, Singing--glory to the souls Of the brave. IX THE DEATH OF NELSON O'er Nelson's tomb, with silent grief oppressed, Britannia mourns her hero now at rest; But those bright laurels will not fade with years, Whose leaves are watered by a nation's tears. 'Twas in Trafalgar's bay We saw the Frenchmen lay, Each heart was bounding then, We scorn'd the foreign yoke, For our ships were British oak, And hearts of oak our men! Our Nelson mark'd them on the wave, Three cheers our gallant seamen gave, Nor thought of home and beauty. Along the line this signal ran, England expects that ev'ry man This day will do his duty. And now the cannons roar Along th' affrighted shore, Our Nelson led the way, His ship the _Victory_ nam'd! Long be that _Victory_ fam'd, For vict'ry crown'd the day! But dearly was that conquest bought, Too well the gallant hero fought, For England, home, and beauty. He cried as 'midst the fire he ran, "England shall find that ev'ry man, This day will do his duty!" At last the fatal wound, Which spread dismay around, The hero's breast received; "Heaven fights upon our side! The day's our own!" he cried; "Now long enough I've lived! In honour's cause my life was passed, In honour's cause I fall at last, For England, home, and beauty." Thus ending life as he began, England confessed that every man That day had done his duty. APPENDIX SOME INCIDENTS OF NELSON'S LIFE (_Chronologically arranged_) 1758. On 29th September he was born. 1767. On 26th December his mother died. 1771. On 1st January a Midshipman aboard the _Raisonable_. 1771. On 22nd May sent a voyage in merchant ship to West Indies, possibly as cabin-boy. 1772. On 19th July was Midshipman on _Triumph_. 1773. On 7th May was Midshipman on _Carcass_. 1773. On 15th October was Midshipman on _Triumph_. 1773. On 27th October was Midshipman on _Seahorse_. 1774. On 5th April becomes Able Seaman on _Seahorse_. 1775. On 31st October is again Midshipman on _Seahorse_. 1776. On 15th March becomes Midshipman on _Dolphin_. 1776. On 24th September is paid off from _Dolphin_. 1776. On 26th September becomes Acting-Lieutenant on _Worcester_. 1777. On 9th April passed examination. 1777. On 10th April is Lieutenant of _Lowestoft_. 1778. On 2nd July changes to Lieutenant of _Bristol_. 1778. On 8th December is appointed Commander of _Badger_. 1779. On 10th June is made Captain of _Hinchinbroke_. 1780. In January joins expedition to San Juan and Grenada, Nicaragua. 1780. On 2nd May he is made Captain of the _Janus_. 1780. On 1st September is invalided from _Janus_. 1780. On 4th September sailed in the _Lion_ for home 1780. On 24th November arrived at Spithead and went to Bath. 1781. On 23rd August he became Captain of _Albemarle_. 1782. On 17th April sailed in _Albemarle_ to North America. 1783. On 3rd July paid off from _Albemarle_. 1783. On 23rd October visited France. 1784. On 17th January back in England. 1784. On 18th March Captain of _Boreas_. 1784. On 15th May at Leeward Islands in _Boreas_. 1787. On 12th March married Widow Nesbit. 1787. On 4th July arrived Spithead in _Boreas_. 1787. On 30th November paid off, put on half pay, and resided mainly at Burnham Thorpe while on shore. 1793. On 26th January joined _Agamemnon_ as Captain. 1793. On 6th June sailed for the Mediterranean. 1793. On 13th July blockaded Toulon. 1793. On 24th August Toulon is occupied and _Agamemnon_ is ordered to Naples. A very full year's work. 1794. On 4th April, Siege of Bastia begun. 1794. On 22nd May, Bastia surrendered: 1794. On 19th June, Siege of Calvi. 1794. On 10th July wounded in the right eye. 1794. On 10th August, Calvi surrendered. 1795. On 13th March Hotham's first action. 1795. On 13th July Hotham's second action. 1795. On 15th July sent with a squadron to co-operate with the Austrians on the coast of Genoa. 1795. On 29th November Sir John Jervis took command of fleet. 1796. On 4th April he is ordered to hoist a distinguishing pennant. 1796. On 4th June shifted his broad pennant to the _Captain_. 1796. On 11th August appointed Commodore of the first class. 1796. On 10th December joined the _Minerva_. 1796. On 20th December captured the Spanish frigate _La Sabina_. 1797. On 13th February rejoined the _Captain_. 1797. On 14th December joined the _Irresistible_ at the BATTLE OF ST. VINCENT. 1797. On 20th December is Rear-Admiral of the Blue. 1797. On 17th March was created Knight of the Bath. 1797. On 24th March joined the _Captain_ again. 1797. On 1st April news of his promotion. 1797. On 24th May hoisted his flag on _Theseus_. 1797. On 24th July his right arm badly wounded while leading attack on Santa Cruz, which was repulsed. Arm amputated. 1797. On 20th August joins _Seahorse_, bound for England. 1797. On 1st September arrived at Spithead, lowers his flag, and proceeds to Bath to recoup his health. 1797. On 27th September has the Order of the Bath conferred on him. 1798. On 29th March joined the _Vanguard_. 1798. On 30th April arrived off Cadiz. 1798. On 7th June Troubridge reinforces Nelson's squadron of observation by adding ten sail of the line. 1798. On 17th June is off Naples in search of the French fleet. 1798. On 18th June, arrives off Alexandria. 1798. August 1st and 2nd, BATTLE OF THE NILE. 1798. On 22nd September arrives at Naples and is received with great rejoicing. On the 29th Sir William and Lady Hamilton give a grand fête in honour of him. The great battle establishes his fame as the greatest Admiral in the world. 1798. On 6th November he is created Baron Nelson of the Nile and Burnham Thorpe. 1798. On 23rd December he sailed for Palermo with the King of Naples and his family aboard. 1798. On 26th December arrives at Palermo and is much gratified by his reception as a popular hero. 1799. On 5th April he changed his flag from blue to red. 1799. On 8th June joins the _Foudroyant_. 1799. On 24th June arrives off Naples and cancels the agreement of capitulation of the forts. 1799. On 29th June has the aged Admiral Prince Carraciolo hung at the _Minerva's_ fore yardarm at the instigation of Lady Hamilton and the royal profligates of Naples. This act remains a blot on his name. 1799. July 13th to 19th disobeyed Admiral Keith's orders to proceed to Minorca. 1799. On 29th July becomes Commander-in-Chief in the Mediterranean. 1799. On 8th August returns again to Palermo. 1799. On 13th August he is created Duke of Bronte. 1799. On 5th October sails for Port Mahon, Minorca. 1799. On 22nd October again returns to Palermo. 1800. On 6th January is officially notified that Lord Keith is reappointed to command in Mediterranean, which gives him offence. 1800. On 18th February he captures _Le Généreux_. 1800. On 30th March also captures _Le Guillaume Tell_. 1800. On 13th July hauls his flag down at Leghorn and proceeds home, visiting Trieste, Vienna, Dresden, and Hamburg. Is received everywhere as a monarch. 1800. On 6th November he arrives at Yarmouth. 1801. On 1st January becomes Vice-Admiral of the Blue. 1801. On 13th January he is separated from his wife. 1801. On 17th January hoists his flag on the _San Josef_. 1801. On 29th January Lady Hamilton gives birth to his daughter Horatia. 1801. On 12th February joins the _St. George_. 1801. On 12th March sails from Yarmouth Roads for the Sound. 1801. On 29th March joins the _Elephant_. 1801. On 2nd April the BATTLE OF COPENHAGEN. He again rejoins the _St. George_. 1801. On 5th May appointed Commander-in-Chief in the Baltic. 1801. On 22nd May is created Viscount Nelson of the Nile and Burnham Thorpe. 1801. On 19th June resigns command and sails in the brig _Kite_ for Yarmouth, where he arrives on July 1st. 1801. On 2nd July is appointed Commander-in-Chief of the squadron defending the South-East Coast. 1801. On 16th August attacked Boulogne flotilla unsuccessfully. 1802. On 10th April hauled his flag down and took up his residence at Merton. 1802. On 26th April his father died. 1803. On 6th April his friend, Sir William Hamilton, died in Emma's arms. 1803. 16th May, Commander-in-Chief again in the Mediterranean. 1803. On 20th May sailed from Spithead in _Victory_. 1803. On 21st May his flag shifted to the _Amphion_. 1803. On 8th July arrives off Toulon. 1803. On 30th July rejoins the _Victory_ and keeps up a steady blockade of Toulon until April 1805, and is troubled in body and soul. 1804. On 23rd April Vice-Admiral of WHITE SQUADRON. 1804. On 18th August death of his aversion, the immortal Admiral La Touche-Treville. 1805. On 17th January the French fleet sailed from Toulon, and falling in with stormy weather, their ships were disabled and put back for repairs. 1805. On 8th February Nelson arrives off Alexandria in search of French. 1805. On 9th March is off Toulon again, and 1805. On 1st April is in Pula Roads. 1805. On 4th April gets news that the Frenchmen have sailed again from Toulon, on the 30th April. 1805. On 4th May came to anchor at Tetuan. 1805. On 9th May came to anchor in Lagos Bay. 1805. On 11th May sailed for the West Indies. 1805. On 4th June arrived at Barbadoes. 1805. On 7th June arrived at Trinidad. 1805. On 12th June arrived off Antigua. 1805. On 13th June sails for Europe in search of the elusive French fleet. 1805. On 18th July joins Collingwood off Cadiz. 1805. On 15th August joins Cornwallis off Brest. 1805. On 18th August arrived at Spithead; joins Lady Hamilton and his little girl Horatia at Merton. 1805. On 13th September having heard from Captain Blackwood, who visited him at Merton, that the French fleet were at Cadiz, he prepares to leave Merton. 1805. On 15th September joins the _Victory_ and sails from Spithead. 1805. On 25th September joins British fleet off Cadiz. 1805. On 21st October, BATTLE OF TRAFALGAR and death of Nelson. 1806. On 9th January buried in St. Paul's Cathedral. INDEX Aboukir Bay, battle of (_see_ Nile, battle of the) Addington, Charles, 104 Alexander of Russia, 310, 321, 322 _Arethusa_, The (poem), 352 Armada, Spanish, 39 _et seq._, 43, 59 Asquith, H.H., 297, 303 Astley, Sir Jacob, 131, 134 Balfour, A.J., 303 Ball, Captain, 153, 154, 158, 160 Barham, Lord, 215 Bathurst, Lord, 295 Beatty, Admiral, 64 Bendero, Don Pedro, 47 Beresford, Lord Charles, 52 Bernsdorf, Count, 320 Berry, Captain. 66 Bertheur, General, 308 Blackett, Mr., 262 Blackwood, Captain, 210, 232, 235, 236, 237 Blake, Admiral, 134 Bonaparte, Caroline, 292 Bonaparte, Elisa, 292 Bonaparte, Jerome, 292 Bonaparte, Joseph, 144, 169, 292 Bonaparte, Louis, 292 Bonaparte, Napoleon (_see_ Napoleon) Bonaparte, Pauline, 293 Boulogne, battle of (sea song), 343 Brereton, General, 198, 199, 203, 207 Burleigh, Cecil, Lord (_see_ Cecil) Byng, Admiral Sir John, 161, 267 Cadiz, Drake's attacks on, 32, 39, 58 Cadogan, Mrs., 210 Calais, Armada at, 41 Calder, Sir Robert, 206, 208, 222 _et seq._, 267, 268 Calvi, siege of, 64 Campbell, Sir John, 108 Campbell-Bannerman, Sir Henry, 301 Canning, 180 Capua, siege of, 139 Carlile, Christopher, 48, 51, 54 Carlscrona, Hyde Parker's departure to, 95 Carlyle, Thomas, 69, 78 Caroline (_see_ Naples, Queen of) Carraciolli, Prince, 118 _et seq._, 161, 279 Carribean Sea, Drake visits, 54 Carthagena, Drake's attacks on, 32, 54 Castlereagh, Lord, 180, 211, 295, 301, 303, 321 Caulaincourt, 310 Cecil, Lord, of Burleigh, 27, 32, 44, 58 Champernowne, Sir Arthur, 32 Championnet, General, 147 Cobham, Thomas, 32 Collingwood, Admiral Lord, 31, 63, 64, 83, 84, 134, 193, 200, 203, 204, 210, 229, 235, 237, 238, 243, 245 _et seq._, 257 _et seq._ Columbus, Christopher, 51, 53 Columbus, Diego, 51 Copenhagen, battle of, 89, 91 Copenhagen, battle of (sea-song), 340 Copenhagen (poem), 354 Corday, Charlotte, 141 Corunna, Drake's attack on, 39 Croker, J.W., 115 Cromwell, Oliver, 130, 133, 134, 237 Danton, 141 Davis, Sir John, 17 Death of Nelson (poem), 360 Denmark, Prince Regent of, 320, 321 Disraeli, 302 Domingo, San (_see_ San Domingo) Dominica, Drake's arrival at, 50 Doughty, Thomas, 24, 38 Drake, Sir Francis-- as prototype, 17 and Panama, 18, 56 and Elizabeth, 20, 21, 22, 23, 43 and War Fund, 20 Portuguese Expedition, 20 death at Puerto Bello, 21, 60 on _Pelican_, 22, 43 and Doughty, 24, 38 and discipline, 24, 38 at Cadiz, 32, 39, 58 at Carthagena, 32, 54 at Corunna, 39 West Indian Expedition, 44 at Vigo, 47, 48 and Spanish Gold Fleet, 49 at Santiago, 49, 50 at Dominica, 50 at San Domingo, 51, 53 at Bahamas, 57 rescues Roanoke settlers, 57, 58 connection with East India Company, 59 Newbolt's poem on, 60 and Fleet Tradition, 63 a religious man, 134 Nelson compared with, 180 "Drake's Drum" (poem), quotation from, 60 Dresden, Electress of, 83 Dropmore manuscript, 179 Dumanoir, 244, 245, 255 East India Company, 59 Edward VII of England, 82 Electress of Dresden, 83 Elizabeth of England, 20, 21, 22, 23, 32, 34, 35, 43, 44 Elliot, Sir George, 122, 123 Emma, Lady Hamilton, 65, 73 _et seq._, 95, 97, 98 _et seq._, 118, 119, 120 _et seq._, 143, 149, 159, 160, 161, 215, 216, 226, 243 d'Enghien, Duc, 268, 276 _et seq._ Erskine, Sir James, 147 Featherstonehaugh, Sir Henry, 73 Fisher, Admiral Lord, 64, 95, 178, 180 Fitzwilliam, George, 26 Foote, Captain, 280, 281, 282 Fortescue's Dropmore MS., 179 Fox, Charles James, 282, 290, 301, 317, 318, 326, 327, 330 Francis Joseph of Austria, 312 Franklin, Benjamin, 329 Fremantle, Admiral, 208 Frobisher, Martin, 17, 40, 63, 134 George III of England, 81, 93, 296, 303, 327, 328, 329, 330, 331 George, Prince Regent (afterwards George IV), 87, 88, 96 Gilbert, Sir Humphrey, 17 "Give it to him, Charley!" (sea-song), 349 Gladstone, W.E., 301, 302 Goethe (on beauty of Lady Hamilton), 76 Graham, James, 73 Graves, Rear-Admiral, 92 Gravina, Admiral, 244 Greville, Charles, 73, 74, 80, 122 Grey, Earl, 301 Grey, Sir Edward, 297 "Gulliver's Travels," 318 Hallowell, Captain, 146, 218 Hamilton, Sir William, 65, 74, 76, 88, 100 _et seq._, 122 Hamilton, Lady (_see_ Emma, Lady Hamilton) Hardy, Captain (of the _Victory_), 92, 119, 225, 232, 235, 240, 242, 243, 251 Hart, Emily (afterwards Lady Hamilton), 73 Hawkins, Sir John, 17, 20, 26, 27, 28, 30, 31, 40, 63, 134 Heine, Heinrich, anecdote of, 311 Hood, Admiral, 72 Horatia (Nelson's daughter), 84, 87, 110 _et seq._, 219, 227, 243 Hotham, Admiral, 118 Howard, Admiral Lord, 17, 40 Inquisition, Spanish, 17, 22, 23, 34, 37 Jackson, Mr. (British representative to Denmark), 320, 324 Jellicoe, Admiral, 64 Jervis, Admiral (_see_ St. Vincent, Admiral Lord) Joseph of Austria (_see_ Francis Joseph of Austria) Joseph Bonaparte (_see_ Bonaparte, Joseph) Keats, Captain, 210 Keith, Lord, 139, 158, 160, 162 Kitchener, Lord, 178 Leslie, General, 130, 134 Louis XVIII of France, 294 Louis Philippe of France, 314 Louis, Captain, 146, 147 Lowe, Sir Hudson, 295 Lyon, Amy (afterwards Emma, Lady Hamilton), 73 Mack, General, 147 Malmesbury, Lady, 122 Malmesbury, Lord, 325 Marat, 141 Marengo, battle of, 162 Maria Carolina (_see_ Naples, Queen of) Marie Louise of Austria, 107, 170 Marlborough, Duke of, 104, 105 Marmont, General, 308 Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots, 26 Mary Tudor, Queen of England, 35 Medina-Sidonia, Duke of, 19, 40, 41 Melbourne, Lord, 107 Meneval, Baron de, 171 Milas, General, 162 Minto, Lord, 103, 104, 155, 159, 209, 210, 217 Moreau, 276 Mulgrave, Lord, 328 Müller (Swiss historian), 287 Murat, 145, 169 Naples, Ferdinand, King of, 120, 128, 129, 140, 144, 145, 146, 147, 163 _et seq._ Naples, Maria Carolina, Queen of, 77, 79, 118, 129, 148, 162, 163 _et seq._, 260 Napoleon Bonaparte-- and Prussianism, 69, 298 aphorisms, 71, 131, 134, 205, 291, 314 comparison with Nelson, 94 and Marie Louise, 107, 170 his opinion of Nelson, 118 his opinion of Wellington, 117 Cromwell compared with, 133 and the French fleet, 191 and Villeneuve, 199, 264, 265, 266, 267, 268 and Madame Walewska, 217 comparison of his love letters with Nelson's, 218 his "Farewell to France" (poem), 274 as a statesman, 132, 133, 275 and plots against his life, 276 and Pitt, 287 _et seq._, 304 Müller's opinion of, 287 Wieland's opinion of, 288 and his family, 292 his return from Elba, 294 his letter to George III, 296 his son's death, 308 and Alexander of Russia, 310 and Treaty of Tilsit, 310 compared with William II of Germany, 313 contemporaneous testimony, 315 _et seq._ Neipperg, Count, 170 Nelson, Rev. Edmund, 64 Nelson, Horatia (_see_ Horatia) Nelson, Horatio, Admiral Lord-- and contemporary admiration, 31 and Fleet Tradition, 63 joins _Raisonable_, 64 joins _Triumph_, 64 joins _Agamemnon_, 64 loses right eye at siege of Calvi, 64 loses right arm at Santa Cruz, 65 created K.C.B., 65 at the court of Naples, 65, 76 _et seq._, 141 _et seq._, 163 _et seq._ at the Nile, 66 created Baron, 72 and gambling scandal, 80, 150 returns home after Nile, 81 and Lady Hamilton, 65, 73, 76 _et seq._, 95, 97, 98 _et seq._, 159, 210 _et seq._, 215, 216, 228, 231 at battle of Copenhagen, 91, compared with Napoleon, 94, 218 joins _St. George_, 95 returns home in _Kite_, 98 at Merton, 100, 210 _et seq._ letter to his niece, 111 incident of gipsy's prediction, 114 and Carraciolli, _118 et seq._, 279 hatred of the French, 135, 173 at Toulon, 136 at Palermo, 149 and starvation of Neapolitans, 151 and "cracking on," 155 as "Duke of Thunder," 167, 172 homecoming _via_ Magdeburg and Hamburg, 176 and Ministers of State, 139, 174, 180 _et seq._, 210 _et seq._ and privateering, 181 sails to West Indies, 197 returns to England, 207 gift of coffin to, 218 joins _Victory_, 220 and Calder, 221 _et seq._ at Trafalgar, 225 _el seq._ last letters, 226, 228, 231 last prayer before battle, 231 death in action, 240, 242 _et seq._ the nation's sorrow, 256 _et seq._ Collingwood, compared with, 261 chronological data, 363 Nelson and Collingwood (sea-song), 347 Nelson, Lady, 78, 84, 85, 86, 88 Newbolt, Sir H., 60 Nile, Battle of the, 66 _et seq._ Nile, Battle of the (sea-song), 337 North, Lord, 329 Norton, Hon. Mrs., 108 O'Meara, Dr., 265, 295 Oquendo, 42 Orange, _William the Silent_, Prince of, 34 Orde, Sir John, 184, 185, 195, 196, 203 Pahlen, Count, 97 Parker, Sir Hyde, 89, 90, 91, 92, 184 Parma, Duke of, 42 Pasco, _Yeoman of Signals_, 235 Paul of Russia, 97 Philip of Spain, 17, 18, 26, 28, 32, 34, 36, 37, 40, 41, 42 Pichegru, 276 Pitt, William, 134, 213, 287, 289, 290, 296, 298, 299, 301, 303, 344, 318, 326, 327 Poems, 60, 274, 337 Pole, Sir Charles, 98 Radstock, Lord, 213, 214, 259 Raleigh, Sir Walter, 57 Recaldo, 42 Riou, Captain, 91 Roanoke, settlers of, rescue by Drake, 57, 58 Robespierre, 141 Rome, King of, 308 Romney, George, 73 Rosebery, Lord, 301 Rotherham, Captain, 237, 238 Ruffo, Cardinal, 286 Salisbury, Lord, 302 San Domingo, Drake's attack on, 32, 51, 53 San Philip, 58 Santa Cruz, action at, 65 Santa Cruz, Admiral, 18, 37, 39, 41 Santiago, Drake's attack on, 49, 50 Sardanapalus, 141 Scott, Dr., 243 Sea Songs, 333 Seymour, Admiral Lord, 40 Sidmouth, Lord, 221 Smith, Sir Sydney, 174 Southey, Robert, 128, 174 Strachan, Sir Richard, 245, 255 St. George, Mrs., 123 St. Vincent, battle of Cape, 65 St. Vincent, Earl, 63, 64, 65, 78, 92, 98, 174, 184, 185, 234 Suckling, Captain Maurice, 64 Thiers, M., 191, 305 Thurn, Count, 119 Tierny, 301 Touche-Treville, Admiral la, 136, 137 Trafalgar, battle of, 43, 225 _et seq._ Trafalgar, Battle of (sea-song), 345 Troubridge, Admiral, 80, 98, 140, 141, 142, 143, 146, 151, 158, 159, 233, 234 Ulloa, San Juan d', catastrophe of, 26 Valdes, Don Pedro de, 19 Verde, Cape de, pursuit of Spanish to, 48 Vigo, Drake's attack on, 47, 48 Villeneuve, Admiral, 116, 189, 190, 199, 200, 206, 210, 225, 229, 244, 259, 264, 265, 266, 267, 268 Walewska, Madame, 217 Washington, George, 329 Wellington, Duke of, 39, 114, 295 Wieland (German historian), 287, 288 William II of Germany, 52, 311, 313 WORKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR WINDJAMMERS AND SEA TRAMPS SEA YARNS (FORMERLY ENTITLED "THE SHELLBACK'S PROGRESS IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY") LOOKING SEAWARD AGAIN THE TRAGEDY OF ST. HELENA CHARACTER SKETCHES 
40958	----	generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) THE SEAMAN'S FRIEND; CONTAINING A TREATISE ON PRACTICAL SEAMANSHIP, WITH PLATES, A DICTIONARY OF SEA TERMS; CUSTOMS AND USAGES OF THE MERCHANT SERVICE; LAWS RELATING TO THE PRACTICAL DUTIES OF MASTER AND MARINERS. BY R. H. DANA, JR., AUTHOR OF "TWO YEARS BEFORE THE MAST." FIFTH EDITION. BOSTON: PUBLISHED BY THOMAS GROOM. 1847. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1841, BY R. H. DANA, JR., in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts. STEREOTYPED BY GEO. A. & J. CURTIS, NEW-ENGLAND TYPE AND STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY. Transcriber's Note: Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. Irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have been retained as printed. The cover of this book was created by the transcriber and is hereby placed in the public domain. To all sea-faring persons, and especially to those commencing the sea life;--to owners and insurers of vessels;--to judges and practitioners in maritime law;--and to all persons interested in acquainting themselves with the laws, customs, and duties of Seamen;--this work is respectfully dedicated by THE AUTHOR. CONTENTS. PART I. A PLAIN TREATISE ON PRACTICAL SEAMANSHIP. CHAP. I.--GENERAL RULES AND OBSERVATIONS, pages 13--18. Construction of vessels, 13. Tonnage and carriage of merchant vessels, 14. Proportions of spars, 14. Placing the masts, 16. Size of anchors and cables, 16. Lead-lines, 17. Log-line, 17. Ballast and lading, 18. CHAP. II.--CUTTING AND FITTING STANDING RIGGING, 19--25. Cutting lower rigging, 19. Fitting lower rigging, 20. Cutting and fitting topmast rigging, 21. Jib, topgallant and royal rigging, 21. Ratling, 23. Standing rigging of the yards, 23. Breast-backstays, 25. CHAP. III.--FITTING AND REEVING RUNNING RIGGING, 26--29. To reeve a brace, 26. Fore, main, and cross-jack braces, 26. Fore and main topsail braces, 26. Mizzen topsail braces, 27. Fore, main, and mizzen topgallant and royal braces, 27. Halyards, 27. Spanker brails, 28. Tacks, sheets, and clewlines, 28. Reef-tackles, clew-garnets, buntlines, leechlines, bowlines, and slablines, 29. CHAP. IV.--TO RIG MASTS AND YARDS, 30--36. Taking in lower masts and bowsprit, 30. To rig a bowsprit, 31. To get the tops over the mast-heads, 31. To send up a topmast, 31. To get on a topmast cap, 32. To rig out a jib-boom, 32. To cross a lower yard, 33. To cross a topsail yard, 33. To send up a topgallant mast, 34. Long, short, and stump topgallant masts, 34. To rig out a flying jib-boom, 34. To cross a topgallant yard, 35. To cross a royal yard, 35. Skysail yards, 35. CHAP. V.--TO SEND DOWN MASTS AND YARDS, 36--38. To send down a royal yard, 36. To send down a topgallant yard, 37. To send down a topgallant mast, 37. To house a topgallant mast, 37. To send down a topmast, 37. To rig in a jib-boom, 38. CHAP. VI.--BENDING AND UNBENDING SAILS, 38--42. To bend a course, 38. To bend a topsail by the halyards, 39;--by the buntlines, 40. To bend topgallant sails and royals, 40. To bend a jib, 40. To bend a spanker, 41. To bend a spencer, 41. To unbend a course, 41. To unbend a topsail, 41. To unbend a topgallant sail or royal, 41. To unbend a jib, 41. To send down a topsail or course in a gale of wind, 42. To bend a topsail in a gale of wind, 42. To bend one topsail or course and send down the other at the same time, 42. CHAP. VII.--WORK UPON RIGGING. ROPE, KNOTS, SPLICES, BENDS, HITCHES, 43--53. Yarns, strands, 43. Kinds of rope--cable-laid, hawser-laid, 43. Spunyarn, 44. Worming, parcelling, and service, 44. Short splice, 44. Long splice, 45. Eye splice, 45. Flemish eye, 45. Artificial eye, 46. Cut splice, 46. Grommet, 46. Single and double walls, 46. Matthew Walker, 47. Single and double diamonds, 47. Spritsail sheet knot, 47. Stopper knot, 47. Shroud and French shroud knots, 48. Buoy-rope knot, 48. Turk's head, 48. Two half-hitches, clove hitch, overhand knot, and figure-of-eight, 48. Standing and running bowlines, and bowline upon a bight, 49. Square knot, 49. Timber hitch, rolling hitch, and blackwall hitch, 49. Cat's paw, 50. Sheet bend, fisherman's bend, carrick bend, and bowline bend, 50. Sheep-shank, 50. Selvagee, 50. Marlinspike hitch, 50. To pass a round seizing, 51. Throat seizing, 51. Stopping and nippering, 51. Pointing, 51. Snaking and grafting, 52. Foxes, Spanish foxes, sennit, French sennit, gaskets, 52. To bend a buoy-rope, 52. To pass a shear-lashing, 52. CHAP. VIII.--BLOCKS AND PURCHASES, 53--55. Parts of a block, made and morticed blocks, 53. Bull's-eye, dead-eye, sister-block, 53. Snatch-block, tail-blocks, 54. Tackles--whip, gun-tackle, luff-tackle, luff-upon-luff, runner-tackle, watch-tackle, tail-tackle, and burtons, 54. CHAP. IX.--MAKING AND TAKING IN SAIL, 55--67. To loose a sail, 55. To set a course, 55. To set a topsail, 56. To set a topgallant sail or royal, 56. To set a skysail, 56. To set a jib, flying jib, or fore topmast staysail, 56. To set a spanker, 57. To set a spencer, 57. To take in a course, 57. To take in a topsail, 57. To take in a topgallant sail or royal, 58. To take in a skysail, 58. To take in a jib, 58. To take in a spanker, 58. To furl a royal, 59. To furl a topgallant sail, 60. To furl a topsail or course, 60. To furl a jib, 60. To stow a jib in cloth, 61. To reef a topsail, 61. To reef a course, 62. To turn out reefs, 63. To set a topgallant studdingsail, 63. To take in a topgallant studdingsail, 64. To set a topmast studdingsail, 65. To take in a topmast studdingsail, 66. To set a lower studdingsail, 66. To take in a lower studdingsail, 67. CHAP. X.--GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF WORKING A SHIP, 68--71. Action of the water upon the rudder; headway, sternway, 68. Action of the wind upon the sails; head sails, after sails, 69. Centre of gravity or rotation, 70. Turning a ship to or from the wind, 70. CHAP. XI.--TACKING, WEARING, BOXING, &C., 71--77. To tack a ship, 71. To tack without fore-reaching, 73. Tacking against a heavy head sea, 73. Tacking by hauling off all, 73. To trim the yards when close-hauled, 73. Missing stays, 74. Wearing, 74. To wear under courses, under a mainsail, under bare poles, 75. Box-hauling, 75. Short-round, 76. Club-hauling, 76. Drifting in a tide way, 76. Backing and filling in a tide-way, 77. Clubbing in a tide-way, 77. CHAP. XII.--GALES OF WIND, LYING-TO, GETTING ABACK, BY THE LEE, &C., 78--81. Lying-to, 78. Scudding, 79. To heave-to after scudding, 79. Taken aback, 79. Chappelling, 80. Broaching-to, 80. Brought by the lee, 80. CHAP. XIII.--ACCIDENTS, 81--84. On beam-ends, 81. Losing a rudder, 82. A squall, 83. A man overboard, 83. Collision, 84. CHAP. XIV.--HEAVING-TO BY COUNTER-BRACING, SPEAKING, SOUNDING, HEAVING THE LOG, 84--87. Counter-bracing, 84. Speaking, 85. Sounding, 85. Heaving the log, 86. CHAP. XV.--COMING TO ANCHOR, 87--90. Getting ready for port, 87. Mooring, 88. A flying moor, 89. Clearing hawse, 89. To anchor with a slip-rope, 89. To slip a cable, 90. Coming-to at a slipped cable, 90. CHAP. XVI.--GETTING UNDER WAY, 91--95. Unmoor, 91. To get under way from a single anchor, 91. To cat and fish an anchor, 92. To get under way with the wind blowing directly out and riding head to it, 92. To get under way, riding head to the wind, with a rock or shoal close astern, 93. To get under way riding head to wind and tide, and to stand out close-hauled, 93. To get under way wind-rode, with a weather tide, 94. To get under way tide-rode, casting to windward, 94. To get under way tide-rode, wearing round, 94. A DICTIONARY OF SEA TERMS, 96--130. PART II. CUSTOMS AND USAGES OF THE MERCHANT SERVICE. CHAP. I.--THE MASTER, 131--138. Beginning of the voyage, 131. Shipping the crew, 132. Outfit, provisions, 132. Watches, 133. Navigation, 134. Log-book, observations, 134. Working ship, 135. Day's work, 136. Discipline, 137. CHAP. II.--THE CHIEF MATE, 138--146. Care of rigging and ship's furniture, 138. Day's work, 139. Working ship, 139. Getting under way, 139. Coming to anchor, 140. Reefing and furling, 140. Duties in port, account of cargo, stowage, 141. Station, watch, and all-hands duties, 142. Log-book, navigation, 145. CHAP. III.--SECOND AND THIRD MATES, 146--153. Second Mate.--Navigation, 146. Station; watch duties, 147. Day's work, 147, 149. Working ship, 148, 150. Reefing, furling, and duties aloft, 148. Care of ship's furniture, 151. Stores, 151. Duties in port, 152. Third Mate, 152, 153. CHAP. IV.--CARPENTER, COOK, STEWARD, &C., 153--158. Carpenter.--Working ship, 153. Seaman's work, helm, duty aloft, station, 154. Work at his trade, 154. Berth and mess, 154. Standing watch, 154. Sailmaker 155. Steward.--Duty in passenger-ships, 156. In other vessels, 156. Relation to master and mate; duty aloft and about decks; working ship, 156. Cook.--Berth, watch and all-hands duty; care of galley; duty aloft, 157. Idlers, 157. CHAP V.--ABLE SEAMEN, 158--163. Grades, 158. Rating, 158. Requisites of an able seaman, 159. Hand, reef, and steer, 159. Work upon rigging, 160. Sailmaking, 160. Day's work, 160. Working ship; reefing; furling, 161. Watch duty, 162. Coasters and small vessels, 162. CHAP. VI.--ORDINARY SEAMEN, 163--165. Requisites, 163. Hand, reef, and steer; loose, furl, and set sails; reeve rigging, 163. Work upon rigging, 164. Watch duty, 164. CHAP. VII.--BOYS, 165--167. Requisites, wages, 165. Day's work; working ship; duties aloft and about decks, 166. CHAP. VIII.--MISCELLANEOUS, 167--174. Watches, 167. Calling the watch, 168. Bells, 169. Helm, 170. Answering, 171, (at helm, 170.) Discipline, 172. Stations, 173. Food, sleep, &c., 173. PART III. LAWS RELATING TO THE PRACTICAL DUTIES OF MASTER AND MARINERS. CHAP. I.--THE VESSEL, pages 175--179. Title, 175. Registry, enrolment and license, 175. Certificate of registry or enrolment, 177. Passport, 177. Sea letter, list of crew, bill of health, clearance, manifest, invoice, bill of lading, charter-party, log-book, list of passengers and crew, list of sea-stores, 178. Medicine-chest, 178. National character of crew, 178. Provisions, 178. Passengers, 179. CHAP. II.--MASTER'S RELATION TO VESSEL AND CARGO, 179--187. Revenue duties and obligations, 179. List of crew, 179. Certified copy, 180. Certified copy of shipping articles, 180. Sea-letter, passport, list of passengers, manifest, sea-stores, 180, 181. Unloading, 180, 181. Post-office, 181. Forfeitures, 180, 181, 182. Report, 182. Coasting license, 182. Power to sell and pledge, 182. Keeping and delivering cargo, 185. Deviation, 185. Collision, 186. Pilot, 187. Wages and advances, 187. CHAP. III.--MASTER'S RELATION TO PASSENGERS AND OFFICERS, 187, 188. Treatment of passengers, 187. Removal of officers, 188. CHAP. IV.--MASTER'S RELATION TO THE CREW, 189--195. Shipment, 189. Shipping articles, 189. Discharge, 190. Imprisonment, 191. Punishment, 192. Power of consuls as to punishment, 192, 193, 194. CHAP. V.--PASSENGERS, 195, 196. Provisions, 195. Treatment, 195. Passage-money, 196. Deportment, 196. Services, 196. CHAP. VI.--MATES AND SUBORDINATES, 197--201. Mates included in 'crew,' 197. Removal, 197. Succession, 198. Log-book; wages; sickness, 198. Punishment, 199. Subordinates, 200. Pilots, 200. CHAP. VII.--SEAMEN. SHIPPING CONTRACT, 201--203. Shipping contract, 201. Erasures and interlineations, 202. Unusual stipulations, 202. Violation of contract, 202. CHAP. VIII.--SEAMEN--CONTINUED, 204--206. Rendering on board, 204. Refusal to proceed, 204. Desertion or absence during the voyage, 205. Discharge, 206. CHAP. IX.--SEAMEN--CONTINUED, 207--210. Provisions, 207. Sickness, medicine-chest, 208. Hospital money, 209. Relief in foreign ports, 209. Protection, 210. CHAP. X.--SEAMEN--CONTINUED, 210--214. Punishment, 210. Revolt and mutiny, 211. Embezzlement, 213. Piracy, 214. CHAP. XI.--SEAMEN'S WAGES, 214--220. Wages affected by desertion or absence, 214;--by misconduct, 216;--by imprisonment, 217;--by capture, 218;--by loss of vessel or interruption of voyage, 218. Wages on an illegal voyage, 220. CHAP. XII.--SEAMEN--CONCLUDED, 220--223. Recovery of wages, 220. Remedies, 221. Time for commencing suits, 222. Interest on wages, 222. Salvage, 222. [Illustration: Plate I.] PLATE I. THE SPARS AND RIGGING OF A SHIP. INDEX OF REFERENCES. 1 Head. 2 Head-boards. 3 Stem. 4 Bows. 5 Forecastle. 6 Waist. 7 Quarter-deck. 8 Gangway. 9 Counter. 10 Stern. 11 Tafferel. 12 Fore chains. 13 Main chains. 14 Mizzen chains. 15 Bowsprit. 16 Jib-boom. 17 Flying jib-boom. 18 Spritsail yard. 19 Martingale. 20 Bowsprit cap. 21 Foremast. 22 Fore topmast. 23 Fore topgallant mast. 24 Fore royal mast. 25 Fore skysail mast. 26 Main mast. 27 Main topmast. 28 Main topgallant mast. 29 Main royal mast. 30 Main skysail mast. 31 Mizzen mast. 32 Mizzen topmast. 33 Mizzen topgallant mast. 34 Mizzen royal mast. 35 Mizzen skysail mast. 36 Fore spencer gaff. 37 Main spencer gaff. 38 Spanker gaff. 39 Spanker boom. 40 Fore top. 41 Foremast cap. 42 Fore topmast cross-trees. 43 Main top. 44 Mainmast cap. 45 Main topmast cross-trees. 46 Mizzen top. 47 Mizzenmast cap. 48 Mizzen topmast cross-trees. 49 Fore yard. 50 Fore topsail yard. 51 Fore topgallant yard. 52 Fore royal yard. 53 Main yard. 54 Main topsail yard. 55 Main topgallant yard. 56 Main royal yard. 57 Cross-jack yard. 58 Mizzen topsail yard. 59 Mizzen topgallant yard. 60 Mizzen royal yard. 61 Fore truck. 62 Main truck. 63 Mizzen truck. 64 Fore stay. 65 Fore topmast stay. 66 Jib stay. 67 Fore topgallant stay. 68 Flying-jib stay. 69 Fore royal stay. 70 Fore skysail stay. 71 Jib guys. 72 Flying-jib guys. 73 Fore lifts. 74 Fore braces. 75 Fore topsail lifts. 76 Fore topsail braces. 77 Fore topgallant lifts. 78 Fore topgallant braces. 79 Fore royal lifts. 80 Fore royal braces. 81 Fore rigging. 82 Fore topmast rigging. 83 Fore topgallant shrouds. 84 Fore topmast backstays. 85 Fore topgallant backstays. 86 Fore royal backstays. 87 Main stay. 88 Main topmast stay. 89 Main topgallant stay. 90 Main royal stay. 91 Main lifts. 92 Main braces. 93 Main topsail lifts. 94 Main topsail braces. 95 Main topgallant lifts. 96 Main topgallant braces. 97 Main royal lifts. 98 Main royal braces. 99 Main rigging. 100 Main topmast rigging. 101 Main topgallant rigging. 102 Main topmast backstays. 103 Main topgallant backstays. 104 Main royal backstays. 105 Cross-jack lifts. 106 Cross-jack braces. 107 Mizzen topsail lifts. 108 Mizzen topsail braces. 109 Mizzen topgallant lifts. 110 Mizzen topgal't braces. 111 Mizzen royal lifts. 112 Mizzen royal braces. 113 Mizzen stay. 114 Mizzen topmast stay. 115 Mizzen topgallant stay. 116 Mizzen royal stay. 117 Mizzen skysail stay. 118 Mizzen rigging. 119 Mizzen topmast rigging. 120 Mizzen topgal. shrouds. 121 Mizzen topmast backstays. 122 Mizzen topgal'nt backstays. 123 Mizzen royal backstays. 124 Fore spencer vangs. 125 Main spencer vangs. 126 Spanker vangs. 127 Ensign halyards. 128 Spanker peak halyards. 129 Foot-rope to fore yard. 130 Foot-rope to main yard. 131 Foot-rope to cross-jack yard. [Illustration: Plate II.] PLATE II. A SHIP'S SAILS. INDEX OF REFERENCES. 1 Fore topmast staysail. 2 Jib. 3 Flying jib. 4 Fore spencer. 5 Main spencer. 6 Spanker. 7 Foresail. 8 Fore topsail. 9 Fore topgallant sail. 10 Fore royal. 11 Fore skysail. 12 Mainsail. 13 Main topsail. 14 Main topgallant sail. 15 Main royal. 16 Main skysail. 17 Mizzen topsail. 18 Mizzen topgallant sail. 19 Mizzen royal. 20 Mizzen skysail. 21 Lower studdingsail. 21a Lee ditto. 22 Fore topmast studdingsail. 22a Lee ditto. 23 Fore topgallant studdingsail. 23a Lee ditto. 24 Fore royal studdingsail. 24a Lee ditto. 25 Main topmast studdingsail. 25a Lee ditto. 26 Main topgallant studdingsail. 26a Lee ditto. 27 Main royal studdingsail. 27a Lee ditto. [Illustration: Plate III.] PLATE III. THE FRAME OF A SHIP. INDEX OF REFERENCES. A. THE OUTSIDE. 1 Upper stem-piece. 2 Lower stem-piece. 3 Gripe. 4 Forward keel-piece. 5 Middle keel-piece. 6 After keel-piece. 7 False keel. 8 Stern knee. 9 Stern-post. 10 Rudder. 11 Bilge streaks. 12 First streak under the wales. 13 Apron. 14 Lower apron. 15 Fore frame. 16 After frame. 17 Wales. 18 Waist. 19 Plank-shear. 20 Timber-heads. 21 Stanchions. 22 Rail. 23 Knight-heads. 24 Cathead. 25 Fashion timbers. 26 Transoms. 27 Quarter pieces. B. THE INSIDE OF THE STERN. 1 Keelson. 2 Pointers. 3 Chock. 4 Transoms. 5 Half transoms. 6 Main transom. 7 Quarter timbers. 8 Transom knees. 9 Horn timbers. 10 Counter-timber knee. 11 Stern-post. 12 Rudder-head. 13 Counter timbers. 14 Upper-deck clamp. C. THE INSIDE OF THE BOWS. 1 Keelson. 2 Pointers. 3 Step for the mast. 4 Breast-hook. 5 Lower-deck breast-hook. 6 Forward beam. 7 Upper-deck clamp. 8 Knight-heads. 9 Hawse timbers. 10 Bow timbers. 11 Apron of the stem. D. THE TIMBERS. 1 Keelson. 2 Floor timbers. 3 Naval timbers or ground futtocks. 4 Lower futtocks. 5 Middle futtocks. 6 Upper futtocks. 7 Top timbers. 8 Half timbers, or half top-timbers. PLATE IV. EXPLANATIONS. SHIP.--A ship is square-rigged throughout; that is, she has tops, and carries square sails on all three of her masts. BARK.--A bark is square-rigged at her fore and main masts, and differs from a ship in having no top, and carrying only fore-and-aft sails at her mizzenmast. BRIG.--A full-rigged brig is square-rigged at both her masts. HERMAPHRODITE BRIG.--An hermaphrodite brig is square-rigged at her foremast; but has no top, and only fore-and-aft sails at her main mast. TOPSAIL SCHOONER.--A topsail schooner has no tops at her foremast, and is fore-and-aft rigged at her mainmast. She differs from an hermaphrodite brig in that she is not properly square-rigged at her foremast, having no top, and carrying a fore-and-aft foresail, in stead of a square foresail and a spencer. FORE-AND-AFT SCHOONER.--A fore-and-aft schooner is fore-and-aft rigged throughout, differing from a topsail schooner in that the latter carries small square sails aloft at the fore. SLOOP.--A sloop has one mast, fore-and-aft rigged. HERMAPHRODITE BRIGS sometimes carry small square sails aloft at the main; in which case they are called BRIGANTINES, and differ from a FULL-RIGGED BRIG in that they have no top at the mainmast, and carry a fore-and-aft mainsail instead of a square mainsail and trysail. Some TOPSAIL SCHOONERS carry small square sails aloft at the main as well as the fore; being in other respects fore-and-aft rigged. They are then called MAIN TOPSAIL SCHOONERS. [Illustration: Plate IV. Ship Bark Full-rigged Brig Hermaphrodite Brig Top-sail Schooner Fore & aft Schooner Sloop] PART I. CHAPTER I. GENERAL RULES AND OBSERVATIONS. Construction of vessels. Tonnage and carriage of merchant vessels. Proportions of the spars. Placing the masts. Size of anchors and cables. Lead-lines. Log-line. Ballast and lading. CONSTRUCTION OF VESSELS.--As merchant vessels of the larger class are now built in the United States, the extreme length of deck, from the after part of the stern-post to the fore part of the stem, is from four and a half to four and three fourths that of the beam, at its widest part. The Damascus, of 700 tons' measurement, built at Boston in 1839, and considered a fair specimen of our best freighting vessels, had 150 feet from stem to stern-post, and 32 feet 6 inches extreme breadth. The Rajah, of 530 tons, built at Boston in 1837, had 140 feet length, and 30 feet beam;--being each in length about four and six tenths their beam. A great contrast to this proportion is exhibited in the most recent statistics (1841) of vessels of the same tonnage in the English navy; as the following table will show. Tons. Deck. Beam. Proportion. {Dido 734 120 ft. 37 ft. 6 in. 3.20 English {Pilot 492 105 33 6 3.13 Navy. {Alert 358 95 30 4 3.16 American {Damascus 694 150 32 6 4.60 Merchantmen. {Rajah 531 140 30 0 4.66 These may, perhaps, be considered the extremes of ship-building; and between these there is every grade of difference. TONNAGE AND CARRIAGE OF MERCHANT VESSELS.--The amount a vessel will carry in proportion to her tonnage, depends upon whether, and to what extent, she is full or sharp built. A sharp-built vessel of 300 tons' measurement, will carry just about her tonnage of measurement goods. A sharp-built vessel of 200 tons or under would probably carry less than her measurement; if over 400 tons, she would increase gradually to fifty per cent. above her measurement. A sharp-built vessel of 600 tons, is generally rated at 900 tons carriage. A full-built vessel of 300 tons, after the latest model of American freighting vessels, will carry 525 tons, or seventy-five per cent. above her measurement; and one of 500 tons would carry full double her measurement. The following table may give a pretty fair average. TONS OF MEASUREMENT GOODS. Tonnage. Full built. Sharp built. 300 (.75) 525 (.00) 300 400 (.80) 725 (.40) 560 500 (1.00) 1000 (.50) 750 600 (1.33) 1400 (.50) 900 PROPORTIONS OF SPARS.--There is no particular rule for sparring merchant vessels; some being light, and others heavy sparred; and some having long topmasts and short lower masts, and others the reverse. The prevailing custom now is, to spar them lightly; the main yard being a little less than double the beam; and the others proportioned by the main. Most merchant vessels now have the yards at the fore and main of the same size, for convenience in shifting sails; so that the same topsail may be bent on either yard. The following table, taken from the "Seamen's Manual," will show the average proportions of the spars of merchant vessels of the largest class, as formerly built. Main-mast, two and a half times the ship's beam. Fore-mast, eight ninths of the main-mast. Mizzen-mast, five sixths of the main-mast. Bowsprit, two thirds of the main-mast. Topmasts, three fifths of the lower masts. Topgallant masts, one half the length of their topmasts. Jib-boom, the length of the bowsprit. Main-yard, twice the beam. Fore-yard, seven eighths of the main-yard. Maintopsail-yard, two thirds of the main-yard. Foretopsail-yard, two thirds of the fore-yard. Crossjack-yard, the length of the maintopsail-yard. Topgallant-yards, two thirds of the topsail-yards. Mizzentopsail-yard, the length of the maintopgallant-yard. Royal-yards, two thirds of the topgallant-yards. Spritsail-yard, five sixths of the foretopsail-yard. Spanker-boom, the length of the maintopsail-yard. Spanker-gaff, two thirds of the boom. For the thickness of the spars, the same book allows for the lower masts one inch and a quarter diameter at the partners, for every three feet of length; and nine tenths in the middle and two thirds under the hounds, for every inch at the partners. For the yards, one inch at the slings, and half an inch at the yard-arms, within the squares, for every four feet of the length. For the breadth of the maintop, one half of the beam, and of the foretop, eight ninths of the maintop. The following are the proportions of the spars of the ship Damascus, before mentioned, built in 1839. Main-mast 74 ft. Head 11 ft. 6 in. Size 26 in. Fore-mast 70 ft. Head 11 ft. 6 in. Size 25 in. Mizzen-mast 68 ft. Head 8 ft. 6 in. Size 18 in. Main and fore topmasts 41 ft. Head 6 ft. 6 in. Size 14-1/2 in. Mizzen topmast 32 ft. Head 5 ft. Size 9-1/2 in. Main topgallant-mast 23 ft. (15 ft. with 2 feet head.) Size 9-1/2 in. Fore topgallant-mast 21 ft. 14 ft. with 2 feet head.) Size 9-1/2 in. Mizzen topgallant-mast 17 ft. 11 ft. with 18 in. with 2 feet head.) Main and fore yards 60 ft. yard-arms 2 ft. 6 in. Main and fore topsail yards 48 ft. yard-arms 3 ft. 6 in. Main topgallant yard 37 ft. yard-arms 2 ft. Fore topgallant yard 34 ft. yard-arms 2 ft. Main royal yard 27 ft. yard-arms 1 ft. 6 in. Fore royal yard 24 ft. yard-arms 1 ft. 6 in. Main skysail yard 17 ft. Fore skysail yard 15 ft. Cross-jack yard 44 ft. yard-arms 2 ft. Mizzen topsail yard 35 ft. yard-arms 2 ft. 9 in. Mizzen topgallant yard 25 ft. yard-arms 1 ft. 6 in. Mizzen royal yard 16 ft. Mizzen skysail yard 10 ft. Bowsprit, out-board 27 ft. Size 26 in. Jib-boom 42 ft. Head 3 ft. Size 14-1/2 in. Flying jib-boom 40 ft. Head 3 ft. 6 in. Main pole 12 ft., 10 above royal-mast, 5 in. in cap. Fore pole 11 ft., 9 above royal-mast, 4-1/2 in. in cap. Mizzen pole 9 ft., 7 above royal-mast Spanker-boom 40 ft. Spanker-gaff 30 ft. Swinging-booms 40 ft. Topmast studdingsail-booms 34 ft. Topgallant studdingsail-booms 27 ft., yards for do. 17 ft. PLACING THE MASTS.--For a full-built ship, take the ship's extreme length and divide it into sevenths. Place the foremast one seventh of this length from the stem; the mainmast three sevenths from the foremast, and the mizzenmast two sevenths from the mainmast. If a vessel is sharp-built, and her stem and stern-post rake, her foremast should be further aft, and her mizzenmast further forward, than the rule of sevenths would give. A common rule for placing the foremast, is to deduct three fifths of a ship's beam from her length, for the curvature of the keel forward, which is called the _keel-stroke_, and place the mast next abaft the keel-stroke. SIZE OF ANCHORS AND CABLES.--Various rules have been adopted for the weight of a ship's anchors. A vessel of 100 tons will generally have a best bower of 6 cwt. and a small bower of 5 cwt.; the weight of both being eleven pounds to a ton of the vessel. As a vessel increases in size, the proportion diminishes. A vessel of 700 tons will usually carry a best bower of 27 cwt. and a small bower of 24 cwt.; the weight of both being seven and a half pounds to a ton of the vessel. The _stream_ should be a little more than one third the weight of the best bower. The anchor-stock should be the length of the shank; its diameter should be half that of the ring, and its thickness one inch at the middle and half an inch at each end for every foot in length. Chain cables are usually ninety fathoms in length, for large-sized vessels, and sixty for small vessels, as schooners and sloops. The regulation of the United States Navy for chain cables, is one inch and a half for a sloop of war, and one and a quarter for brigs and schooners. In the merchant service, a ship of 400 tons would probably have a best bower cable of one and five sixths, and a working bower of one and a quarter inches. A ship of 700 tons would have a best bower of one and five eighths, and a working bower of one and a half inches. Chain cables have a shackle at every fifteen fathoms, and one swivel at the first shackle. Some have two swivels; and formerly they were made with a swivel between each shackle. LEAD-LINES.--The _hand-lead_ weighs usually seven pounds, and the hand-line is from twenty to thirty fathoms in length. The _deep-sea-lead_ (pro. dipsey) weighs from fourteen to eighteen or twenty pounds; and the deep-sea-line is from ninety to one hundred and ten fathoms. The proper way to mark a hand-line is, black leather at 2 and 3 fathoms; white rag at 5; red rag at 7; wide strip of leather, with a hole in it, at 10; and 13, 15 and 17 marked like 3, 5 and 7; two knots at 20; 3 at 30; and 4 at 40; with single pieces of cord at 25 and 35. The deep-sea-line has one knot at 20 fathoms, and an additional knot at every 10 fathoms, with single knots at each intermediate 5 fathoms. It sometimes has a strip of leather at 10 fathoms, and from 3 to 10 is marked like the hand-line. LOG-LINE.--The rate of a ship's sailing is measured by a log-line and a half-minute glass. The line is marked with a knot for each mile; the real distance between each knot being, however, 1/120 of a mile, since a half-minute is 1/120 of an hour. A knot being thus the same portion of a mile that a half-minute is of an hour, the number of knots carried off while the glass is running out will show the number of miles the vessel goes in an hour. Many glasses, however, are made for twenty-eight seconds, which, of course, reduces the number of feet for a knot to forty-seven and six tenths. But as the line is liable to stretch and the glass to be affected by the weather, in order to avoid all danger of a vessel's overrunning her reckoning, and to be on the safe side, it is recommended to mark forty-five feet to a knot for a twenty-eight second glass. About ten fathoms is left unmarked next the chip, called _stray-line_. The object of this is that the chip may get out of the eddy under the stern, before the measuring begins. The end of the stray-line is marked by a white rag, and the first knot is forty-five or forty-seven feet from the rag. A single piece of cord or twine is put into the line for the first knot, one knot for the second, two for the fourth, three for the sixth, and so on, a single piece of cord being put in at the intermediate knots. BALLAST AND LADING.--A ship's behavior, as the phrase is, depends as much upon the manner in which she is loaded and ballasted, as upon her model. It is said that a vessel may be prevented from rolling heavily, if, when the ballast is iron, it is stowed up to the floor-heads; because this will bring the ship back, after she has inclined, with less violence, and will act upon a point but little distant from the centre of gravity, and not interfere with her stiff carrying of sail. The cargo should be stowed with the weightier materials as near as possible to the centre of gravity, and high or low, according to the build of the vessel. If the vessel is full and low built, the heavy articles should be stowed high up, that the centre of gravity may be raised and the vessel kept from rolling too much, and from being too laborsome. But a narrow, high-built vessel should have the heavy articles stowed low and near the keelson, which will tend to keep her from being crank, and enable her to carry sail to more advantage. CHAPTER II. CUTTING AND FITTING STANDING RIGGING. Measuring and cutting lower rigging and lower fore-and-aft stays. Fitting the same. Measuring, cutting, and fitting topmast rigging, stays, and backstays. Jib, topgallant, and royal stays. Rattling down rigging. Cutting and fitting lifts, foot-ropes, brace-block straps, and pennants. Breast-backstays. CUTTING LOWER RIGGING.--Draw a line from the side of the partners abreast of the mast, on the deck, parallel to the channels, and to extend as far aft as they do. On this line mark the places of each dead-eye, corresponding to their places against the channels. Send a line up to the mast-head, and fasten it to the mast by a nail above the bibbs, in a range with the centre of the mast, and opposite to the side the channel line is drawn upon. Then take the bight of the line around the forward part of the mast, and fasten it to the mast by a nail, opposite the first nail, so that the part between the nails will be half the circumference of the mast-head; then take the line down to the mark on the channel line for the forward dead-eye, and mark it as before; and so on, until you have got the distance between the mast and each mark on the channel line. Now cast off the line from the mast-head, and the distance between the end of the line and each mark will give you the length of each shroud from the lower part of the mast-head. And, to make an allowance for one pair of shrouds overlaying another, you may increase the length of the pair put on second, that is, the larboard forward ones, by twice the diameter of the rigging; the third pair by four times; and so on. The size of the lower rigging should be as much as eight and a half inches for vessels of seven or eight hundred tons, and from seven and a half to eight for smaller vessels, over three hundred tons. For the length of the fore, main, and mizzen stays and spring-stays, take the distance from the after part of the mast-head to their hearts, or to the place where they are set up, adding once the length of the mast-head for the collar. The standing stays should be once and half the circumference of the shrouds. FITTING LOWER RIGGING.--Get it on a stretch, and divide each pair of shrouds into thirds, and mark the centre of the middle third. Tar, worm, parcel and serve the middle third. Parcel _with_ the lay of the rope, working toward the centre; and serve _against_ the lay, beginning where you left off parcelling. Serve as taut as possible. In some vessels the outer thirds of the swifters are served; but matting and battens are neater and more generally used. Formerly the middle third was parcelled over the service, below the wake of the futtock staff. Mark an eye at the centre of the middle third, by seizing the parts together with a round seizing. The eye of the pair of shrouds that goes on first should be once and a quarter the circumference of the mast-head; and make each of the others in succession the breadth of a seizing larger than the one below it. Parcel the score of the dead-eye, and heave the shroud taut round it, turning in _with_ the sun, if right-hand-laid rope, and _against_ the sun, if hawser-laid; then pass the throat seizing with nine or ten turns, the outer turns being slacker than the middle ones. Pass the quarter seizings half way to the end, and then the end seizings, and cap the shroud, well tarred under the cap. Make a Matthew Walker knot in one end of the lanyard, reeve the other end _out_ through the dead-eye of the shroud, beginning at the side of the dead-eye upon which the end of the shroud comes, and _in_ through the dead-eye in the channels, so that the hauling part of the lanyard may come in-board and on the same side with the standing part of the shroud. If the shroud is right-hand-laid rope, the standing part of the shroud will be aft on the starboard, and forward on the larboard side; and the reverse, if hawser-laid. The neatest way of setting up the lower fore-and-aft stays, is by reeving them _down_ through a bull's eye, with tarred parcelling upon the thimble, and setting them up on their ends, with three or four seizings. The collar of the stay is the length of the mast-head, and is leathered over the service. The service should go beyond the wake of the foot of the topsail, and the main-stay should be served in the wake of the foremast. The main and spring stays usually pass on different sides of the foremast, and set up at the hawse-pieces. The bolsters under the eyes of the rigging should always be covered with tarred parcelling, marled on. The starboard forward shroud goes on first; then the larboard; and so on. The fore stay and spring stay go over the shrouds; and the head stays always go over the backstays. CUTTING AND FITTING TOPMAST RIGGING.--For the forward shroud, measure from the hounds of the topmast down to the after part of the lower trestle-trees, and add to that length half the circumference of the mast-head at the hounds. The eye is once and a quarter the circumference of the mast-head. The topmast rigging in size should be three fifths of the lower rigging. For the topmast backstays, measure the distance from the hounds of the mast down to the centre of the deck, abreast of their dead-eyes in the channels, and add to this length one half the circumference of the mast-head. Add to the length of the larboard pair, which goes on last, twice the diameter of the rope. The size of the fore and main topmast backstays is generally one quarter less than that of the lower rigging; and that of the mizzen topmast backstays the same as that of the main topmast rigging. The size of the topmast stays should be once and a quarter that of the rigging. The topmast rigging is fitted in the same manner as the lower. The backstays should be leathered in the wake of the tops and lower yards. The breast-backstays are turned in upon blocks instead of dead-eyes, and set up with a luff purchase. The fore topmast stay sets up on the starboard, and the spring stay on the larboard side of the bowsprit. All the fore-and-aft stays are now set up on their ends, and should be leathered in their nips, as well as in their eyes. The main topmast stay goes through a heart or thimble at the foremast-head, or through a hole in the cap, and sets up on deck or in the top; and the mizzen topmast stay sets up at the mainmast-head, above the rigging. JIB, TOPGALLANT, AND ROYAL RIGGING.--The jib stay sets up on its end on the larboard side of the head, and is served ten feet from the boom, and its collar is leathered like that of the topmast stay. The gaub lines or back ropes go from the martingale in-board. The guys are fitted in pairs, rove through straps or snatches on the spritsail yard, and set up to eye-bolts inside of or abaft the cat-heads. The foot-ropes are three quarters the length of the whole boom, and go over the boom-end with a cut splice. Overhand knots or Turks-heads should be taken in them at equal distances, to prevent the men from slipping, when laying out upon them. The most usual method of fitting topgallant rigging in merchantmen, is to reeve it through holes in the horns of the cross-trees, then pass it between the topmast shrouds over the futtock staff, and set it up at an iron band round the topmast, just below the sheave-hole; or else down into the top, and set it up there. To get the length of the starboard forward shroud, measure from the topgallant mast-head to the heel of the topmast, and add one half the circumference of the topgallant mast-head. Its size should be about five sevenths of the topmast rigging. Each pair of shrouds should be served below the futtock staves. They are fitted like the topmast shrouds. The fore-and-aft stays of long topgallant masts go with eyes, and are served and leathered in the wake of the foot of the sails. The fore topgallant stay leads in on the starboard side of the bowsprit, and sets up to a bolt at the hawse-piece; the main leads through a chock on the after part of the fore topmast cross-trees, and sets up in the top; and the mizzen usually through a thimble on the main cap, and sets up on its end. The topgallant backstays set up on their end, or with lanyards in the channels; and for their length, measure from the mast-head to the centre of the deck, abreast the bolt in the channels. The royal shrouds, backstays, and fore-and-aft stays, are fitted like those of the topgallant masts, and bear the same proportion to them that the topgallant bear to the topmast. The fore royal stay reeves through the outer sheave-hole of the flying jib-boom, and comes in on the larboard side; the main through a thimble at the fore jack-cross-trees; and the mizzen through a thimble at the maintopmast cap. The flying jib-stay goes in on the starboard side, and sets up like the jib-stay. The gear of the flying jib-boom is fitted like that of the jib-boom. RATLING.--Swift the rigging well in, and lash handspikes or boat's oars outside at convenient distances, parallel with the shear-pole. Splice a small eye in the end of the ratlin, and seize it with yarns to the after shroud on the starboard side and to the forward on the larboard, so that the hitches may go _with_ the sun. Take a clove hitch round each shroud, hauling well taut, and seize the eye of the other end to the shroud. The ratlins of the lower rigging should be thirteen, and of the topmast rigging eleven inches apart, and all square with the shear-pole. STANDING RIGGING OF THE YARDS.--The first thing to go upon the lower yard-arm, next the shoulder, is the head-earing strap; the next, the foot-ropes; next, the brace-block; and lastly, the lift. The foot-ropes go with an eye over the yard-arm, are rove through thimbles in the end of the stirrups, (sometimes with Turks-heads, to prevent their slipping,) and are lashed to bolts or thimbles, but now usually to the iron trusses. The stirrups fit to staples in the yard, with an eye-splice. The lifts should be single, and fitted with an eye over the yard-arm, and lead through a single block at the mast-head, and set up by a gun or luff tackle purchase, with the double block hooked to a thimble or turned in at the end, and the lower block to an eye-bolt in the deck. Instead of brace-blocks on the fore and main yards, brace-pennants fitted over the yard-arm with an eye are neater. The latest and neatest style of rigging lower yards is to have a strong iron band with eyes and thimbles round each yard-arm, close to the shoulder; and then fit the lift, foot-rope, and brace-pennant, each to one of these eyes, with an eye-splice round the thimble or with a hook. The lower lifts now, for the most part, cross each other over a saddle upon the cap, instead of going through blocks. The inner ends of the foot-ropes to the topsail, topgallant and royal yards, cross each other at the slings; and on the topsail yard there are Flemish-horses, spliced round thimbles on the boom-iron, and the other end seized to the yard, crossing the foot-rope. A neater mode is to hook the outer end of the Flemish-horse, so that it may be unhooked and furled in with the sails when in port. Next to the foot-ropes go on the brace-blocks, and lastly, the lifts. The rigging to the topgallant and royal yards is fitted similarly to that upon the topsail, except that there is nothing over the yard-arms but foot-rope, brace and lift. The brace to the royal yard fits with an eye. The reef-tackle, studding-sail halyard, and other temporary blocks, are seized to the lower and topsail yard-arms by open straps, so that they may be removed without taking off the lift. The topgallant studding-sail halyard block is often hooked to the boom-iron, under the yard. The foot-ropes to the spanker-boom should be half the length of the boom, going over the end with a splice, covered with canvass, and coming in one third of the way to the jaws, and seized to the boom by a rose-seizing through an eye-splice. The next to go over the boom-end are the guys, which are fitted with a cut-splice covered with canvass, and have a single block turned in at their other ends. To these single blocks are luff or gun-tackle purchases, going to the main brace-bumpkin. Their length should be two fifths that of the boom. The topping-lifts are usually hooked into a band or spliced into bolts about one quarter the distance from the outer end of the boom, and reeve through single blocks under the top, with a double or single block at their lower ends. All the splices and seizings of the standing rigging should be covered with canvass, if possible, except in the channels and about the head, where they are too much exposed to the washing of water. A vessel looks much neater for having the ends of the rigging, where eyes are spliced, or where they are set up on their ends aloft or on deck, covered with canvass, and painted white or black, according to the place where they are. The lanyards and dead-eyes of the smaller rigging which sets up in the top may also be covered with canvass. The lanyards, dead-eyes, and turnings-in of the rigging in the channels, should always be protected by scotchmen when at sea, and the forward shroud should be matted or battened all the way up to the futtock staves. In some smaller merchantmen the lower rigging is not infrequently set up upon its end to bolts in the rail. This is very inconvenient on many accounts, especially as all the seizings have to be come up with, and the nip of the shroud altered, whenever it is at all necessary to set them taut. This soon defaces and wears out the ends; while, with dead-eyes, only the lanyards have to be come up with. Some vessels set up their lower rigging with dead-eyes upon the rail. This is convenient in setting them up in bad weather, but does not give so much spread as when set up in the channels, and presents a more complicated surface to the eye. If the rigging is fitted in this way, you must deduct the height of the rail above the deck from the measure before given for cutting it. BREAST-BACKSTAYS.--It is not usual, now, for merchant vessels to carry topmast breast-backstays. If they are carried, they are spread by out-riggers from the top. Topgallant and royal breast-backstays are used, and are of great assistance in sailing on the wind. There are various ways of rigging them out, of which the following is suggested as a neat and convenient one. Have a spar fitted for an out-rigger, about the size of one of the horns of the cross-trees, with three holes bored in it, two near to one end, and the third a little the other side of the middle. Place it upon the after horn of the cross-tree, with the last-mentioned hole over the hole in the end of the horn of the cross-tree, and let the after topgallant shroud reeve through it. Reeve the topgallant and royal breast-backstays through the outer holes, and set them up by a gun-tackle purchase, in the channels.[1] The inner end of the out-rigger should fit to a cleat, and be lashed to the cross-tree by a lanyard. When the breast-backstays are to be rigged in, cast off the lanyard, and let the out-rigger slue round the topgallant shroud for a pivot, the inner end going aft, and the outer end, with the backstays, resting against the forward shroud. One of these out-riggers should be fitted on each side, and all trouble of shifting over, and rigging out by purchase, will be avoided. [1] The royal breast-backstay may be used as the fall of the purchase. CHAPTER III. FITTING AND REEVING RUNNING RIGGING. Fore braces. Main braces. Cross-jack braces. Fore, main, and mizzen topsail braces. Fore, main, and mizzen topgallant and royal braces. Trusses. Topsail tyes and halyards. Topgallant and royal halyards. Peak and throat halyards. Spanker brails. Fore and main tacks and sheets. Topsail, topgallant and royal sheets and clewlines. Reef-tackles. Clew-garnets. Fore and main buntlines, leechlines, and slablines. Topsail clewlines and buntlines. Bowlines. To reeve a brace, begin on deck, and reeve to where the standing part is made fast. The _fore braces_ reeve _up_ through a block on the mainmast just below the rigging, _down_ or _in_ through the brace-block on the yard or at the end of the pennant, and the standing part is brought through the cheeks of the mast with a knot inside. The neatest way for reeving the _main brace_ is _out_ through a single block on the brace-bumpkin, _out_ through the brace-pennant-block, _in_ through an outer block on the bumpkin, and seized to the strap of the pennant. Another way is _out_ through the bumpkin block, _out_ or _down_ through the pennant block, and secure the end to the bumpkin or to the fashion-piece below. The _cross-jack braces_ reeve _up_ through blocks on the after shroud of the main rigging, _up_ through blocks on the yard, one third of the way in from the yard-arm, and are seized to a bolt in the mainmast, or to the after shroud again. The _fore topsail braces_ reeve _up_ through the blocks secured to the bibbs at the mainmast-head, _in_ through the span-block at the collar of the main stay, _up_ through the block on the yard, and are seized to the main topmast-head; or else _up_ through a block at the topmast-head, down through the brace-block on the yard, and are seized to the collar of the main stay. The last way is the best. The _main topsail braces_ are rove through span-blocks at the mizzen-mast, below the top, _up_ through the blocks on the yard, and are seized to the mizzen topmast-head; or else _up_ through a block at the mizzen-mast-head, _down_ through the block on the yard, and secured to the mizzen-mast. The first way is the best. The _mizzen topsail braces_ reeve _up_ through the leading blocks or fair-leaders on the main rigging, _up_ through blocks at the mainmast-head, or at the after part of the top, _up_ through the yard blocks, and are seized to the cap. The _fore_ and _main topgallant braces_ are rove _up_ through blocks under the topmast cross-trees, _in_ through span-blocks on the topmast stays, just below their collars, _up_ through the blocks on the yards, and the main are usually seized to the head of the mizzen topgallant mast, and the fore to the topmast stay, by the span-block. The _mizzen topgallant braces_ generally go single, through a block at the after part of the main top-mast cross-trees. The _royal braces_ go single: the _fore_, through a block at the main topgallant mast-head; the _main_, through one at the mizzen topgallant mast-head; and the _mizzen_, through a block at the after part of the main topmast cross-trees. HALYARDS.--The _lower yards_ are now hung by patent iron trusses, which allow the yard to be moved in any direction; topped up or braced. The _topsail yards_ have chain tyes, which are hooked to the slings of the yard, and rove through the sheave-hole at the mast-head. The other end of the tye hooks to a block. Through this block a chain runner leads, with its standing part hooked to an eye-bolt in the trestle-tree, and with the upper halyard-block hooked to its other end. The halyards should be a luff purchase, the fly-block being the double block, and the single block being hooked in the channels. Sometimes they are a gun-tackle purchase, with two large single blocks. The lower block of the mizzen topsail halyards is usually in the mizzen-top, the fall coming down on deck. The _fore_ and _mizzen topsail halyards_ come down to port, and the main to the starboard. The _topgallant halyards_ come down on opposite sides from the topsail halyards; though the fore and main usually come down by the side of the masts. The fore and main topgallant halyards sometimes hoist with a gun-tackle purchase, but the mizzen and all the royal halyards are single. The _throat and peak halyards_ of the spanker are fitted in the following manner. The outer peak halyard block is put on the gaff, one third of its length from the outer end, or a very little, if any, within the leech of the sail; and the inner one, two thirds in. The blocks are fitted round the gaff with grommet straps, and are kept in their places by cleats. The double block of the peak halyards is strapped to the bolt in the after part of the mizzen cap, and the halyards are rove _up_ through this, _in_ through the blocks on the gaff, the inner one first, the standing part made fast to the double block, and the fall coming on deck. The upper block of the throat halyards is secured under the cap, and the lower block is hooked to an eye-bolt on the jaws of the gaff. This is a two-fold tackle. THE SPANKER BRAILS.--The _peak brails_ reeve through single blocks on the gaff, two on each side, generally span-blocks, and then through the throat brail blocks, as leaders, to the deck. The _throat brails_ reeve through two triple blocks strapped to eye-bolts under the jaws of the gaff, one on each side, through the two other sheaves of which the peak brails lead. Each brail is a single rope, middled at the leech of the sail. TACKS, SHEETS, CLEWLINES, &C.--It is much more convenient to have the tack and sheet blocks of the courses fastened to the clews of the courses by hooks. Then they can be unhooked when the sail is furled, and, in light weather, a single rope with a hook, called a _lazy sheet_, can be used, instead of the heavy tacks and sheets with their blocks. This is also much more convenient in clewing up. The _main tack_ is rove _aft_ through the block in the waterways, _forward_ through the block on the sail, and the standing part hooks to the block on deck. The _fore tack_ goes through a block on the bumpkin. The _sheets_ of the courses have the after block hooked to an eye-bolt in the side, abaft the channels, and the forward one hooked to the clew of the sail, the running part reeving through a sheave-hole in the rail. The sheets of all the square sails but the courses run from the clew of the sail, through sheave-holes in the yard-arms, through the quarter blocks, down on deck. The _topsail sheets_ are chain, are clasped to the clews of the sail, and are fitted with a gun-tackle purchase at the foot of the mast. The _topgallant_ and _royal sheets_ are single. The _topsail_ and _topgallant clewlines_ reeve through the quarter-blocks. The _royal clewlines_ are single, and the topsail and topgallant are a gun-tackle purchase. The _reef-tackles_ of the topsails reeve _up_ through blocks on the lower rigging, or futtock shrouds, _down_ through the block on the yard, down the leech of the sail and through the block on the leech, and are made fast to the yard on their own parts, with a clinch, outside of everything. The _clew-garnets_ reeve _out_ through blocks under the quarters of the yard, then _up_ through blocks at the clew, and the standing part is made fast to the yard, to the block, or to a strap. The _buntlines_ of the courses reeve through double or triple blocks under the forward part of the top, down forward of the sail, sometimes through thimbles in the first reef-band, and are clinched to the foot of the sail. The _leechlines_ reeve through single blocks on the yard, and are clinched to the leech of the sail. The _slabline_ is a small rope rove through a block under the slings of the yard, and clinched to the foot of the sail. This is not much used in merchant vessels. The _topsail clewlines_ lead like the clew-garnets of the courses. The _topsail buntlines_ reeve forward through single blocks at the topmast-head, down through the thimbles of a lizard seized to the tye, just above the yard, and are clinched to the foot of the sail. The handiest way of reeving the _main bowline_ is to have a single rope with the standing part hooked near the foremast, and reeve it _out_ through a heart in the bridle. This will answer for both sides. The _fore bowline_ may be rove through a single block at the heel of the jib-boom and hooked to the bridle. The bowlines to the other sails are toggled to the bridles and lead forward. Many vessels now dispense with all the bowlines except to the courses. This saves trouble, makes a ship look neater, and, if the sails are well cut, they will set taut enough in the leach, without bowlines. CHAPTER IV. TO RIG MASTS AND YARDS. Rigging the shears. Taking in lower masts and bowsprit. To rig a bowsprit. Getting the tops over the mast-heads. To send up a top-mast. To get on a top-mast cap. To rig a jib-boom. To cross a lower yard. To cross a topgallant yard. To send up a topgallant mast. Long, short, and stump topgallant masts. To rig out a flying jib-boom. To cross topgallant and royal yards. Skysail yards. TAKING IN LOWER MASTS AND BOWSPRIT.--Shore up the beams upon which the heels of the shears will rest, if necessary, from the keelson. Parbuckle the shears aboard, with their heads aft. Raise their heads upon the taffrail, cross them, and pass the shear-lashing. Lash the upper block of a three-fold tackle under the cross, and secure the lower block to the breast-hooks, or to a toggle in the hawse-hole. You may also reeve and secure, in the same manner, a smaller purchase, which shall work clear of the first. Have two forward and two after guys clove-hitched to the shear-head, with cleats to prevent their slipping. Get a girt-line on one shear-head and a small tackle on the other, to slue and cant the mast. Let the fall of the main tackle come through the middle sheave, to prevent the block's sluing in its strap. Reeve large heel tackles to rouse the shears aft with. Put long oak plank shoes under the heels; and, if it be necessary, clap a thwart-ship tackle upon the two heels, or reeve a lashing, and put a stout plank between them, and bowse taut; which will prevent too great a strain coming upon the water-ways. Take the main tackle fall to the capstan; heave round, haul on the forward guy and after heel tackles, and raise the shear to an angle of about eighty degrees with the deck, and so that the main purchase will hang plumb with the partners of the mizzen-mast. Lash a garland to the forward part of the mast, above the centre, and toggle the purchase to it. Heave the mast in over the bulwarks; fit the trestle-trees and after chock; reeve girt-lines by which men may be hoisted when the mast is in; point the mast in, and lower away. Always take in the mizzen-mast first. Get in the main and then the foremast in the same manner, rousing the shears forward, with their shoes, by means of the heel tackles. Having stepped and secured the foremast, carry the forward guys aft and rake the shears over the bows; toggle the lower block of the main tackle to a garland lashed to the upper part of the bowsprit inside of the centre. Put on the cap, and carry tackles or guys from the bowsprit-head to each cat-head, and clap on a heel tackle or guy. Heave the bowsprit, and direct it by the small tackles and guys. TO RIG A BOWSPRIT.--Lash collars for the fore stay, bobstays, and bowsprit shrouds, then for the spring stay, and put on the bees for the topmast stays; fit the man-ropes, pass the gammoning, and set up bobstays and shrouds. TO GET THE TOPS OVER THE MAST-HEADS.--Place the top on deck abaft the mast; get a girt-line on each side of the mast-head, and pass the end of each under the top, through the holes in the after part; clinch them to their own parts, and stop them to the fore part of the top with slip-stops. Have a guy to the fore and another to the after part of the top. Make the ends of a span fast to the after corners of the top, and bend a girt-line from the mast-head to the bight of the span, and stop it to the forward part of the top. Sway away on the girt-lines. When the fore part of the top is above the trestle-trees, cut the span-stops, and when the after part is above them, cast off the slip-stops. When the lubber-hole is high enough to clear the mast-head, haul on the forward guy, and let the top hang horizontally by the girt-lines. Lower away, place and bolt it. The fore and main tops are sent up from abaft, and the mizzen from forward. The tops may be got over without the span and girt-line, by stopping the two girt-lines first rove to the middle as well as to the fore part of the top, and cutting the upper stops first. TO SEND UP A TOPMAST.--Get the topmast alongside, with its head forward. Lash a top-block to the head of the lower-mast; reeve a mast-rope through it, from aft forward, and bring the end down and reeve it through the sheave-hole of the topmast, hitching it to its own part a little below the topmast-head, and stopping both parts to the mast, at intervals. Snatch the rope and sway away. As soon as the head is through the lower cap, cast off the end of the mast-rope, letting the mast hang by the stops, and hitch it to the staple in the other end of the cap. Cast off the stops and sway away. Point the head of the mast between the trestle-trees and through the hole in the lower cap, the round hole of which must be put over the square hole of the trestle-trees. Lash the cap to the mast, hoist away, and when high enough, lower a little and secure the cap to the lower mast-head. (This is when it cannot be put on by hand.) If the cross-trees are heavy, they may be placed in the following manner. Sway away until the topmast-head is a few feet above the lower cap. Send up the cross-trees by girt-lines, and let the after part rest on the lower cap and the forward part against the topmast. Lower away the topmast until the cross-trees fall into their place, and then hoist until they rest on the shoulders. Lash on the bolsters, get girt-lines on the cross-trees to send up the rigging, and then put it over the mast-head, first the shrouds, then the backstays, and lastly the head-stays. Sway the topmast on end, fid it, and set up the rigging. TO GET ON A TOPMAST-CAP.--In vessels of the largest class, it may be necessary to send up the cap in the following manner, but it can usually be got up by hand. Or it may be fitted and the rigging put on over it. Send the cap up to the cross-trees by girt-lines, and place the round hole of the cap over the forward hole of the cross-trees; send aloft a topgallant studdingsail boom, and point its upper end through the holes in the cross-trees and cap, and lash the cap to it. Hook a tackle or girt-line to a strap on the lower end of the spar, and sway away until the cap is over the mast-head. Slue the spar so that the cap may come fair, lower away, and place the cap upon the mast-head. Unlash the spar and send it down. TO RIG OUT A JIB-BOOM.--Point the outer end through the collars of the stays. Reeve the heel-rope through a block at the bowsprit cap, through the sheave-hole at the heel of the boom, and secure the end to an eye-bolt in the cap on the opposite side. Rig the boom out until the inner sheave-hole is clear of the cap. Tar the boom-end, put on the foot-ropes and guys, and reeve the jib stay. Hoist up the martingale and rig it, and reeve the martingale stay and gaub-line. Rig the boom out to its place, and set up the jib and martingale stays. TO CROSS A LOWER YARD.--If the yard is alongside, reeve the yard rope through the jear block at the mast-head, make it fast to the slings of the yard, and stop it out to the yard-arm. Sway away, and cast off the stops as the yard comes over the side, and get the yard across the bulwarks. Lower yards are rigged now with iron trusses and quarter-blocks, which would be fitted before rigging the yard. Seize on the clew-garnet block, and put the rigging over the yard-arm; first the straps for the head-earings, then the foot-ropes, then the brace blocks or pennants, and last the eye of the lift. (The lifts, brace pennants, and foot-ropes are now spliced or hooked into rings with thimbles on an iron band, round the yard-arm, next the shoulders. In this way, there is no rope of any kind round the yard-arm.) Reeve the lifts and braces, get two large tackles from the mast-head to the quarters of the yard, and sway away on them and on the lifts, bearing off and sluing the yard by means of guys. Secure the yard by the iron trusses, and haul taut lifts and braces. TO CROSS A TOPSAIL YARD.--As topsail yards now have chain tyes, there are no tye-blocks to seize on. The quarter-blocks are first seized on, and the parral secured at one end, ready to be passed. A single parral has an eye in each end, and one end is passed under the yard and over, and the eye seized to the standing part, close to the yard. After the yard is crossed, the other end is passed round the mast, then round the yard, and seized in the same manner. To pass a double parral, proceed in the same manner, except that the seizings are passed so as to leave the eyes clear and above the standing part, and then take a short rope with an eye in each end, pass it round the mast, and seize the eyes to the eyes of the first long rope. The parral is wormed, served and leathered. The parral being seized at one end, put on the head-earing straps, the foot-ropes, Flemish horses, and brace blocks. Bend the yard-rope to the slings, stop it out to the yard-arm, and sway away until the yard is up and down; then put on the upper lift in the top and the lower lift on deck, and reeve the braces. Sway away, cast off the stops, and take in upon the lower lift as the yard rises, till the yard is square; then haul taut lifts and braces and pass the parral. TO SEND UP A TOPGALLANT MAST.--Most merchantmen carry _long topgallant masts_. In these, the topgallant, royal and skysail masts are all one stick. _A short topgallant mast_ is one which has cross-trees, and above which a fidded royal-mast may be rigged. _A stump topgallant mast_ has no cross-trees, or means for setting a mast above it, and is carried only in bad weather. Some short topgallant masts are rigged with a _withe_ on the after part of the mast-head, through which a sliding-gunter royal-mast is run up, with its heel resting in a step on the topmast cap. To send up a long topgallant mast, put the jack over the topmast cap, with a grommet upon its funnel for the eyes of the rigging to rest upon; send up the rigging by girtlines, and put the eyes over the jack, first the topgallant shrouds, backstays and stays, then the royal rigging in the same order, with a grommet, then the skysail stay and backstay, and lastly the truck. Reeve a top-rope forward through a block at the topmast-head, through the hole in the cross-trees; through the sheave-hole at the foot of the topgallant mast; carry it up the other side, and make it fast to its own part at the mast-head; stop it along the mast, and bend a guy to the heel. Sway away, and point through the jack; put on the truck, and the skysail, royal and topgallant rigging in their order; slue the mast so as to bring the sheaves of the tyes fore-and-aft; cast off the end of the top-rope, the mast hanging by the stops; make it fast to an eye-bolt on the starboard side of the cap, and sway away. When high enough, fid the mast and set up the rigging. A short topgallant mast is sent up like a topmast, the cross-trees got over in the same manner; and the fidded royal-mast is sent up like a long topgallant mast. TO RIG OUT A FLYING JIB-BOOM.--Ship the withe on the jib-boom end, reeve a heel-rope through a block at the jib-boom end, and bend it to the heel of the flying jib-boom, and stop it along, out to the end. Haul out on the heel-rope, point through the withe, put on the rigging, in the same order with that of the jib-boom; reeve the guys, martingale, flying jib, royal and skysail stays; rig out, and set up the rigging. The heel of the boom rests against the bowsprit cap, and is lashed to the jib-boom. The flying jib-boom should be rigged fully out before the fore topgallant mast is swayed on end. TO CROSS A TOPGALLANT YARD.--Seize on the parral and quarter-blocks; reeve the yard-rope through the sheave-hole of the topgallant mast, make it fast to the slings of the yard, and stop it out to the upper end. Sway away, and when the upper yard-arm has reached the topmast-head, put on the upper lift and brace; sway away again, put on the lower lift and brace, cast off all the stops, settle the yard down square by lifts and braces, and pass the parral lashing. TO CROSS ROYAL YARDS.--The royal yards are crossed in the same manner as the topgallant yards, except that in most merchantmen they would be sent up by the halyards instead of a yard-rope. If there is not a standing skysail, the quarter-blocks on the royal yard will be single. SKYSAIL YARDS.--If the skysail is a standing sail, the yard is rigged like the royal yard, with lifts and braces, and the sail is fitted with sheets and clewlines; but if it is a flying skysail, the yard has neither lifts nor braces, and the clews of the sail are seized out to the royal yard-arms. There are various ways of rigging a flying skysail, of which the following is believed to be as convenient as any. Let the royal stay go round the mast-head, with a traveller, above the yard, so that the stay may travel up and down the skysail mast. Seize a thimble into the stay, close against the forward part of the grommet; lead the skysail halyards through the thimble, and make them fast to the centre of the yard, which will need no parral, underneath the royal stay. Make fast the ends of two small ropes for downhauls, to the skysail yard, about half way out on each yard-arm, and reeve them through small cleats on the after part of the royal yard, the same distance out on each yard-arm. These may be spliced into a single rope below the yard, which will go through a fair-leader in the cross-trees to the deck. By this means the skysail may be taken in or set without the necessity of sending a man aloft. Let go the halyards and haul on the downhaul, and the yard will be brought close down to the royal yard. To hoist it, let go the downhaul and royal stay, and haul on the halyards. When the royal is taken in, haul the skysail yard down with the royal yard, and furl the sail in with the royal. CHAPTER V. TO SEND DOWN MASTS AND YARDS. To send down a royal yard--a topgallant yard--a topgallant mast. To house a topgallant mast. To send down a topmast. To rig in a jib boom. TO SEND DOWN A ROYAL YARD.--If the sail is bent to the yard, furl it, making the gaskets fast to the tye. Cast off the sheets and clewlines, and make them fast to the jack. Be careful to unreeve the clewlines through the quarter-blocks. Cast off the parral-lashing. Overhaul the tye a little, and stop it to the yard, just outside of the quarter-block. If stopped too far out, the yard will not hoist high enough to get the lower lift off. Sway away on the halyards, which will cant the yard and hoist it. When high enough, cast off the lower lift and brace, (being careful not to let the brace go,) and make them fast to the jack. Lower away, and as the upper yard-arm comes abreast of the jack, clap a stop round the yard and tye, near the yard-arm, and cast off the lift and brace, making them fast to the jack. Lower away to the deck. If the halyards are not single, the yard must be sent down by a yard-rope, like the topgallant yard. In some vessels, instead of making the sheets and clewlines fast to the jack, overhand knots are taken in their ends, and they are let go. The sheets will run out to the topgallant yard-arms, and the clewlines will run to the fair-leaders in the cross-trees. In port, the main royal yard is sent down on the starboard side, and the fore and mizzen on the larboard; but at sea, the tye is stopped out on the lee side, and the yard sent down in any way that is the most convenient. TO SEND DOWN A TOPGALLANT YARD.--Cast off the sheets, bowlines, buntlines and clewlines, and make them fast to the cross-trees. Reeve a yard-rope through a jack-block at the mast-head, unhook the tye, cast off the parral-lashing, bend the yard-rope to the slings of the yard by a fisherman's bend, and stop it to the quarters of the yard. Sway away, and take off the lifts and braces, as with the royal yard. TO SEND DOWN A TOPGALLANT MAST.--Hook the top-block to the eye-bolt at the larboard side of the topmast cap; reeve the mast-rope through it, then through the sheave-hole in the foot of the topgallant mast, and hitch its end to the eye-bolt on the starboard side of the cap. Come up the rigging, stays and backstays, and guy the mast-head by them. Hoist a little on the mast-rope, and take out the fid. (The fid should always be fastened to the cross-trees or trestle-trees, by a lanyard.) Lower away until the mast is a little short of being through the cap. Then seize or rack together both parts of the mast-rope just above the sheave-hole; cast off the end of the mast-rope, letting the mast hang by the stops, and hitch it round the mast-head to its own part, below the cap. Then lower away to the deck. If the rigging is to come on deck, round up the mast-rope for a girtline; if it is to remain aloft, lash it to the topmast cap, render the shrouds through the cross-trees, and stop them up and down the topgallant rigging. Sheep-shank the stays and backstays, and set them hand-taut. If the top-mast is also to be sent down, take off the topmast cap and send it on deck. TO HOUSE A TOPGALLANT MAST.--Proceed in the same manner, except that when the mast is low enough, belay the mast-rope, pass a heel-lashing through the fid-hole and round the topmast. TO SEND DOWN A TOPMAST.--Hook the top-block, reeve the mast-rope through it and through the sheave-hole in the foot of the mast, and hitch it to the staple at the other side of the cap. Lead the fall through a snatch-block, to the capstan. Sling the lower yard, if it is to remain aloft, and unshackle the trusses, if they are of iron. Come up the rigging, stays and backstays, weigh the mast, take out the fid, and lower away. If the rigging is to remain aloft, lash the cross-trees to the lower cap. The rigging should be stowed away snugly in the top, and the backstays be snaked up and down the lower rigging. TO RIG IN A JIB-BOOM.--Reeve the heel-rope (if necessary,) come up the stay, martingale stay and guys; unreeve the jib-stay, station hands at each guy, clear away the heel-lashing, haul in upon the guys, and light the boom on board. In most cases the boom will come in without a heel-rope. Make fast the eyes of the rigging to the bowsprit cap, and haul all taut. CHAPTER VI. BENDING AND UNBENDING SAILS. To bend a course. To send up a topsail by the halyards--by the bunt-lines. To bend a topgallant sail--a royal--a jib--a spanker--a spencer. To unbend a course--a topsail--a topgallant sail or royal--a jib. To send down a topsail or course in a gale of wind. To bend a topsail in a gale of wind. To bend one topsail or course, and send down the other at the same time. TO BEND A COURSE.--Stretch the sail across the deck, forward of the mast and under the yard; being careful to have the after part of the sail aft. Seize the clew-garnet blocks to the clews; also the tack and sheet blocks, unless they go with hooks or clasps. Reeve the buntlines through the thimbles of the first reef-band forward, if they are made to go so, and toggle their ends to the foot of the sail, or carry them through the eyelet-holes and clinch them to their own parts. Reeve the clew-garnets and leechlines; carry the bights of the buntlines under the sail, and rack them to their own parts; stop the head of the sail to the buntlines below the rackings; put robands to each eyelet-hole in the head of the sail; fasten the head and reef earings to their cringles, reeving the end of the reef-earings through the head-cringle and taking a bowline with them to their standing parts, and hitching the head-earings to the buntlines. Sway away on the buntlines, leechlines and clew-garnets; when the sail is up, pass the head-earings, reeving _aft_ through the straps on the yard, and _forward_ through the head cringle. Haul out on the earings, making the sail square by the glut, and pass the earings round the yard, over and under, through the head-cringle at each turn, and make the end fast around the first turns. If the sail is new, ride down the head rope on the yard, and freshen the earings. Make fast the head of the sail to the jack-stay by robands, and cast the stops off the buntlines. TO BEND A TOPSAIL.--Make fast the head and reef-earings to their cringles, passing the end of each reef-earing through the cringle above its own and making it fast by a bowline to its own part. Put robands to each eyelet-hole in the head. If the sail is to be sent up by the topsail halyards, lay it on deck abaft the foot of the mast, make it up with its head and foot together, having the head and first reef cringles together and out, and also the bowline cringle and the clews out. Bight the sail in three parts on a pair of slings, having the end of the sail that belongs on the opposite yard-arm on top. Have the fly-block of the topsail halyards above the top, and rack the runner to the topmast backstay or after shroud. Hook the lower block to the slings around the sail, hoist the sail up into the top, cast off the slings, unhook the halyards, and pass the upper end of the sail round forward of the mast, ready for bending. (If the vessel is rolling or pitching, with a stiff breeze, the sail may be guyed and steadied as it goes up, by hooking a snatch-block, moused, to the slings around the sail, passing the hauling part of the halyards through it, and through another snatch-block on deck.) Get the clewlines, buntlines, sheets, bowlines, and reef-tackles ready for bending, the clove hooks of the sheets being stopped to the topmast rigging. Hook or clasp the sheets to the clews, reeve the clewlines and reef-tackles, toggle the bowlines, clinch or toggle the buntlines to the foot of the sail, and stop the head to the buntlines. Hoist on the buntlines and haul out on the reef-tackles, bringing the sail to the yard, and then pass the head-earings and make fast the robands as for a course. If the sail is to be sent up by the buntlines, lay the sail on the deck and forward of the mast, overhaul the buntlines down forward of the yard, on each side of the topmast stay and on the same side of the lower stay. Clinch the ends to the foot of the sail, bight them around under the sail and rack the bights to their standing parts, and stop the head of the sail to the standing parts below the rackings. Bend one bowline to the centre of the sail, to guy it in going aloft. Have the earings bent and secured as before described, and the bights of the head-earings hitched to the buntlines. Sway it up to the top, and haul the ends in on each side of the mast; reeve the clewlines and reef-tackles, make fast the bowlines and sheets, the ends of which, if chain, should be racked to the topmast rigging, ready to be made fast to the clews. The gear being bent, hoist on the buntlines, haul out on the reef-tackles, pass the head-earings, cut the stops of the buntlines, and make fast the robands. Middle the sail on the yard by the glut, or by the centre cringle. TO BEND TOPGALLANT SAILS AND ROYALS.--These are generally bent to their yards on deck; the royals always. After being bent to the yard, they are furled, with their clews out, ready for sending aloft. If the topgallant sail is to be bent aloft, send it up to the topmast cross-trees by the clewlines, or by the royal halyards; and there bend on the sheets, clewlines, buntlines and bowlines, and bring the sail to the yard as with a topsail. TO BEND A JIB.--Bend the jib halyards round the body of the sail, and the downhaul to the tack. Haul out on the downhaul, hoisting and lowering on the halyards. Seize the tack to the boom, the hanks to the luff of the sail, and the halyards to its head. Reeve the downhaul up through the hanks and make it fast to the head of the sail. Seize the middle of the sheet-pennant to the clew. In some vessels the hanks are first seized to the sail, and the jib-stay unrove, brought in-board, and passed down through the hanks, as the sail is sent out, rove in its place and set up. This is more troublesome, and wears out the jib-stay. TO BEND A SPANKER.--Lower the gaff, and reeve the throat-rope through the hole in the gaff under the jaws, and secure it. Sometimes the head of the luff fits with a hook. Then haul out the head of the sail by the peak-earing, which is passed like the head-earing of a topsail. When the head-rope is taut, pass the lacings through the eyelet-holes, and round the jack-stay. Seize the bights of the throat and peak brails to the leech, at distances from the peak which will admit of the sail's being brailed up taut along the gaff, and reeve them through their blocks on the gaff, and at the jaws, on each side of the sail. The foot brail is seized to the leech just above the clew. Seize the luff of the sail to the hoops or hanks around the spanker mast, beginning with the upper hoop and hoisting the gaff as they are secured. The tack is hooked or seized to the boom or to the mast. Hook on the outhaul tackle. This is usually fitted with an eye round the boom, rove through a single block at the clew, and then through a sheave-hole in the boom. Some spankers are bent with a peak outhaul; the head traversing on the jack-stay of the gaff. THE FORE AND MAIN SPENCERS are bent like the spanker, except that they have no boom, the clew being hauled aft by a sheet, which is generally a gun-tackle purchase, hooked to an eye-bolt in the deck. TO UNBEND A COURSE.--Haul it up, cast off the robands, and make the buntlines fast round the sail. Ease the earings off together, and lower away by the buntlines and clew-garnets. At sea, the lee earing is cast off first, rousing in the lee body of the sail, and securing it by the earing to the buntlines. TO UNBEND A TOPSAIL.--Clew it up, cast off the robands, secure the buntlines round the sail, unhook the sheets, and unreeve the clewlines and reef-tackles; ease off the earings, and lower by the buntlines. A _top gallant sail_ is unbent in the same manner, and sent down by the buntlines. A _royal_ is usually sent down with the yard. TO UNBEND A JIB.--Haul it down, cast off the hank seizings and the tack-lashing, cast off and unreeve the downhaul and make it fast round the sail, and cast off the sheet-pennant lashings. Haul aboard by the downhaul, hoisting clear by the halyards. The rules above given are for a vessel in port, with squared yards. If you are at sea and it is blowing fresh, and the topsail or course is reefed, to send it down, you must cast off a few robands and reef-points, and pass good stops around the sail; then secure the buntlines also around it, and cast off all the robands, reef-points and reef-earings. Bend a line to the lee head-earing and let it go, haul the sail well up to windward, and make fast the lee earing to the buntlines. Get a hauling line to the deck, forward; ease off the weather earing, and lower away. To bend a new topsail in a gale of wind, it has been found convenient to make the sail up with the reef-bands together, the points all being out fair, to pass several good stops round the sail, and send up as before. This will present less surface to the wind. One course may be sent up as the other goes down, by unbending the buntlines from the foot of the old sail, passing them down between the head of the sail and the yard, bending them to the foot of the new sail, and making the new sail up to be sent aloft by them, as before directed. Run the new sail up to the yard abaft the old one, and send the old one down by the leechlines and the head-earings, bent to the topmast studdingsail halyards, or some other convenient rope. One topsail may be sent up by the topsail halyards, got ready for bending, and brought to the yard, while the old one is sent down by the buntlines. [Illustration: PLATE V.] CHAPTER VII. WORK UPON RIGGING.--ROPE, KNOTS, SPLICES, BENDS AND HITCHES. Kinds of rope. Spunyarn. Worming. Parcelling. Service. Short splice. Long splice. Eye splice. Flemish eye. Spindle eye. Cut splice. Grommet. Single and double wall. Matthew Walker. Single and double diamond. Spritsail sheet knot. Stopper knot. Shroud knot. French shroud knot. Buoy-rope knot. Half-hitches. Clove hitch. Overhand knot. Figure-of-eight. Bowline. Running bowline. Bowline-upon-a-bight. Square knot. Timber hitch. Rolling hitch. Blackwall hitch. Cat's paw. Sheet bend. Fisherman's bend. Carrick bend. Bowline bend. Sheep-shank. Selvagee. Marlin-spike hitch. Round seizing. Throat seizing. Stopping. Nippering. Racking. Pointing. Snaking. Grafting. Foxes. Spanish foxes. Gaskets. Sennit. To bend a buoy-rope. To pass a shear-lashing. Those ropes in a ship which are stationary are called _standing rigging_, as shrouds, stays, backstays, &c. Those which reeve through blocks or sheave-holes, and are hauled and let go, are called the _running rigging_, as braces, halyards, buntlines, clewlines, &c. A rope is composed of threads of hemp, or other stuff. These threads are called _yarns_. A number of these yarns twisted together form a _strand_, and three or more strands twisted together form the rope. The ropes in ordinary use on board a vessel are composed of three strands, laid RIGHT HANDED, (1.) or, as it is called, _with the sun_. Occasionally a piece of large rope will be found laid up in four strands, also _with_ the sun. This is generally used for standing rigging, tacks, sheets, &c., and is sometimes called _shroud-laid_. A CABLE-LAID ROPE (2.) is composed of nine strands, and is made by first laying them into three ropes of three strands each, _with_ the sun, and then laying the three ropes up together into one, left-handed, or _against_ the sun. Thus, cable-laid rope is like three small common ropes laid up into one large one. Formerly, the ordinary three-stranded right-hand rope was called _hawser-laid_, and the latter _cable-laid_, and they will be found so distinguished in the books; but among sea-faring men now, the terms _hawser-laid_ and _cable-laid_ are applied indiscriminately to nine-strand rope, and the three stranded, being the usual and ordinary kind of rope, has no particular name, or is called right-hand rope. Right-hand rope must be coiled _with_ the sun, and cable-laid rope _against_ the sun. SPUNYARN is made by twisting together two or more yarns taken from old standing rigging, and is called two-yarn or three-yarn spunyarn, according to the number of yarns of which it is composed. Junk, or old rigging, is first unlaid into strands, and then into yarns, and the best of these yarns made up into spunyarn, which is used for worming, serving, seizing, &c. Every merchant vessel carries a spunyarn-winch, for the manufacturing of this stuff, and in making it, the wheel is turned _against_ the sun, which lays the stuff up with the sun. WORMING a rope, is filling up the divisions between the strands, by passing spunyarn along them, to render the surface smooth for parcelling and serving. PARCELLING a rope is wrapping narrow strips of canvass about it, well tarred, in order to secure it from being injured by rain-water lodging between the parts of the service when worn. The parcelling is put on _with_ the lay of the rope. SERVICE is the laying on of spunyarn, or other small stuff, in turns round the rope, close together, and hove taut by the use of a serving-board for small rope, and serving-mallet for large rope. Small ropes are sometimes served without being wormed, as the crevices between the strands are not large enough to make the surface very uneven; but a large rope is always wormed and parcelled before being served. The service is put on _against_ the lay of the rope. SPLICING, is putting the ends of ropes together by opening the strands and placing them into one another, or by putting the strands of the ends of a rope between those of the bight. A SHORT SPLICE. (3.) Unlay the strands for a convenient length; then take an end in each hand, place them one within the other, and draw them close. Hold the end of one rope and the three strands which come from the opposite rope fast in the left hand, or, if the rope be large, stop them down to it with a rope-yarn. Take the middle strand, which is free, pass it _over_ the strand which is first next to it, and through _under_ the second, and out between the second and third from it, and haul it taut. Pass each of the six strands in the same manner; first those on one side, and then those on the other. The same operation may be repeated with each strand, passing each _over_ the third from it, and _under_ the fourth, and through; or, as is more usual, after the ends have been stuck once, untwist each strand, divide the yarns, pass one half as above described, and cut off the other half. This tapers the splice. A LONG SPLICE. (4.) Unlay the ends of two ropes to a distance three or four times greater than for a short splice, and place them within one another as for a short splice. Unlay one strand for a considerable distance, and fill up the interval which it leaves with the opposite strand from the other rope, and twist the ends of these two together. Then do the same with two more strands. The two remaining strands are twisted together in the place where they were first crossed. Open the two last named strands, divide in two, take an overhand knot with the opposite halves, and lead the ends over the next strand and through the second, as the whole strands were passed for the short splice. Cut off the other two halves. Do the same with the others that are placed together, dividing, knotting, and passing them in the same manner. Before cutting off any of the half strands, the rope should be got well upon a stretch. Sometimes the whole strands are knotted then divided, and the half strands passed as above described. AN EYE SPLICE. (5.) Unlay the end of a rope for a short distance, and lay the three strands upon the standing part, so as to form an eye. Put one end through the strand next to it. Put the next end over that strand and through the second; and put the remaining end through the third strand, on the other side of the rope. Taper them, as in the short splice, by dividing the strands and sticking them again. A FLEMISH EYE. (6.) Take the end of a rope and unlay one strand. Form an eye by placing the two remaining ends against the standing part. Pass the strand which has been unlaid over the end and in the intervals round the eye, until it returns down the standing part, and lies under the eye with the strands. The ends are then scraped down, tapered, marled, and served over with spunyarn. AN ARTIFICIAL OR SPINDLE EYE.--Unlay the end of a rope and open the strands, separating each rope yarn. Take a piece of wood, the size of the intended eye, and hitch the yarns round it. Scrape them down, marl, parcel, and serve them. This is now usually called a FLEMISH EYE. A CUT SPLICE. (7.) Cut a rope in two, unlay each end as for a short splice, and place the ends of each rope against the standing part of the other, forming an oblong eye, of the size you wish. Then pass the ends through the strands of the standing parts, as for a short splice. A GROMMET. (8.) Take a strand just unlaid from a rope, with all its turns in it, and form a ring of the size you wish, by putting the end over the standing part. Then take the long end and carry it twice round the ring, in the crevices, following the lay, until the ring is complete. Then take an overhand knot with the two ends, divide the yarns, and stick them as in a long splice. A SINGLE WALL KNOT. (9.) Unlay the end of a rope. Form a bight with one strand, holding its end down to the standing part in your left hand. Pass the end of the next strand round this strand. Pass the remaining strand round the end of the second strand, and up through the bight which was made by the first strand. Haul the ends taut carefully, one by one. A SINGLE WALL, CROWNED. (10.) Make the single wall as before, and lay one end over the top of the knot. Lay the second end over the first, and the third over the second and through the bight of the first. A DOUBLE WALL. (11.) Make the single wall slack, and crown it, as above. Then take one end, bring it underneath the part of the first walling next to it, and push it up through the same bight. Do the same with the other strands, pushing them up through two bights. Thus made, it has a double wall and a single crown. A DOUBLE WALL, DOUBLE CROWNED. (12.) Make the double wall, single crowned, as above. Then lay the strands by the sides of those in the single crown, pushing them through the same bight in the single crown, and down through the double walling. This is sometimes called a TACK KNOT, or a TOPSAIL SHEET KNOT. A MATTHEW WALKER KNOT. (13.) Unlay the end of a rope. Take one strand round the rope and through its own bight; then the next strand underneath, through the bight of the first, and through its own bight; and the third strand underneath, through both the other bights, and through its own bight. A SINGLE DIAMOND KNOT. (14.) Unlay the end of a rope for a considerable distance, and with the strands form three bights down the side of the rope, holding them fast with the left hand. Take the end of one strand and pass it with the lay of the rope over the strand next to it, and up through the bight of the third. Take the end of the second strand over the third and up through the bight of the first. Take the end of the third strand over the first and up through the bight of the second. Haul taut, and lay the ends up together. A DOUBLE DIAMOND KNOT. (15.) Make a single diamond, as above, without laying the ends up. Follow the lead of the single knot through two single bights, the ends coming out at the top of the knot. Lead the last strand through two double bights. Haul taut, and lay the ends up. A SPRITSAIL SHEET KNOT. (16.) Unlay two ends of a rope, and place the two parts together. Make a bight with one strand. Wall the six strands together, like a single walling made with three strands; putting the second over the first, and the third over the second, and so on, the sixth being passed over the fifth and through the bight of the first. Then haul taut. It may be _crowned_ by taking two strands and laying them over the top of the knot, and passing the other strands alternately over and under those two, hauling them taut. It may be _double walled_ by next passing the strands under the wallings on the left of them, and through the small bights, when the ends will come up for the second crowning; which is done by following the lead of the single crowning, and pushing the ends through the single walling, as with three strands, before described. This is often used for a _stopper knot_. A STOPPER KNOT.--Single wall and double wall, without crowning, and stop the ends together. A SHROUD KNOT.--Unlay the ends of two ropes, and place the strands in one another, as for a short splice. Single wall the strands of one rope round the standing part of the other, against the lay. Open the ends, taper, marl, and serve them. A FRENCH SHROUD KNOT.--Place the ends of two ropes as before. Lay the ends of one rope back upon their own part, and single wall the other three strands round the bights of the first three and the standing part. Taper the ends, as before. A BUOY-ROPE KNOT.--Unlay the strands of a cable-laid rope, and also the small strands of each large strand. Lay the large ones again as before, leaving the small ones out. Single and double wall the small strands (as for a stopper knot) round the rope, worm them along the divisions, and stop their ends with spunyarn. A TURKS-HEAD. (17.) This is worked upon a rope with a piece of small line. Take a clove-hitch slack with the line round the rope. Then take one of the bights formed by the clove-hitch and put it over the other. Pass the end under, and up through the bight which is underneath. Then cross the bights again, and put the end round again, under, and up through the bight which is underneath. After this, follow the lead, and it will make a turban, of three parts to each cross. TWO HALF-HITCHES. (18.) Pass the end of a rope round the standing part and bring it up through the bight. This is a half-hitch. Take it round again in the same manner for two half-hitches. A CLOVE-HITCH (19.) is made by passing the end of a rope round a spar, over, and bringing it under and round behind its standing part, over the spar again, and up through its own part. It may then, if necessary, be stopped or hitched to its own part: the only difference between two half-hitches and a clove-hitch being that one is hitched round its own standing part, and the other is hitched round a spar or another rope. AN OVERHAND KNOT. (20.) Pass the end of a rope over the standing part, and through the bight. A FIGURE-OF-EIGHT. (21.) Pass the end of a rope over and round the standing part, up over its own part, and down through the bight. A BOWLINE KNOT. (22.) Take the end of a rope in your right hand, and the standing part in your left. Lay the end over the standing part, and with the left hand make a bight of the standing part over it. Take the end under the lower standing part, up over the cross, and down through the bight. A RUNNING BOWLINE.--Take the end round the standing part, and make a bowline upon its own part. A BOWLINE UPON A BIGHT. (23.) Middle a rope, taking the two ends in your left hand, and the bight in your right. Lay the bight over the ends, and proceed as in making a bowline, making a small bight with your left hand of the ends, which are kept together, over the bight which you hold in your right hand. Pass the bight in your right hand round under the ends and up over the cross. So far, it is like a common bowline, only made with double rope instead of single. Then open the bight in your right hand and carry it over the large bights, letting them go through it, and bring it up to the cross and haul taut. A SQUARE KNOT. (24.) Take an overhand knot round a spar. Take an end in each hand and cross them on the same side of the standing part upon which they came up. Pass one end round the other, and bring it up through the bight. This is sometimes called a REEF-KNOT. If the ends are crossed the wrong way, sailors call it a GRANNY-KNOT. A TIMBER HITCH. (25.) Take the end of a rope round a spar, lead it under and over the standing part, and pass two or more round-turns round its own part. A ROLLING HITCH.--Pass the end of a rope round a spar. Take it round a second time, nearer to the standing part. Then carry it across the standing part, over and round the spar, and up through the bight. A strap or a tail-block is fastened to a rope by this hitch. A bend, sometimes called a _rolling hitch_, is made by two round-turns round a spar and two half-hitches round the standing part; but the name is commonly applied to the former hitch. A BLACKWALL HITCH. (26.) Form a bight by putting the end of a rope across and under the standing part. Put the bight over the hook of a tackle, letting the hook go through it, the centre of the bight resting against the back of the hook, and the end jammed in the bight of the hook, by the standing part of the rope. A CAT'S PAW. (27.) Make a large bight in a rope, and spread it open, putting one hand at one part of the bight and the other at the other, and letting the standing part and end come together. Turn the bight over from you, three times, and a small bight will be formed in each hand. Bring the two small bights together, and put the hook of a tackle through them both. A SHEET BEND. (28.) Pass the end of a rope up through the bight of another, round both parts of the other, and under its own part. A FISHERMAN'S BEND. (29.) Used for bending studdingsail halyards to the yard. Take two turns round the yard with the end. Hitch it round the standing part and both the turns. Then hitch it round the standing part alone. A CARRICK BEND. (30.) Form a bight by putting the end of a rope over its standing part. Take the end of a second rope and pass it _under_ the standing part of the first, _over_ the end, and _up_ through the bight, _over_ its own standing part, and _down_ through the bight again. A BOWLINE BEND.--This is the most usual mode of bending warps, and other long ropes or cables, together. Take a bowline in the end of one rope, pass the end of the other through the bight, and take a bowline with it upon its own standing part. Long lines are sometimes bent together with half-hitches on their own standing parts, instead of bowlines, and the ends seized strongly down. A SHEEP-SHANK. (31.) Make two long bights in a rope, which shall overlay one another. Take a half-hitch over the end of each bight with the standing part which is next to it. A SELVAGEE.--Lay rope yarns round and round in a bight, and marl them down with spunyarn. These are used for neat block-straps, and as straps to go round a spar for a tackle to hook into, for hoisting. A MARLINSPIKE HITCH--Lay the marlinspike upon the seizing-stuff, and bring the end over the standing part so as to form a bight. Lay this bight back over the standing part, putting the marlinspike down through the bight, under the standing part, and up through the bight again. TO PASS A ROUND SEIZING.--Splice a small eye in the end of the stuff, take the other end round both parts of the rope, and reeve it through the eye. Pass a couple of turns, then take a marlinspike-hitch, and heave them taut. Pass six, eight or ten turns in the same manner, and heave them taut. Put the end through under these turns and bring it out between the two last turns, or through the eye, and pass five, seven or nine turns (one less than the lower ones) directly over these, as riders. The riders are not hove so taut. Pass the end up through the seizings, and take two cross turns round the whole seizing between the two, passing the end through the last turn, and heaving taut. If the seizing is small cordage, take a wall-knot in the end; if spunyarn, an overhand knot. The cross turns are given up now in nearly all vessels. After the riding turns are passed, the end is carried under the turns, brought out at the other end, and made fast snugly to the standing part of the rigging. A THROAT SEIZING, where rigging is turned in, is passed and made fast like the preceding, there being no cross turns. A neat way to pass a throat seizing is to pass the turns rather slack, put a strap upon the end of the rigging, take a handspike or heaver to it and bear it down, driving home the seizing with a mallet and small fid. STOPPING, is fastening two parts of a rope together as for a round seizing, without a crossing. NIPPERING, is fastening them by taking turns crosswise between the parts, to jam them; and sometimes with a round turn before each cross. These are called _racking turns_. Pass _riders_ over these and fasten the end. POINTING.--Unlay the end of a rope and stop it. Take out as many yarns as are necessary, and split each yarn in two, and take two parts of different yarns and twist them up taut into _nettles_. The rest of the yarns are combed down with a knife. Lay half the nettles down upon the scraped part, the rest back upon the rope, and pass three turns of twine taut round the part where the nettles separate, and hitch the twine, which is called the _warp_. Lay the nettles backwards and forwards as before, passing the warp, each time. The ends may be whipped and snaked with twine, or the nettles hitched over the warp and hauled taut. The upper seizing must be snaked. If the upper part is too weak for pointing, put in a piece of stick. SNAKING a seizing, is done by taking the end under and over the outer turns of the seizing alternately, passing over the whole. There should be a marline-hitch at each turn. GRAFTING.--Unlay the ends of two ropes and put them together as for a short splice. Make nettles of the strands as before. Pass the warp and nettles belonging to the lower strands along the rope, as in pointing; then the nettles of the upper strands in the same manner. Snake the seizing at each end. FOXES are made by twisting together three or more rope-yarns by hand, and rubbing them hard with tarred canvass. _Spanish foxes_ are made of one rope-yarn, by unlaying it and laying it up the other way. GASKETS.--Take three or four foxes, middle them, and plait them together into _sennit_. This is done by bringing the two outside foxes alternately over to the middle. The outside ones are laid with the right hand, and the remainder are held and steadied with the left. Having plaited enough for an eye, bring all the parts together, and work them all into one piece, in the same manner. Take out foxes at proper intervals. When finished, one end must be laid up, the other plaited, and the first hauled through. The name _sennit_ is generally given to rope yarns plaited in the same manner with these foxes. Sennit made in this way must have an odd number of parts. FRENCH SENNIT is made with an even number, taken over and under every other time. TO BEND A BUOY-ROPE. Reeve the end through the eye in the other end, put it over one arm of the anchor, and haul taut. Take a hitch over the other arm. Or, take a clove-hitch over the crown, stopping the end to its own part, or to the shank. TO PASS A SHEAR-LASHING.--Middle the lashing and take a good turn round both legs, at the cross. Pass one end up and the other down, around and over the cross, until half of the lashing is expended. Then ride both ends back again on their own parts and knot them in the middle. Frap the first and riding turns together on each side with sennit. CHAPTER VIII. BLOCKS AND PURCHASES. Parts of a block. Made and morticed blocks. Bull's-eye. Dead-eye. Sister-block. Snatch-block. Tail-block. Whip. Gun-tackle. Luff-tackle. Whip-upon-whip. Luff-upon-luff. Watch or tail-tackle. Runner-tackle. Blocks are of two kinds, _made_ and _morticed_. A _made block_ consists of four parts,--the _shell_, or outside; the _sheave_, or wheel on which the rope turns; the _pin_, or axle on which the wheel turns; and the _strap_, either of rope or iron, which encircles the whole, and keeps it in its place. The sheave is generally strengthened by letting in a piece of iron or brass at the centre, called a _bush_. A MORTICED BLOCK is made of a single block of wood, morticed out to receive a sheave. All blocks are single, double, or three-fold, according to the number of sheaves in them. There are some blocks that have no sheaves; as follows: a _bull's-eye_, which is a wooden thimble without a sheave, having a hole through the centre and a groove round it; and a _dead-eye_, which is a solid block of wood made in a circular form, with a groove round it, and three holes bored through it, for the lanyards to reeve through. A SISTER-BLOCK is formed of one solid piece of wood, with two sheaves, one above the other, and between the sheaves a score for the middle seizing. These are oftener without sheaves than with. SNATCH-BLOCKS are single blocks, with a notch cut in one cheek, just below the sheave, so as to receive the bight of a fall, without the trouble of reeving and unreeving the whole. They are generally iron-bound, and have a hook at one end. A TAIL-BLOCK is a single block, strapped with an eye-splice, and having a long end left, by which to make the block fast temporarily to the rigging. This tail is usually selvageed, or else the strands are opened and laid up into sennit, as for a gasket. A TACKLE is a purchase formed by reeving a rope through two or more blocks, for the purpose of hoisting. A WHIP is the smallest purchase, and is made by a rope rove through one single block. A GUN-TACKLE PURCHASE is a rope rove through two single blocks and made fast to the strap of the upper block. The parts of all tackles between the fasts and a sheave, are called the _standing parts_; the parts between sheaves are called _running parts_; and the part upon which you take hold in hoisting is called the _fall_. A WHIP-UPON-WHIP is where the block of one whip is made fast to the fall of another. A LUFF-TACKLE PURCHASE is a single and a double block; the end of the rope being fast to the upper part of the single block, and the fall coming from the double block. A luff-tackle upon the fall of another luff-tackle is called _luff-upon-luff_. A WATCH-TACKLE or TAIL-TACKLE is a luff-tackle purchase, with a hook in the end of the single block, and a tail to the upper end of the double block. One of these purchases, with a short fall, is kept on deck, at hand, in merchant vessels, and is used to clap upon standing and running rigging, and to get a strain upon ropes. A RUNNER-TACKLE is a luff applied to a runner, which is a single rope rove through a single block, hooked to a thimble in the eye of a pennant. A SINGLE BURTON is composed of two single blocks, with a hook in the bight of the running part. Reeve the end of your rope through the upper block, and make it fast to the strap of the fly-block. Then make fast your hook to the bight of the rope, and reeve the other end through the fly-block for a fall. The hook is made fast by passing the bight of the rope through the eye of the hook and over the whole. CHAPTER IX. MAKING AND TAKING IN SAIL. To loose a sail. To set a course--Topsail--Topgallant sail--Royal--Skysail--Jib--Spanker--Spencer. To take in a course--Topsail--Topgallant sail or royal--Skysail--Jib--Spanker. To furl a royal--Topgallant sail--Topsail--Course--Jib. To stow a jib in cloth. To reef a topsail--Course. To turn out reefs. To set a topgallant studdingsail. To take in do. To set a topmast studdingsail. To take in do. To set a lower studdingsail. To take in do. TO LOOSE A SAIL.--Lay out to the yard-arms and cast off the gaskets, beginning at the outermost and coming in.[2] When the gaskets are cast off from both yard-arms, then let go the bunt gasket, (and jigger, if there be one,) and overhaul the buntlines and leechlines. In loosing a topsail in a gale of wind, it is better to cast off the quarter-gaskets, (except the one which confines the clew,) before those at the yard-arms. Royals and topgallant sails generally have one long gasket to each yard-arm; in which case it is not necessary to go out upon the yard, but the gaskets, after being cast off, should be fastened to the tye by a bowline. [2] If only one yard-arm is loosed at a time, let the lee one be loosed first. TO SET A COURSE.--Loose the sail and overhaul the buntlines and leechlines. Let go the clew-garnets and overhaul them, and haul down on the sheets and tacks. If the ship is close-hauled, ease off the lee brace, slack the weather lift and clew-garnet, and get the tack well down to the water-ways. If it is blowing fresh and the ship light-handed, take it to the windlass. When the tack is well down, sharpen the yard up again by the brace, top it well up by the lift, reeve and haul out the bowline, and haul the sheet aft. If the wind is quartering, the mainsail is carried with the weather clew hauled up and the sheet taken aft. With yards squared, the mainsail is never carried, but the foresail may be to advantage, especially if the swinging booms are out; in which case the heavy tack and sheet-blocks may be unhooked, and the _lazy sheets_ hooked on and rove through a single tail-block, made fast out on the boom. This serves to extend the clews, and is called a _pazaree_ to the foresail. TO SET A TOPSAIL.--Loose the sail, and keep one hand in the top to overhaul the rigging. Overhaul well the buntlines, clewlines, and reef-tackles, let go the topgallant sheets and topsail braces, and haul home on the sheets. Merchant vessels usually hoist a little on the halyards, so as to clear the sail from the top, then belay them and get the lee sheet chock home; then haul home the weather sheet, shivering the sail by the braces to help it home, and hoist on the halyards until the leeches are well taut, taking a turn with the braces, if the wind is fresh, and slacking them as the yard goes up. After the sail is set, it is sometimes necessary to get the sheets closer home. Slack the halyards, lee brace, and weather bowline, clap the watch-tackle upon the lee sheet first, and then the weather one, shivering the sail by the braces if necessary. Overhaul the clewlines and reef-tackles, slack the topgallant sheets, and hoist the sail up, taut leech, by the halyards. TO SET A TOPGALLANT SAIL OR ROYAL.--Haul home the lee sheet, having one hand aloft to overhaul the clewlines, then the weather sheet, and hoist up, taut leech, by the halyards. While hauling the sheets home, if on the wind, brace up a little to shake the sail, take a turn with the weather brace, and let go the lee one; if before the wind, let go both braces; and if the wind is quartering, the lee one. TO SET A FLYING SKYSAIL.--If bent in the manner described in this book, let go the brails and royal stay, and hoist on the halyards. TO SET A JIB, FLYING-JIB, OR FORE TOPMAST STAYSAIL.--Cast off the gasket, hoist on the halyards, and trim down the sheet. TO SET A SPANKER.--Hoist on the topping-lifts, make fast the weather one, and overhaul the lee one. Let go the brails, and haul out on the outhaul. Be careful not to let the throat brail go before the head and foot. Trim the boom by the sheets and guys, and the gaff by the vangs. TO SET A SPENCER.--Take the sheet to the deck on the lee side of the stay, let go the brails, haul on the sheet, and trim the gaff by the vangs. TO TAKE IN A COURSE.--If the wind is light and there are hands enough, let go the tack, sheet, and bowline, and haul up on the clew-garnets, buntlines, and leechlines, being careful not to haul the buntlines taut until the clews are well up. If light-handed, or the wind fresh, let go the bowline and ease off the tack, (being careful to let the bowline go before the tack,) and haul up the weather clew. Then ease off the sheet and haul up on the lee clew-garnet, and the buntlines and leechlines. TO TAKE IN A TOPSAIL.--The usual mode of taking in a topsail when coming to anchor in light winds, is to lower away on the halyards and haul down on the clewlines and reef-tackles, (if the latter run in the way described in this book,) until the yard is down by the lifts, rounding in on the weather brace, and hauling taut to leeward, when the yard is square. Then let go the sheets and haul up on the clewlines and buntlines. A better way is to start the sheets, clew about one third up, then let go the halyards and take the slack in. If the wind is fresh, and the yard braced up, lower away handsomely on the halyards, get the yard down by the clewlines and reef-tackles, rounding in on the weather brace, and steadying the yard by both braces. Then let go the weather sheet and haul up to windward first. The weather clew being up, let go the lee sheet and haul up by the clewline and buntlines, keeping the clew in advance of the body of the sail. Sometimes, if the weather brace cannot be well rounded in, as if a ship is weak-handed, the sail may be clewed up to leeward a little, first. In which case, ease off the lee sheet, and haul up on the clewline; ease off the lee brace and round the yard in; and when the lee clew is about half up, ease off the weather sheet and haul the weather clew chock up. Haul the buntlines up after the weather clew, and steady the yard by the braces. There is danger in clewing up to leeward first that the sail may be shaken and jerked so as to split, before the weather clew is up; whereas, if clewed up to windward first, the lee clew will keep full, until the lee sheet is started. When coming to anchor, it is the best plan to haul the clews about half up before the halyards are let go. In taking in a close-reefed topsail in a gale of wind, the most general practice is to clew up to windward, keeping the sail full; then lower away the halyards, and ease off the lee sheet; clew the yard down, and haul up briskly on the lee clewline and the buntlines, bracing to the wind the moment the lee sheet is started. TO TAKE IN A TOPGALLANT SAIL OR ROYAL.--If the wind is light, and from aft or quartering, let go the halyards and clew down, squaring the yard by the braces. Then start the sheets and clew up, and haul up the buntlines. If the yard is braced up, the old style was to let go the halyards, clew down and round in on the weather brace; clewing up to windward first, then start the lee clew, and haul up the lee clewline and the buntlines. But the practice now is to clew up to leeward first, which prevents the slack of the sail getting too much over to leeward, or foul of the clewline block under the yard, as it is apt to, if the weather clew is hauled up first. If the wind is very fresh, and the vessel close-hauled, a good practice is to let go the lee sheet and halyards, and clew down, rounding in at the same time on the weather brace. Then start the weather sheet, and haul the weather clew chock up. Haul up the buntlines and steady the yard by the braces. TO TAKE IN A SKYSAIL.--If bent in the way described in this book, which is believed to be the most convenient, let go the halyards, haul down on the brails, and haul taut the royal stay. TO TAKE IN A JIB.--Let go the halyards, haul on the downhaul, easing off the sheet as the halyards are let go. TO TAKE IN A SPANKER.--Ease off the outhaul, and haul well up on the lee brails, taking in the slack of the weather ones. Mind particularly the lee throat-brail. Haul the boom amidships and steady it by the guys, lower the topping lifts, and square the gaff by the vangs. TO FURL A ROYAL.--This sail is usually furled by one person, and is that upon which green hands are practised. For the benefit of beginners, I will give particular directions. When you have got aloft to the topgallant mast-head, see, in the first place, that the yard is well down by the lifts, and steadied by the braces; then see that both clews are hauled chock up to the blocks, and if they are not, call out to the officer of the deck, and have it done. Then see your yard-arm gaskets clear. The best way is to cast them off from the tye, and lay them across, between the tye and the mast. This done, stretch out on the weather yard-arm, get hold of the weather leech, and bring it in to the slings taut along the yard. Hold the clew up with one hand, and with the other haul all the sail through the clew, letting it fall in the bunt. Bring the weather clew a little over abaft the yard, and put your knee upon it. Then stretch out to leeward and bring in the lee leech in the same manner, hauling all the sail through the clew, and putting the clew upon the yard in the same way, and holding it there by your other knee. Then prepare to make up your bunt. First get hold of the foot-rope and lay it on the yard and abaft; then take up the body of the sail, and lay it on the yard, seeing that it is all fairly through the clews. Having got all the sail upon the yard, make a _skin_ of the upper part of the body of the sail, large enough to come well down abaft and cover the whole bunt when the sail is furled. Lift the skin up, and put into the bunt the slack of the clews (not too taut,) the leech and foot-rope, and the body of the sail; being careful not to let it get forward under the yard or hang down abaft. Then haul your bunt well upon the yard, smoothing the skin, and bringing it down well abaft, and make fast the bunt-gasket round the mast, and the jigger, if there be one, to the tye. The glut will always come in the middle of the bunt, if it is properly made up. Now take your weather yard-arm gasket and pass it round the yard, three or four times, haul taut, and make it fast to the mast; then the lee one in the same manner. Never make a long gasket fast to its own part round the yard, for it may work loose and slip out to the yard-arm. Always pass a gasket _over_ the yard and down abaft, which will help to bring the sail upon the yard. A TOPGALLANT SAIL is furled in the same manner, except that it usually requires two men, in a large vessel; in which case, each man takes a yard-arm, and they make the bunt up together. If there are buntlines and a jigger, the bunt may be triced well up, by bending the jigger to the bight of a buntline, and having it hauled taut on deck. TO FURL A TOPSAIL OR COURSE.--The sail being hauled up, lay out on the yard, the two most experienced men standing in the slings, one on each side of the mast, to make the bunt up. The light hands lay out to the yard-arms, and take the leech up and bring it taut along the yard. In this way the clews are reached and handed to the men in the bunt, and the slack of the sail hauled through them and stowed away on and abaft the yard. The bunt being made up fairly on the yard against the mast, and the skin prepared, let it fall a little forward, and stow all the body of the sail, the clews, bolt-rope, and blocks, away in it; then, as many as can get hold, lend a hand to haul it well upon the yard. Overhaul a buntline a little, bend the jigger to it, and trice up on deck. Bring the skin down well abaft, see that the clews are not too taut, pass the bunt gasket, cast the jigger off, and make it fast slack to the tye. Then pass the yard-arm gaskets, hauling the sail well upon the yard, and passing the turns over the yard, and down abaft. If the sail has long gaskets, make them fast to the tye; if short, pass them in turns close together, and make them fast to their own parts, jammed as well as possible. TO FURL A JIB.--Go out upon the weather side of the boom. See your gasket clear for passing. The handiest way usually is, to make it up on its end, take a hitch over the whole with the standing part, and let it hang. Haul the sail well upon the boom, getting the clew, and having the sheet pennant hauled amidships. Cast the hitch off the gasket, take it in your hand, and pass two or three turns, beginning at the head; haul them taut; and so on to the clew. Pass the turns over and to windward. This will help to bring the sail upon the boom and to windward. Make the end fast to the stay, to the withe, or to the boom inside the cap, in any way that shall keep it from slipping back, which it might do if made fast to its own part round the boom. If there is but one hand on the boom, the first turns may be hauled taut enough to keep the sail up for the time; then, after the gasket is fast, go out to the head, and haul each turn well taut, beating the sail down with the hand. Be careful to confine the clew well. TO STOW A JIB IN CLOTH.--Haul the jib down snugly, and get it fairly up on the boom. Overhaul the after leech until you come to the first straight cloth. Gather this cloth over the rest of the sail on the boom, stopping the outer end of the cloth with a rope-yarn round the jib stay. If the jib halyards are double, stop the block inside the sail. Cover the sail well up with the cloth, stopping it at every two feet with rope-yarns round the sail and boom. If you are to lie in port for a long time, cast off the pennant, stow the clew on the boom, snugly under the cloth, which will be stopped as before with rope-yarns. TO REEF A TOPSAIL.--Round in on the weather brace, ease off the halyards, and clew the yard down by the clewlines and reef-tackles. Brace the yard in nearly to the wind, and haul taut both braces. Haul out the reef-tackles, make fast, and haul taut the buntlines. Before going upon the yard, see that it is well down by the lifts. Let the best men go to the yard-arms, and the light hands remain in the slings. Cast adrift the weather earing, pass it _over_ the yard-arm outside the lift, down abaft and under the yard, and _up_ through the reef-cringle. Haul well out, and take a round-turn with the earing round the cringle. Then pass several turns round the yard and through the cringle, hauling them well taut, passing the turns _over_ the yard, down abaft and under, and _up_ through the cringle.[3] Having expended nearly all the earing, hitch the remainder round the two first parts, that go outside the lift, jamming them together and passing several turns round them both to expend the rope. The bare end may be hitched to these two parts or to the lift. The men on the yard light the sail out to windward by the reef-points, to help the man at the weather yard-arm in hauling out his earing. As soon as the weather earing is hauled out and made secure by a turn or two, the word is passed--"Haul out to leeward," and the lee earing is hauled out till the band is taut along the yard, and made fast in the same manner. Then the men on the yard tie the reef-points with square knots, being careful to take the after points clear of the topgallant sheets. [3] Be careful to pass the turns clear of the topgallant sheets. In reefing, a good deal depends upon the way in which the yard is laid. If the yard is braced too much in, the sail catches flat aback and cannot be hauled out, besides the danger of knocking the men off the foot-ropes. The best way is to shiver the sail well till the yard is down, then brace it in with a slight full, make the braces fast, and luff up occasionally and shake the sail while the men are reefing. If you are going before the wind, you may, by putting your helm either way, and bringing the wind abeam, clew the yard down as the sail lifts, and keep her in this position, with the yard braced sharp up, until the sail is reefed; or, if you are not willing to keep off from your course, and the wind is very fresh, clew down and clew up, and reef as before directed. All the reefs are taken in the same way except the _close reef_. In close reefing, pass your earing _under_ the yard, up abaft and over, and _down_ through the cringle. Pass all your turns in the same manner; and bring the reef-band well under the yard in knotting, so as to cover the other reefs. As soon as the men are off the yard, let go the reef-tackles, clewlines, buntlines, and topgallant sheets; man the halyards, let go the lee brace, slack off the weather one, and hoist away. When well up, trim the yard by the braces, and haul out the bowlines. A reefed sail should never be braced quite sharp up, and if there is a heavy sea and the vessel pitches badly, ease the braces a little, that the yard may play freely, and do not haul the leech too taut. TO REEF A COURSE.--As a course generally has no reef-tackle, you must clew it up as for furling, according to the directions before given, except that the clews are not hauled chock up. Lay out on the yard and haul out the earings, and knot the points as for the first reef of a topsail, seeing them clear of the topsail sheets. If a long course of bad weather is anticipated, as in doubling the southern capes, or crossing the Atlantic in winter, reef-tackles are rove for the courses. If there are any studdingsail booms on the lower or topsail yards, they must be triced up before reefing. TO TURN OUT REEFS.--For a topsail, haul taut the reef-tackles and buntlines, settle a little on the halyards, if necessary; lay aloft, and cast off all the reef-points, beginning at the bunt and laying out. Be careful to cast all off before slacking up the earing; for, when there is more than one reef, a point may be easily left, if care is not taken. Have one hand at each earing, cast off all the turns but enough to hold it, and when both earings are ready, ease off both together. Pass the end of the earing through the cringle next above its own, and make it fast slack to its own part by a bowline knot. Lay in off the yard, let go reef-tackles, clewlines, buntlines, and topgallant sheets; overhaul them in the top and hoist away, slacking the braces and trimming the yard. The reefs of a course are turned out a good deal in the same manner; slacking up the sheet and tack, if necessary, and, when the earings are cast off, let go clew-garnets, buntlines and leechlines, board the tack, and haul aft the sheet. TO SET A TOPGALLANT STUDDINGSAIL.--This sail is always set from the top; the sail, together with the tack and halyards in two coils, being kept in the top. If there is but one hand aloft, take the end of the halyards aloft, _abaft_ everything, and reeve it _up_ through the block at the topgallant mast-head, and _down_ through the sheave-hole or block at the topgallant yard-arm, _abaft_ the sheet, and bring it into the top, forward of the rigging, and make it fast to the forward shroud. Take the end of your tack out on the topsail yard, _under_ the brace, reeve it _up_ through the block at the end of the topgallant studdingsail boom, bring it in _over_ the brace, overhauling a plenty of it so as to let the boom go out, and hitch it to the topmast rigging while you rig your boom out. Cast off the heel-lashing and rig your boom out to the mark, slue the boom with the block up and make fast round the yard. (The easiest way of passing the boom-lashing is to take it over the yard and put a bight up between the head-rope and yard; then take the end back over the yard and boom and through the bight, and haul taut. This may be done twice, if necessary, and then hitch it round all parts, between the boom and the yard.) The boom being rigged out and fast, take the end of your tack down into the top and hitch it to the forward shroud. Then take the coil of the tack and throw the other end down on deck, outside of the rigging and backstays. (It is well, in throwing the coil down, to keep hold of the bight with one hand, for otherwise, if they should miss it on deck, you will have to rig in your boom.) Throw down the hauling end of your halyards abaft and inside everything. Now get your sail clear for sending out. Lay the yard across the top, forward of the rigging, with the outer end out. Bend your halyards to the yard by a fisherman's bend, about one third of the way out. Take your tack under the yard and bend it by a sheet-bend to the outer clew, and pay down the sheet and downhaul through the lubber-hole. All being clear for hoisting, sway away on the halyards on deck, the men in the top guying the sail by the sheet and downhaul, the latter being hauled taut enough to keep the outer clew up to the inner yard-arm. (Sometimes it is well to make up the downhaul as is done with the downhaul of the topmast studdingsail.) When the sail is above the brace, haul out on the tack, sway the yard chock up by the halyards, and trim the sheet down. Make the end of the downhaul fast slack. A weather topgallant or topmast studdingsail should be set abaft the sail, and a lee one forward of the sail. Therefore, in setting a lee topgallant studdingsail, it is well to send it out of the top with a turn in it, that is, with the inner yard-arm slued forward and out, so that when the tack and sheet are hauled upon, the inner yard-arm will swing forward of the topgallant sail.[4] [4] It will assist this operation to keep hold of the outer leech until the sail is clear of the top. Small sized vessels have no downhaul to the topgallant studdingsails. This saves confusion, and is very well if the sail is small. TO TAKE IN A TOPGALLANT STUDDINGSAIL.--Let go the tack and clew up the downhaul, dipping the yard abaft the leech of the topgallant sail, if it is forward. Lower away handsomely on the halyards, hauling down on the sheet and downhaul. When the yard is below the topsail brace, lower roundly and haul into the top, forward of the rigging. If the sail is taken in temporarily, stand the yard up and down and becket it to the middle topmast shroud; make the sail up, hitch the bight of the tack and halyards to the forward shroud, and haul up the sheet and downhaul. If everything is to be stowed away, unreeve the tack and halyards, and coil them away separately in the top; also coil away the sheets and downhaul, and stop all the coils down by hitches passed through the slats of the top. Rig the boom in and make it fast to the tye. Sometimes the halyards are unrove from the yard-arm and rounded up to the span-block, with a knot in their end. TO SET A TOPMAST STUDDINGSAIL.--The topmast studdingsail halyards are generally kept coiled away in the top. Take the end up, reeve it _up_ through the span-block at the cap, and _out_ through the block at the topsail yard-arm, and pay the end down to the forecastle, forward of the yard and outside the bowline. Pay the hauling end down through the lubber-hole. Reeve your lower halyards. These are usually kept coiled away in the top, with the pennant, which hooks to the cap of the lower mast. Hook the pennant, reeve the halyards _up_ through the pennant block, _out_ through the block on the boom-end, and pay the end down to the forecastle. Pay the hauling end down _forward_ of the top. (Some vessels keep their top-mast studdingsail tacks coiled away at the yard-arm, and hitched down to the boom and yard. This is a clumsy practice, and saves no time or trouble. The best way is to unreeve them whenever the boom is to be rigged in, and coil them away in the bow of the long-boat, or elsewhere. There is no more trouble, and less liability to confusion, in reeving them afresh, than in coiling them away and clearing again on the yard-arms.) Carry your tack outside the backstays and lower rigging, clear of everything, out upon the lower yard under the brace; reeve it _forward_ through the tack-block at the boom-end, first sluing the block up, and pay the end down forward of the yard. Rig the boom out to the mark and lash it. Get the studdingsail on the forecastle clear for setting. Bend the halyards to the yard, about one half of the way out. Hitch the end of the downhaul over the inner yard-arm by the eye in its end, reeve it through the lizard on the outer leech, and through the block at the outer clew abaft the sail. Bend the tack to the outer clew, and take a turn with the sheet. Clew the yard down by the downhaul, and make the downhaul up just clear of the block, by a catspaw doubled and the bight of the running part shoved through the bight of all the parts, so that hauling on it may clear it and let the yard go up. Hoist on the halyards until the sail is above the lower yard, guying it by the sheet and downhaul, then haul out on the tack until the clew is chock out to the boom-end, hoist on the halyards, jerking the downhaul clear, and trim down the sheet. TO TAKE IN A TOPMAST STUDDINGSAIL.--Lower away handsomely on the halyards, clewing the yard down to the outer clew by the downhaul. Slack up the tack, and lower away on the halyards, hauling down well on the sheet and downhaul, till the sail is in upon the forecastle. The sail may be made up on the forecastle, and the end of the tack and halyards made fast forward, if it is to be soon set again. If not, cast off all, unreeve your tack, hauling from aft, and coil it away. Unreeve the halyards, or round them up to the block at the mast-head with a knot in their end. Rig the boom in, and lash it to the slings. TO SET A LOWER STUDDINGSAIL.--Before rigging out the top-mast studdingsail boom, the lower halyards should always be rove, as before directed. Reeve the inner halyards _out_ through a small single block under the slings of the lower yard, and through another about two thirds of the way out, and pay the end down upon the forecastle for bending. Get the studdingsail clear, bend the outer halyards to the yard, and the inner halyards to the inner cringle at the head of the sail. Reeve the outhaul through the block at the swinging-boom-end, and bend the forward end to the outer clew of the sail. Hook the topping-lift and forward guy to the boom, and top up on it. Haul on the forward guy, and ease off the after one, slacking away a little on the topping-lift, until the boom is trimmed by the lower yard; then make fast the guys and lift. Haul well taut the fore lift and brace, and belay. Take a turn with one sheet, hoist away on the outer halyards, and when about one third up, clear the downhaul, haul chock out on the outhaul, and hoist well up by the halyards, which will serve as a lift to the topmast studdingsail boom; and then set taut on the inner halyards and trim down the sheet. The practice now is, and it is found most convenient, to set the sail before rigging out the boom; then clap on the outhaul and forward guy, and trim the boom by the lower yard. TO TAKE IN A LOWER STUDDINGSAIL.--Let go the outhaul, and haul on the clewline till the outer clew is up to the yard. Then lower away the outer halyards, and haul in on the sheet and clewline. When the sail is in over the rail, lower away the inner halyards. If the booms are to be rigged in, cast off all the gear; making the bending end of the outhaul fast in-board, and unreeving the outer and inner halyards, or running the outer up to the pennant block, and the inner up to the yard block, with knots in their ends. Ease off the forward guy with a turn, haul in on the after guy, topping well up by the lift, and get the boom alongside. Rig in the topmast studdingsail boom before unreeving the outer halyards. It is a convenient practice, when the swinging boom is alongside, to hook the topping-lift to a becket or thimble at the turning in of the fore swifter, and the forward guy to a strap and thimble on the spritsail yard. In strong winds it is well to have a boom-brace-pennant fitted to the topmast studdingsail boom-end with a single block, making a whip purchase, the hauling part leading to the gangway, and belaying at the same pin with the tack; or else, the brace may lead to the gangway, and the tack be brought in through blocks on the yard, and lead down on deck, beside the mast. The former mode is more usual. The topmast studdingsail is sometimes made with a reef in it, to be carried with a single reefed topsail; in which case it is reefed on deck to the yard and sent out as before. CHAPTER X. GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF WORKING A SHIP. Action of the water upon the rudder. Headway. Sternway. Action of the wind upon the sails. Head-sails. After-sails. Centre of gravity or rotation. Turning a ship to or from the wind. A ship is acted upon principally by the rudder and sails. When the rudder is fore-and-aft, that is, on a line with the keel, the water runs by it, and it has no effect upon the ship's direction. When it is changed from a right line to one side or the other, the water strikes against it, and forces the stern in an opposite direction. For instance, if the helm is put to the starboard, the rudder is put off the line of the keel, to port. This sends the stern off to the starboard, and, of course, the ship turning on her centre of gravity, her head goes in an opposite direction, to port. If the helm is put to port, the reverse will follow, and the ship's head will turn off her course to starboard. Therefore the helm is always put in the opposite direction from that in which the ship's head is to be moved. Moving the rudder from a right line has the effect of deadening the ship's way more or less, according as it is put at a greater or less angle with the keel. A ship should therefore be so balanced by her sails that a slight change of her helm may answer the purpose. If a vessel is going astern, and the rudder is turned off from the line of the keel, the water, striking against the back of the rudder, pushes the stern off in the same direction in which the rudder is turned. For instance, if sternway is on her, and the helm is put to the starboard, the rudder turns to port, the water forces the stern in the same direction, and the ship's head goes off to the starboard. Therefore, when sternway is on a vessel, put the helm in the same direction in which the head is to be turned. A current or tide running astern, that is, when the ship's head is toward it, will have the same effect on the rudder as if the ship were going ahead; and when it runs forward, it will be the same as though the ship were going astern. It will now be well to show how the sails act upon a ship, with reference to her centre of rotation. Suppose a vessel to be rigged with three sails, one in the forward part, one at the centre, and the third at the after part, and her left or larboard side to be presented to the wind, which we will suppose to be abeam, or at right angles with the keel. If the head sail only were set, the effect would be that the wind would send the vessel a little ahead and off to the starboard on her centre of rotation, so as to bring her stern slowly round to the wind. If the after sail only were set, the vessel would shoot ahead a little, her stern would go off to the starboard and her head come up into the wind. If only the centre sail were set, the effect would be the same as if all three of the sails were set, and she would go ahead in a straight line. So far, we have supposed the sails to be set _full_; that is, with their tacks forward and their sheets aft. If they were all set _aback_, the vessel would go astern nearly, if the rudder were kept steady, in a straight line. If the head sail only is set and aback, she will go astern and round upon her axis, with her head from the wind, much quicker than if full. So, if the after sail alone were set and aback, she would go astern, and her head would come suddenly into the wind. These principles of the wind acting upon the sails, and the water upon the rudder, are the foundation of the whole science of working a ship. In large vessels the sails are numerous, but they may all be reduced to three classes, viz., head sails, or those which are forward of the centre of gravity or rotation, having a tendency to send the ship's head off from the wind; after sails, or those abaft the centre of rotation, and which send the stern off and the head toward the wind; and lastly, centre sails, which act equally on each side the centre of rotation, and do not turn the ship off her course one way or the other. These classes of sails, if set aback, tend to stop the headway and send the ship astern, and also to turn her off her course in the same direction as when set full, but with more rapidity. The further a sail is from the centre of rotation, the greater is its tendency to send the ship off from the line of her keel. Accordingly, a jib is the strongest head sail, and a spanker the strongest after sail. The centre of rotation is not necessarily at the centre of the ship. On the contrary, as vessels are now built, it may not be much abaft that part of the deck to which the main tack is boarded. For the main breadth, or dead-flat, being there, the greatest cavity will also be there, and of course the principal weight of the cargo should centre there, as being the strongest part. Therefore the centre of rotation will greatly depend upon proper stowage. If the ship is much by the stern, the centre of rotation will be carried aft, and if by the head, it will be carried forward. The cause of this is, that when loaded down by the stern, her after sails have but little effect to move her stern against the water, and a very slight action upon the forward sails will send her head off to leeward, as she is there light and high in the air. Accordingly, to keep her in a straight line, the press of sail is required to be further aft, or, in other words, the centre of rotation is further aft. If a ship is loaded down by the head, the opposite results follow, and more head and less after sail is necessary. A ship should be so stowed, and have her sails so trimmed, that she may be balanced as much as possible, and not be obliged to carry her helm much off the line of her keel, which tends to deaden her way. If a ship is stowed in her best sailing trim, and it is found, when on a wind, that her head tends to windward, obliging her to carry a strong weather helm, it may be remedied by taking in some after sail, or adding head sail. So, if she carries a lee helm, that is, if her head tends to fly off from the wind, it is remedied by taking in head or adding after sail. Sometimes a ship is made to carry a weather helm by having too much head sail set aloft. For, if she lies much over on a wind, the square sails forward have a tendency to press her downwards and raise her proportionally abaft, so that she meets great resistance from the water to leeward under her bows, while her stern, being light, is easily carried off; which, of course, requires her to carry a weather helm. The general rules, then, for turning a ship, are these: to bring her head to the wind,--put the helm to leeward, and bring the wind to act as much as possible on the after sails, and as little as possible on the head sails. This may be done without taking in any sail, by letting go the head sheets, so that those sails may lose their wind, and by pointing the head yards to the wind, so as to keep the head sails shaking. At the same time keep the after sails full, and flatten in the spanker sheet; or, if this is not sufficient, the after sails may be braced aback, which will send the stern off and the head to windward. But as this makes back sails of them, and tends to send the vessel astern, there should be either head or centre sails enough filled to counteract this and keep headway upon her. On the other hand, to turn the head off from the wind, put the helm to windward, shiver the after sails, and flatten in the head sheets. Brace the head yards aback if necessary, being careful not to let her lose headway if it can be avoided. The vessel may be assisted very much in going off or coming to, by setting or taking in the jib and spanker; which, if the latter is fitted with brails, are easily handled. CHAPTER XI. TACKING, WEARING, BOXING, &C. Tacking without fore-reaching. Tacking against a heavy sea. Hauling off all. To trim the yards. Flattening in. Missing stays. Wearing--under courses--under a mainsail--under bare poles. Box-hauling--short round. Club-hauling. Drifting in a tide-way. Backing and filling in do. Clubbing in do. TACKING.--Have the ship so suited with sails that she may steer herself as nearly as possible, and come to with a small helm. Keep her a good full, so that she may have plenty of headway. _Ready, About!_ Send all hands to their stations. The chief mate and one, two, or more of the best men, according to the size of the vessel, on the forecastle, to work the head sheets and bowlines and the fore tack; two or more good men (one usually a petty officer, or an older and trusty seaman) to work the main tack and bowline. The second mate sees the lee fore and main braces clear and ready for letting go, and stands by to let go the lee main braces, which may all be belayed to one pin. Put one hand to let go the weather cross-jack braces, and others to haul in to leeward; the cook works the fore sheet, and the steward the main; station one or more at the spanker sheet and guys; and the rest at the weather main braces. Ease the helm down gradually; _Helm's a-lee!_ and let go the jib sheet and fore sheets. As soon as the wind is parallel with the yards, blowing directly upon the leeches of the square sails, so that all is shaking, _Raise tacks and sheets!_ and let go the fore and main tacks and main sheet, keeping the fore and main bowline fast. As soon as her head is within a point or a point and a half of the wind, _Mainsail haul!_ let go the lee main and weather cross-jack braces, and swing the after yards round. While she is head to the wind, and the after sails are becalmed by the head sails, get the main tack down and sheet aft, and right your helm, using it afterwards as her coming to or falling off requires. As soon as she passes the direction of the wind, shift your jib sheets over the stays, and when the after sails take full, or when she brings the wind four points on the other bow, and you are sure of paying off sufficiently, _Let go and haul!_ brace round the head yards briskly, down fore tack and aft the sheet, brace sharp up and haul your bowlines out, and trim down your head sheets. It is best to haul the mainsail just before you get the wind right ahead, for then the wind, striking the weather leeches of the after sails, forces them round almost without the braces, and you will have time to brace up and get your tack down and sheet aft, when she has payed off on the other side. If she falls off too rapidly while swinging your head yards, so as to bring the wind abeam or abaft, _'Vast bracing!_ Ease off head sheets and put your helm a-lee; and as she comes up, meet her and brace sharp up. If, on the other hand, (as sometimes happens with vessels which carry a strong weather helm,) she does not fall off after the after sails take, be careful not to haul your head yards until she is fully round; and if she should fly up into the wind, let go the main sheet, and, if necessary, brail up the spanker and shiver the cross-jack yards. In staying, be careful to right your helm before she loses headway. TO TACK WITHOUT FORE-REACHING, as in a narrow channel, when you are afraid to keep headway. If she comes slowly up to windward, haul down the jib and get your spanker-boom well over to windward. As you raise tacks and sheets, let go the lee fore topsail brace, being careful to brace up again as soon as she takes aback. Also, hoist the jib, and trim down, if necessary, as soon as she takes on the other side. TACKING AGAINST A HEAVY HEAD SEA.--You are under short sail, there is a heavy head sea, and you doubt whether she will stay against it. Haul down the fore topmast staysail, ease down the helm, and raise fore sheet. When within about a point of the wind's eye, let go main tack and sheet, lee braces and after bowlines, and _Mainsail haul!_ If she loses her headway at this time, shift your helm. As soon as she brings the wind on the other bow, she will fall off rapidly by reason of her sternway, therefore shift your helm again to meet her, and _Let go and haul!_ at once. Brace about the head yards, but keep the weather braces in, to moderate her falling off. When she gets headway, right the helm, and as she comes up to the wind, brace up and haul aft. TACKING BY HAULING OFF ALL.--This can be done only in a smooth sea, with a light working breeze, a smart vessel and strong crew. Man all the braces. Let her come up head to the wind, and fall off on the other tack, shifting the helm if she gathers sternway. When you get the wind about five points on the other bow, _Haul off all!_ let go all the braces and bowlines and swing all the yards at once. Right the helm, board tacks and haul aft sheets, brace up and haul out. TO TRIM THE YARDS WHEN CLOSE-HAULED.--In smooth water, with a light breeze, brace the lower yards sharp up, and trim the upper yards each a trifle in abaft the one below it. If you have a pretty stiff breeze, brace the topsail yard in about half a point more than the lower yard, and the topgallant yard half a point more than the topsail yard, and so on. If you have a strong breeze and a topping sea, and especially if reduced to short sail, brace in your lower yards a little, and the others proportionally. This will prevent the vessel going off bodily to leeward; and if she labors heavily, the play of the mast would otherwise carry away the braces and sheets, or spring the yards. MISSING STAYS.--If after getting head to the wind she comes to a stand and begins to fall off before you have hauled your main yard, flatten in your jib sheets, board fore tack, and haul aft fore sheet; also ease off spanker sheet, or brail up the spanker, if necessary. When she is full again, trim the jib and spanker sheets, and when she has recovered sufficient headway, try it again. If, after coming head to the wind, and after the after yards are swung, she loses headway and refuses to go round, or begins to fall off on the same tack on which she was before, and you have shifted the helm without effect, haul up the mainsail and spanker, square the after yards, shift your helm again a-lee, so as to assist her in falling off, and brace round the head yards so as to box her off. As she fills on her former tack, brace up the after yards, brace round the head yards, sharp up all, board tacks, haul out and haul aft. WEARING.--Haul up the mainsail and spanker, put the helm up, and, as she goes off, brace in the after yards. If there is a light breeze, the rule is to keep the mizzen topsail lifting, and the main topsail full. This will keep sufficient headway on her, and at the same time enable her to fall off. But if you have a good breeze and she goes off fast, keep both the main and mizzen topsails lifting. As she goes round, bringing the wind on her quarter and aft, follow the wind with your after yards, keeping the mizzen topsail lifting, and the main either lifting or full, as is best. After a vessel has fallen off much, the less headway she has the better, provided she has enough to give her steerage. When you have the wind aft, raise fore tack and sheet, square in the head yards, and haul down the jib. As she brings the wind on the other quarter, brace sharp up the after yards, haul out the spanker, and set the mainsail. As she comes to on the other tack, brace up the head yards, keeping the sails full, board fore tack and aft the sheet, hoist the jib, and meet her with the helm. TO WEAR UNDER COURSES.--Square the cross-jack yards, ease off main bowline and tack, and haul up the weather clew of the mainsail. Ease off the main sheet, and haul up the lee clew, and the buntlines and leechlines. Square the main yards and put the helm a-weather. As she falls off, let go the fore bowline, ease off the fore sheet, and brace in the fore yard. When she gets before the wind, board the fore and main tacks on the other side, and haul aft the main sheet, but keep the weather braces in. As she comes to on the other side, ease the helm, trim down the fore sheet, brace up and haul out. TO WEAR UNDER A MAINSAIL.--Vessels lying-to under this sail generally wear by hoisting the fore topmast staysail, or some other head sail. If this cannot be done, brace the cross-jack yards to the wind, and, if necessary, send down the mizzen topmast and the cross-jack yard. Brace the head yards full. Take an opportunity when she has headway, and will fall off, to put the helm up. Ease off the main sheet, and, as she falls off, brace in the main yard a little. When the wind is abaft the beam, raise the main tack. When she is dead before it, get the other main tack down as far as possible; and when she has the wind on the other quarter, ease the helm, haul aft the sheet, and brace up. TO WEAR UNDER BARE POLES.--Some vessels, which are well down by the stern, will wear in this situation, by merely pointing the after yards to the wind, or sending down the mizzen topmast and the cross-jack yard, and filling the head yards; but vessels in good trim will not do this. To assist the vessel, veer a good scope of hawser out of the lee quarter, with a buoy, or something for a stop-water, attached to the end. As the ship sags off to leeward, the buoy will be to windward, and will tend to bring the stern round to the wind. When she is before it, haul the hawser aboard. BOX-HAULING.--Put the helm down, light up the head sheets and slack the lee braces, to deaden her way. As she comes to the wind, raise tacks and sheets, and haul up the mainsail and spanker. As soon as she comes head to the wind and loses her headway, square the after yards, brace the head yards sharp aback, and flatten in the head sheets. The helm, being put down to bring her up, will now pay her off, as she has sternway on. As she goes off, keep the after sails lifting, and square in the head yards. As soon as the sails on the foremast give her headway, shift the helm. When she gets the wind on the other quarter, haul down the jib, haul out the spanker, set the mainsail, and brace the after yards sharp up. As she comes to on the other tack, brace up the head yards, meet her with the helm, and set the jib. BOX-HAULING SHORT ROUND; sometimes called _wearing short round._--Haul up the mainsail and spanker, put the helm hard a-weather, square the after yards, brace the head yards sharp aback, and flatten in the head sheets. As she gathers sternway, shift the helm. After this, proceed as in box-hauling by the former method. The first mode is preferable when you wish to stop headway as soon as possible; as a vessel under good way will range ahead some distance after the sails are all thrown flat aback. Few merchant vessels are strongly enough manned to perform these evolutions; but they are often of service, as they turn a vessel round quicker on her heel, and will stop her from fore-reaching when near in shore or when close aboard another vessel. CLUB-HAULING.--This method of going about is resorted to when on a lee shore, and the vessel can neither be tacked nor box-hauled. Cock-bill your lee anchor, get a hawser on it for a spring, and lead it to the lee quarter; range your cable, and unshackle it abaft the windlass. _Helm's a-lee!_ and _Raise tacks and sheets!_ as for going in stays. The moment she loses headway, let go the anchor and _Mainsail haul!_ As soon as the anchor brings her head to the wind, let the chain cable go, holding on to the spring; and when the after sails take full, cast off or cut the spring, and _Let go and haul!_ DRIFTING IN A TIDE-WAY.--As a vessel is deeper aft than forward, her stern will always tend to drift faster than her head. If the current is setting out of a river or harbor, and the wind the opposite way, or only partly across the current, you may work out by tacking from shore to shore; or you may let her drift out, broadside to the current; or, keeping her head to the current by sufficient sail, you may let her drift out stern first; or, lastly, you may _club_ her down. If the wind is partly across the current, cast to windward. If you work down by tacking, and the wind is at all across the current, be careful of the lee shore, and stay in season, since, if you miss stays, you may not be able to save yourself by wearing or box-hauling, as you might on the weather shore. If the channel is very narrow, or there are many vessels at anchor, the safest way is to bring her head to the current, brace the yards full, and keep only sail enough to give her steerage, that you may sheer from side to side. If there is room enough, you will drift more rapidly by bringing her broadside to the current, keeping the topsails shaking, and counteract the force of the current upon the stern by having the spanker full and the helm a-lee. You can at any time shoot her ahead, back her astern, or bring her head to the current, by filling the head yards, taking in the spanker, and setting the jib; filling the after yards, taking in the jib, and setting the spanker; or by bracing all aback. BACKING AND FILLING IN A TIDE-WAY.--Counter-brace your yards as in lying-to, and drift down broadside to the current. Fill away and shoot ahead, or throw all aback and force her astern, as occasion may require. When you approach the shore on either side, fill away till she gets sufficient headway, and put her in stays or wear her round. CLUBBING IN A TIDE-WAY.--Drift down with your anchor under your foot, heaving in or paying out on your cable as you wish to increase or deaden her way. Have a spring on your cable, so as to present a broadside to the current. This method is a troublesome and dangerous one, and rarely resorted to. An anchor will seldom drag clear, through the whole operation. CHAPTER XII. GALES OF WIND, LYING-TO, GETTING ABACK, BY THE LEE, &C. Lying-to.--choice of sails. Scudding. Heave-to after scudding. Taken aback. Chappelling. Broaching-to. By the lee. LYING-TO.--The best single sail to lie-to under, is generally thought to be a close-reefed maintopsail. The fore or the main spencer (sails which are used very much now instead of main and mizzen staysails) may be used to advantage, according as a ship requires sail more before or abaft the centre of gravity. If a ship will bear more than one sail, it is thought best to separate the pressure. Then set the fore and main spencers; or (if she carries staysails instead) the main and mizzen staysail; or, if she is easier under lofty sail, the fore and main topsails close-reefed. A close-reefed main topsail, with three lower storm staysails; or, with the two spencers, fore topmast staysail, and reefed spanker, is considered a good arrangement for lying-to. If the fore topmast staysail and balance-reefed spanker can be added to the two close-reefed topsails, she will keep some way, will go less to leeward, and can be easily wore round. Close-reefed topsails are used much more now for lying-to than the courses. As ships are now built, with the centre of gravity farther forward, and the foremast stepped more aft, they will lie-to under head sail better than formerly. Some vessels, which are well down by the stern, will lie-to under a reefed foresail, as this tends to press her down forward; whereas, if she had much after sail, she would have all the lateral resistance of the water aft, and would come up to the wind. In carrying most head or after sail, you must be determined by the trim of the vessel, her tendency to come to or go off, and as to whether the sail you use will act as a lifting or a burying sail. A topsail has an advantage over a spencer or lower staysail for lying-to, since it steadies the ship better, and counteracts the heavy weather roll, which a vessel will give under low and small fore-and-aft sails. SCUDDING.--The most approved sail for scudding is the close-reefed maintopsail, with a reefed foresail. The course alone might get becalmed under the lee of a high sea, and the vessel, losing her way, would be overtaken by the sea from aft; whereas the topsail will always give her way enough and lift her. The foresail is of use in case she should be brought by the lee. Many officers recommend that the fore topmast staysail, or fore storm staysail, should always be set in scudding, to pay her off if she should broach-to, and with the sheets hauled flat aft. It has been thought that with the wind quartering and a heavy sea, a vessel is more under command with a close-reefed foretopsail and maintopmast staysail. The foretopmast staysail may also be hoisted. If the ship flies off and gets by the lee, the foretopsail is soon braced about, and, with the maintopmast staysail sheet shifted to the other side, the headway is not lost. TO HEAVE-TO AFTER SCUDDING.--Secure everything about decks, and watch a smooth time. Suppose her to be scudding under a close-reefed maintopsail and reefed foresail; haul up the foresail, put the helm down, brace up the after yards, and set the mizzen staysail. As she comes to, set the main staysail, meet her with the helm, brace up the head-yards, and set the fore or foretopmast staysail. If your vessel labors much, ease the lee braces and the halyards, that everything may work fairly aloft, and let her have a plenty of helm, to come to and fall off freely with the sea. The helmsman will often let the wheel fly off to leeward, taking care to meet her easily and in season. The sails should be so arranged as to require little of the rudder. TAKEN ABACK.--It will frequently happen, when sailing close-hauled, especially in light winds, from a shift of wind, from its dying away, or from inattention, that the ship will come up into the wind, shaking the square sails forward. In this case, it will often be sufficient to put the helm hard up, flatten in the head sheets, or haul their bights to windward, and haul up the spanker. If this will not recover her, and she continues to come to, box her off. Raise fore tack and sheet, haul up the spanker and mainsail, brace the head-yards aback, haul the jib sheets to windward, and haul out the lee bowlines. When the after sails fill, _Let go and haul!_ This manoeuvre of boxing can only be performed in good weather and light winds, as it usually gives a vessel sternway. If the wind has got round upon the other bow, and it is too late for box-hauling, square the yards fore and aft, keeping your helm so as to pay her off under sternway; and, as the sails fill, keep the after yards shaking, and haul up the spanker and mainsail, squaring the head-yards, and shifting your helm as she gathers headway. CHAPPELLING.--This operation is performed when, instead of coming to, you are taken aback in light winds. Put the helm up, if she has headway, haul up the mainsail and spanker, and square the after yards. Shift the helm as she gathers sternway, and when the after sails fill, and she gathers headway, shift your helm again. When she brings the wind aft, brace up the after yards, get the main tack down and sheet aft, and haul out the spanker as soon as it will take. The head braces are not touched, but the yards remain braced as before. The former mode of wearing, by squaring the head-yards when the after sails are full, has great advantages over chappelling, as the vessel will go off faster when the wind is abeam and abaft, and will come to quicker when the wind gets on the other side. BROACHING-TO.--This is when a vessel is scudding, and comes up into the wind and gets aback. For such an accident, the foretopmast staysail is set, which will act as an off-sail, so that by keeping the helm up, with the maintopsail (if set) braced into the wind, she will pay off again without getting sternway. If the close-reefed foretopsail is carried instead of the main, it can be easily filled. BROUGHT BY THE LEE.--This is when a vessel is scudding with the wind quartering, and falls off so as to bring the wind on the other side, laying the sails aback. This is more likely to occur than broaching-to, especially in a heavy sea. Suppose the vessel to be scudding under a close-reefed maintopsail and reefed foresail, with the wind on her larboard quarter. She falls off suddenly and brings the wind on the starboard quarter, laying all aback. Put your helm hard a-starboard, raise fore tack and sheet, and fill the foresail, shivering the maintopsail. When she brings the wind aft again, meet her with the helm, and trim the yards for her course. CHAPTER XIII. ACCIDENTS. On beam-ends. Losing a rudder. A squall. A man overboard. Collision. Rules for vessels passing one another. ON BEAM-ENDS.--A vessel is usually thrown upon her beam-ends by a sudden squall taking her, when under a press of sail, and shifting the ballast. She must be righted, if possible, without cutting away the masts. For, beside sacrificing them, the object can seldom be accomplished in that way, if the ballast and cargo have shifted. Carry a hawser from the lee quarter, with spars and other good stop-waters bent to it. As the ship drifts well to leeward, the hawser will bring her stern to the wind; but it may not cast her on the other side. If a spring can be got upon the hawser from the lee bow, and hauled upon, and the stern fast let go, this will bring the wind to act upon the flat part of the deck and pay her stern off, and assist the spring, when the sails may be trimmed to help her in righting. If she can be brought head to the wind, and the sails be taken aback, she may cast on the other tack. When there is anchoring ground, the practice is to let go the lee anchor, which may take the sails aback and cast her. Then the ballast and cargo may be righted. If there is no anchoring ground, a vessel may still be kept head to the wind, by paying a chain cable out of the lee hawse-hole; or by bending a hawser to a large spar, which may be kept broadside-to by a span, to the centre of which the hawser is bent. The same operation may be applied to a vessel overset, and is preferable to wearing by a hawser. Make fast the hawser forward to the lee bow, carry the other end aft to windward and bend it to the spar, and launch the spar overboard. By this means, or by letting go an anchor, though there be no bottom to be reached, a vessel may often be recovered. LOSING A RUDDER.--The first thing to be done on losing a rudder, is to bring the ship to the wind by bracing up the after yards. Meet her with the head yards, as she comes to. Take in sail forward and aft, and keep her hove-to by her sails. A vessel may be made to steer herself for a long time, by carefully trimming the yards and slacking up the jib sheets or the spanker sheet a little, as may be required. Having got the ship by the wind, get up a hawser, middle it, and take a slack clove-hitch at the centre. Get up a cable, reeve its end through this hitch, and pay the cable out over the taffrail. Having payed out about fifty fathoms, jam the hitch and rack it well, so that it cannot slip; pay out on the cable until the hitch takes the water; then lash the cable to the centre of the taffrail; lash a spare spar under it across the stern, with a block well secured at each end, through which reeve the ends of the hawser, one on each quarter, and reeve them again through blocks at the sides, abreast of the wheel. By this, a ship may be steered until a temporary rudder can be constructed. A rudder may be fitted by taking a spare topmast, or other large spar, and cutting it flat in the form of a stern-post. Bore holes at proper distances in that part which is to be the fore part of the preventer or additional stern-post; then take the thickest plank on board, and make it as near as possible into the form of a rudder; bore holes at proper distances in the fore part of it and in the after part of the preventer stern-post, to correspond with each other, and reeve rope grommets through those holes in the rudder and after part of the stern-post, for the rudder to play upon. Through the preventer stern-post, reeve guys, and at the fore part of them fix tackles, and then put the machine overboard. When it is in a proper position, or in a line with the ship's stern-post, lash the upper part of the preventer post to the upper part of the ship's stern-post; then hook tackles at or near the main chains, and bowse taut on the guys to confine it to the lower part of the preventer stern-post. Having holes bored through the preventer and proper stern-post, run an iron bolt through both, (taking care not to touch the rudder,) which will prevent the false stern-post from rising or falling. By the guys on the after part of the rudder and tackles affixed to them, the ship may be steered, taking care to bowse taut the tackles on the preventer stern-post, to keep it close to the proper stern-post. A SQUALL.--If you see a squall approaching, take in the light sails, stand by to clew down, and keep her off a little, if necessary. If you are taken by one, unprepared, with all sail set and close-hauled, put the helm hard up, let go the spanker sheet and outhaul, and the main sheet. Clew up royals and topgallant sails, haul down flying-jib, haul up the mainsail, and clew down the mizzen topsail. When you are before the wind, clew down the topsail yards, and haul out the reef-tackles. You may run before the squall until it moderates, or furl the light sails, bring by the wind, and reef. A MAN OVERBOARD.[5]--The moment the cry is heard, put the helm down and bring her up into the wind, whether she is on the wind or free, and deaden her headway. Throw overboard instantly life buoys, or, if there are none at hand, take a grating, the carpenter's bench, or any pieces of plank or loose spars there may be about decks; and let two or three hands clear away a quarter boat. The best plan is, if the vessel was on the wind, to haul the mainsail up and brace aback the after yards and raise the head sheets; then, having her main yard aback, she will drift down directly toward the man. Keep your head sails full to steady her, while the after ones stop her headway. [5] See Totten's Naval Text Book, Letter XX. If you are sailing free, with studdingsails set, clew up the lower studdingsail, brace up the head yards, haul forward the fore tack, and keep the head yards full, while you luff up to back the after ones. Lower away the boat as soon as it is safe, and, as the vessel will have turned nearly round, direct the boat with reference to her position when the accident happened and her progress since. COLLISION.--If two vessels approach one another, both having a free wind, each keeps to the right. That is, the one with her starboard tacks aboard keeps on or luffs; and the other, if it is necessary to alter her course, keeps off. So, if two vessels approach one another close-hauled on different tacks, and it is doubtful which is to windward, the vessel on the starboard tack keeps on her course, and the other gives way and keeps off. That is, each goes to the right, and the vessel with her starboard tacks aboard has the preference. The only exception to this is, that if the vessel on the larboard tack is so much to windward that in case both persist the vessel on the starboard tack will strike her to leeward and abaft the beam; then the vessel on the starboard tack must give way, as she can do it more easily than the other. Another rule is that if one vessel is going dead before the wind and the other going free on the starboard tack, the latter must luff and go under the stern of the former. CHAPTER XIV. HEAVING-TO BY COUNTER-BRACING. SPEAKING. SOUNDING. HEAVING THE LOG. COUNTER-BRACING.--This is done whenever, with a breeze, a vessel wishes to remain stationary, for the purpose of speaking another vessel, sounding, lowering a boat, or the like. If you do not wish to stop your way entirely, haul up the mainsail, square the main yards aback, keeping the fore and cross-jack yards full, and the foresail, spanker and jib set. If you wish to stop her way still more, back the cross-jack yards also, haul up the foresail, and put the helm a-lee. She will then fall off and come to, which you may regulate by the jib and spanker sheets; and she may be ranged a little ahead, or deadened, by filling or backing the cross-jack yards. You may, on the other hand, back the head yards and fill the after yards. The former method is called heaving-to with the maintopsail to the mast, and the latter, with the foretopsail to the mast. SPEAKING.--When two vessels speak at sea, the one to windward heaves her maintopsail to the mast, and the one to leeward her fore. This is in order that the weather one may the more readily fill without falling off so as to run afoul of the other, and that the lee one may box her head off and keep clear of the ship to windward. The weather one either throws all aback and drops astern, or fills her after yards and shoots ahead. The lee one shivers her after yards and boxes off. If the weather ship comes too near the lee one, before the latter has time to wear, the weather ship squares her head yards, drops her mainsail, braces her cross-jack yards sharp aback, and puts her helm a-weather. This gives her sternway, and the after sails and helm keep her to the wind. If three vessels communicate at sea, the weather and middle ones back their main topsails, and the lee one her fore; then, in case of necessity, the weather one fills her after yards and shoots ahead, the middle one throws all aback and drops astern, and the lee one shivers her after sails and falls off. SOUNDING.--The marks upon the lead-lines have been given previously, at page 17. To sound with the hand-lead, a man stands in the weather main channels with a breast-rope secured to the rigging, and throws the lead forward, while the vessel has headway on. If the depth corresponds with the marks upon the line, as if it is 5, 7, or 10 fathoms, he calls out, "By the _mark five_!" &c. If it is a depth the fathoms of which have no mark upon the line, as 6, 8, or 9, he calls out, "By the _deep six_!" &c. If he judges the depth to be a quarter or a half more than a particular fathom, as, for instance, 5, he calls out, "And a quarter," or, "And a half, five!" &c. If it is 5 and three quarters, he would say, "Quarter less six!" and so on. TO SOUND BY THE DEEP-SEA-LEAD.--Have the line coiled down in a tub or rack, clear for running, abreast of the main rigging. Carry the end of the line forward on the weather side, outside of everything, to the cat-head or the spritsail yard-arm, and bend it to the lead, which must be armed with tallow. One man holds the lead for heaving, and the others range themselves along the side, at intervals, each with a coil of the line in his hand. An officer, generally the chief mate, should stand by to get the depth. All being ready, the word is given, "_Stand by! Heave!_" As soon as the man heaves the lead, he calls out, "_Watch, ho! Watch!_" and each man, as the last fake of the coil goes out of his hand, repeats, "_Watch, ho! Watch!_" The line then runs out until it brings up by the lead's being on bottom, or until there is enough out to show that there is no bottom to be reached. The officer notes the depth by the line, which is then snatched, and the men haul it aboard, and coil it away fair. If the lead has been on the bottom, the arming of tallow will bring up some of it; by which the character of the soundings may be ascertained. The soundings, however, cannot be taken until the vessel's way has been stopped or deadened. For this purpose, before heaving the lead, either luff up and keep all shaking, or brace aback the main or mizzen topsail, or both, according to your headway, keeping the head yards full. If you are going free with studdingsails set, you may clew up the lower and boom-end the topmast studdingsails, bring her up to the wind, and keep the sails lifting, without getting them aback. It has been laid down as a rule, that if the vessel sags much to leeward, as when under short sail in a gale of wind, pass the line from the weather side round the stern, clear of everything, and heave the lead from the lee side; otherwise she would leave the lead too far to windward for measurement, or for recovering it again. But in this mode there is great danger of the line getting caught on the bottom or at the rudder-heel. It must be very deep water if a vessel cannot be managed so as to get soundings to windward. HEAVING THE LOG.--One man holds the log-reel, upon which the log-line is wound, another holds the glass, and the officer squares the chip; and, having coiled up a little of the stray line, he throws the chip overboard astern, or from the lee quarter. As he throws the chip, he calls out, "Watch!" To which the man with the glass answers, "Watch." As soon as the mark for the stray-line goes off the reel, he calls out, "Turn!" and the man turns the glass, answering, "Turn," or "Done." The instant the sand has run out, he calls, "Out!" or "Stop!" and the officer stops the line and notes the marks. It is then wound up again on the reel. CHAPTER XV. COMING TO ANCHOR. Getting ready for port. Coming to anchor,--close-hauled--free. Mooring. Flying moor. Clearing hawse. To anchor with a slip-rope. Slipping a cable. Coming-to at a slipped cable. GETTING READY FOR PORT.--Get your anchors off the bows, and let them hang by the cat-stoppers and shank-painters. Bend your cables and overhaul a few ranges forward of the windlass, according to the depth of the anchorage and the strength of the tide or wind, and range the remainder that you expect to use along the decks, abaft the windlass. Have the boats ready for lowering, and a spare hawser, with some stout rope for kedging or warping, at hand, coiled on the hatches. COMING TO ANCHOR.--If you have the wind free and all sail set, take in your studdingsails, make them up and stow them away, rig in the booms and coil away the gear, and have all ready in good season. You may then, as you draw in toward the anchorage, take in your royals and flying jib, furling the royals if you have time. The topgallant sails are next taken in, and the foresail hauled up. The topgallant sails may be furled or not, according to the strength of the wind and the number of hands. If you are before the wind, your mainsail will be hauled up, or, if the sheet is aft, haul up the lee clew-garnet. Get your ship under her topsails, jib and spanker. When near the ground, clew up the fore and main topsails, put the helm down, haul down the jib and flatten in the spanker. If you have too much headway, back the mizzen topsail. Cock-bill your anchor and stream the buoy. When she has lost her headway, let go the anchor. Let hands stand by to give her chain, as she needs it. If you come into anchoring ground close-hauled, haul in the weather fore and main braces, and clew up. If the wind is light, you may square the fore and main yards before clewing up. This will deaden her way. If the wind is fresh, it would make it difficult to clew up the sails. Haul down the jib, and come to by the spanker, or mizzen topsail and spanker. If the wind is light, she may need the mizzen topsail; if not, it may be taken in, and she may be brought to by the spanker. If she has too much headway or there is a tide setting her in, throw all aback. MOORING.--A vessel is said to be moored when she rides with more than one anchor, in different directions. The common method of mooring is, when you have come to with one anchor, to pay out chain and let her drop astern until you have out double the scope you intend to ride by. Then let go your other anchor. Slack up the cable of the latter anchor, and heave in on that of the first, until you have the same scope to each anchor. You may also moor by lowering the anchor and lashing it to the stern of the long boat, and coiling away the full scope in the bottom of the boat. You may then pull off and pick out your own berth, and let go. If you wish to drop your second anchor in any other place than directly to leeward of the first, you may, without using your long boat, warp the vessel over the berth intended for your second anchor. You should always moor so that you may ride with an open hawse in the direction from which you are liable to the strongest winds. If you have chain cables, you may moor with both cables bent to a swivel just clear of the hawse hole, one chain coming in-board. In moderate weather, and where you are not in a strong tide-way, it will generally be sufficient to let go one anchor, since, if you have out a good scope of chain, you will ride by the bight of it, and it will require a very heavy blow to bring a strain upon the anchor. In mooring, you should always have a shackle near the hawse-hole, for clearing hawse. If it is just abaft the windlass, it will be convenient in case you wish to slip your cable. A FLYING MOOR--sometimes called a RUNNING MOOR.--Have both anchors ready for letting go, with double the scope of chain you intend to ride by ranged for the weather anchor, and the riding scope of the lee chain. There are two ways of making a flying moor. One is to clew up everything and let go the first anchor while she has sufficient headway to run out the whole double range. When it is all out, or just before, luff sharp up, brace aback to stop her way, and let go the other anchor. Then heave in on the first and light out on the second, until there is the same scope to each. This mode is almost impracticable in a merchant vessel, where there is but one deck, and where the chain may have to be paid out over a windlass, since the headway would in most cases be soon stopped. The other mode is, to lay all flat aback, and the moment the headway ceases, let go your first anchor, paying out chain as she drops astern, until double your riding scope is out. Then let go your second anchor and heave in on the first. CLEARING HAWSE.--When a vessel is moored she may swing so as to get a _foul hawse_; that is, so as to bring one cable across the other. If one cable lies over the other, it is called _a cross_. When they make another cross, it is called an _elbow_. Three crosses make a _round turn_. The turns may be kept out of a cable by tending the vessel when she swings, and casting her stern one side or the other, by the helm, jib and spanker. To clear hawse, trice the slack cable up by a line or a whip purchase and hook, below the turns. Lash the two cables together just below the lowest turn. Pass a line round the cable from outside, following each turn, and in through the hawse-hole of the slack cable, and bend it to the shackle. Unshackle and bend a line to the end. Rouse the cable out through the hawse-hole, slacking up on the end line, and tricing up if necessary. Take out the turns by the first line passed in, and haul in again on the end line. Shackle the chain again, heave taut, and cast off the lashings. TO ANCHOR WITH A SLIP-ROPE.--This is necessary when you are lying in an open road-stead, where you must stand out to sea upon a gale coming up, without taking time to get your anchor. You must ride at one anchor. Having come to, take a hawser round from the quarter on the same side with your anchor, outside of everything, and bend its end to the cable just below the hawse-hole. Have a buoy triced up forward, clear of everything and carry the buoy-rope in through the hawse-hole, and round the windlass, with three turns, (the first turn being _outside_ the others,) and bend it to the shackle which is to be cast off when the cable is slipped. Have another buoy bent to the end of the hawser which is to be used for the slip-rope. TO SLIP A CABLE.--When ready to slip, everything having been prepared as above, unshackle the chain abaft the windlass, and hoist the topsails, reefed, if necessary. Stream the buoy for the end of the chain, and that at the end of the slip-rope aft. Take good turns with the slip-rope round the timber-heads, at the quarter. Hoist the fore topmast staysail and back the fore topsail, hauling in the braces on the same side with the cable, so that she may cast to the opposite side. Fill the after yards, and let go the end of the cable. Hold on to the slip-rope aft, until her head is fairly off; then let go, brace full the head yards, and set the spanker. COMING-TO AT A SLIPPED CABLE.--Keep a lookout for your buoys. Having found them, heave-to to windward of them, send a boat with a strong warp and bend it to the slip-rope buoy, take the other end to the capstan and walk the ship up to the buoy. Take the slip-rope through the chock, forward, and heave on it until you get the chain, where the slip-rope was bent to it, under foot. Make well fast the slip-rope, then fish the buoy at the end of the chain, haul up on that buoy-rope, and get the end of the chain. Rouse it in through the hawse-hole and shackle it. Heave taut, until the bend of the slip-rope is above the water, then take the other end round aft and make it fast at the quarter-port again. Pass in the buoy-rope for the end of the chain, and you are all ready for slipping again. CHAPTER XVI. GETTING UNDER WAY. To unmoor. Getting under way from a single anchor. To cat and fish. To get under way with a wind blowing directly out, and riding head to it;--with a rock or shoal close astern;--when riding head to wind and tide, and to stand out close-hauled;--wind-rode, with a weather tide;--tide-rode, casting to windward;--tide-rode, wearing round. UNMOOR.--Pay out on your riding cable, heaving in the slack of the other. When the other is short, trip it, cat and fish, and heave in on your riding cable. Instead of this method, the anchor which you are not riding by may be weighed, if it is a small one, by the long boat. Send the long boat out over the anchor, take aboard the buoy-rope, carrying it over the roller in the boat's stern, or through the end of a davit, clap the watch-tackle to it, and weigh it out of the ground. This done, and the buoy-rope and tackle secured to the boat, heave in on the chain on board, which will bring the anchor alongside, the boat approaching at the same time. When under the bow, cast off the fasts to the boat, heave up the anchor, cat and fish. GETTING UNDER WAY FROM A SINGLE ANCHOR.--It is the duty of the chief mate to see all ready forward for getting under way; the rigging fair for making sail, the cat and fish-tackles rove, and the fish-davit at hand. Heave short on your chain and pawl the windlass. Loose all the sails, if the wind is light, and sheet home and hoist up topsails, topgallant sails, and royals. If there is a stiff breeze, set topsails alone, whole or reefed. You should always, if it will answer, cast on the opposite side from your anchor; that is, if you are riding by your starboard anchor, cast to port. Brace your head yards aback and your after yards full, for the tack you mean to cast upon. The sails being set, man the windlass again, give her a sheer with the helm, and trip your anchor. The mate reports when it is away. As soon as it is away, hoist the jib. The fore topsail aback will pay her head off. Put the helm for stern-board. When her head is off enough, fill away the head yards and haul out the spanker, shifting the helm for headway. Trim the yards for your course, and make sail on her. If the wind is light and the sea smooth, you may cat and fish your anchor after you get under way; but it is best in a rough sea to keep the vessel hove-to until the anchor is catted and fished. TO CAT AND FISH AN ANCHOR.--When the anchor is lifted and brought under foot, pawl the windlass, keeping a good hold on the chain. Overhaul down the cat-block and hook it to the ring of the anchor. Stretch along the cat-fall and let all hands tally on. Set taut on the cat-tackle and pay out a little chain. Hoist away the anchor to the cat-head, and belay the fall. Pass the cat-stopper through the ring of the anchor, through the chock, belay it to the cat-tail, and seize it to its own part. Overhaul down the fish-tackle, hook the lower block to the pennant, and hook the fish-hook to the inner fluke of the anchor. Rig out your fish-davit across the forecastle, and put the bight of the pennant into the sheave-hole. Get a guy over it, near the outer end, to keep it down, and another at the inner end, to keep it out. Get the shoe over the side, to fend off the bill of the anchor. Hoist the fluke well up, pass the shank-painter under the inner arm and shank, bring it inboard, and belay and stop it to the timber-heads. Rig in the davit, unreeve the cat-fall and fish-tackle. A vessel may sometimes be got under way to advantage with the jib and spanker; particularly if the wind is blowing directly out of the harbor. Heave the anchor up at once. When it has broken ground, hoist the jib, and, as she pays off, haul out the spanker. Keep her under this sail until the anchor is catted and fished, then make sail and stand out. TO GET UNDER WAY, WITH A WIND BLOWING DIRECTLY OUT, AND RIDING HEAD TO IT.--Suppose the ship to have her starboard anchor down. Heave short and clear away the jib, and put the helm to port. Heave again until the anchor is up to the bows. Cat and fish. When the anchor is a-weigh, hoist the jib. Let her pay off under the jib. When she gathers headway, shift the helm, and let fall the sails. When she gets before it, sheet home and hoist the topsails, set the foresail, and haul down the jib. Make sail aloft. TO GET UNDER WAY, RIDING HEAD TO THE WIND, WITH A ROCK OR SHOAL CLOSE ASTERN.--Suppose you wish to cast the ship on the starboard tack. Heave in a safe scope on the chain, and run out a kedge with a hawser from the starboard bow. Cast off the yard-arm gaskets and mast-head the topsails, keeping the bunts fast. Heave taut on the hawser, and brace the yards up for the starboard tack fore and aft, hauling the jib sheet to windward. Heave up the anchor, taking in the slack of the hawser, cat it, pass the stopper, and have all ready for letting go. Haul ahead on the hawser, and as soon as the kedge is short a-peak or comes home, sheet home the topsails, run up the jib, and put the helm a-starboard. As soon as the jib fills, run the kedge up and take it in. When the topsails take and she gathers headway, draw the jib, set the spanker, board fore and main tacks, haul aft sheets, and right the helm. If she falls off too rapidly when the topsails take, give her the spanker and mainsail, easing off the jib sheet. When she comes to, haul aft the jib sheet and board the fore tack. If, when the kedge is a-weigh, she falls off on the wrong side, let go the anchor. TO GET UNDER WAY, RIDING HEAD TO WIND AND TIDE, AND TO STAND OUT CLOSE-HAULED.--Suppose you wish to cast to port. Heave short, keeping the helm a-starboard. Set the topsails. Brace up the after yards for the starboard tack, and back the head yards. Man the windlass and heave up the anchor. When the anchor is a-weigh, hoist the jib. When she has payed off sufficiently, fill away the head yards, shift the helm for headway, set the spanker, and make sail. Cat and fish, either before or after filling away. If you have no room to cast on either side, but have a vessel on each quarter, heave short, set the topsails, jib, and spanker, brace all the yards half up for the starboard tack, weigh the anchor, and put the helm to port. The tide acting on the rudder will sheer her head to starboard. When the sails take aback and give her sternway, the rudder and after sails will act against the head sails, and she will drift fairly down between the two vessels. Keep her off or to, by the spanker and jib. When you are clear, cast to port; or, haul up the spanker, shiver the after yards, and let her go off before it. TO GET UNDER WAY WIND-RODE, WITH A WEATHER TIDE; that is, a tide setting to windward.--Suppose you wish to cast to port. Heave short, loose the sails, and set the topsails. Square the after yards, and haul in the starboard head-braces. Heave again, and, when you are a-weigh, put the helm to port and hoist the jib. When she has payed off enough, fill away the head yards and shift the helm for headway. TO GET UNDER WAY, TIDE-RODE, CASTING TO WINDWARD.--Suppose the wind to be a little on the starboard bow, and you wish to cast to starboard, standing out on the larboard tack. Having hove short and set the topsails, brace up the after yards for the larboard tack, and brace the head yards aback. Weigh the anchor, keeping your helm to port, and hauling the spanker boom well over to starboard. When she comes head to the wind, hoist the jib, with the sheet to port. Shift the helm for sternway. As she falls off, draw the jib, fill the head yards, and shift the helm for headway. TO GET UNDER WAY, TIDE-RODE, WEARING ROUND.--Suppose you have the wind on your starboard quarter, and are obliged to wear her round and stand out on the larboard tack. Set the topsails, square the head yards, and shiver the after yards. When the anchor is a-weigh, put the helm hard a-starboard, and give her the foresail, if necessary. Having headway, she will go round on her keel, and you may proceed as in wearing. If a vessel is in a confined situation, without room to cast by her sails or by the tide, she may be cast by a spring upon her cable, leading in at that which will be the weather quarter. The spring may be bent to the ring of the anchor before it is let go, or it may be seized to the cable just outside the hawse-hole. It will be remembered that when a vessel is riding head to the tide, the helm is to be put as though she had headway; and when the tide sets from astern, as though she had sternway. But you should be reminded that when you have the wind and tide both ahead, if the vessel, after you weigh your anchor, goes astern faster than the current, the helm must be used as for stern-board. DICTIONARY OF SEA TERMS. ABACK. The situation of the sails when the wind presses their surfaces against the mast, and tends to force the vessel astern. ABAFT. Toward the stern of a vessel. ABOARD. Within a vessel. ABOUT. On the other tack. ABREAST. Alongside of. Side by side. ACCOMMODATION. (See LADDER.) A-COCK-BILL. The situation of the yards when they are topped up at an angle with the deck. The situation of an anchor when it hangs to the cathead by the ring only. ADRIFT. Broken from moorings or fasts. Without fasts. AFLOAT. Resting on the surface of the water. AFORE. Forward. The opposite of abaft. AFT--AFTER. Near the stern. AGROUND. Touching the bottom. AHEAD. In the direction of the vessel's head. _Wind ahead_ is from the direction toward which the vessel's head points. A-HULL. The situation of a vessel when she lies with all her sails furled and her helm lashed a-lee. A-LEE. The situation of the helm when it is put in the opposite direction from that in which the wind blows. ALL-ABACK. When all the sails are aback. ALL HANDS. The whole crew. ALL IN THE WIND. When all the sails are shaking. ALOFT. Above the deck. ALOOF. At a distance. AMAIN. Suddenly. At once. AMIDSHIPS. In the centre of the vessel; either with reference to her length or to her breadth. ANCHOR. The machine by which, when dropped to the bottom, the vessel is held fast. ANCHOR-WATCH. (See WATCH.) AN-END. When a mast is perpendicular to the deck. A-PEEK. When the cable is hove taut so as to bring the vessel nearly over her anchor. The _yards_ are _a-peek_ when they are topped up by contrary lifts. APRON. A piece of timber fixed behind the lower part of the stem, just above the fore end of the keel. A covering to the vent or lock of a cannon. ARM. YARD-ARM. The extremity of a yard. Also, the lower part of an anchor, crossing the shank and terminating in the flukes. ARMING. A piece of tallow put in the cavity and over the bottom of a lead-line. A-STERN. In the direction of the stern. The opposite of ahead. A-TAUNT. (See TAUNT.) ATHWART. Across. _Athwart-ships._ Across the line of the vessel's keel. _Athwart-hawse._ Across the direction of a vessel's head. Across her cable. ATHWART-SHIPS. Across the length of a vessel. In opposition to fore-and-aft. A-TRIP. The situation of the anchor when it is raised clear of the ground. The same as a-weigh. AVAST, or 'VAST. An order to stop; as, "Avast heaving!" A-WEATHER. The situation of the helm when it is put in the direction from which the wind blows. A-WEIGH. The same as a-trip. AWNING. A covering of canvass over a vessel's deck, or over a boat, to keep off sun or rain. BACK. _To back an anchor_, is to carry out a smaller one ahead of the one by which the vessel rides, to take off some of the strain. _To back a sail_, is to throw it aback. _To back and fill_, is alternately to back and fill the sails. BACKSTAYS. Stays running from a masthead to the vessel's side, slanting a little aft. (See STAYS.) BAGPIPE. _To bagpipe the mizzen_, is to lay it aback by bringing the sheet to the weather mizzen rigging. BALANCE-REEF. A reef in a spanker or fore-and-aft mainsail, which runs from the outer head-earing, diagonally, to the tack. It is the closest reef, and makes the sail triangular, or nearly so. BALE. _To bale a boat_, is to throw water out of her. BALLAST. Heavy material, as iron, lead, or stone, placed in the bottom of the hold, to keep a vessel from upsetting. _To freshen ballast_, is to shift it. Coarse gravel is called _shingle ballast_. BANK. A boat is _double banked_ when two oars, one opposite the other, are pulled by men seated on the same thwart. BAR. A bank or shoal at the entrance of a harbor. _Capstan-bars_ are heavy pieces of wood by which the capstan is hove round. BARE-POLES. The condition of a ship when she has no sail set. BARGE. A large double-banked boat, used by the commander of a vessel, in the navy. BARK, OR BARQUE. (See PLATE 4.) A three-masted vessel, having her fore and main masts rigged like a ship's, and her mizzen mast like the main mast of a schooner, with no sail upon it but a spanker, and gaff topsail. BARNACLE. A shell-fish often found on a vessel's bottom. BATTENS. Thin strips of wood put around the hatches, to keep the tarpaulin down. Also, put upon rigging to keep it from chafing. A large batten widened at the end, and put upon rigging, is called a _scotchman_. BEACON. A post or buoy placed over a shoal or bank to warn vessels off. Also as a signal-mark on land. BEAMS. Strong pieces of timber stretching across the vessel, to support the decks. _On the weather or lee beam_, is in a direction to windward or leeward, at right angles with the keel. _On beam-ends._ The situation of a vessel when turned over so that her beams are inclined toward the vertical. BEAR. An object _bears_ so and so, when it is in such a direction from the person looking. _To bear down_ upon a vessel, is to approach her from the windward. _To bear up_, is to put the helm up and keep a vessel off from her course, and move her to leeward. _To bear away_, is the same as to _bear up_; being applied to the vessel instead of to the tiller. _To bear-a-hand._ To make haste. BEARING. The direction of an object from the person looking. The _bearings_ of a vessel, are the widest part of her below the plank-shear. That part of her hull which is on the water-line when she is at anchor and in her proper trim. BEATING. Going toward the direction of the wind, by alternate tacks. BECALM. To intercept the wind. A vessel or highland to windward is said to _becalm_ another. So one sail _becalms_ another. BECKET. A piece of rope placed so as to confine a spar or another rope. A handle made of rope, in the form of a circle, (as the handle of a chest,) is called a _becket_. BEES. Pieces of plank bolted to the outer end of the bowsprit, to reeve the foretopmast stays through. BELAY. To make a rope fast by turns round a pin or coil, without hitching or seizing it. BEND. To make fast. _To bend a sail_, is to make it fast to the yard. _To bend a cable_, is to make it fast to the anchor. _A bend_, is a knot by which one rope is made fast to another. BENDS. (See PLATE 3.) The strongest part of a vessel's side, to which the beams, knees, and foot-hooks are bolted. The part between the water's edge and the bulwarks. BENEAPED. (See NEAPED.) BENTICK SHROUDS. Formerly used, and extending from the futtock-staves to the opposite channels. BERTH. The place where a vessel lies. The place in which a man sleeps. BETWEEN-DECKS. The space between any two decks of a ship. BIBBS. Pieces of timber bolted to the hounds of a mast, to support the trestle-trees. BIGHT. The double part of a rope when it is folded; in contradistinction from the ends. Any part of a rope may be called the bight, except the ends. Also, a bend in the shore, making a small bay or inlet. BILGE. That part of the floor of a ship upon which she would rest if aground; being the part near the keel which is more in a horizontal than a perpendicular line. _Bilge-ways._ Pieces of timber bolted together and placed under the bilge, in launching. _Bilged._ When the bilge is broken in. _Bilge Water._ Water which settles in the bilge. _Bilge._ The largest circumference of a cask. BILL. The point at the extremity of the fluke of an anchor. BILLET-HEAD. (See HEAD.) BINNACLE. A box near the helm, containing the compass. BITTS. Perpendicular pieces of timber going through the deck, placed to secure anything to. The cables are fastened to them, if there is no windlass. There are also _bitts_ to secure the windlass, and on each side of the heel of the bowsprit. BITTER, or BITTER-END. That part of the cable which is abaft the bitts. BLACKWALL HITCH. (See PLATE 5 and page 49.) BLADE. The flat part of an oar, which goes into the water. BLOCK. A piece of wood with sheaves, or wheels, in it, through which the running rigging passes, to add to the purchase. (See page 53.) BLUFF. A _bluff-bowed_ or _bluff-headed_ vessel is one which is full and square forward. BOARD. The stretch a vessel makes upon one tack, when she is beating. _Stern-board._ When a vessel goes stern foremost. _By the board._ Said of masts, when they fall over the side. BOAT-HOOK. An iron hook with a long staff, held in the hand, by which a boat is kept fast to a wharf, or vessel. BOATSWAIN. (Pronounced _bo-s'n_.) A warrant officer in the navy, who has charge of the rigging, and calls the crew to duty. BOBSTAYS. Used to confine the bowsprit down to the stem or cutwater. BOLSTERS. Pieces of soft wood, covered with canvass, placed on the trestle-trees, for the eyes of the rigging to rest upon. BOLTS. Long cylindrical bars of iron or copper, used to secure or unite the different parts of a vessel. BOLT-ROPE. The rope which goes round a sail, and to which the canvass is sewed. BONNET. An additional piece of canvass attached to the foot of a jib, or a schooner's foresail, by lacings. Taken off in bad weather. BOOM. A spar used to extend the foot of a fore-and-aft sail or studdingsail. _Boom-irons._ Iron rings on the yards, through which the studdingsail booms traverse. BOOT-TOPPING. Scraping off the grass, or other matter, which may be on a vessel's bottom, and daubing it over with tallow, or some mixture. BOUND. _Wind-bound._ When a vessel is kept in port by a head wind. BOW. The rounded part of a vessel, forward. BOWER. A working anchor, the cable of which is bent and reeved through the hawse-hole. _Best bower_ is the larger of the two bowers. (See page 16.) BOW-GRACE. A frame of old rope or junk, placed round the bows and sides of a vessel, to prevent the ice from injuring her. BOWLINE. (Pronounced _bo-lin_.) A rope leading forward from the leech of a square sail, to keep the leech well out when sailing close-hauled. A vessel is said to be _on a bowline_, or _on a taut bowline_, when she is close-hauled. _Bowline-bridle._ The span on the leech of the sail to which the bowline is toggled. _Bowline-knot._ (See PLATE 5 and page 49.) BOWSE. To pull upon a tackle. BOWSPRIT. (Pronounced _bo-sprit_.) A large and strong spar, standing from the bows of a vessel. (See PLATE 1.) BOX-HAULING. Wearing a vessel by backing the head sails. (See page 75.) BOX. _To box the compass_, is to repeat the thirty-two points of the compass in order. BRACE. A rope by which a yard is turned about. _To brace a yard_, is to turn it about horizontally. _To brace up_, is to lay the yard more fore-and-aft. _To brace in_, is to lay it nearer square. _To brace aback._ (See ABACK.) _To brace to_, is to brace the head yards a little aback, in tacking or wearing. BRAILS. Ropes by which the foot or lower corners of fore-and-aft sails are hauled up. BRAKE. The handle of a ship's pump. BREAK. _To break bulk_, is to begin to unload. _To break ground_, is to lift the anchor from the bottom. _To break shear_, is when a vessel, at anchor, in tending, is forced the wrong way by the wind or current, so that she does not lie so well for keeping herself clear of her anchor. BREAKER. A small cask containing water. BREAMING. Cleaning a ship's bottom by burning. BREAST-FAST. A rope used to confine a vessel sideways to a wharf, or to some other vessel. BREAST-HOOKS. Knees placed in the forward part of a vessel, across the stem, to unite the bows on each side. (See PLATE 3.) BREAST-ROPE. A rope passed round a man in the chains, while sounding. BREECH. The outside angle of a knee-timber. The after end of a gun. BREECHING. A strong rope used to secure the breech of a gun to the ship's side. BRIDLE. Spans of rope attached to the leeches of square sails, to which the bowlines are made fast. _Bridle-port._ The foremost port, used for stowing the anchors. BRIG. A square-rigged vessel, with two masts. An _hermaphrodite brig_ has a brig's foremast and a schooner's mainmast. (See PLATE 4.) BROACH-TO. To fall off so much, when going free, as to bring the wind round on the other quarter and take the sails aback. BROADSIDE. The whole side of a vessel. BROKEN-BACKED. The state of a vessel when she is so loosened as to droop at each end. BUCKLERS. Blocks of wood made to fit in the hawse-holes, or holes in the half-ports, when at sea. Those in the hawse-holes are sometimes called _hawse-blocks_. BULGE. (See BILGE.) BULK. The whole cargo when stowed. _Stowed in bulk_, is when goods are stowed loose, instead of being stowed in casks or bags. (See BREAK BULK.) BULK HEAD. Temporary partitions of boards to separate different parts of a vessel. BULL. A sailor's term for a small keg, holding a gallon or two. BULL'S EYE. (See page 53.) A small piece of stout wood with a hole in the centre for a stay or rope to reeve through, without any sheave, and with a groove round it for the strap, which is usually of iron. Also, a piece of thick glass inserted in the deck to let light below. BULWARKS. The wood work round a vessel, above her deck, consisting of boards fastened to stanchions and timber-heads. BUM-BOATS. Boats which lie alongside a vessel in port with provisions and fruit to sell. BUMPKIN. Pieces of timber projecting from the vessel, to board the fore tack to; and from each quarter, for the main brace-blocks. BUNT. The middle of a sail. BUNTINE. (Pronounced _buntin_.) Thin woollen stuff of which a ship's colors are made. BUNTLINES. Ropes used for hauling up the body of a sail. BUOY. A floating cask, or piece of wood, attached by a rope to an anchor, to show its position. Also, floated over a shoal, or other dangerous place as a beacon. _To stream a buoy_, is to drop it into the water before letting go the anchor. A buoy is said to _watch_, when it floats upon the surface of the water. BURTON. A tackle, rove in a particular manner. _A single Spanish burton_ has three single blocks, or two single blocks and a hook in the bight of one of the running parts. _A double Spanish burton_ has three double blocks. (See page 54.) BUTT. The end of a plank where it unites with the end of another. _Scuttle-butt._ A cask with a hole cut in its bilge, and kept on deck to hold water for daily use. BUTTOCK. That part of the convexity of a vessel abaft, under the stern, contained between the counter above and the after part of the bilge below, and between the quarter on the side and the stern-post. (See PLATE 3.) BY. _By the head._ Said of a vessel when her head is lower in the water than her stern. If her stern is lower, she is _by the stern_. _By the lee._ (See LEE. See RUN.) CABIN. The after part of a vessel, in which the officers live. CABLE. A large, strong rope, made fast to the anchor, by which the vessel is secured. It is usually 120 fathoms in length. CABLE-TIER. (See TIER.) CABOOSE. A house on deck, where the cooking is done. Commonly called the _Galley_. CALK. (See CAULK.) CAMBERED. When the floor of a vessel is higher at the middle than towards the stem and stern. CAMEL. A machine used for lifting vessels over a shoal or bar. CAMFERING. Taking off an angle or edge of a timber. CAN-HOOKS. Slings with flat hooks at each end, used for hoisting barrels or light casks, the hooks being placed round the chimes, and the purchase hooked to the centre of the slings. Small ones are usually wholly of iron. CANT-PIECES. Pieces of timber fastened to the angles of fishes and side-trees, to supply any part that may prove rotten. CANT-TIMBERS. Timbers at the two ends of a vessel, raised obliquely from the keel. _Lower Half Cants._ Those parts of frames situated forward and abaft the square frames, or the floor timbers which cross the keel. CANVASS. The cloth of which sails are made. No. 1 is the coarsest and strongest. CAP. A thick, strong block of wood with two holes through it, one square and the other round, used to confine together the head of one mast and the lower part of the mast next above it. (See PLATE 1.) CAPSIZE. To overturn. CAPSTAN. A machine placed perpendicularly in the deck, and used for a strong purchase in heaving or hoisting. Men-of-war weigh their anchors by capstans. Merchant vessels use a windlass. (See BAR.) CAREEN. To heave a vessel down upon her side by purchases upon the masts. To lie over, when sailing on the wind. CARLINGS. Short and small pieces of timber running between the beams. CARRICK-BEND. A kind of knot. (See PLATE 5 and page 50.) _Carrick-bitts_ are the windlass bitts. CARRY-AWAY. To break a spar, or part a rope. CAST. To pay a vessel's head off, in getting under way, on the tack she is to sail upon. CAT. The tackle used to hoist the anchor up to the cat-head. _Cat-block_, the block of this tackle. CAT-HARPIN. An iron leg used to confine the upper part of the rigging to the mast. CAT-HEAD. Large timbers projecting from the vessel's side, to which the anchor is raised and secured. CAT'S-PAW. A kind of hitch made in a rope. (See PLATE 5 and page 50.) A light current of air seen on the surface of the water during a calm. CAULK. To fill the seams of a vessel with oakum. CAVIL. (See KEVEL.) CEILING. The inside planking of a vessel. CHAFE. To rub the surface of a rope or spar. _Chafing-gear_ is the stuff put upon the rigging and spars to prevent their chafing. CHAINS. (See PLATE 1.) Strong links or plates of iron, the lower ends of which are bolted through the ship's side to the timbers. Their upper ends are secured to the bottom of the dead-eyes in the channels. Also, used familiarly for the CHANNELS, which see. The chain cable of a vessel is called familiarly her _chain_. _Rudder-chains_ lead from the outer and upper end of the rudder to the quarters. They are hung slack. CHAIN-PLATES. Plates of iron bolted to the side of a ship, to which the chains and dead-eyes of the lower rigging are connected. CHANNELS. Broad pieces of plank bolted edgewise to the outside of a vessel. Used for spreading the lower rigging. (See CHAINS.) CHAPELLING. Wearing a ship round, when taken aback, without bracing the head yards. (See page 80.) CHECK. A term sometimes used for slacking off a little on a brace, and then belaying it. CHEEKS. The projections on each side of a mast, upon which the trestle-trees rest. The sides of the shell of a block. CHEERLY! Quickly, with a will. CHESS-TREES. Pieces of oak, fitted to the sides of a vessel, abaft the fore chains, with a sheave in them, to board the main tack to. Now out of use. CHIMES. The ends of the staves of a cask, where they come out beyond the head of the cask. CHINSE. To thrust oakum into seams with a small iron. CHOCK. A wedge used to secure anything with, or for anything to rest upon. The long boat rests upon two large _chocks_, when it is stowed. _Chock-a-block._ When the lower block of a tackle is run close up to the upper one, so that you can hoist no higher. This is also called hoisting up _two-blocks_. CISTERN. An apartment in the hold of a vessel, having a pipe leading out through the side, with a cock, by which water may be let into her. CLAMPS. Thick planks on the inside of vessels, to support the ends of beams. Also, crooked plates of iron fore-locked upon the trunnions of cannon. Any plate of iron made to turn, open, and shut so as to confine a spar or boom, as, a studdingsail boom, or a boat's mast. CLASP-HOOK. (See CLOVE-HOOK.) CLEAT. A piece of wood used in different parts of a vessel to belay ropes to. CLEW. The lower corner of square sails, and the after corner of a fore-and-aft sail. _To clew up_, is to haul up the clew of a sail. CLEW-GARNET. A rope that hauls up the clew of a foresail or mainsail in a square-rigged vessel. CLEWLINE. A rope that hauls up the clew of a square sail. The clew-garnet is the clewline of a course. CLINCH. A half-hitch, stopped to its own part. CLOSE-HAULED. Applied to a vessel which is sailing with her yards braced up so as to get as much as possible to windward. The same as _on a taut bowline_, _full and by_, _on the wind_, &c. CLOVE-HITCH. Two half-hitches round a spar or other rope. (See PLATE 5 and page 48.) CLOVE-HOOK. An iron clasp, in two parts, moving upon the same pivot, and overlapping one another. Used for bending chain sheets to the clews of sails. CLUB-HAUL. To bring a vessel's head round on the other tack, by letting go the lee anchor and cutting or slipping the cable. (See page 76.) CLUBBING. Drifting down a current with an anchor out. (See page 77.) COAKING. Uniting pieces of spar by means of tabular projections, formed by cutting away the solid of one piece into a hollow, so as to make a projection in the other, in such a manner that they may correctly fit, the butts preventing the pieces from drawing asunder. _Coaks_ are fitted into the beams and knees of vessels to prevent their drawing. COAL TAR. Tar made from bituminous coal. COAMINGS. Raised work round the hatches, to prevent water going down into the hold. COAT. _Mast-Coat_ is a piece of canvass, tarred or painted, placed round a mast or bowsprit, where it enters the deck. COCK-BILL. To cock-bill a yard or anchor. (See A-COCK-BILL.) COCK-PIT. An apartment in a vessel of war, used by the surgeon during an action. CODLINE. An eighteen thread line. COXSWAIN. (Pronounced _cox'n_.) The person who steers a boat and has charge of her. COIL. To lay a rope up in a ring, with one turn or fake over another. _A coil_ is a quantity of rope laid up in that manner. COLLAR. An eye in the end or bight of a shroud or stay, to go over the mast-head. COME. _Come home_, said of an anchor when it is broken from the ground and drags. _To come up_ a rope or tackle, is to slack it off. COMPANION. A wooden covering over the staircase to a cabin. _Companion-way_, the staircase to the cabin. _Companion-ladder._ The ladder leading from the poop to the main deck. COMPASS. The instrument which tells the course of a vessel. _Compass-timbers_ are such as are curved or arched. CONCLUDING-LINE. A small line leading through the centre of the steps of a rope or Jacob's ladder. CONNING, or CUNNING. Directing the helmsman in steering a vessel. COUNTER. (See PLATE 3.) That part of a vessel between the bottom of the stern and the wing-transom and buttock. _Counter-timbers_ are short timbers put in to strengthen the counter. _To counter-brace_ yards, is to brace the head-yards one way and the after-yards another. COURSES. The common term for the sails that hang from a ship's lower yards. The foresail is called the _fore course_ and the mainsail the _main course_. CRANES. Pieces of iron or timber at the vessel's sides, used to stow boats or spars upon. A machine used at a wharf for hoisting. CRANK. The condition of a vessel when she is inclined to lean over a great deal and cannot bear much sail. This may be owing to her construction or to her stowage. CREEPER. An iron instrument, like a grapnell, with four claws, used for dragging the bottom of a harbor or river, to find anything lost. CRINGLE. A short piece of rope with each end spliced into the bolt-rope of a sail, confining an iron ring or thimble. CROSS-BARS. Round bars of iron, bent at each end, used as levers to turn the shank of an anchor. CROSS-CHOCKS. Pieces of timber fayed across the dead-wood amidships, to make good the deficiency of the heels of the lower futtocks. CROSS-JACK. (Pronounced _croj-jack_.) The cross-jack yard is the lower yard on the mizzen mast. (See PLATE 1.) CROSS-PAWLS. Pieces of timber that keep a vessel together while in her frames. CROSS-PIECE. A piece of timber connecting two bitts. CROSS-SPALES. Pieces of timber placed across a vessel, and nailed to the frames, to keep the sides together until the knees are bolted. CROSS-TREES. (See PLATE 1.) Pieces of oak supported by the cheeks and trestle-trees, at the mast-heads, to sustain the tops on the lower mast, and to spread the topgallant rigging at the topmast-head. CROW-FOOT. A number of small lines rove through the uvrou to suspend an awning by. CROWN of an anchor, is the place where the arms are joined to the shank. _To crown a knot_, is to pass the strands over and under each other above the knot. (See PLATE 5, page 46.) CRUTCH. A knee or piece of knee-timber, placed inside of a vessel, to secure the heels of the cant-timbers abaft. Also, the chock upon which the spanker-boom rests when the sail is not set. CUCKOLD'S NECK. A knot by which a rope is secured to a spar, the two parts of the rope crossing each other, and seized together. CUDDY. A cabin in the fore part of a boat. CUNTLINE. The space between the bilges of two casks, stowed side by side. Where one cask is set upon the cuntline between two others, they are stowed _bilge and cuntline_. CUT-WATER. The foremost part of a vessel's prow, which projects forward of the bows. CUTTER. A small boat. Also, a kind of sloop. DAGGER. A piece of timber crossing all the puppets of the bilge-ways to keep them together. _Dagger-knees._ Knees placed obliquely, to avoid a port. DAVITS. Pieces of timber or iron, with sheaves or blocks at their ends, projecting over a vessel's sides or stern, to hoist boats up to. Also, a spar with a roller or sheave at its end, used for fishing the anchor, called a _fish-davit_. DEAD-EYE. A circular block of wood, with three holes through it, for the lanyards of rigging to reeve through, without sheaves, and with a groove round it for an iron strap. (See page 59.) DEAD-FLAT. One of the bends, amidships. DEAD-LIGHTS. Ports placed in the cabin windows in bad weather. DEAD RECKONING. A reckoning kept by observing a vessel's courses and distances by the log, to ascertain her position. DEAD-RISING, OR RISING-LINE. Those parts of a vessel's floor, throughout her whole length, where the floor-timber is terminated upon the lower futtock. DEAD-WATER. The eddy under a vessel's counter. DEAD-WOOD. Blocks of timber, laid upon each end of the keel, where the vessel narrows. DECK. The planked floor of a vessel, resting upon her beams. DECK-STOPPER. A stopper used for securing the cable forward of the windlass or capstan, while it is overhauled. (See STOPPER.) DEEP-SEA-LEAD. (Pronounced _dipsey_.) (See page 17.) The lead used in sounding at great depths. DEPARTURE. The easting or westing made by a vessel. The bearing of an object on the coast from which a vessel commences her dead reckoning. DERRICK. A single spar, supported by stays and guys, to which a purchase is attached, used to unload vessels, and for hoisting. DOG. A short iron bar, with a fang or teeth at one end, and a ring at the other. Used for a purchase, the fang being placed against a beam or knee, and the block of a tackle hooked to the ring. DOG-VANE. A small vane, made of feathers or buntin, to show the direction of the wind. DOG-WATCHES. Half watches of two hours each, from 4 to 6, and from 6 to 8, P.M. (See WATCH.) DOLPHIN. A rope or strap round a mast to support the puddening, where the lower yards rest in the slings. Also, a spar or buoy with a large ring in it, secured to an anchor, to which vessels may bend their cables. DOLPHIN-STRIKER. The martingale. (See PLATE I.) DOUSE. To lower suddenly. DOWELLING. A method of coaking, by letting pieces into the solid, or uniting two pieces together by tenons. DOWNHAUL. A rope used to haul down jibs, staysails, and studdingsails. DRABLER. A piece of canvass laced to the bonnet of a sail, to give it more drop. DRAG. A machine with a bag net, used for dragging on the bottom for anything lost. DRAUGHT. The depth of water which a vessel requires to float her. DRAW. A sail _draws_ when it is filled by the wind. _To draw a jib_, is to shift it over the stay to leeward, when it is aback. DRIFTS. Those pieces in the sheer-draught where the rails are cut off. DRIVE. To scud before a gale, or to drift in a current. DRIVER. A spanker. DROP. The depth of a sail, from head to foot, amidships. DRUM-HEAD. The top of the capstan. DUB. To reduce the end of a timber. DUCK. A kind of cloth, lighter and finer than canvass; used for small sails. DUNNAGE. Loose wood or other matters, placed on the bottom of the hold, above the ballast, to stow cargo upon. EARING. A rope attached to the cringle of a sail, by which it is bent or reefed. EIKING. A piece of wood fitted to make good a deficiency in length. ELBOW. Two crosses in a hawse. (See page 89.) ESCUTCHEON. The part of a vessel's stern where her name is written. EVEN-KEEL. The situation of a vessel when she is so trimmed that she sits evenly upon the water, neither end being down more than the other. EUVROU. A piece of wood, by which the legs of the crow-foot to an awning are extended. (See UVROU.) EYE. The circular part of a shroud or stay, where it goes over a mast. _Eye-bolt._ A long iron bar, having an eye at one end, driven through a vessel's deck or side into a timber or beam, with the eye remaining out, to hook a tackle to. If there is a ring through this eye, it is called a _ring-bolt_. _An Eye-splice_ is a certain kind of splice made with the end of a rope. (See PLATE 5 and page 45.) _Eyelet-hole._ A hole made in a sail for a cringle or roband to go through. _The Eyes of a vessel._ A familiar phrase for the forward part. FACE-PIECES. Pieces of wood wrought on the fore part of the knee of the head. FACING. Letting one piece of timber into another with a rabbet. FAG. A rope is _fagged_ when the end is untwisted. FAIR-LEADER. A strip of board or plank, with holes in it, for running rigging to lead through. Also, a block or thimble used for the same purpose. FAKE. One of the circles or rings made in coiling a rope. FALL. That part of a tackle to which the power is applied in hoisting. FALSE KEEL. Pieces of timber secured under the main keel of vessels. FANCY-LINE. A line rove through a block at the jaws of a gaff, used as a downhaul. Also, a line used for cross-hauling the lee topping-lift. FASHION-PIECES. The aftermost timbers, terminating the breadth and forming the shape of the stern. FAST. A rope by which a vessel is secured to a wharf. There are _bow_ or _head_, _breast_, _quarter_, and _stern_ fasts. FATHOM. Six feet. FEATHER. _To feather an oar_ in rowing, is to turn the blade horizontally with the top aft as it comes out of the water. FEATHER-EDGED. Planks which have one side thicker than another. FENDERS. Pieces of rope or wood hung over the side of a vessel or boat, to protect it from chafing. The fenders of a neat boat are usually made of canvass and stuffed. FID. A block of wood or iron, placed through the hole in the heel of a mast, and resting on the trestle-trees of the mast below. This supports the mast. Also, a wooden pin, tapered, used in splicing large ropes, in opening eyes, &c. FIDDLE-BLOCK. A long shell, having one sheave over the other, and the lower smaller than the upper. FIDDLE-HEAD. (See HEAD.) FIFE-RAIL. The rail going round a mast. FIGURE-HEAD. A carved head or full-length figure, over the cut-water. FILLINGS. Pieces of timber used to make the curve fair for the mouldings, between the edges of the fish-front and the sides of the mast. FILLER. (See MADE MAST.) FINISHING. Carved ornaments of the quarter-galley, below the second counter, and above the upper lights. FISH. To raise the flukes of an anchor upon the gunwale. Also, to strengthen a spar when sprung or weakened, by putting in or fastening on another piece. _Fish-front_, _Fishes-sides_. (See MADE MAST.) FISH-DAVIT. The davit used for fishing an anchor. FISH-HOOK. A hook with a pennant, to the end of which the fish-tackle is hooked. FISH-TACKLE. The tackle used for fishing an anchor. FLARE. When the vessel's sides go out from the perpendicular. In opposition to _falling-home_ or _tumbling-in_. FLAT. A sheet is said to be hauled _flat_, when it is hauled down close. _Flat-aback_, when a sail is blown with its after surface against the mast. FLEET. To come up a tackle and draw the blocks apart, for another pull, after they have been hauled _two-blocks_. _Fleet ho!_ The order given at such times. Also, to shift the position of a block or fall, so as to haul to more advantage. FLEMISH COIL. (See FRENCH-FAKE.) FLEMISH-EYE. A kind of eye-splice. (See PLATE 5 and page 45.) FLEMISH-HORSE. An additional foot-rope at the ends of topsail yards. FLOOR. The bottom of a vessel, on each side of the keelson. FLOOR TIMBERS. Those timbers of a vessel which are placed across the keel. (See PLATE 3.) FLOWING SHEET. When a vessel has the wind free, and the lee clews eased off. FLUKES. The broad triangular plates at the extremity of the arms of an anchor, terminating in a point called the _bill_. FLY. That part of a flag which extends from the Union to the extreme end. (See UNION.) FOOT. The lower end of a mast or sail. (See FORE-FOOT.) FOOT-ROPE. The rope stretching along a yard, upon which men stand when reefing or furling, formerly called _horses_. FOOT-WALING. The inside planks or lining of a vessel, over the floor-timbers. FORE. Used to distinguish the forward part of a vessel, or things in that direction; as, _fore mast_, _fore hatch_, in opposition to _aft_ or _after_. FORE-AND-AFT. Lengthwise with the vessel. In opposition to _athwart-ships_. (See SAILS.) FORECASTLE. That part of the upper deck forward of the fore mast; or, as some say, forward of the after part of the fore channels. (See PLATE 1.) Also, the forward part of the vessel, under the deck, where the sailors live, in merchant vessels. FORE-FOOT. A piece of timber at the forward extremity of the keel, upon which the lower end of the stem rests. (See PLATE 3.) FORE-GANGER. A short piece of rope grafted on a harpoon, to which the line is bent. FORE-LOCK. A flat piece of iron, driven through the end of a bolt, to prevent its drawing. FORE MAST. The forward mast of all vessels. (See PLATE 1.) FOREREACH. To shoot ahead, especially when going in stays. FORE-RUNNER. A piece of rag, terminating the stray-line of the log-line. FORGE. _To forge ahead_, to shoot ahead; as, in coming to anchor, after the sails are furled. (See FOREREACH.) FORMERS. Pieces of wood used for shaping cartridges or wads. FOTHER, or FODDER. To draw a sail, filled with oakum, under a vessel's bottom, in order to stop a leak. FOUL. The term for the opposite of clear. FOUL ANCHOR. When the cable has a turn round the anchor. FOUL HAWSE. When the two cables are crossed or twisted, outside the stem. FOUNDER. A vessel _founders_, when she fills with water and sinks. FOX. (See page 52.) Made by twisting together two or more rope-yarns. _A Spanish fox_ is made by untwisting a single yarn and laying it up the contrary way. FRAP. To pass ropes round a sail to keep it from blowing loose. Also, to draw ropes round a vessel which is weakened, to keep her together. FREE. A vessel is going _free_, when she has a fair wind and her yards braced in. A vessel is said to be _free_, when the water has been pumped out of her. FRESHEN. To relieve a rope, by moving its place; as, to _freshen the nip_ of a stay, is to shift it, so as to prevent its chafing through. _To freshen ballast_, is to alter its position. FRENCH-FAKE. To coil a rope with each fake outside of the other, beginning in the middle. If there are to be riding fakes, they begin outside and go in; and so on. This is called a _Flemish coil_. FULL-AND-BY. Sailing close-hauled on a wind. _Full-and-by!_ The order given to the man at the helm to keep the sails full and at the same time close to the wind. FURL. To roll a sail up snugly on a yard or boom, and secure it. FUTTOCK-PLATES. Iron plates crossing the sides of the top-rim perpendicularly. The dead-eyes of the topmast rigging are fitted to their upper ends, and the futtock-shrouds to their lower ends. FUTTOCK-SHROUDS. Short shrouds, leading from the lower ends of the futtock-plates to a bend round the lower mast, just below the top. FUTTOCK-STAFF. A short piece of wood or iron, seized across the upper part of the rigging, to which the catharpin legs are secured. FUTTOCK-TIMBERS. (See PLATE 3.) Those timbers between the floor and naval timbers, and the top-timbers. There are two--the _lower_, which is over the floor, and the _middle_, which is over the naval timber. The naval timber is sometimes called the _ground futtock_. GAFF. A spar, to which the head of a fore-and-aft sail is bent. (See PLATE 1.) GAFF-TOPSAIL. A light sail set over a gaff, the foot being spread by it. GAGE. The depth of water of a vessel. Also, her position as to another vessel, as having the _weather_ or _lee gage_. GALLEY. The place where the cooking is done. GALLOWS-BITTS. A strong frame raised amidships, to support spare spars, &c., in port. GAMMONING. (See PLATE 1.) The lashing by which the bowsprit is secured to the cut-water. GANG-CASKS. Small casks, used for bringing water on board in boats. GANGWAY. (See PLATE 1.) That part of a vessel's side, amidships, where people pass in and out of the vessel. GANTLINE. (See GIRTLINE.) GARBOARD-STREAK. (See PLATE 3.) The range of planks next to the keel, on each side. GARLAND. A large rope, strap or grommet, lashed to a spar when hoisting it inboard. GARNET. A purchase on the main stay, for hoisting cargo. GASKETS. Ropes or pieces of plated stuff, used to secure a sail to the yard or boom when it is furled. They are called a _bunt_, _quarter_, or _yard-arm gasket_, according to their position on the yard. GIMBLET. To turn an anchor round by its stock. To turn anything round on its end. GIRT. The situation of a vessel when her cables are too taut. GIRTLINE. A rope rove through a single block aloft, making a whip purchase. Commonly used to hoist rigging by, in fitting it. GIVE WAY! An order to men in a boat to pull with more force, or to begin pulling. The same as, _Lay out on your oars!_ or, _Lay out!_ GLUT. A piece of canvass sewed into the centre of a sail near the head. It has an eyelet-hole in the middle for the bunt-jigger or becket to go through. GOB-LINE, or GAUB-LINE. A rope leading from the martingale inboard. The same as _back-rope_. GOODGEON. (See GUDGEON.) GOOSE-NECK. An iron ring fitted to the end of a yard or boom, for various purposes. GOOSE-WINGED. The situation of a course when the buntlines and lee clew are hauled up, and the weather clew down. GORES. The angles at one or both ends of such cloths as increase the breadth or depth of a sail. GORING-CLOTHS. Pieces cut obliquely and put in to add to the breadth of a sail. GRAFTING. (See page 52.) A manner of covering a rope by weaving together yarns. GRAINS. An iron with four or more barbed points to it, used for striking small fish. GRAPNEL. A small anchor with several claws, used to secure boats. GRAPPLING IRONS. Crooked irons, used to seize and hold fast another vessel. GRATING. Open lattice work of wood. Used principally to cover hatches in good weather. GREAVE. To clean a ship's bottom by burning. GRIPE. The outside timber of the fore-foot, under water, fastened to the lower stem-piece. (See PLATE 3.) A vessel _gripes_ when she tends to come up into the wind. GRIPES. Bars of iron, with lanyards, rings and clews, by which a large boat is lashed to the ring-bolts of the deck. Those for a quarter-boat are made of long strips of matting, going round her and set taut by a lanyard. GROMMET. (See PLATE 5 and page 46.) A ring formed of rope, by laying round a single strand. GROUND TACKLE. General term for anchors, cables, warps, springs, &c.; everything used in securing a vessel at anchor. GROUND-TIER. The lowest tier of casks in a vessel's hold. GUESS-WARP, or GUESS-ROPE. A rope fastened to a vessel or wharf, and used to tow a boat by; or to haul it out to the swinging-boom-end, when in port. GUN-TACKLE PURCHASE. A purchase made by two single blocks. (See page 54.) GUNWALE. (Pronounced _gun-nel_.) The upper rail of a boat or vessel. GUY. A rope attaching to anything to steady it, and bear it one way and another in hoisting. GYBE. (Pronounced _jibe_.) To shift over the boom of a fore-and-aft sail. HAIL. To speak or call to another vessel, or to men in a different part of a ship. HALYARDS. Ropes or tackles used for hoisting and lowering yards, gaffs, and sails. HALF-HITCH. (See PLATE 5 and page 48.) HAMMOCK. A piece of canvass, hung at each end, in which seamen sleep. HAND. To _hand_ a sail is to _furl_ it. _Bear-a-hand_; make haste. _Lend-a-hand_; assist. _Hand-over-hand_; hauling rapidly on a rope, by putting one hand before the other alternately. HAND-LEAD. (See page 17.) A small lead, used for sounding in rivers and harbors. HANDSOMELY. Slowly, carefully. Used for an order, as, "Lower handsomely!" HANDSPIKE. A long wooden bar, used for heaving at the windlass. HANDY BILLY. A watch-tackle. HANKS. Rings or hoops of wood, rope, or iron, round a stay, and seized to the luff of a fore-and-aft sail. HARPINGS. The fore part of the wales, which encompass the bows of a vessel, and are fastened to the stem. (See PLATE 3.) HARPOON. A spear used for striking whales and other fish. HATCH, or HATCHWAY. An opening in the deck to afford a passage up and down. The coverings over these openings are also called _hatches_. _Hatch-bar_ is an iron bar going across the hatches to keep them down. HAUL. _Haul her wind_, said of a vessel when she comes up close upon the wind. HAWSE. The situation of the cables before a vessel's stem, when moored. Also, the distance upon the water a little in advance of the stem; as, a vessel sails _athwart the hawse_, or anchors _in the hawse_ of another. _Open hawse._ When a vessel rides by two anchors, without any cross in her cables. HAWSE-HOLE. The hole in the bows through which the cable runs. HAWSE-PIECES. Timbers through which the hawse-holes are cut. HAWSE-BLOCK. A block of wood fitted into a hawse-hole at sea. HAWSER. A large rope used for various purposes, as warping, for a spring, &c. HAWSER-LAID, or CABLE-LAID rope, is rope laid with nine strands against the sun. (See PLATE 5 and page 43.) HAZE. A term for punishing a man by keeping him unnecessarily at work upon disagreeable or difficult duty. HEAD. The work at the prow of a vessel. If it is a carved figure, it is called a _figure-head_; if simple carved work, bending over and out, a _billet-head_; and if bending in, like the head of a violin, a _fiddle-head_. Also, the upper end of a mast, called a _mast-head_. (See BY-THE-HEAD. See FAST.) HEAD-LEDGES. Thwartship pieces that frame the hatchways. HEAD-SAILS. A general name given to all sails that set forward of the fore-mast. HEART. A block of wood in the shape of a heart, for stays to reeve through. HEART-YARNS. The centre yarns of a strand. HEAVE SHORT. To heave in on the cable until the vessel is nearly over her anchor. HEAVE-TO. To put a vessel in the position of lying-to. (See LIE-TO.) HEAVE IN STAYS. To go about in tacking. HEAVER. A short wooden bar, tapering at each end. Used as a purchase. HEEL. The after part of the keel. Also, the lower end of a mast or boom. Also, the lower end of the stern-post. _To heel_, is to lie over on one side. HEELING. The square part of the lower end of a mast, through which the fid-hole is made. HELM. The machinery by which a vessel is steered, including the rudder, tiller, wheel, &c. Applied more particularly, perhaps, to the tiller. HELM-PORT. The hole in the counter through which the rudder-head passes. HELM-PORT-TRANSOM. A piece of timber placed across the lower counter, inside, at the height of the helm-port, and bolted through every timber, for the security of that port. (See PLATE 3.) HIGH AND DRY. The situation of a vessel when she is aground, above water mark. HITCH. A peculiar manner of fastening ropes. (See PLATE 5 and page 48.) HOG. A flat, rough broom, used for scrubbing the bottom of a vessel. HOGGED. The state of a vessel when, by any strain, she is made to droop at each end, bringing her centre up. HOLD. The interior of a vessel, where the cargo is stowed. HOLD WATER. To stop the progress of a boat by keeping the oar-blades in the water. HOLY-STONE. A large stone, used for cleaning a ship's decks. HOME. The sheets of a sail are said to be _home_, when the clews are hauled chock out to the sheave-holes. An anchor _comes home_ when it is loosened from the ground and is hove in toward the vessel. HOOD. A covering for a companion hatch, skylight, &c. HOOD-ENDS, or HOODING-ENDS, or WHOODEN-ENDS. Those ends of the planks which fit into the rabbets of the stem or stern-post. HOOK-AND-BUTT. The scarfing, or laying the ends of timbers over each other. HORNS. The jaws of booms. Also, the ends of cross-trees. HORSE. (See FOOT-ROPE.) HOUNDS. Those projections at the mast-head serving as shoulders for the top or trestle-trees to rest upon. HOUSE. To _house_ a mast, is to lower it about half its length, and secure it by lashing its heel to the mast below. (See page 37.) _To house a gun_, is to run it in clear of the port and secure it. HOUSING, or HOUSE-LINE. (Pronounced _houze-lin_.) A small cord made of three small yarns, and used for seizings. HULL. The body of a vessel. (See A-HULL.) IN-AND-OUT. A term sometimes used for the scantline of the timbers, the moulding way, and particularly for those bolts that are driven into the hanging and lodging knees, through the sides, which are called _in-and-out bolts_. INNER-POST. A piece brought on at the fore side of the main-post, and generally continued as high as the wing-transom, to seat the other transoms upon. IRONS. A ship is said to be _in irons_, when, in working, she will not cast one way or the other. JACK. A common term for the _jack-cross-trees_. (See UNION.) JACK-BLOCK. A block used in sending topgallant masts up and down. JACK-CROSS-TREES. (See PLATE 1.) Iron cross-trees at the head of long topgallant masts. JACK-STAFF. A short staff, raised at the bowsprit cap, upon which the Union Jack is hoisted. JACK-STAYS. Ropes stretched taut along a yard to bend the head of the sail to. Also, long strips of wood or iron, used now for the same purpose. JACK-SCREW. A purchase, used for stowing cotton. JACOB'S LADDER. A ladder made of rope, with wooden steps. JAWS. The inner ends of booms or gaffs, hollowed in. JEERS. Tackles for hoisting the lower yards. JEWEL-BLOCKS. Single blocks at the yard-arms, through which the studdingsail halyards lead. JIB. (See PLATE 2.) A triangular sail set on a stay, forward. _Flying-jib_ sets outside of the jib; and the _jib-o'-jib_ outside of that. JIB-BOOM. (See PLATE 1.) The boom, rigged out beyond the bowsprit, to which the tack of the jib is lashed. JIGGER. A small tackle, used about decks or aloft. JOLLY-BOAT. A small boat, usually hoisted at the stern. JUNK. Condemned rope, cut up and used for making mats, swabs, oakum, &c. JURY-MAST. A temporary mast, rigged at sea, in place of one lost. KECKLING. Old rope wound round cables, to keep them from chafing. (See ROUNDING.) KEDGE. A small anchor, with an iron stock, used for warping. _To kedge_, is to warp a vessel ahead by a kedge and hawser. KEEL. (See PLATE 3.) The lowest and principal timber of a vessel, running fore-and-aft its whole length, and supporting the whole frame. It is composed of several pieces, placed lengthwise, and scarfed and bolted together. (See FALSE KEEL.) KEEL-HAUL. To haul a man under a vessel's bottom, by ropes at the yard-arms on each side. Formerly practised as a punishment in ships of war. KEELSON. (See PLATE 3.) A timber placed over the keel on the floor-timbers, and running parallel with it. KENTLEDGE. Pig-iron ballast, laid each side of the keelson. KEVEL, or CAVIL. A strong piece of wood, bolted to some timber or stanchion, used for belaying large ropes to. KEVEL-HEADS. Timber-heads, used as kevels. KINK. A twist in a rope. KNEES. (See PLATE 3.) Crooked pieces of timber, having two arms, used to connect the beams of a vessel with her timbers. (See DAGGER.) _Lodging-knees_, are placed horizontally, having one arm bolted to a beam, and the other across two of the timbers. _Knee of the head_, is placed forward of the stem, and supports the figure-head. KNIGHT-HEADS, or BOLLARD-TIMBERS. The timbers next the stem on each side, and continued high enough to form a support for the bowsprit. (See PLATE 3.) KNITTLES, or NETTLES. (See page 51.) The halves of two adjoining yarns in a rope, twisted up together, for pointing or grafting. Also, small line used for seizings and for hammock-clews. KNOCK-OFF! An order to leave off work. KNOT. A division on the log-line, answering to a mile of distance. (See page 17.) LABOR. A vessel is said to labor when she rolls or pitches heavily. LACING. Rope used to lash a sail to a gaff, or a bonnet to a sail. Also, a piece of compass or knee timber, fayed to the back of the figure-head and the knee of the head, and bolted to each. LAND-FALL. The making land after being at sea. _A good land-fall_, is when a vessel makes the land as intended. LAND HO! The cry used when land is first seen. LANYARDS. Ropes rove through dead-eyes for setting up rigging. Also, a rope made fast to anything to secure it, or as a handle, is called a _lanyard_. LARBOARD. The left side of a vessel, looking forward. LARBOWLINES. The familiar term for the men in the larboard watch. LARGE. A vessel is said to be going _large_, when she has the wind free. LATCHINGS. Loops on the head rope of a bonnet, by which it is laced to the foot of the sail. LAUNCH. A large boat. The LONG-BOAT. LAUNCH HO! High enough! LAY. To come or to go; as, _Lay aloft!_ _Lay forward!_ _Lay aft!_ Also, the direction in which the strands of a rope are twisted; as, from left to right, or from right to left. LEACH. (See LEECH.) LEACHLINE. A rope used for hauling up the leach of a sail. LEAD. A piece of lead, in the shape of a cone or pyramid, with a small hole at the base, and a line attached to the upper end, used for sounding. (See HAND-LEAD, DEEP-SEA-LEAD.) LEADING-WIND. A fair wind. More particularly applied to a wind abeam or quartering. LEAK. A hole or breach in a vessel, at which the water comes in. LEDGES. Small pieces of timber placed athwart-ships under the decks of a vessel, between the beams. LEE. The side opposite to that from which the wind blows; as, if a vessel has the wind on her starboard side, that will be the _weather_, and the larboard will be the _lee_ side. _A lee shore_ is the shore upon which the wind is blowing. _Under the lee_ of anything, is when you have that between you and the wind. _By the lee._ The situation of a vessel, going free, when she has fallen off so much as to bring the wind round her stern, and to take her sails aback on the other side. LEE-BOARD. A board fitted to the lee side of flat-bottomed boats, to prevent their drifting to leeward. LEE-GAGE. (See GAGE.) LEEWAY. What a vessel loses by drifting to leeward. When sailing close-hauled with all sail set, a vessel should make no leeway. If the topgallant sails are furled, it is customary to allow one point; under close-reefed topsails, two points; when under one close-reefed sail, four or five points. LEECH, or LEACH. The border or edge of a sail, at the sides. LEEFANGE. An iron bar, upon which the sheets of fore-and-aft sails traverse. Also, a rope rove through the cringle of a sail which has a bonnet to it, for hauling in, so as to lace on the bonnet. Not much used. LEEWARD. (Pronounced _lu-ard_.) The lee side. In a direction opposite to that from which the wind blows, which is called _windward_. The opposite of _lee_ is _weather_, and of _leeward_ is _windward_; the two first being adjectives. LIE-TO, is to stop the progress of a vessel at sea, either by counter-bracing the yards, or by reducing sail so that she will make little or no headway, but will merely come to and fall off by the counteraction of the sails and helm. LIFE-LINES. Ropes carried along yards, booms, &c., or at any part of the vessel, for men to hold on by. LIFT. A rope or tackle, going from the yard-arms to the mast-head, to support and move the yard. Also, a term applied to the sails when the wind strikes them on the leeches and raises them slightly. LIGHT. To move or lift anything along; as, to "_Light_ out to windward!" that is, haul the sail over to windward. The _light sails_ are all above the topsails, also the studdingsails and flying jib. LIGHTER. A large boat, used in loading and unloading vessels. LIMBERS, or LIMBER-HOLES. Holes cut in the lower part of the floor-timbers, next the keelson, forming a passage for the water fore-and-aft. _Limber-boards_ are placed over the limbers, and are movable. _Limber-rope._ A rope rove fore-and-aft through the limbers, to clear them if necessary. _Limber-streak._ The streak of foot-waling nearest the keelson. LIST. The inclination of a vessel to one side; as, a _list_ to port, or a _list_ to starboard. LIZARD. A piece of rope, sometimes with two legs, and one or more iron thimbles spliced into it. It is used for various purposes. One with two legs, and a thimble to each, is often made fast to the topsail tye, for the buntlines to reeve through. A single one is sometimes used on the swinging-boom topping-lift. LOCKER. A chest or box, to stow anything away in. _Chain-locker._ Where the chain cables are kept. _Boatswain's locker._ Where tools and small stuff for working upon rigging are kept. LOG, or LOG-BOOK. A journal kept by the chief officer, in which the situation of the vessel, winds, weather, courses, distances, and everything of importance that occurs, is noted down. _Log._ A line with a piece of board, called the _log-chip_, attached to it, wound upon a reel, and used for ascertaining the ship's rate of sailing. (See page 17.) LONG-BOAT. The largest boat in a merchant vessel. When at sea, it is carried between the fore and main masts. LONGERS. The longest casks, stowed next the keelson. LONG-TIMBERS. Timbers in the cant-bodies, reaching from the dead-wood to the head of the second futtock. LOOF. That part of a vessel where the planks begin to bend as they approach the stern. LOOM. That part of an oar which is within the row-lock. Also, to appear above the surface of the water; to appear larger than nature, as in a fog. LUBBER'S HOLE. A hole in the top, next the mast. LUFF. To put the helm so as to bring the ship up nearer to the wind. _Spring-a-luff!_ _Keep your luff!_ &c. Orders to luff. Also, the roundest part of a vessel's bow. Also, the forward leech of fore-and-aft sails. LUFF-TACKLE. A purchase composed of a double and single block. (See page 54.) _Luff-upon-luff._ A luff tackle applied to the fall of another. LUGGER. A small vessel carrying lug-sails. _Lug-sail._ A sail used in boats and small vessels, bent to a yard which hangs obliquely to the mast. LURCH. The sudden rolling of a vessel to one side. LYING-TO. (See LIE-TO.) MADE. A _made mast_ or _block_ is one composed of different pieces. A ship's lower mast is a made spar, her topmast is a whole spar. MALL, or MAUL. (Pronounced _mawl_.) A heavy iron hammer used in driving bolts. (See TOP-MAUL.) MALLET. A small maul, made of wood; as, _caulking-mallet_; also, _serving-mallet_, used in putting service on a rope. MANGER. A coaming just within the hawse hole. Not much in use. MAN-ROPES. Ropes used in going up and down a vessel's side. MARL. To wind or twist a small line or rope round another. MARLINE. (Pronounced _mar-lin_.) Small two-stranded stuff, used for marling. A finer kind of spunyarn. MARLING-HITCH. A kind of hitch used in marling. MARLINGSPIKE. An iron pin, sharpened at one end, and having a hole in the other for a lanyard. Used both as a fid and a heaver. MARRY. To join ropes together by a worming over both. MARTINGALE. A short, perpendicular spar, under the bowsprit-end, used for guying down the head-stays. (See DOLPHIN-STRIKER.) MAST. A spar set upright from the deck, to support rigging, yards and sails. Masts are whole or _made_. MAT. Made of strands of old rope, and used to prevent chafing. MATE. An officer under the master. MAUL. (See MALL.) MEND. _To mend service_, is to add more to it. MESHES. The places between the lines of a netting. MESS. Any number of men who eat or lodge together. MESSENGER. A rope used for heaving in a cable by the capstan. MIDSHIPS. The timbers at the broadest part of the vessel. (See AMIDSHIPS.) MISS-STAYS. To fail of going about from one tack to another. (See page 74.) MIZZEN-MAST. The aftermost mast of a ship. (See PLATE 1.) The spanker is sometimes called the _mizzen_. MONKEY BLOCK. A small single block strapped with a swivel. MOON-SAIL. A small sail sometimes carried in light winds, above a sky sail. MOOR. To secure by two anchors. (See page 88.) MORTICE. A _morticed block_ is one made out of a whole block of wood with a hole cut in it for the sheave; in distinction from a _made block_. (See page 53.) MOULDS. The patterns by which the frames of a vessel are worked out. MOUSE. To put turns of rope yarn or spunyarn round the end of a hook and its standing part, when it is hooked to anything, so as to prevent its slipping out. MOUSING. A knot or puddening, made of yarns, and placed on the outside of a rope. MUFFLE. Oars are muffled by putting mats or canvass round their looms in the row-locks. MUNIONS. The pieces that separate the lights in the galleries. NAVAL HOODS, or HAWSE BOLSTERS. Plank above and below the hawse-holes. NEAP TIDES. Low tides, coming at the middle of the moon's second and fourth quarters. (See SPRING TIDES.) NEAPED, or BENEAPED. The situation of a vessel when she is aground at the height of the spring tides. NEAR. Close to wind. "Near!" the order to the helmsman when he is too near the wind. NETTING. Network of rope or small lines. Used for stowing away sails or hammocks. NETTLES. (See KNITTLES.) NINEPIN BLOCK. A block in the form of a ninepin, used for a _fair-leader_ in the rail. NIP. A short turn in a rope. NIPPERS. A number of yarns marled together, used to secure a cable to the messenger. NOCK. The forward upper end of a sail that sets with a boom. NUN-BUOY. A buoy tapering at each end. NUT. Projections on each side of the shank of an anchor, to secure the stock to its place. OAKUM. Stuff made by picking rope-yarns to pieces. Used for caulking, and other purposes. OAR. A long wooden instrument with a flat blade at one end, used for propelling boats. OFF-AND-ON. To stand on different tacks towards and from the land. OFFING. Distance from the shore. ORLOP. The lower deck of a ship of the line; or that on which the cables are stowed. OUT-HAUL. A rope used for hauling out the clew of a boom sail. OUT-RIGGER. A spar rigged out to windward from the tops or cross-trees, to spread the breast-backstays. (See page 25.) OVERHAUL. _To overhaul a tackle_, is to let go the fall and pull on the leading parts so as to separate the blocks. _To overhaul a rope_, is generally to pull a part through a block so as to make slack. _To overhaul rigging_, is to examine it. OVER-RAKE. Said of heavy seas which come over a vessel's head when she is at anchor, head to the sea. PAINTER. A rope attached to the bows of a boat, used for making her fast. PALM. A piece of leather fitted over the hand, with an iron for the head of a needle to press against in sewing upon canvass. Also, the fluke of an anchor. PANCH. (See PAUNCH.) PARBUCKLE. To hoist or lower a spar or cask by single ropes passed round it. PARCEL. (See page 44.) To wind tarred canvass, (called _parcelling_,) round a rope. PARCELLING. (See PARCEL.) PARLIAMENT-HEEL. The situation of a vessel when she is careened. PARRAL. The rope by which a yard is confined to a mast at its centre. PART. To break a rope. PARTNERS. A frame-work of short timber fitted to the hole in a deck, to receive the heel of a mast or pump, &c. PAZAREE. A rope attached to the clew of the foresail and rove through a block on the swinging boom. Used for guying the clews out when before the wind. PAUNCH MAT. A thick mat, placed at the slings of a yard or elsewhere. PAWL. A short bar of iron, which prevents the capstan or windlass from turning back. _To pawl_, is to drop a pawl and secure the windlass or capstan. PAY-OFF. When a vessel's head falls off from the wind. _To pay._ To cover over with tar or pitch. _To pay out._ To slack up on a cable and let it run out. PEAK. The upper outer corner of a gaff-sail. PEAK. (See A-PEAK.) A _stay-peak_ is when the cable and fore stay form a line. A _short stay-peak_ is when the cable is too much in to form this line. PENDANT, or PENNANT. A long narrow piece of bunting, carried at the mast-head. _Broad pennant_, is a square piece, carried in the same way, in a commodore's vessel. _Pennant._ A rope to which a purchase is hooked. A long strap fitted at one end to a yard or mast-head, with a hook or block at the other end, for a brace to reeve through, or to hook a tackle to. PILLOW. A block which supports the inner end of the bowsprit. PIN. The axis on which a sheave turns. Also, a short piece of wood or iron to belay ropes to. PINK-STERN. A high, narrow stern. PINNACE. A boat, in size between the launch and a cutter. PINTLE. A metal bolt, used for hanging a rudder. PITCH. A resin taken from pine, and used for filling up the seams of a vessel. PLANKS. Thick, strong boards, used for covering the sides and decks of vessels. PLAT. A braid of foxes. (See FOX.) PLATE. (See CHAIN-PLATE.) PLUG. A piece of wood, fitted into a hole in a vessel or boat, so as to let in or keep out water. POINT. To take the end of a rope and work it over with knittles. (See page 51. See REEF-POINTS.) POLE. Applied to the highest mast of a ship, usually painted; as, _skysail pole_. POOP. A deck raised over the after part of the spar deck. A vessel is _pooped_ when the sea breaks over her stern. POPPETS. Perpendicular pieces of timber fixed to the fore-and-aft part of the bilge-ways in launching. PORT. Used instead of _larboard_. _To port the helm_, is to put it to the larboard. PORT, or PORT-HOLE. Holes in the side of a vessel, to point cannon out of. (See BRIDLE.) PORTOISE. The gunwale. The yards are _a-portoise_ when they rest on the gunwale. PORT-SILLS. (See SILLS.) PREVENTER. An additional rope or spar, used as a support. PRICK. A quantity of spunyarn or rope laid close up together. PRICKER. A small marlinspike, used in sail-making. It generally has a wooden handle. PUDDENING. A quantity of yarns, matting or oakum, used to prevent chafing. PUMP-BRAKE. The handle to the pump. PURCHASE. A mechanical power which increases the force applied. _To purchase_, is to raise by a purchase. QUARTER. The part of a vessel's side between the after part of the main chains and the stern. The _quarter_ of a yard is between the slings and the yard-arm. The wind is said to be _quartering_, when it blows in a line between that of the keel and the beam and abaft the latter. QUARTER-BLOCK. A block fitted under the quarters of a yard on each side the slings, for the clewlines and sheets to reeve through. QUARTER-DECK. That part of the upper deck abaft the main-mast. QUARTER-MASTER. A petty officer in a man-of-war, who attends the helm and binnacle at sea, and watches for signals, &c., when in port. QUICK-WORK. That part of a vessel's side which is above the chain-wales and decks. So called in ship-building. QUILTING. A coating about a vessel, outside, formed of ropes woven together. QUOIN. A wooden wedge for the breech of a gun to rest upon. RACE. A strong, rippling tide. RACK. To seize two ropes together, with cross-turns. Also, a _fair-leader_ for running rigging. RACK-BLOCK. A course of blocks made from one piece of wood, for fair-leaders. RAKE. The inclination of a mast from the perpendicular. RAMLINE. A line used in mast-making to get a straight middle line on a spar. RANGE OF CABLE. A quantity of cable, more or less, placed in order for letting go the anchor or paying out. RATLINES. (Pronounced _rat-lins_.) Lines running across the shrouds, horizontally, like the rounds of a ladder, and used to step upon in going aloft. RATTLE DOWN RIGGING. To put ratlines upon rigging. It is still called rattling _down_, though they are now rattled _up_; beginning at the lowest. (See page 23.) RAZEE. A vessel of war which has had one deck cut down. REEF. To reduce a sail by taking in upon its head, if a square sail, and its foot, if a fore-and-aft sail. REEF-BAND. A band of stout canvass sewed on the sail across, with points in it, and earings at each end for reefing. A _reef_ is all of the sail that is comprehended between the head of the sail and the first reef-band, or between two reef-bands. REEF-TACKLE. A tackle used to haul the middle of each leech up toward the yard, so that the sail may be easily reefed. REEVE. To pass the end of a rope through a block, or any aperture. RELIEVING TACKLE. A tackle hooked to the tiller in a gale of wind, to steer by in case anything should happen to the wheel or tiller-ropes. RENDER. To pass a rope through a place. A rope is said to _render_ or not, according as it goes freely through any place. RIB-BANDS. Long, narrow, flexible pieces of timber nailed to the outside of the ribs, so as to encompass the vessel lengthwise. RIBS. A figurative term for a vessel's timbers. RIDE AT ANCHOR. To lie at anchor. Also, to bend or bear down by main strength and weight; as, to _ride down_ the main tack. RIDERS. Interior timbers placed occasionally opposite the principal ones, to which they are bolted, reaching from the keelson to the beams of the lower deck. Also, casks forming the second tier in a vessel's hold. RIGGING. The general term for all the ropes of a vessel. (See RUNNING, STANDING.) Also, the common term for the shrouds with their ratlines; as, the _main rigging_, _mizzen rigging_, &c. RIGHT. To _right_ the helm, is to put it amidships. RIM. The edge of a top. RING. The iron ring at the upper end of an anchor, to which the cable is bent. RING-BOLT. An eye-bolt with a ring through the eye. (See EYE-BOLT.) RING-TAIL. A small sail, shaped like a jib, set abaft the spanker in light winds. ROACH. A curve in the foot of a square sail, by which the clews are brought below the middle of the foot. The _roach_ of a fore-and-aft sail is in its forward leech. ROAD, or ROADSTEAD. An anchorage at some distance from the shore. ROBANDS. (See ROPE-BANDS.) ROLLING TACKLE. Tackles used to steady the yards in a heavy sea. ROMBOWLINE. Condemned canvass, rope, &c. ROPE-BANDS, or ROBANDS. Small pieces of two or three yarn spunyarn or marline, used to confine the head of the sail to the yard or gaff. Rope-yarn. A thread of hemp, or other stuff, of which a rope is made. (See page 43.) ROUGH-TREE. An unfinished spar. ROUND IN. To haul in on a rope, especially a weather-brace. ROUND UP. To haul up on a tackle. ROUNDING. A service of rope, hove round a spar or larger rope. ROWLOCKS, or ROLLOCKS. Places cut in the gunwale of a boat for the oar to rest in while pulling. ROYAL. A light sail next above a topgallant sail. (See PLATE 2.) ROYAL YARD. The yard from which the royal is set. The fourth from the deck. (See PLATE 1.) RUBBER. A small instrument used to rub or flatten down the seams of a sail in sail-making. RUDDER. The machine by which a vessel or boat is steered. RUN. The after part of a vessel's bottom, which rises and narrows in approaching the stern-post. _By the run._ To let go _by the run_, is to let go altogether, instead of slacking off. RUNG-HEADS. The upper ends of the floor-timbers. RUNNER. A rope used to increase the power of a tackle. It is rove through a single block which you wish to bring down, and a tackle is hooked to each end, or to one end, the other being made fast. RUNNING RIGGING. The ropes that reeve through blocks, and are pulled and hauled, such as braces, halyards, &c.; in opposition to the _standing rigging_, the ends of which are securely seized, such as stays, shrouds, &c. (See page 43.) SADDLES. Pieces of wood hollowed out to fit on the yards to which they are nailed, having a hollow in the upper part for the boom to rest in. SAG. To _sag to leeward_, is to drift off bodily to leeward. SAILS are of two kinds: _square sails_, which hang from yards, their foot lying across the line of the keel, as the courses, topsails, &c.; and _fore-and-aft sails_, which set upon gaffs, or on stays, their foot running with the line of the keel, as jib, spanker, &c. SAIL HO! The cry used when a sail is first discovered at sea. SAVE-ALL. A small sail sometimes set under the foot of a lower studdingsail. (See WATER SAIL.) SCANTLING. A term applied to any piece of timber, with regard to its breadth and thickness, when reduced to the standard size. SCARF. To join two pieces of timber at their ends by shaving them down and placing them over-lapping. SCHOONER. (See PLATE 4.) A small vessel with two masts and no tops. A _fore-and-aft schooner_ has only fore-and-aft sails. A _topsail schooner_ carries a square fore topsail, and frequently, also, topgallant sail and royal. There are some schooners with three masts. They also have no tops. A _main-topsail schooner_ is one that carries square topsails, fore and aft. SCORE. A groove in a block or dead-eye. SCOTCHMAN. A large batten placed over the turnings-in of rigging. (See BATTEN.) SCRAPER. A small, triangular iron instrument, with a handle fitted to its centre, and used for scraping decks and masts. SCROWL. A piece of timber bolted to the knees of the head, in place of a figure-head. SCUD. To drive before a gale, with no sail, or only enough to keep the vessel ahead of the sea. Also, low, thin clouds that fly swiftly before the wind. SCULL. A short oar. _To scull_, is to impel a boat by one oar at the stern. SCUPPERS. Holes cut in the water-ways for the water to run from the decks. SCUTTLE. A hole cut in a vessel's deck, as, a hatchway. Also, a hole cut in any part of a vessel. _To scuttle_, is to cut or bore holes in a vessel to make her sink. SCUTTLE-BUTT. (See BUTT.) SEAMS. The intervals between planks in a vessel's deck or side. SEIZE. To fasten ropes together by turns of small stuff. SEIZINGS. (See page 51.) The fastenings of ropes that are seized together. SELVAGEE. A skein of rope-yarns or spunyarn, marled together. Used as a neat strap. (See page 50.) SEND. When a ship's head or stern pitches suddenly and violently into the trough of the sea. SENNIT, or SINNIT. (See page 52.) A braid, formed by plaiting rope-yarns or spunyarn together. Straw, plaited in the same way for hats, is called sennit. SERVE. (See page 44.) To wind small stuff, as rope-yarns, spunyarn, &c., round a rope, to keep it from chafing. It is wound and hove round taut by a serving-board or mallet. SERVICE, is the stuff so wound round. SET. To _set up rigging_, is to tauten it by tackles. The seizings are then put on afresh. SHACKLES. Links in a chain cable which are fitted with a movable bolt so that the chain can be separated. SHAKES. The staves of hogsheads taken apart. SHANK. The main piece in an anchor, at one end of which the stock is made fast, and at the other the arms. SHANK-PAINTER. A strong rope by which the lower part of the shank of an anchor is secured to the ship's side. SHARP UP. Said of yards when braced as near fore-and-aft as possible. SHEATHING. A casing or covering on a vessel's bottom. SHEARS. Two or more spars, raised at angles and lashed together near their upper ends, used for taking in masts. (See page 52.) SHEAR HULK. An old vessel fitted with shears, &c., and used for taking out and putting in the masts of other vessels. SHEAVE. The wheel in a block upon which the rope works. _Sheave-hole_, the place cut in a block for the ropes to reeve through. SHEEP-SHANK. A kind of hitch or bend, used to shorten a rope temporarily. (See PLATE 5 and page 50.) SHEER, or SHEER-STRAKE. The line of plank on a vessel's side, running fore-and-aft under the gunwale. Also, a vessel's position when riding by a single anchor. SHEET. A rope used in setting a sail, to keep the clew down to its place. With square sails, the sheets run through each yard-arm. With boom sails, they haul the boom over one way and another. They keep down the inner clew of a studdingsail and the after clew of a jib. (See HOME.) SHEET ANCHOR. A vessel's largest anchor: not carried at the bow. SHELL. The case of a block. SHINGLE. (See BALLAST.) SHIP. A vessel with three masts, with tops and yards to each. (See PLATE 4.) To enter on board a vessel. To fix anything in its place. SHIVER. To shake the wind out of a sail by bracing it so that the wind strikes upon the leech. SHOE. A piece of wood used for the bill of an anchor to rest upon, to save the vessel's side. Also, for the heels of shears, &c. SHOE-BLOCK. A block with two sheaves, one above the other, the one horizontal and the other perpendicular. SHORE. A prop or stanchion, placed under a beam. To _shore_, to prop up. SHROUDS. A set of ropes reaching from the mast-heads to the vessel's sides, to support the masts. SILLS. Pieces of timber put in horizontally between the frames to form and secure any opening; as, for ports. SISTER BLOCK. A long piece of wood with two sheaves in it, one above the other, with a score between them for a seizing, and a groove around the block, lengthwise. SKIDS. Pieces of timber placed up and down a vessel's side, to bear any articles off clear that are hoisted in. SKIN. The part of a sail which is outside and covers the rest when it is furled. Also, familiarly, the sides of the hold; as, an article is said to be stowed _next the skin_. SKYSAIL. A light sail next above the royal. (See PLATE 2.) SKY-SCRAPER. A name given to a _skysail_ when it is triangular. SLABLINE. A small line used to haul up the foot of a course. SLACK. The part of a rope or sail that hangs down loose. _Slack in stays_, said of a vessel when she works slowly in tacking. SLEEPERS. The knees that connect the transoms to the after timbers on the ship's quarter. SLING. To set a cask, spar, gun, or other article, in ropes, so as to put on a tackle and hoist or lower it. SLINGS. The ropes used for securing the centre of a yard to the mast. _Yard-slings_ are now made of iron. Also, a large rope fitted so as to go round any article which is to be hoisted or lowered. SLIP. To let a cable go and stand out to sea. (See page 90.) SLIP-ROPE. A rope bent to the cable just outside the hawse-hole, and brought in on the weather quarter, for slipping. (See page 90.) SLOOP. A small vessel with one mast. (See PLATE 4.) SLOOP OF WAR. A vessel of any rig, mounting between 18 and 32 guns. SLUE. To turn anything round or over. SMALL STUFF. The term for spunyarn, marline, and the smallest kinds of rope, such as ratline-stuff, &c. SNAKE. To pass small stuff across a seizing, with marling hitches at the outer turns. SNATCH-BLOCK. A single block, with an opening in its side below the sheave, or at the bottom, to receive the bight of a rope. SNOTTER. A rope going over a yard-arm, with an eye, used to bend a tripping-line to in sending down topgallant and royal yards in vessels of war. SNOW. A kind of brig, formerly used. SNUB. To check a rope suddenly. SNYING. A term for a circular plank edgewise, to work in the bows of a vessel. SO! An order to 'vast hauling upon anything when it has come to its right position. SOLE. A piece of timber fastened to the foot of the rudder, to make it level with the false keel. SOUND. To get the depth of water by a lead and line. (See page 85.) The pumps are _sounded_ by an iron _sounding rod_, marked with a scale of feet and inches. SPAN. A rope with both ends made fast, for a purchase to be hooked to its bight. SPANKER. The after sail of a ship or bark. It is a fore-and-aft sail, setting with a boom and gaff. (See PLATE 2.) SPAR. The general term for all masts, yards, booms, gaffs, &c. SPELL. The common term for a portion of time given to any work. _To spell_, is to relieve another at his work. _Spell ho!_ An exclamation used as an order or request to be relieved at work by another. SPENCER. A fore-and-aft sail, set with a gaff and no boom, and hoisting from a small mast called a _spencer-mast_, just abaft the fore and main masts. (See PLATES 2 and 4.) SPILL. To shake the wind out of a sail by bracing it so that the wind may strike its leech and shiver it. SPILLING LINE. A rope used for spilling a sail. Rove in bad weather. SPINDLE. An iron pin upon which the capstan moves. Also, a piece of timber forming the diameter of a made mast. Also, any long pin or bar upon which anything revolves. SPIRKETING. The planks from the water-ways to the port-sills. SPLICE. (See PLATE 5 and page 44.) To join two ropes together by interweaving their strands. SPOON-DRIFT. Water swept from the tops of the waves by the violence of the wind in a tempest, and driven along before it, covering the surface of the sea. SPRAY. An occasional sprinkling dashed from the top of a wave by the wind, or by its striking an object. SPRING. To crack or split a mast. _To spring a leak_, is to begin to leak. _To spring a luff_, is to force a vessel close to the wind, in sailing. SPRING-STAY. A preventer-stay, to assist the regular one. (See STAY.) SPRING TIDES. The highest and lowest course of tides, occurring every new and full moon. SPRIT. A small boom or gaff, used with some sails in small boats. The lower end rests in a becket or snotter by the foot of the mast, and the other end spreads and raises the outer upper corner of the sail, crossing it diagonally. A sail so rigged in a boat is called a _sprit-sail_. SPRIT-SAIL-YARD. (See PLATE 1.) A yard lashed across the bowsprit or knight-heads, and used to spread the guys of the jib and flying jib-boom. There was formerly a sail bent to it called a _sprit-sail_. SPUNYARN. (See page 44.) A cord formed by twisting together two or three rope-yarns. SPURLING LINE. A line communicating between the tiller and tell-tale. SPURS. Pieces of timber fixed on the bilge-ways, their upper ends being bolted to the vessel's sides above the water. Also, curved pieces of timber, serving as half beams, to support the decks where whole beams cannot be placed. SPUR-SHOES. Large pieces of timber that come abaft the pump-well. SQUARE. Yards are _squared_ when they are horizontal and at right angles with the keel. Squaring by the lifts makes them horizontal; and by the braces, makes them at right angles with the vessel's line. Also, the proper term for the length of yards. A vessel has square yards when her yards are unusually long. A sail is said to be very square on the head when it is long on the head. _To square a yard_, in working ship, means to bring it in square by the braces. SQUARE-SAIL. A temporary sail, set at the fore-mast of a schooner or sloop when going before the wind. (See SAIL.) STABBER. A PRICKER. STAFF. A pole or mast, used to hoist flags upon. STANCHIONS. (See PLATE 3.) Upright posts of wood or iron, placed so as to support the beams of a vessel. Also, upright pieces of timber, placed at intervals along the sides of a vessel, to support the bulwarks and rail, and reaching down to the bends, by the side of the timbers, to which they are bolted. Also, any fixed, upright support; as to an awning, or for the man-ropes. STAND BY! An order to be prepared. STANDARD. An inverted knee, placed above the deck instead of beneath it; as, _bitt-standard_, &c. STANDING. The _standing part_ of a rope is that part which is fast, in opposition to the part that is hauled upon; or the main part, in opposition to the end. The _standing part_ of a tackle is that part which is made fast to the blocks and between that and the next sheave, in opposition to the hauling and leading parts. STANDING RIGGING. (See page 43.) That part of a vessel's rigging which is made fast and not hauled upon. (See RUNNING.) STARBOARD. The right side of a vessel, looking forward. STARBOWLINES. The familiar term for the men in the starboard watch. START. To _start a cask_, is to open it. STAY. To tack a vessel, or put her about, so that the wind, from being on one side, is brought upon the other, round the vessel's head. (See TACK, WEAR.) _To stay a mast_, is to incline it forward or aft, or to one side or the other, by the stays and backstays. Thus, a mast is said to be _stayed_ too much forward or aft, or too much to port, &c. _Stays._ Large ropes, used to support masts, and leading from the head of some mast down to some other mast, or to some part of the vessel. Those which lead forward are called _fore-and-aft stays_; and those which lead down to the vessel's sides, _backstays_. (See BACKSTAYS.) _In stays_, or _hove in stays_, the situation of a vessel when she is _staying_, or going about from one tack to the other. STAYSAIL. A sail which hoists upon a stay. STEADY! An order to keep the helm as it is. STEERAGE. That part of the between-decks which is just forward of the cabin. STEEVE. A bowsprit _steeves_ more or less, according as it is raised more or less from the horizontal. The _steeve_ is the angle it makes with the horizon. Also, a long, heavy spar, with a place to fit a block at one end, and used in stowing certain kinds of cargo, which need be driven in close. STEM. (See PLATE 3.) A piece of timber reaching from the forward end of the keel, to which it is scarfed, up to the bowsprit, and to which the two sides of the vessel are united. STEMSON. A piece of compass-timber, fixed on the after part of the apron inside. The lower end is scarfed into the keelson, and receives the scarf of the stem, through which it is bolted. STEP. A block of wood secured to the keel, into which the heel of the mast is placed. _To step a mast_, is to put it in its step. STERN. (See PLATE 3.) The after end of a vessel. (See BY THE STERN.) STERN-BOARD. The motion of a vessel when going stern foremost. STERN-FRAME. The frame composed of the stern-post transom and the fashion-pieces. STERN-POST. (See PLATE 3.) The aftermost timber in a ship, reaching from the after end of the keel to the deck. The stem and stern-post are the two extremes of a vessel's frame. _Inner stern-post._ A post on the inside, corresponding to the _stern-post_. STERN-SHEETS. The after part of a boat, abaft the rowers, where the passengers sit. STIFF. The quality of a vessel which enables it to carry a great deal of sail without lying over much on her side. The opposite to _crank_. STIRRUPS. Ropes with thimbles at their ends, through which the foot-ropes are rove, and by which they are kept up toward the yards. STOCK. A beam of wood, or a bar of iron, secured to the upper end of the shank of an anchor, at right angles with the arms. An iron stock usually goes with a key, and unships. STOCKS. The frame upon which a vessel is built. STOOLS. Small channels for the dead-eyes of the backstays. STOPPER. A stout rope with a knot at one end, and sometimes a hook at the other, used for various purposes about decks; as, making fast a cable, so as to overhaul. (See CAT STOPPER, DECK STOPPER.) STOPPER BOLTS. Ring-bolts to which the deck stoppers are secured. STOP. A fastening of small stuff. Also, small projections on the outside of the cheeks of a lower mast, at the upper parts of the hounds. STRAND. (See page 43.) A number of rope-yarns twisted together. Three, four or nine strands twisted together form a rope. A rope is _stranded_ when one of its strands is parted or broken by chafing or by a strain. A vessel is _stranded_ when she is driven on shore. STRAP. A piece of rope spliced round a block to keep its parts well together. Some blocks have iron straps, in which case they are called _iron bound_. STREAK, or STRAKE. A range of planks running fore and aft on a vessel's side. STREAM. The _stream anchor_ is one used for warping, &c., and sometimes as a lighter anchor to moor by, with a hawser. It is smaller than the _bowers_, and larger than the _kedges_. _To stream a buoy_, is to drop it into the water. _Stretchers._ Pieces of wood placed across a boat's bottom, inside, for the oarsmen to press their feet against, in rowing. Also, cross pieces placed between a boat's sides to keep them apart when hoisted up and griped. STRIKE. To lower a sail or colors. STUDDINGSAILS. (See PLATE 2.) Light sails set outside the square sails, on booms rigged out for that purpose. They are only carried with a fair wind and in moderate weather. SUED, or SEWED. The condition of a ship when she is high and dry on shore. If the water leaves her two feet, she sues, or is sued, two feet. SUPPORTERS. The knee-timbers under the cat-heads. SURF. The breaking of the sea upon the shore. SURGE. A large, swelling wave. To _surge_ a rope or cable, is to slack it up suddenly where it renders round a pin, or round the windlass or capstan. _Surge ho!_ The notice given when a cable is to be _surged_. SWAB. A mop, formed of old rope, used for cleaning and drying decks. SWEEP. To drag the bottom for an anchor. Also, large oars, used in small vessels to force them ahead. SWIFT. To bring two shrouds or stays close together by ropes. SWIFTER. The forward shroud to a lower-mast. Also, ropes used to confine the capstan bars to their places when shipped. SWIG. A term used by sailors for the mode of hauling off upon the bight of a rope when its lower end is fast. SWIVEL. A long link of iron, used in chain cables, made so as to turn upon an axis and keep the turns out of a chain. SYPHERING. Lapping the edges of planks over each other for a bulkhead. TABLING. Letting one beam-piece into another. (See SCARFING.) Also, the broad hem on the borders of sails, to which the bolt-rope is sewed. TACK. To put a ship about, so that from having the wind on one side, you bring it round on the other by the way of her head. The opposite of _wearing_. A vessel is on the _starboard tack_, or has her _starboard tacks on board_, when she has the wind on her starboard side. The rope or tackle by which the weather clew of a course is hauled forward and down to the deck. The _tack_ of a fore-and-aft sail is the rope that keeps down the lower forward clew; and of a studdingsail, the lower outer clew. The tack of the lower studdingsail is called the _outhaul_. Also, that part of a sail to which the tack is attached. TACKLE. (Pronounced _tay-cle_.) A purchase, formed by a rope rove through one or more blocks. TAFFRAIL, or TAFFEREL. The rail round a ship's stern. TAIL. A rope spliced into the end of a block and used for making it fast to rigging or spars. Such a block is called a _tail-block_. A ship is said to _tail_ up or down stream, when at anchor, according as her stern swings up or down with the tide; in opposition to _heading_ one way or another, which is said of a vessel when under way. TAIL-TACKLE. A watch-tackle. (See page 54.) TAIL ON! or TALLY ON! An order given to take hold of a rope and pull. TANK. An iron vessel placed in the hold to contain the vessel's water. TAR. A liquid gum, taken from pine and fir trees, and used for caulking, and to put upon yarns in rope-making, and upon standing rigging, to protect it from the weather. TARPAULIN. A piece of canvass, covered with tar, used for covering hatches, boats, &c. Also, the name commonly given to a sailor's hat when made of tarred or painted cloth. TAUT. Tight. TAUNT. High or tall. Commonly applied to a vessel's masts. _All-a-taunt-o._ Said of a vessel when she has all her light and tall masts and spars aloft. TELL-TALE. A compass hanging from the beams of the cabin, by which the heading of a vessel may be known at any time. Also, an instrument connected with the barrel of the wheel, and traversing so that the officer may see the position of the tiller. TEND. To watch a vessel at anchor at the turn of tides, and cast her by the helm, and some sail if necessary, so as to keep turns out of her cables. TENON. The heel of a mast, made to fit into the step. THICK-AND-THIN BLOCK. A block having one sheave larger than the other. Sometimes used for quarter-blocks. THIMBLE. An iron ring, having its rim concave on the outside for a rope or strap to fit snugly round. THOLE-PINS. Pins in the gunwale of a boat, between which an oar rests when pulling, instead of a rowlock. THROAT. The inner end of a gaff, where it widens and hollows in to fit the mast. (See JAWS.) Also, the hollow part of a knee. The _throat_ brails, halyards, &c., are those that hoist or haul up the gaff or sail near the throat. Also, the angle where the arm of an anchor is joined to the shank. THRUM. To stick short strands of yarn through a mat or piece of canvass, to make a rough surface. THWARTS. The seats going across a boat, upon which the oarsmen sit. THWARTSHIPS. (See ATHWARTSHIPS.) TIDE. To _tide up or down_ a river or harbor, is to work up or down with a fair tide and head wind or calm, coming to anchor when the tide turns. TIDE-RODE. The situation of a vessel, at anchor, when she swings by the force of the tide. In opposition to _wind-rode_. TIER. A range of casks. Also, the range of the fakes of a cable or hawser. The _cable tier_ is the place in a hold or between decks where the cables are stowed. TILLER. A bar of wood or iron, put into the head of the rudder, by which the rudder is moved. TILLER-ROPES. Ropes leading from the tiller-head round the barrel of the wheel, by which a vessel is steered. TIMBER. A general term for all large pieces of wood used in ship-building. Also, more particularly, long pieces of wood in a curved form, bending outward, and running from the keel up, on each side, forming the _ribs_ of a vessel. The keel, stem, stern-posts and timbers form a vessel's outer frame. (See PLATE 3.) TIMBER-HEADS. (See PLATE 3.) The ends of the timbers that come above the decks. Used for belaying hawsers and large ropes. TIMENOGUY. A rope carried taut between different parts of the vessel, to prevent the sheet or tack of a course from getting foul, in working ship. TOGGLE. A pin placed through the bight or eye of a rope, block-strap, or bolt, to keep it in its place, or to put the bight or eye of another rope upon, and thus to secure them both together. TOMPION. A bung or plug placed in the mouth of a cannon. TOP. A platform, placed over the head of a lower mast, resting on the trestle-trees, to spread the rigging, and for the convenience of men aloft. (See PLATE 1.) To _top_ up a yard or boom, is to raise up one end of it by hoisting on the lift. TOP-BLOCK. A large iron-bound block, hooked into a bolt under the lower cap, and used for the top-rope to reeve through in sending up and down topmasts. TOP-LIGHT. A signal lantern carried in the top. TOP-LINING. A lining on the after part of sails, to prevent them from chafing against the top-rim. TOPMAST. (See PLATE 1.) The second mast above the deck. Next above the lower mast. TOPGALLANT MAST. (See PLATE 1.) The third mast above the deck. TOP-ROPE. The rope used for sending topmasts up and down. TOPSAIL. (See PLATE 2.) The second sail above the deck. TOPGALLANT SAIL. (See PLATE 2.) The third sail above the deck. TOPPING-LIFT. (See PLATE 1.) A lift used for topping up the end of a boom. TOP TIMBERS. The highest timbers on a vessel's side, being above the futtocks. (See PLATE 3.) TOSS. To throw an oar out of the rowlock, and raise it perpendicularly on its end, and lay it down in the boat, with its blade forward. TOUCH. A sail is said to _touch_, when the wind strikes the leech so as to shake it a little. _Luff and touch her!_ The order to bring the vessel up and see how near she will go to the wind. TOW. To draw a vessel along by means of a rope. TRAIN-TACKLE. The tackle used for running guns in and out. TRANSOMS. (See PLATE 3.) Pieces of timber going across the stern-post, to which they are bolted. TRANSOM-KNEES. Knees bolted to the transoms and after timbers. TRAVELLER. An iron ring, fitted so as to slip up and down a rope. TREENAILS, or TRUNNELS. Long wooden pins, used for nailing a plank to a timber. TREND. The lower end of the shank of an anchor, being the same distance on the shank from the throat that the arm measures from the throat to the bill. TRESTLE-TREES. Two strong pieces of timber, placed horizontally and fore-and-aft on opposite sides of a mast-head, to support the cross-trees and top, and for the fid of the mast above to rest upon. TRIATIC STAY. A rope secured at each end to the heads of the fore and main masts, with thimbles spliced into its bight, to hook the stay tackles to. TRICE. To haul up by means of a rope. TRICK. The time allotted to a man to stand at the helm. TRIM. The condition of a vessel, with reference to her cargo and ballast. A vessel is _trimmed_ by the head or by the stern. _In ballast trim_, is when she has only ballast on board. Also, to arrange the sails by the braces with reference to the wind. TRIP. To raise an anchor clear of the bottom. TRIPPING LINE. A line used for tripping a topgallant or royal yard in sending it down. TRUCK. A circular piece of wood, placed at the head of the highest mast on a ship. It has small holes or sheaves in it for signal halyards to be rove through. Also, the wheel of a gun-carriage. TRUNNIONS. The arms on each side of a cannon by which it rests upon the carriage, and on which, as an axis, it is elevated or depressed. TRUSS. The rope by which the centre of a lower yard is kept in toward the mast. TRYSAIL. A fore-and-aft sail, set with a boom and gaff, and hoisting on a small mast abaft the lower mast, called a _trysail-mast_. This name is generally confined to the sail so carried at the mainmast of a full-rigged brig; those carried at the foremast and at the mainmast of a ship or bark being called _spencers_, and those that are at the mizzenmast of a ship or bark, _spankers_. TUMBLING HOME. Said of a ship's sides when they fall in above the bends. The opposite of _wall-sided_. TURN. Passing a rope once or twice round a pin or kevel, to keep it fast. Also, two crosses in a cable. _To turn in_ or _turn out_, nautical terms for going to rest in a berth or hammock, and getting up from them. _Turn up!_ The order given to send the men up from between decks. TYE. A rope connected with a yard, to the other end of which a tackle is attached for hoisting. UNBEND. To cast off or untie. (See BEND.) UNION. The upper inner corner of an ensign. The rest of the flag is called the _fly_. The _union_ of the U.S. ensign is a blue field with white stars, and the _fly_ is composed of alternate white and red stripes. _Union-down._ The situation of a flag when it is hoisted upside down, bringing the union down instead of up. Used as a signal of distress. _Union-jack._ A small flag, containing only the union, without the fly, usually hoisted at the bowsprit-cap. UNMOOR. To heave up one anchor so that the vessel may ride at a single anchor. (See _Moor_.) UNSHIP. (See SHIP.) UVROU. (See EUVROU.) VANE. A fly worn at the mast-head, made of feathers or buntine, traversing on a spindle, to show the direction of the wind. (See DOG VANE.) VANG. (See PLATE 1.) A rope leading from the peak of the gaff of a fore-and-aft sail to the rail on each side, and used for steadying the gaff. 'VAST. (See AVAST.) VEER. Said of the wind when it changes. Also, to slack a cable and let it run out. (See PAY.) _To veer and haul_, is to haul and slack alternately on a rope, as in warping, until the vessel or boat gets headway. VIOL, or VOYAL. A larger messenger sometimes used in weighing an anchor by a capstan. Also, the block through which the messenger passes. WAIST. That part of the upper deck between the quarter-deck and forecastle. _Waisters._ Green hands, or broken-down seamen, placed in the waist of a man-of-war. WAKE. The track or path a ship leaves behind her in the water. WALES. Strong planks in a vessel's sides, running her whole length fore and aft. WALL. A knot put on the end of a rope. (See PLATE 5 and page 46.) WALL-SIDED. A vessel is _wall-sided_ when her sides run up perpendicularly from the bends. In opposition to _tumbling-home_ or _flaring out_. WARD-ROOM. The room in a vessel of war in which the commissioned officers live. WARE, or WEAR. To turn a vessel round, so that, from having the wind on one side, you bring it upon the other, carrying her stern round by the wind. In _tacking_, the same result is produced by carrying a vessel's head round by the wind. WARP. To move a vessel from one place to another by means of a rope made fast to some fixed object, or to a kedge. A _warp_ is a rope used for warping. If the warp is bent to a kedge which is let go, and the vessel is hove ahead by the capstan or windlass, it would be called _kedging_. WASH-BOARDS. Light pieces of board placed above the gunwale of a boat. WATCH. (See page 167.) A division of time on board ship. There are seven watches in a day, reckoning from 12 M. round through the 24 hours, five of them being of four hours each, and the two others, called _dog watches_, of two hours each, viz., from 4 to 6, and from 6 to 8, P.M. (See DOG WATCH.) Also, a certain portion of a ship's company, appointed to stand a given length of time. In the merchant service all hands are divided into two watches, larboard and starboard, with a mate to command each. A _buoy_ is said to _watch_ when it floats on the surface. WATCH-AND-WATCH. The arrangement by which the watches are alternated every other four hours. In distinction from keeping all hands during one or more watches. (See page 167.) _Anchor watch_, a small watch of one or two men, kept while in port. WATCH HO! WATCH! The cry of the man that heaves the deep-sea-lead. WATCH-TACKLE. (See page 54.) A small luff purchase with a short fall, the double block having a tail to it, and the single one a hook. Used for various purposes about decks. WATER SAIL. A _save-all_, set under the swinging-boom. WATER-WAYS. Long pieces of timber, running fore and aft on both sides, connecting the deck with the vessel's sides. The _scuppers_ are made through them to let the water off. (See PLATE 3.) WEAR. (See WARE.) WEATHER. In the direction from which the wind blows. (See WINDWARD, LEE.) A ship carries a _weather helm_ when she tends to come up into the wind, requiring you to put the helm up. _Weather gage._ A vessel has the _weather gage_ of another when she is to windward of her. A _weatherly ship_, is one that works well to windward, making but little leeway. WEATHER-BITT. To take an additional turn with a cable round the windlass-end. WEATHER ROLL. The roll which a ship makes to windward. WEIGH. To lift up; as, to weigh an anchor or a mast. WHEEL. The instrument by which a ship is steered; being a barrel, (round which the tiller-ropes go,) and a wheel with spokes. WHIP. (See page 54.) A purchase formed by a rope rove through a single block. _To whip_, is to hoist by a whip. Also, to secure the end of a rope from fagging by a seizing of twine. _Whip-upon-whip._ One whip applied to the fall of another. WINCH. A purchase formed by a horizontal spindle or shaft with a wheel or crank at the end. A small one with a wheel is used for making ropes or spunyarn. WINDLASS. The machine used in merchant vessels to weigh the anchor by. WIND-RODE. The situation of a vessel at anchor when she swings and rides by the force of the wind, instead of the tide or current. (See TIDE-RODE.) WING. That part of the hold or between-decks which is next the side. WINGERS. Casks stowed in the wings of a vessel. WING-AND-WING. The situation of a fore-and-aft vessel when she is going dead before the wind, with her foresail hauled over on one side and her mainsail on the other. WITHE, or WYTHE. An iron instrument fitted on the end of a boom or mast, with a ring to it, through which another boom or mast is rigged out and secured. WOOLD. To wind a piece of rope round a spar, or other thing. WORK UP. To draw the yarns from old rigging and make them into spunyarn, foxes, sennit, &c. Also, a phrase for keeping a crew constantly at work upon needless matters, and in all weathers, and beyond their usual hours, for punishment. WORM. (See page 44.) To fill up between the lays of a rope with small stuff wound round spirally. Stuff so wound round is called _worming_. WRING. To bend or strain a mast by setting the rigging up too taut. WRING-BOLTS. Bolts that secure the planks to the timbers. WRING-STAVES. Strong pieces of plank used with the wring-bolts. YACHT. (Pronounced _yot_.) A vessel of pleasure or state. YARD. (See PLATE 1.) A long piece of timber, tapering slightly toward the ends, and hung by the centre to a mast, to spread the square sails upon. YARD-ARM. The extremities of a yard. YARD-ARM AND YARD-ARM. The situation of two vessels, lying alongside one another, so near that their yard-arms cross or touch. YARN. (See ROPE-YARN.) YAW. The motion of a vessel when she goes off from her course. YEOMAN. A man employed in a vessel of war to take charge of a storeroom; as, boatswain's yeoman, the man that has charge of the stores, of rigging, &c. YOKE. A piece of wood placed across the head of a boat's rudder, with a rope attached to each end, by which the boat is steered. PART II. CHAPTER I. THE MASTER. Beginning of the voyage. Shipping the crew. Outfit. Provisions. Watches. Navigation. Log-book. Observations. Working ship. Day's work. Discipline. In the third part of this work, it will be seen that the shipmaster is a person to whom, both by the general marine law of all commercial nations and by the special statutes of the United States, great powers are confided, and upon whom heavy responsibilities rest. The shipmaster will find there what are his legal rights, duties and remedies as to owner, ship and crew, and the various requirements as to the papers with which he is to furnish his ship, and the observances of revenue and other regulations. It is proposed to give here, rather more, perhaps, for the information of others than of the master himself, the ordinary and every-day duties of his office, and the customs which long usage has made almost as binding as laws. There is a great difference in different ports, and among the various owners, as to the part the master is to take in supplying and manning the vessel. In many cases, the owner puts on board all the stores for the ship's use and for the crew, and gives the master particular directions, sometimes in writing, as to the manner in which he is to dispense them. These directions are more or less liberal, according to the character of the owner; and, in some cases, the dispensing of the stores is left to the master's discretion. In other instances, the master makes out an inventory of all the stores he thinks it expedient to have put on board, and they are accordingly supplied by the owner's order. In the manner of shipping the crew, there is as great a difference as in that of providing the stores. Usually, the whole thing is left to shipping-masters, who are paid so much a head for each of the crew, and are responsible for their appearance on board at the time of sailing. When this plan is adopted, neither the master nor owner, except by accident, knows anything of the crew before the vessel goes to sea. The shipping-master opens the articles at his office, procures the men, sees that they sign in due form, pays them their advance, takes care that they, or others in their place, are on board at the time of sailing, and sends in a bill for the whole to the owner. In other cases, the master selects his crew, and occasionally the owner does it, if he has been at sea himself and understands seamen; though a shipping-master is still employed, to see them on board, and for other purposes. In the ordinary course of short voyages, where crews are shipped frequently, and there is not much motive for making a selection, the procuring a crew may be left entirely to the agency of a faithful shipping-master; but upon long voyages, the comfort and success of which may depend much upon the character of a crew, the master or owner should interest himself to select able-bodied and respectable men, to explain to them the nature and length of the voyage they are going upon, what clothing they will want, and the work that will be required of them, and should see that they have proper and sufficient accommodations and provisions for their comfort. The master or owner should also, though this duty is often neglected, go to the forecastle and see that it is cleaned out, whitewashed, or painted, put in a proper habitable condition, and furnished with every reasonable convenience. It would seem best that the master should have something to do with the selection of the provisions for his men, as he will usually be more interested in securing their good-will and comfort than the owner would be. By the master or owner's thus interesting himself for the crew, a great deal of misunderstanding, complaint, and ill-will may be avoided, and the beginning, at least, of the voyage be made under good auspices. Unless the master is also supercargo, his duties, before sailing, are mostly confined to looking after the outfit of the vessel, and seeing that she is in sea order. Everything being in readiness, the customhouse and other regulations complied with, and the crew on board, the vessel is put under the charge of the pilot to be carried out clear of the land. While the pilot is on board, the master has little else to do than to see that everything is in order, and that the commands of the pilot are executed. As soon as the pilot leaves the ship, the entire control and responsibility is thrown upon the master. When the vessel is well clear of the land, and things are put into some order, it is usual for the master to call all hands aft, and say something to them about the voyage upon which they have entered. After this, the crew are divided into watches. The watches are the divisions of the crew into two equal portions. The periods of time occupied by each part of the crew, while on duty, are also called watches. There are two watches,--the larboard, commanded by the chief mate, and the starboard, by the second mate. The master himself stands no watch, but comes and goes at all times, as he chooses. The starboard is sometimes called the captain's watch, probably from the fact that in the early days of the service, when vessels were smaller, there was usually but one mate, and the master stood his own watch; and now, in vessels which have no second mate, the master keeps the starboard watch. In dividing into watches, the master usually allows the officers to choose the men, one by one, alternately; but sometimes makes the division himself, upon consulting with his officers. The men are divided as equally as possible, with reference to their qualities as able seamen, ordinary seamen, or boys, (as all green hands are called, whatever their age may be;) but if the number is unequal, the larboard watch has the odd one, since the chief mate does not go aloft and do other duty in his watch, as the second mate does in his. The cook always musters with the larboard watch, and the steward with the starboard. If there is a carpenter, and the larboard watch is the largest, he generally goes aloft with the starboard watch; otherwise, with the larboard. As soon as the division is made, if the day's work is over, one watch is set, and the other is sent below. Among the numerous customs of the ocean, which can hardly be accounted for, it is one that on the first night of the outward passage the starboard watch should take the first four hours on deck, and on the first night of the homeward passage the larboard should do the same. The sailors explain this by the old phrase, that the master takes the ship out and the mate takes her home. The master takes the bearing and distance of the last point of departure upon the land, and from that point the ship's reckoning begins, and is regularly kept in the log-book. The chief mate keeps the log-book, but the master examines and corrects the reckoning every day. The master also attends to the chronometer, and takes all the observations, with the assistance of his officers, if necessary. Every day, a few minutes before noon, if there is any prospect of being able to get the sun, the master comes upon deck with his quadrant or sextant, and the chief mate also usually takes his. The second mate does not, except upon a Sunday, or when there is no work going forward. As soon as the sun crosses the meridian, eight bells are struck, and a new sea day begins. The reckoning is then corrected by the observation, under the master's superintendence. The master also takes the lunar observations, usually with the assistance of both his officers; in which case, the master takes the angle of the moon with the star or sun, the chief mate takes the altitude of the sun or star, and the second mate the altitude of the moon. In regulating the hours of duty and sleep, the meal times, the food, &c., the master has absolute power; yet the customs are very nearly the same in all vessels. The hour of breakfast is seven bells in the morning, (half after seven,) dinner at noon, and supper whenever the day's work is over. If the voyage is a long one, the crew are usually put upon an allowance of bread, beef, and water. The dispensing of the stores and regulating of the allowance lies, of course, with the master, though the duty of opening the casks, weighing, measuring, &c., falls upon the second mate. The chief mate enters in the log-book every barrel or cask of provisions that is broached. The steward takes charge of all the provisions for the use of the cabin, and keeps them in the pantry, over which he has the direct control. The average of allowance, in merchant vessels, is six pounds of bread a week, and three quarts of water, and one pound and a half of beef, or one and a quarter of pork, a day, to each man. The entire control of the navigation and working of the ship lies with the master. He gives the course and general directions to the officer of the watch, who enters upon a slate, at the end of the watch, the course made, and the number of knots, together with any other observations. The officer of the watch is at liberty to trim the yards, to make alterations in the upper sails, to take in and set royals, topgallant sails, &c.; but no important alteration can be made, as, for instance, reefing a topsail, without the special order of the master, who, in such cases, always comes upon deck and takes command in person. When on deck, the weather side of the quarter-deck belongs to him, and as soon as he appears, the officer of the watch will always leave it, and go over to leeward, or forward into the waist. If the alteration to be made is slight, the master usually tells the officer to take in or set such a sail, and leaves to him the particular ordering as to the braces, sheets, &c., and the seeing all things put in place. The principal manoeuvres of the vessel, as tacking, wearing, reefing topsails, getting under way, and coming to anchor, require all hands. In these cases, the master takes command and gives his orders in person, standing upon the quarter-deck. The chief mate superintends the forward part of the vessel, under the master, and the second mate assists in the waist. The master never goes aloft, nor does any work with his hands, unless for his own pleasure. If the officer of the watch thinks it necessary to reef the topsails, he calls the master, who, upon coming on deck, takes command, and, if he thinks proper, orders all hands to be called. The crew, officers and all, then take their stations, and await the orders of the master, who works the ship in person, giving all the commands, even the most minute, and looks out for trimming the yards and laying the ship for reefing. The chief mate commands upon the forecastle, under the master, and does not go aloft. The second mate goes aloft with the crew. In tacking and wearing, the master gives all the orders, as to trimming the yards, &c., though the chief mate is expected to look out for the head yards. So, in getting under way, and in coming to anchor, the master takes the entire personal control of everything, the officers acting under him in their several stations. In the ordinary day's work, however, which is carried on in a vessel, the state of things is somewhat different. This the master does not superintend personally; but gives general instructions to the chief mate, whose duty it is to see to their execution. To understand this distinction, the reader will bear in mind that there are two great divisions of duty and labor on shipboard. One, the _working and navigating of the vessel_: that is, the keeping and ascertaining the ship's position, and directing her course, the making and taking in sail, trimming the sails to the wind, and the various nautical manoeuvres and evolutions of a vessel. The other branch is, the work done upon the hull and rigging, to keep it in order, such as the making and fitting of new rigging, repairing of old, &c.; all which, together with making of small stuffs to be used on board, constitute the _day's work and jobs_ of the crew. As to the latter, the master usually converses with the chief mate upon the state of the vessel and rigging, and tells him, more or less particularly, what he wishes to have done. It then becomes the duty of this officer to see the thing accomplished. If, for instance, the master tells the chief mate to stay the topmasts more forward, the chief mate goes upon the forecastle, sets the men to work, one upon one thing and another upon another, sees that the stays and backstays are come up with, has tackles got upon the rigging, sights the mast, &c. If the master sees anything which he disapproves of, and has any preferences in the modes of doing the work, he should call the officer aft and speak to him; and if, instead of this, he were to go forward and give orders to the men, it would be considered an interference, and indeed an insult to the officer. So with any other work doing upon the ship or rigging, as rattling down, turning in and setting up rigging, bending and unbending sails, and all the knotting, splicing, serving, &c., and the making of small stuffs, which constitute the _day's work and jobs_ of a vessel. If the chief officer is a competent man, the master is not expected to trouble himself with the details of any of these things; and, indeed, if he were to do so to a great extent, it would probably lead to difficulty. Where there are passengers, as in regular line of packet ships (or, as they are familiarly called, _liners_,) between New York and Liverpool or Havre, for instance, the master has even less to do with the day's work; since the navigation and working of the ship, with proper attention to his passengers, is as much as can reasonably be required of him. The master has the entire control of the cabin. The mates usually live in a state room by themselves, or, if they live in the cabin, they yet feel that the master is the head of the house, and are unwilling to interfere with his hours and occupations. The chief mate dines with the master, and the second mate looks out for the ship while they are below, and dines at the second table. In the _liners_, however, the mates usually dine together; the master looks out for the ship while they are at dinner, and dines with his passengers at a later hour. As the master stands no watch, he comes and goes as he pleases, and takes his own hours for rest. In fine weather, he is not necessarily much on deck, but should be ready at all times, especially in bad weather, to be up at a moment's notice. Everything of importance that occurs, as the seeing a sail or land, or the like, must be immediately reported to the master. And in heaving-to for speaking, the master takes the entire charge of working the vessel, and speaks the other sail in person. As will be found in the third part of this book, the master has the entire control of the discipline of the ship, and no subordinate officer has authority to punish a seaman, or to use force, without the master's order, except in cases of necessity not admitting of delay. He has also the complete direction of the internal arrangements and economy of the vessel, and upon his character, and upon the course of conduct he pursues, depend in a great measure the character of the ship and the conduct of both officers and men. He has a power and influence, both direct and indirect, which may be the means of much good or much evil. If he is profane, passionate, tyrannical, indecent, or intemperate, more or less of the same qualities will spread themselves or break out among officers and men, which, perhaps would have been checked, if not in some degree removed, had the head of the ship been a man of high personal character. He may make his ship almost anything he chooses, and may render the lives and duties of his officers and men pleasant and profitable to them, or may introduce disagreements, discontent, tyranny, resistance, and, in fact, make the situation of all on board as uncomfortable as that in which any human beings can well be placed. Every master of a vessel who will lay this to heart, and consider his great responsibility, may not only be a benefactor to the numbers whom the course of many years will bring under his command, but may render a service to the whole class, and do much to raise the character of the calling. CHAPTER II. THE CHIEF MATE. Care of rigging and ship's furniture. Day's work. Working ship. Coming to anchor. Getting under way. Reefing. Furling. Duties in port. Account of cargo. Stowage. Station. Log-book. Navigation. The chief mate, or, as he is familiarly called on board ship, _the mate_, is the active superintending officer. In the previous chapter, upon the duties of the master, it will be seen that, in all matters relating to the care of and work done upon the ship and rigging, the master gives general orders to the mate, who attends personally to their execution in detail. Indeed, in the _day's work_ on board ship, the chief mate is the only officer who appears in command. The second mate works like a common seaman, and the men seldom know what is to be done until they receive their orders in detail from the chief mate. It is his duty to carry on the work, to find every man something to do, and to see that it is done. He appoints the second mate his work, as well as the common seamen theirs; and if the master is dissatisfied with anything, or wishes a change, he should speak to the chief mate, and let him make the change, and not interfere with the men individually. It is also the duty of this officer to examine all parts of the rigging, report anything of importance to the master and take his orders, or, if it be a small and common matter, he will have the repairs or changes made at his own pleasure, as a thing of course. He must also see that there is a supply of small stuffs for the work, and have them made up when necessary, and also that there are instruments ready for every kind of labor, or for any emergency. In bad weather, he must have spare rope, blocks, tackles, sennit, earings, &c., on hand; or rather, see that they are provided, the more immediate care of these things, when provided, belonging to the second mate. From this description of a chief mate's duty, it will be seen that he ought always to be not only a vigilant and active man, but also well acquainted with all kinds of seaman's work, and a good judge of rigging. In the working of the ship, when all hands are called and the master is on deck, the chief mate's place is on the forecastle, where, under the general direction of the master, who never need leave the quarter-deck, he commands the forward part of the vessel, and is the organ of communication with the men aloft. In getting under way and coming to anchor, it is his duty to attend to the ground tackle, and see everything ready forward. The master, for instance, tells him to have the ship ready for getting under way, and to heave short on the cable. He then goes forward, orders all hands to be called, sees everything secured about decks, tackles got up and boats hoisted in and lashed, fish and cat tackles, pennant, davit, &c., and spare hawsers and rope, in readiness, orders the men to the windlass, (the second mate taking a handspike with the rest,) and stationing himself between the knight-heads, looks out for the cable, ordering and encouraging the men. When the cable is hove short, he informs the master, and, at the word from him, orders the men aloft to loose the sails, and gives particular directions to them when aloft, as to the sails, gaskets, overhauling rigging, &c. The sails being loosed, he awaits the order from the master, which would be addressed to him rather than to the men, and has the windlass manned and the anchor hove up, giving notice to the master as soon as it is a-weigh. When the vessel is under way, the master begins to take more immediate control, ordering the yards to be braced and filled, sail to be set, and the like. The chief mate also sees to the catting and fishing of the anchors, to having the decks cleared up and everything secured. In coming to anchor, very nearly the same duty falls upon the chief officer. He must see the anchors and cables ready for letting go, the master ordering how much chain is to be overhauled. He must look out that the boats are ready for lowering, the rigging clear for letting go, hauling and clewing, and that spare hawsers, kedges, warps, &c., are at hand. If anything goes wrong forward, he alone is looked to for an explanation. As the vessel draws in toward her anchoring ground, the master gives all the orders as to trimming the yards and taking in sail; and at all times, when on deck, has the entire charge of the man at the helm, it being the mate's duty only to see that a good seaman is there, and that the helm is relieved. As to the sails, the master will, for instance, order--"Clew up the fore and main topsails!" The chief mate then gives the particular orders as to lowering and letting go the halyards, clewing down and up, overhauling rigging, &c. If both topsails were taken in at once, the second mate would attend to the main, unless the master should choose to look out for it himself. All being ready for letting go, the master gives the order--"Let go the anchor!" and the chief mate sees that it is done, has the chain payed out, reports how much is out, sees that the buoys _watch_, and the like. In furling the sails, the whole superintendence comes upon the mate, as the master would probably only tell him to have them furled. He has the rigging hauled taut, sends the men aloft, and, remaining on deck and forward, he gives his orders to them while on the yards, as to the manner of furling, and has the ropes hauled taut or let go on deck, as may be necessary. These instances may serve to show the distinctions between the duties of master and mate in the principal evolutions of a vessel. While in port, the chief mate has much more the control of the vessel than when at sea. As there is no navigating or working of the vessel to be done, the master has little to engage him, except transactions with merchants and others on shore, and the necessary general directions to the mate, as to the care of the ship. Beside the work upon the ship and rigging while in port, the chief mate has the charge of receiving, discharging, stowing and breaking out the cargo. In this he has the entire control, under the general directions of the master. It is his duty to keep an account of all the cargo, as it goes in and comes out of the vessel, and, as he generally gives receipts, he is bound to great care and accuracy. When cargo is coming in and going out, the chief mate will stand in the gangway, to keep an account, and the second mate will be down in the hold with some of the crew, breaking out, or stowing. The stowage, however, should still be somewhat under the chief mate's directions. While the master is on shore, the chief mate is necessarily commander of the ship, for the time, and though the law will extend his power proportionably for cases of necessity, yet, except in instances which will not admit of delay, he must not attempt to exercise any unusual powers, but should refer everything to the master's decision. It will be seen, by the laws, that the mate has no right to punish a man during the master's absence, unless it be a case in which delay would lead to serious consequences. While in port, the chief mate stands no watch at night, but he should always be the first to be called in the morning, and should be up early and order the calling of all hands. In cleaning the ship, as washing down decks, &c., which is done the first thing in the morning, each mate, while at sea, takes charge of it in his watch, in turn, as one or the other has the morning watch; but in port, the second mate oversees the washing down of the decks, under the chief mate's general orders. While at sea, in tacking, wearing, reefing topsails, &c., and in every kind of "all hands work," when the master is on deck, the chief mate's place, as I have said, is forward. To give a further notion of the manner of dividing the command, I will describe the evolution of tacking ship. The master finds that the ship will not lay her course, and tells the chief mate to 'see all clear for stays,' or 'ready about.' Upon this, the chief mate goes forward, sends all hands to their stations, and sees everything clear and ready on the forecastle. The master asks, "All ready forward?" and being answered, "Ay, ay, sir!" motions the man at the helm to put the wheel down, and calls out, "Helm's a-lee!" The mate, answering immediately, "Helm's a-lee," to let the master know he is heard and understood, sees that the head sheets are let go. At "Raise tacks and sheets!" from the master, the mate, and the men with him, let go the fore tack, while he looks after the overhauling of the other tack and sheet. He also sees to letting go the bowlines for "Let go and haul," and to getting down the head sheets when the ship is about, and trims the head yards, calling out to the men at the braces the usual orders, "Well the fore yard!" "Topsail yard, a small pull!" "Topgallant yard, well!" &c. The master usually trims the after yards. In reefing topsails, the chief mate should not go aloft, but should keep his place forward, and look out for the men on the yards. I am aware that it has been the custom in some classes of vessels, as in the New York liners, for the chief mate to take the weather earing of a course, especially if a topsail or the other course were reefing at the same time; yet this practice has never generally prevailed, and is now going out of date. I think I may say it is the opinion of all, masters, officers, and men, that it is better for the chief mate to remain on deck. There is always a good deal to be looked after, ropes to be let go or hauled, rigging to be cleared, and the like, beside the importance of having some one to oversee the men on the different yards; which the mate, standing at a little distance, can easily do. He is also the organ of communication between the yards and the deck, and can look after the reefing to more advantage than the master can upon the quarter-deck, where he must stay to watch the helm and sails. The chief mate is not required to work with his hands, like the second mate and the seamen. He will, of course, let go and belay ropes, and occasionally pull and haul with the men when working ship; but if there is much work to be done, his time and attention are sufficiently taken up with superintending and giving orders. As to his duties as a watch-officer, it will be necessary to repeat the explanations partly given in the chapter upon the master's duties. The crew are divided equally into two watches, the larboard and starboard; the larboard commanded by the chief mate, and the starboard by the second mate. These watches divide the day between them, being on and off duty every other four hours. This is the theory of the time, but in fact, in nearly all merchant vessels, all hands are kept on deck and at work throughout the afternoon, from one o'clock until sundown; and sometimes, if there is a great deal to be done, as immediately before making port, or after an accident, all hands may be kept throughout the day. This is, however, justly considered hard usage, if long continued, since it gives the men but little time for sleep, and none for reading, or taking care of their clothes. Although all hands may be on deck and at work during a day or a half day, yet the division of time is still kept up. For instance, if it is the mate's watch from 8 A.M. to 12; although all hands should be up from 12 to 5 or 6, yet from 12 to 4 the starboard watch would be considered as 'the watch on deck,' and the larboard again after 4; and so on; and during those hours the wheel will always be taken by men belonging to the watch on deck, and if any particular duty is ordered to be done by 'the watch,' that watch which has a man at the helm, and which would have been the only one on deck had not all hands been kept, would do the duty. But though this division is kept up as to the crew and the helmsman, it is not so as to the officers; for when all hands are on deck, the chief mate is always the officer in command, to whichever watch the hour may properly belong. He accordingly looks out for the ship, takes in and makes sail, and trims the yards, when all hands are on deck at work, as much in the hours of one watch as in those of the other, and he generally calls upon the men of either watch indifferently to pull and haul. But if only the starboard watch is on deck, though the chief mate should be on deck also, yet he will not interfere with the duties of that watch, but would leave the command of the vessel, and the weather side of the quarter-deck, to the second mate. Of course, whenever the master comes on deck, as I have said, in whosever watch it may be, or if all hands are up, he takes the weather side of the quarter-deck, and is considered as having charge of the ship; and the officer of the watch would then give no order with reference to the helm, trimming the yards, making sail, or the like, without a direction from the master. It will be necessary to make some explanations as to the stations of the chief and second mate. I have said that when all hands are called, the chief mate's place is the forecastle, and the second mate's amidships, or at the braces on the quarter-deck. This is only in working ship with all hands; that is, in tacking, wearing, reefing, coming to anchor, getting under way, &c. Whenever the work is done, and the necessity for the officers' presence at these parts of the vessel ceases, they return to their proper places on the quarter-deck. In a man-of-war there is always a lieutenant of the watch on the weather side of the quarter-deck, whatever work may be going forward, except in the single case of all hands being called to work ship; but it is not so in the merchant service. When the ordinary day's work is going forward, the mates must be about the decks or aloft, like the petty officers of a man-of-war; and it is only while no work is going forward, as in bad weather, on Sundays, or at night, that the officer of the watch keeps the quarter-deck. At these times he does so, and, if the master is not on deck, does not leave it, except for a short time, and for some necessary duty forward. It will be seen in the third part of this book, that the law looks upon the chief mate as standing in a different relation to the master from that of the second mate or the men. He is considered a confidential person, to whom the owners, shippers and insurers look, in some measure, for special duties and qualifications. The master, therefore, cannot remove him from office, except under very peculiar circumstances, and then must be able to prove a justifiable cause. One of these duties which the law throws upon him, is keeping the log-book. This is a very important trust, as the log-book is the depository of the evidence of everything that may occur during the voyage; and the position of the ship, the sail she was under, the wind, &c., at any one moment, may become matters of great consequence to all concerned. So it is with reference to anything that may occur between the master or officers and the crew. As to the manner of keeping the log, it is the custom for each officer at the end of his watch to enter upon the log-slate, which usually lies on the cabin table, the courses, distances, wind and weather during his watch, and anything worthy of note that may have occurred. Once in twenty-four hours the mate copies from this slate into the log-book; the master, however, first seeing the slate, examining it, and making any corrections or observations he may choose. This practice of copying from the slate, which is first submitted to the master, has led, in too many instances, to the mate's becoming the mere clerk of the master, to enter on the log-book whatever the latter may dictate. This is wrong. It is very proper that the master should examine the slate, and suggest alterations as to the ship's reckoning, &c., if necessary, but it is important to all concerned, both to the owners, shippers and insurers, on shore, and the crew of the vessel, that the independence of the mate, as the journalist of the voyage, should be preserved. The master, from the power of his office, can at all times make the situation of a mate who has displeased him extremely disagreeable, and from this cause has great indirect influence over him; the law and the custom should therefore be strictly adhered to which rightly make the chief officer, in this respect, in a manner the umpire between the master and the crew, as well as between all on board and the parties interested on shore. The law also makes the chief mate the successor to the master, in case the latter should die, or be unable to perform the duties of his office; and this without any action on the part of the crew. It is always important, therefore, that, to the practical seamanship and activity necessary for the discharge of the proper duties of his office, the mate should add a sufficient knowledge of navigation to be able to carry the ship on her voyage in case anything should happen to the master. Indeed, it has been doubted whether a vessel of the largest class, upon a long voyage, would be seaworthy with no navigator on board but the master. Both the chief and second mates are always addressed by their surnames, with _Mr._ prefixed, and are answered with the addition of _Sir_. This is a requirement of ship's duty, and an intentional omission of it is an offence against the rules and understanding of the service. CHAPTER III. SECOND AND THIRD MATES. SECOND MATE.--Navigation. Station. Watch duties. Day's work. Working ship. Reefing. Furling. Duties aloft. Care of ship's furniture. Stores. Duties in port. THIRD MATE.--Working ship. Day's work. Duties aloft--in port. Boating. Stores. The duties of the second mate are, to command the starboard watch when the master is not on deck, and to lead the crew in their work. It is not necessary that he should be a navigator, or even be able to keep a journal, though he should know enough of navigation to keep the courses and distances during his watch, and to report them correctly on the slate. There are also many advantages in his being acquainted with navigation and able to keep the log, as, in case of the chief mate's meeting with any accident, or being removed from office. The second mate, however, does not, by law, necessarily succeed to the office of chief mate, as the chief mate does to that of master; but it lies with the master for the time being to appoint whom he chooses to the office of chief mate: yet, if the second mate is capable of performing the duties of the office, he would ordinarily be appointed, as a matter of course. When the starboard watch alone is on deck, and the master is below, the second mate has charge of the ship. When both watches are on deck, the chief mate is officer of the deck, to whichever watch the time may belong, according to the division of the hours. When the master is on deck, he commands, in one watch as well as in the other. But the second mate does not give up the charge of the vessel to the chief mate, if he should happen to be on deck during the starboard watch, unless all hands are up. While he has charge of the vessel in his watch, his duties are the common ones of a watch officer; that is, to have an eye to the helm, watch the weather, keep a general lookout round the horizon, see to the trimming of the yards and making and taking in of the light sails, give the master notice of anything important that occurs, heave the log and keep an account of the winds, courses, rate of sailing, &c., and enter the same on the slate at the end of the watch. In these things the chief mate has no right to interfere, when it is not his watch on deck. But in all matters connected with the day's work and jobs, the second mate acts under the chief mate in his own watch, as that department belongs peculiarly to the chief mate. In working days, when the crew are employed about the ship and rigging, it is usual for the chief mate to tell the second mate what to do in his watch, and sometimes he remains on deck a few minutes to see to the commencement of the work. And while day's work is going forward, during the time that the chief mate has a watch below, as the second mate is expected to do jobs like a common seaman, it is the custom for the master to be on deck a good deal in the starboard watch and look after the vessel. While work is going forward, the second mate is about decks and aloft; but at other times, as at night, or on Sunday, or during bad weather, when day's work cannot be kept up, his place is on the quarter-deck; though still, he leaves it whenever anything is to be done forward or aloft which requires the presence of a whole watch, as, setting or taking in a lower or topmast studding-sail, or any of the heavy sails. When all hands are called to work ship, as in reefing, tacking, wearing, getting under way, coming to anchor, &c., the second mate's place is aft, at the fore and main braces and main and mizzen rigging; and generally, in all ship's duty, the chief mate and larboard watch belong forward, and the second mate and starboard watch aft. In tacking ship, the second mate looks out for the lee fore and main braces, sees them belayed to one pin and clear for letting go, lets go the main braces at "Mainsail haul!" and the fore at "Let go and haul!" He also steadies the weather braces as the yards come up. He then sees to getting down the main tack, hauling out the main and mizzen bowlines, hauling aft the main sheet, and, in short, has charge of all the duty to be done upon the quarterdeck and in the waist. In getting under way, the second mate takes a handspike at the windlass with the men, the place which custom has assigned him being the windlass-end. If anything is to be done with the braces while the men are heaving at the windlass, it is his duty to attend to it, as the chief mate must be looking out for the ground tackle. In reefing, the second mate goes aloft with the men, and takes his place at the weather earing. This is his proper duty, and he will never give it up, unless he is a youngster, and not strong enough or sufficiently experienced to lead the men on the yard. As soon as the order is given to clew down for reefing, and the halyards are let go, if there are hands enough to haul out the reef-tackles, he should go aloft, see that the yard is well down by the lifts, and then lay out to the weather yard-arm, and get his earing rove by the time the men are upon the yard. He then hauls it out and makes fast. If both topsails are reefed at once, he goes to the main; but if one sail is reefed at a time, he goes with the men from one to the other, taking the weather earing of each. He also goes aloft to reef a course, and takes the weather earing of that, in the same manner. He is not expected to go upon the mizzen topsail yard, as the mizzen topsail is a small sail, and can be reefed by a few men, or by the light hands. In furling sails, the second mate goes aloft to the topsails and courses, and takes the bunt, as that is the most important place in that duty. He is not expected to go upon the mizzen topsail yard for any service, and though in bad weather, and in case of necessity, he would do so, yet it would be out of the usual course. He might also, in heavy weather, assist in furling a large jib, or in taking the bonnet off; but he never furls a topgallantsail, royal, or flying jib. In short, the fore or main topsail and the courses are the only sails which the second mate is expected to handle, either in reefing or furling. And, as I said before, if the sails are reefed or furled by the watch, he leads the starboard watch on the main and maintopsail yards, and the best man in the larboard watch leads them at the fore. Although the proper place for the second mate on a yard, is the bunt in furling, and the weather earing in reefing, and it is the custom to give him a chance at them at first, yet he cannot retain them by virtue of his office; and if he has not the necessary strength or skill for the stations, it is no breach of duty in a seaman to take them from him; on the contrary, he must always expect, in such a case, to give them up to a smarter man. If the second mate is a youngster, as is sometimes the case, being put forward early for the sake of promotion, or if he is not active and ambitious, he will not attempt to take the bunt or weather earing. In the ordinary day's work done on shipboard, the second mate works with his hands like a common seaman. Indeed, he ought to be the best workman on board, and to be able to take upon himself the nicest and most difficult jobs, or to show the men how to do them. Among the various pieces of work constantly going forward on the vessel and rigging, there are some that require more skill and are less disagreeable than others. The assignment of all the work belongs to the chief mate, and if the second mate is a good seaman, (by which sailors generally understand a good workman upon rigging,) he will have the best and most important of these allotted to him; as, for instance, fitting, turning in and setting up rigging, rattling down, and making the neater straps, coverings, graftings, pointings, &c.; but if he is not a good workman, he will have to employ himself upon the inferior jobs, such as are usually assigned to ordinary seamen and boys. Whatever may be his capacity, however, he 'carries on the work,' when his watch alone is on deck, under directions previously received from the chief mate. It is a common saying among seamen that a man does not get his hands out of the tar bucket by becoming second mate. The meaning of this is, that as a great deal of tar is used in working upon rigging, and it is always put on by hand, the second mate is expected to put his hands to it as the others do. If the chief mate were to take hold upon a piece of work, and it should be necessary to put any tar on it, he might call some one to tar it for him, as all labor by hand is voluntary with him; but the second mate would be expected to do it for himself, as a part of his work. These matters, small in themselves, serve to show the different lights in which the duties of the officers are regarded by all sea-faring men. There are, however, some inferior services, such as slushing down masts, sweeping decks, &c., which the second mate takes no part in; and if he were ordered to do so, it would be considered as punishment, and might lead to a difficulty. In working ship, making and taking in sail, &c., the second mate pulls and hauls about decks with the rest of the men. Indeed, in all the work he is expected to join in, he should be the first man to take hold, both leading the men and working himself. In one thing, however, he differs from the seamen; that is, he never takes the helm. Neither master nor mates ever take the wheel, but it is left to the men, who steer the vessel under the direction of the master or officer of the deck. He is also not expected to go aloft to reeve and unreeve rigging, or rig in and out booms, when making or taking in sail, if there are men enough; but, as I have said, under ordinary circumstances, only goes aloft to reef or furl a topsail or course. In case, however, of any accident, as carrying away a mast or yard, or if any unusual work is going on aloft, as the sending up or down of topmasts or topsail yards, or getting rigging over the mast-head, sending down or bending a heavy sail in a gale of wind, or the like, then the second mate should be aloft to take charge of the work there, and to be the organ of communication between the men aloft and the chief mate, who should remain on deck, since he must superintend everything fore and aft, as well as a-low and aloft. Sending up or down royal and topgallant yards, being light work and done by one or two hands, does not call the second mate aloft; but if the topgallant masts are to be sent down, or a jib-boom rigged in bad weather, or any other work going on aloft of unusual importance or difficulty, the second mate should be there with the men, leading them in the work, and communicating with, and receiving the orders from the deck. During his own watch, if the master is not on deck, the second mate commands the ship, gives his orders and sees to their execution, precisely as the chief mate does in his; but, at the same time, he is expected to lend a hand at every "all-hands rope." There is another important part of the duties of a second mate; which is, the care of the spare rigging, blocks, sails, and small stuffs, and of the instruments for working upon rigging, as, marlinspikes, heavers, serving-boards, &c. It is the duty of the chief mate, as superintendent of the work, to see that these are on board, and to provide a constant supply of such as are made at sea; but when provided, it is the second mate's duty to look after them, to see them properly stowed away, and to have them at hand whenever they are called for. If, for instance, the chief mate orders a man to do a piece of work with certain instruments and certain kinds of stuff, the man will go to the second mate for them, and he must supply him. If there is no sailmaker on board, the second mate must also attend to the stowing away of the spare sails, and whenever one is called for, it is his duty to go below and find it. So with blocks, spare rigging, strands of yarns, and any part of a vessel's furniture, which an accident or emergency, as well as the ordinary course of duty, may bring into play. So, also, with the stores. It is his duty to see to the stowing away of the water, bread, beef, pork, and all the provisions of the vessel; and whenever a new cask or barrel of water or provisions is to be opened, the second mate must do it. Indeed, the crew should never be sent into the hold or steerage, or to any part where there is cargo or stores, without an officer. He also measures out the allowance to the men, at the rate ordered by the master. These latter duties, of getting out the stores and weighing or measuring the allowance, fall upon the third mate, if there is one, which is seldom the case in merchant vessels. While in port, when cargo is taking in or discharging, the second mate's place is in the hold; the chief mate standing at the gangway, to keep account, and to have a general supervision. If the vessel is lying at anchor, so that the cargo has to be brought on or off in boats, then the boating duty falls upon the second mate, who goes and comes in the boats, and looks after the landing and taking off of the goods. The chief mate seldom leaves the vessel when in port. The master is necessarily on shore a good deal, and the second mate must come and go in the boats, so that the chief mate is considered as the ship-keeper. So, if a warp or kedge is to be carried out, or a boat is lowered at sea, as in boarding another vessel, or when a man has fallen overboard, in all such cases the second mate should take charge of the boat. When in port, the second mate stands no anchor watch, but is expected to be on deck until eight o'clock, which is the hour at which the watch is usually set. If, however, the ship is short-handed, he would stand his watch; in which case it would probably be either the first or the morning watch. The second mate lives aft, sleeping in the cabin, if there are no passengers, or else in a state room in the steerage. He also eats in the cabin, but at a second table, taking charge of the vessel while the master and chief mate are at their meals. In packet ships the two mates generally eat together, by themselves, at an earlier hour than the master and passengers. THIRD MATE.--Merchant vessels bound on long voyages, upon which there are many vicissitudes to be anticipated, sometimes carry a third mate; but this is unusual; so much so, that his duties have hardly become settled by custom. He does not command a watch, but belongs to the larboard watch, and assists the chief mate in his duties. He goes aloft with the larboard watch to reef and furl, as the second mate does with the starboard, and performs very nearly the same duties aloft and about decks. If he is a good seaman, he will take the earing and bunt on the head yards, as the second mate does on the after yards; and in the allotment of work he will be favored with the most important jobs, if a good workman, otherwise, he will be put upon the work of an ordinary seaman. He is not expected to handle the light sails. He stands no helm, lives aft, and will look out for the vessel at mealtimes, if the second mate dines with the master and chief mate. While in port, he will be in the hold or in the boats, as he may be needed, thus dividing the labor with the second mate. Perhaps his place would more properly be in the boats, as that is considered more in the light of fatigue duty. He also relieves the second mate of the charge of the stores, and sees to the weighing and measuring of the allowances; and in his watch on deck, he relieves the chief mate of the inferior parts of his duty, such as washing decks in the morning, and looking after the boys in clearing up the decks at night. CHAPTER IV. CARPENTER, COOK, STEWARD, &C. CARPENTER.--Working ship. Seaman's work. Helm. Duty aloft. Work at his trade. Station. Berth and mess. Standing watch. SAILMAKER.--Seaman's work. Work at trade. Duty aloft. Standing watch. Berth and mess. Station. STEWARD.--Duty in passenger-ships. Care of cabin-table--passengers. In other vessels--Master--mate. Aloft. About decks. Working ship. COOK.--Berth. Standing watch. Care of galley and furniture. Working ship. Duty aloft. CARPENTER.--Almost every merchant vessel of a large class, or bound upon a long voyage, carries a carpenter. His duty is to work at his trade under the direction of the master, and to assist in all-hands work according to his ability. He is stationed with the larboard or starboard watch, as he may be needed, though, if there is no third mate, usually with the larboard. In working ship, if he is an able seaman, (as well as carpenter,) he will be put in some more important place, as looking after the main tack and bowlines, or working the forecastle with the mate; and if capable of leading his watch aloft, he would naturally take the bunt or an earing. He is not expected to handle the light sails, nor to go above the topsail yards, except upon the work of his trade. If he ships for an able seaman as well as carpenter, he must be capable of doing seaman's work upon the rigging and taking his turn at the wheel, if called upon; though he would not be required to do it except in bad weather, or in case the vessel should be short-handed. If he does not expressly ship for seaman as well as carpenter, no nautical skill can be required of him; but he must still, when all hands are called, or if ordered by the master, pull and haul about decks, and go aloft in the work usual on such occasions, as reefing and furling. But the inferior duties of the crew, as sweeping decks, slushing, tarring, &c., would not be put upon him, nor would he be required to do any strictly seaman's work, except taking a helm in case of necessity, or such work as all hands join in. The carpenter is not an officer, has no command, and cannot give an order even to the smallest boy; yet he is a privileged person. He lives in the steerage, with the steward, has charge of the ship's chest of tools, and in all things connected with his trade, is under the sole direction of the master. The chief mate has no authority over him, in his trade, unless it be in case of the master's absence or disability. In all things pertaining to the working of the vessel, however, and as far as he acts in the capacity of a seaman, he must obey the orders of the officers as implicitly as any of the crew would; though, perhaps, an order from the second mate would come somewhat in the form of a request. Yet there is no doubt that he must obey the second mate in his proper place, as much as he would the master in his. Although he lives in the steerage, he gets his food from the galley, from the same mess with the men in the forecastle, having no better or different fare in any respect; and he has no right on the quarterdeck, but must take his place on the forecastle with the common seamen. In many vessels, during fine weather, upon long voyages, the carpenter stands no watch, but "sleeps in" at night, is called at daylight, and works all day at his trade. But in this case, whenever all hands are called, he must come up with the rest. In bad weather, when he cannot well work at his trade, or if the vessel becomes short-handed, he is put in a watch, and does duty on deck, turning in and out with the rest. In many vessels, especially those bound on short voyages, the carpenter stands his watch, and, while on deck, works at his trade in the day-time, if the weather will permit, and at night, or in bad weather, does watch duty according to his ability. SAILMAKER.--Some ships of the largest class carry a sailmaker, though usually the older seamen are sufficiently skilled in the trade to make and mend sails, and the master or chief mate should know how to cut them out. As to the sailmaker's duty on board, the same remarks will apply to him that were made upon the carpenter. If he ships for seaman as well as sailmaker, he must do an able seaman's duty, if called upon; and if he does not so ship, he will still be required to assist in all-hands work, such as working ship, taking in and making sail, &c., according to his ability; and in bad weather, or a case of necessity, he may be put with a watch and required to do ship's duty with the rest. In all-hands work he is mustered with either watch, according to circumstances, and the station allotted to him will depend upon his qualities as a seaman; and, as with the carpenter, if he is a good seaman, he would naturally have some more important post assigned to him. He is not expected to handle the light sails, nor to go above the topsail yards. Nor would the inferior duties of the crew, such as tarring, slushing, and sweeping decks, be put upon him. In bad weather, or in case of necessity, he may be mustered in a watch, and must do duty as one of the crew, according to his ability. Sometimes he stands no watch, and works at his trade all day, and at others he stands his watch, and when on deck in the day time, and during good weather, works at his trade, and at night, or in bad weather, does duty with the watch. He usually lives in the steerage with the carpenter, and always takes his food from the galley. He has no command, and when on deck, belongs on the forecastle with the rest of the crew. In the work of his trade, he is under the sole direction of the master, or of the chief mate in the master's absence; but in ship's work he is as strictly under the command of the mates, as a common seaman is. STEWARD.--The duties of the steward are very different in packet ships, carrying a large number of passengers, from those which are required of him in other vessels. In the New York _liners_, for instance, he has waiters or under-stewards, who do most of the labor, he himself having the general superintendence of the department. It is his duty to see that the cabin and state-rooms are kept in order; to see to the laying and clearing of the tables; to take care of the dishes, and other furniture belonging to them; to provide the meals, under the master's direction, preparing the nicer dishes himself; to keep the general charge of the pantry and stores for the cabin; to look after the cook in his department; and, lastly, which is as important a part of his duty as any other, to attend to the comfort and convenience of the passengers. These duties, where there are many passengers, require all his time and attention, and he is not called upon for any ship's duty. In vessels which are not passenger-ships, he does the work which falls to the under-stewards of the large packets: cleans the cabin and state rooms, sets, tends and clears away the table, provides everything for the cook, and has charge of the pantry, where all the table furniture and the small stores are kept. He is also the body servant of the master. His relation to the chief mate is somewhat doubtful; but the general understanding is, that, although he waits upon him when at table and must obey him in all matters relating to the ship's work, yet he is not in any respect his servant. If the mate wishes any personal service done, he would ask it, or make some compensation. In these vessels, the steward must come on deck whenever all hands are called, and in working ship, pulls and hauls about decks with the men. The main sheet is called the steward's rope, and this he lets go and hauls aft in tacking and wearing. In reefing and furling, he is expected to go upon the lower and topsail yards, and especially the mizzen topsail yard of a ship. No seamanship is expected of him, and he stands no watch, sleeping in at night and turning out at daylight; yet he must do ship's duty according to his ability when all hands are called for working ship or for taking in or making sail. In these things he must obey the mates in the same way that a common seaman would, and is punishable for disobedience. The amount of ship's duty required of him depends, as I have said, upon the number of passengers. COOK.--The cook almost always lives in the forecastle, though sometimes in the steerage with the steward. He stands no watch, sleeping in at night, and working at his business throughout the day. He spends his time mostly in the cook-house, which is called the 'galley,' where he cooks both for the cabin and forecastle. This, with keeping the galley, boilers, pans, kids, &c., clean and in order, occupies him during the day. He is called with all hands, and in tacking and wearing, works the fore sheet. He is also expected to pull and haul about decks in all-hands work, and is occasionally called from his galley to give a pull at a tackle or halyards. No seamanship can be required of him, but he is usually expected to go upon a lower or topsail yard in reefing or furling, and to assist according to his ability in working ship. In regular passenger-ships, however, as he is more exclusively employed in cooking, he is not required to do any duty about decks, except in a case of necessity or of common danger. In some other vessels, too, if strongly manned, neither the cook nor steward are sent upon the yards. Yet it can, without doubt, be required of them, by the custom and understanding of the service, to go upon a lower or topsail yard to reef or furl. If there are on board armorers, coopers, or persons following any other trades, they take the same place and follow the same rules as to duty that govern the carpenter and sailmaker. In the merchant service, when 'all hands' are called, it literally calls every one on board but the passengers; excepting, as I have said, in the case of the cook and steward of strictly passenger-ships. Those persons of whom any duty can be required, who do not stand a watch, but sleep in at night and work during the day, are called _idlers_. Beside turning out with 'all hands,' the idlers are sometimes called up at night to help the watch on deck in any heavy or difficult duty, when it is not desirable to call the other watch, who may have had severe service. This is allowable, if practised only in cases of necessity, and not carried to an extreme. CHAPTER V. ABLE SEAMEN. Grades of sea-faring persons. Able seamen. Ordinary seamen. Boys. Shipping and rating. Over-rating. Requisites of an able seaman. Hand, reef and steer. Work upon rigging. Sailmaking. Day's work. Working ship. Reefing and furling. Watch duty. Coasters and small vessels. Sea-faring persons before the mast are divided into three classes,--able seamen, ordinary seamen, and boys or green hands. And it may be remarked here that all green hands in the merchant service are termed _boys_, and rated as such, whatever may be their age or size. In the United States navy, an able seaman receives twelve dollars per month, an ordinary seaman ten, and the boys, or green hands, from four to eight, according to their strength and experience. In the merchant service, wages are about the same on long voyages; but on voyages to Europe, the West Indies, and the southern ports, they are considerably higher, and very fluctuating. Still, the same proportion between the classes is preserved, an ordinary seaman getting about two dollars less than an able seaman, and the boys, from nothing up to two dollars less than ordinary seamen, according to circumstances. A full-grown man must ship for boy's wages upon his first voyage. It is not unusual to see a man receiving boy's wages and rated as a boy, who is older and larger than many of the able seamen. The crews are not rated by the officers after they get to sea, but, both in the merchant service and in the navy, each man rates himself when he ships. The shipping articles, in the merchant service, are prepared for so many of each class, and a man puts his name down and contracts for the wages and duty of a seaman, ordinary seaman, or boy, at his pleasure. Notwithstanding this license, there are very few instances of its being abused; for every man knows that if he is found incompetent to perform the duty he contracts for, his wages can not only be reduced to the grade for which he is fitted, but that something additional will be deducted for the deception practised upon all concerned, and for the loss of service and the numerous difficulties incurred, in case the fraud is not discovered until the vessel has got to sea. But, still more than this, the rest of the crew consider it a fraud upon themselves; as they are thus deprived of a man of the class the vessel required, which makes her short-handed for the voyage, and increases the duty put upon themselves. If, for instance, the articles provide for six able seamen, the men expect as many, and if one of the six turns out not to be a seaman, and is put upon inferior work, the duties which would commonly be done by seamen will fall upon the five. The difficulty is felt still more in the watches; as, in the case I have supposed, there would be in one watch only two able seamen instead of three, and if the delinquent was not a capable helmsman, the increased duty at the wheel alone would be, of itself, a serious evil. The officers also feel at liberty to punish a man who has so imposed upon all hands, and accordingly every kind of inferior and disagreeable duty is put upon him; and, as he finds no sympathy from the crew, his situation on board is made very unpleasant. Indeed, there is nothing a man can be guilty of, short of a felony, to which so little mercy is shown on board ship; for it is a deliberate act of deception, and one to which there is no temptation, except the gain of a few dollars. The common saying that to hand, reef and steer makes a sailor, is a mistake. It is true that no man is a sailor until he can do these things; yet to ship for an able seaman he must, in addition to these, be a good workman upon rigging. The rigging of a ship requires constant mending, covering and working upon in a multitude of ways; and whenever any of the ropes or yards are chafing or wearing upon it, it must be protected by 'chafing gear.' This chafing gear consists of worming, parcelling, serving, rounding, &c.; which requires a constant supply of small stuffs, such as foxes, sennit, spunyarn, marline, and the like, all which is made on board from condemned rigging and old junk. There is also a great deal of new rigging to be cut and fitted, on board, which requires neat knots, splices, seizings, coverings, and turnings in. It is also frequently necessary to set up the rigging in one part of the vessel or another; in which case it must be seized or turned in afresh. It is upon labor of this kind that the crew is employed in the 'day's work' and jobs which are constantly carried forward on board. A man's skill in this work is the chief test of his seamanship; a competent knowledge of steering, reefing, furling, and the like, being taken for granted, and being no more than is expected of an ordinary seaman. To put a marlinspike in a man's hand and set him to work upon a piece of rigging, is considered a fair trial of his qualities as an able seaman. There is, of course, a great deal of difference in the skill and neatness of the work of different men; but I believe I am safe in saying that no man will pass for an able seaman in a square-rigged vessel, who cannot make a long and short splice in a large rope, fit a block-strap, pass seizings to lower rigging, and make the ordinary knots, in a fair, workmanlike manner. This working upon rigging is the last thing to which a lad training up to the sea is put, and always supposes a competent acquaintance with all those kinds of work that are required of an ordinary seaman or boy. A seaman is generally expected to be able to sew upon a sail, and few men ship for seamen who cannot do it; yet, if he is competent in other respects, no fault can be found with an able seaman for want of skill in sailmaking. In allotting the jobs among the crew, reference is always had to a man's rate and capacity; and it is considered a decided imputation upon a man to put him upon inferior work. The most difficult jobs, and those requiring the neatest work, will be given to the older and more experienced among the seamen; and of this none will complain; but to single out an able seaman and keep him at turning the spunyarn winch, knotting yarns or picking oakum, while there are boys on board, and other properly seaman's work going forward at the same time, would be looked upon as punishment, unless it were temporarily, or from necessity, or while other seaman were employed in the same manner. Also, in consideration of the superior grade of an able seaman, he is not required to sweep down the decks at night, slush the masts, &c., if there are boys on board and at hand. Not that a seaman is not obliged to do these things. There is no question but that he is, just as much as to do any other ship's work; and if there are no boys on board or at hand at the time, or from any other cause it is reasonably required of him, no good seaman would object, and it would be a refusal of duty to do so, yet if an officer were deliberately, and without necessity for it, when there were boys about decks at the time, who could do the work as well, to order an able seaman to leave his work and sweep down the decks, or slush a mast, it would be considered as punishment. In working ship, the able seamen are stationed variously; though, for the most part, upon the forecastle, at the main tack or fore and main lower and topsail braces; the light hands being placed at the cross-jack and fore and main topgallant and royal braces. In taking in and making sail, and in all things connected with the working of a ship, there is no duty which may not be required of an able seaman; yet there are certain things requiring more skill or strength, to which he is always put, and others which are as invariably assigned to ordinary seamen and boys. In reefing, the men go out to the yard-arms, and the light hands stand in toward the slings; while in furling, the bunt and quarters belong to the able seamen, and the yard-arms to the boys. The light hands are expected to loose and furl the light sails, as royals, flying jib and mizzen topgallant sail, and the men seldom go above the cross-trees, except to work upon the rigging, or to send a mast or yard up or down. The fore and main topgallant sails, and sometimes the flying jib of large vessels, require one or more able seamen for furling, but are loosed by light hands. In short, as to everything connected with working ship, making and taking in sail, &c., one general rule may be laid down. A seaman is obliged to obey the order of the master or officer, asking no questions and making no objection, whether the duty to which he is ordered be that which properly belongs to an able seaman or not; yet as able seamen alone can do the more nice and difficult work, the light hands, in their turn, are expected to do that which requires less skill and strength. In the watch on deck at night, for instance, the able and ordinary seamen steer the ship, and are depended upon in case of any accident, or if heavy sails are to be taken in or set, or ropes to be knotted or spliced; and in consideration of this, if there is light work to be done, as coiling up rigging about decks, holding the log-reel, loosing or furling a light sail, or the like, the boys are expected to do it, and should properly be called upon by the officer, unless from some circumstance it should be necessary to call upon a man. Yet, as I have said before, if ordered, the seaman must do the thing, under any circumstances, and a refusal would be a refusal of his duty. No man is entitled to the rate or wages of an able seaman, who is not a good helmsman. There is always a difference in a ship's company as to this duty, some men being more steady, careful, and expert helmsmen than others; and the best quality cannot be required of every able seaman; yet if, upon fair trial, in bad weather, a man is found incapable of steering the ship, under circumstances not extraordinary, he would be considered by all on board to have failed of his duty. It should be remembered, however, that there are times when the very best helmsman is hardly able to steer a ship, and if a vessel is out of trim or slow in her motions, no skill can keep her close to her course. An able seaman is also expected to do all the work necessary for reefing, furling, and setting sail, to be able to take a bunt or earing, to send yards and masts up and down, to rig in and out booms, to know how to reeve all the running rigging of a ship, and to steer, or pull an oar in a boat. The standard of seamanship, however, is not so high in coasting vessels and those of a smaller class bound upon short voyages, in which all the work that is necessary upon the vessel or rigging is usually done when in port by people hired from on shore. In such vessels many men ship for able seamen, and are considered, upon the whole, competent, if they are able-bodied, and can hand, reef, and steer, who perhaps would only have shipped for ordinary seamen in vessels bound upon long voyages. In all large class vessels, and in vessels of almost any class bound upon long voyages, the standard of seamanship is very nearly what I have before described. CHAPTER VI. ORDINARY SEAMEN. Requisites. Hand, reef, and steer. Loose, furl, and set sails. Reeve rigging. Work upon rigging. Watch duty. An ordinary seaman is one who, from not being of sufficient age and strength, or from want of sufficient experience, is not quite competent to perform all the duties of an able seaman, and accordingly receives a little less than full wages, and does not contract for the complete qualities of an able seaman. There is a large proportion of ordinary seamen in the navy. This is probably because the power of the officers is so great upon their long cruises to detect and punish any deficiency, and because, if a man can by any means be made to appear wanting in capacity for the duty he has shipped to perform, it will justify a great deal of hard usage. Men, therefore, prefer rather to underrate than to run any risk of overrating themselves. An ordinary seaman is expected to hand, reef, and steer, under common circumstances, (which includes 'boxing the compass;') to be well acquainted with all the running and standing rigging of a ship; to be able to reeve all the studdingsail gear, and set a topgallant or royal studdingsail out of the top; to loose and furl a royal, and a small topgallant sail or flying jib; and perhaps, also, to send down or cross a royal yard. An ordinary seaman need not be a complete helmsman, and if an able seaman should be put in his place at the wheel in very bad weather, or when the ship steered with difficulty, it would be no imputation upon him, provided he could steer his trick creditably under ordinary circumstances. In reefing or furling the courses and topsails, an ordinary seaman would not take the bunt or an earing, if there were able seamen on the yard; and perhaps, in the largest sized vessels, it would not be expected of him to pass an earing, or make up the bunt of a fore or main topsail or course in bad weather, yet he should know how to do both, and should be able to take a bunt or earing on the mizzen topsail yard, and on any topsail or lower yard of a small vessel. It is commonly understood that an ordinary seaman need not be a workman upon rigging. Yet there are probably few men capable of performing the duties of an ordinary seaman, as above detailed, who would not be somewhat acquainted with work upon rigging, and who could not do the simpler parts of it, such as, serving and splicing small ropes, passing a common seizing, or the like; and it is always expected that an ordinary seaman shall be able to make all the hitches, bends, and knots in common use: such as, two half-hitches, a rolling hitch, timber hitch, clove hitch, common bend, and bowline knot. He would also be thought deficient if he could not draw, knot, and ball up yarns, and make spunyarn, foxes, and common sennit. Yet it is said that if he can steer his trick, and do his duty creditably in working ship and taking in and making sail, he is entitled to the rate and wages of an ordinary seaman, though he cannot handle a marlinspike or serving-board. The duty upon which an ordinary seaman is put, depends a good deal upon whether there are boys or green hands on board or not. If there are, he has a preference over them, as an able seaman has over him, in the light work; and since he stands his helm regularly and is occasionally set to work upon rigging with the men, he will be favored accordingly in the watch and in common duty about decks. Yet the distinction between ordinary seamen and boys is not very carefully observed in the merchant service, and an ordinary seaman is frequently called upon for boy's duty, though there are boys on board and at hand. If an officer wished for some one to loose a royal, take a broom and sweep the decks, hold the log-reel, coil up a rope, or the like, he would probably first call upon a boy, if at hand; if not, upon an ordinary seaman; but upon either of them indifferently, before an able seaman. If there are no boys on board, the ordinary seamen do boy's duty; the only difference being, that if they take their trick at the wheel, and do other ordinary seaman's work, the able seamen are not so much preferred over them, as over mere boys and green hands. CHAPTER VII. BOYS. Requisites. Wages. Watch. Day's work. Working ship. Helm. Duties aloft and about decks. Boy is the term, as I have said before, for all green hands, whatever may be their size or age; and also for boys, who, though they have been at sea before, are not large and strong enough for ordinary seamen. It is the common saying, that a boy does not ship to know anything. Accordingly, if any person ships as a boy, and upon boy's wages, no fault can be found with him, though he should not know the name of a rope in the ship, or even the stem from the stern. In the navy, the boys are divided into three classes, according to their size and experience, and different duties are put upon them. In the merchant service, all except able and ordinary seamen are generally upon the same wages, though boys' wages vary in different voyages. Sometimes they get nothing, being considered as apprentices; and from that they rise to three, five, and sometimes eight dollars per month. Whatever boys' wages may be, a person who ships for them for that voyage, whether more or less, is rated as boy, and his duty is according to his rate. In the ordinary day's work, the boys are taught to draw and knot yarns, make spunyarn, foxes, sennit, &c., and are employed in passing a ball or otherwise assisting the able seamen in their jobs. Slushing masts, sweeping and clearing up decks, holding the log-reel, coiling up rigging, and loosing and furling the light sails, are duties that are invariably put upon the boys or green hands. They stand their watches like the rest, are called with all hands, go aloft to reef and furl, and work whenever and wherever the men do, the only difference being in the kind of work upon which they are put. In reefing, the boys lay in toward the slings of the yard, and in furling, they go out to the yard-arms. They are sent aloft immediately, as soon as they get to sea, to accustom them to the motion of a vessel, and to moving about in the rigging and on the yards. Loosing and furling the royals, setting topgallant studdingsails and reeving the gear, shaking out reefs, learning the names and uses of all the ropes, and to make the common hitches, bends, and knots, reeving all the studdingsail gear, and rigging in and out booms, and the like, is the knowledge first instilled into beginners. There is a good deal of difference in the manner in which boys are put forward in different vessels. Sometimes, in large vessels, where there are plenty of men, the boys never take the wheel at all, and are seldom put upon any but the most simple and inferior duties. In others, they are allowed to take the wheel in light winds, and gradually, if they are of sufficient age and strength, become regular helmsmen. So, also, in their duties aloft; if they are favored, they may be kept at the royals and topgallant sails, and gradually come to the earing of a mizzen topsail. In work upon rigging, however, a green hand makes but little progress beyond ropeyarns and spunyarn, during his first voyage; since there are men enough to do the jobs, and he can be employed to more advantage in the inferior work, and in making and taking in light sails, steering in light winds, &c.; a competent knowledge of which duty is sufficient to enable him to ship for an ordinary seaman upon the next voyage. It is generally while in the grade of ordinary seaman that the use of the marlinspike is learned. Whatever knowledge a boy may have acquired, or whatever may be his age or strength, so long as he is rated as a boy, (and the rates are not changed during a voyage unless a person changes his ship,) he must do the inferior duties of a boy. If decks are to be cleared up or swept, rigging to be coiled up, a man is to be helped in his job, or any duty to be done aloft or about decks which does not require the strength or skill of a seaman, a boy is always expected to start first and do it, though not called upon by name. CHAPTER VIII. MISCELLANEOUS. Watches. Calling the watch. Bells. Helm. Answering. Stations. Food. Sleep. WATCHES.--A watch is a term both for a division of the crew, and for the period of time allotted to such division. The crew are divided into two watches, larboard and starboard; the larboard commanded by the chief mate, and the starboard by the second mate. These watches divide the time between them, being on and off duty, or, as it is termed, on deck and below, every other four hours. If, for instance, the chief mate with the larboard watch have the first night watch, from eight to twelve, at the end of the four hours the starboard watch is called, and the second mate takes the deck, while the larboard watch and the chief mate go below until four in the morning. At four they come on deck again, and remain until eight; having what is called the 'morning watch.' As they will have been on deck eight hours out of the twelve, while the starboard watch, who had the middle watch, from twelve to four, will only have been up four hours, they are entitled to the watch below from eight till twelve, which is called the 'forenoon watch below.' Where this alternation of watches is kept up throughout the twenty-four hours, four hours up and four below it is called having "watch and watch." This is always given in bad weather, and when day's work cannot be carried on; but in most merchant vessels, it is the custom to keep all hands from one P.M. until sundown, or until four o'clock. In extreme cases, also, all hands are kept throughout the day; but the watch which has had eight hours on deck at night should always be allowed a forenoon watch below, if possible. The watch from four to eight, P.M., is divided into two half-watches of two hours each, called _dog-watches_. The object of this is to make an uneven number of watches, seven instead of six; otherwise the same watch would stand during the same hours for the whole voyage, and those who had two watches on deck the first night would have the same throughout the trip. But the uneven number shifts the watches. The dog-watches coming about sundown, or twilight, and between the end of a day's work and the setting of the night watch, are usually the time given for recreation,--for smoking, telling yarns, &c., on the forecastle; things which are not allowed during the day. CALLING THE WATCH.--As soon as eight bells are struck, the officer of the watch gives orders to call the watch, and one of the crew goes to the scuttle, knocks three times, and calls out in a loud voice, "All the starboard (or larboard) watch, ahoy!" or, "All starbowlines, ahoy!" or something of the kind, and adds, "Eight bells," or the hour; usually, also, a question, to know whether he is heard, as, "Do you hear the news there, sleepers?" Some one of the watch below must answer, "Ay, ay!" to show that the call has been heard. The watch below is entitled to be called in a loud and audible voice, and in the usual manner; and unless called, they cannot be expected to come up. They must also turn out at once and come on deck as soon as they are called, in order that the other watch may go below, especially as they are never called until the hour has expired, and since some minutes are allowed for turning out, dressing, and getting on deck. The man whose turn it is to take the helm goes immediately aft, and ought to be the first on deck, as the two hours' duty at the helm at night is tedious, and entitles a man to be speedily relieved. It is considered a bad trait in a man to be slack in relieving the helm. The relieving the helm is also the sign that the watch is changed, and no man is permitted to go below until that has been done. It is a man's watch on deck so long as one of his watch is at the wheel. BELLS.--The time at sea is marked by bells. At noon, eight bells are struck, that is, eight strokes are made upon the bell; and from that time it is struck every half-hour throughout the twenty-four, beginning at one stroke and going as high as eight, adding one at each half-hour. For instance, twelve o'clock is eight bells, half past twelve is one bell, one o'clock is two bells, half past one three bells, and so on until four o'clock, which will be eight bells. The watch is then out, and for half past four you strike one bell again. A watch of four hours therefore runs out the bells. It will be observed, also, that even bells come at the full hours, and the odd bells at the half-hours. For instance, eight bells is always twelve, four, or eight o'clock; and seven bells always half past three, half past seven, or half past eleven. The bells are sounded by two strokes following one another quickly, and then a short interval; after which, two more; and so on. If it is an odd number, the odd one is struck alone, after the interval. This is to make the counting more sure and easy; and, by this means, you can, at least, tell whether it is an hour or a half-hour. HELM. Neither the master nor mates of a merchant vessel ever take the helm. The proper helmsmen are the able and ordinary seamen. Sometimes the carpenter, sailmaker, &c., if they are seamen, are put at the helm; also the boys, in light winds, for practice. Each watch steers the ship in its turn, and the watch on deck must supply the helmsman, even when all hands are called. Each man stands at the helm two hours, which is called his _trick_. Thus, there are two tricks in a watch. Sometimes, in very cold weather, the tricks are reduced to one hour; and, if the ship steers badly, in a gale of wind, two men are sent to the wheel at once. In this case, the man who stands on the weather side of the wheel is the responsible helmsman, the man at the lee wheel merely assisting him by heaving the wheel when necessary. The men in the watch usually arrange their tricks among themselves, the officers being satisfied if there is always a man ready to take the wheel at the proper time. In steering, the helmsman stands on the weather side of a wheel and on the lee side of a tiller. But when steering by tiller-ropes with no hitch round the tiller-head, or with a tackle, as in a heavy gale and bad sea, when it is necessary to ease the helm a good deal, it is better to stand up to windward and steer by the parts of the tackle or tiller-ropes. In relieving the wheel, the man should come aft on the lee side of the quarter-deck, (as indeed he always should unless his duty lies to windward,) go to the wheel behind the helmsman and take hold of the spokes, so as to have the wheel in command when the other lets go. Before letting go, the helmsman should give the course to the man that relieves him in an audible voice, and the new man should repeat it aloud just as it was given, so as to make it sure that he has heard correctly. This is especially necessary, since the points and half points are so much alike that a mistake might easily be made. It is the duty of the officer of the watch to be present when the wheel is relieved, in order to see that the course is correctly reported and understood; which is another reason why the course should be spoken by both in a loud tone. It is unseamanlike and reprehensible to answer, "Ay, ay!" or, "I understand," or the like, instead of repeating the course. If a vessel is sailing close-hauled and does not lay her course, the order is, "Full and by!" which means, by the wind, yet all full. If a vessel lays her course, the order then is her course, as N.W. by W., E. by S., and the like. When a man is at the wheel, he has nothing else to attend to but steering the ship, and no conversation should be allowed with him. If he wishes to be relieved during his trick, it should not be done without the permission of the officer, and the same form of giving and repeating the course should be gone through, though he is to be absent from the helm but a minute or two. If an order is given to the man at the wheel as to his steering, he should always repeat the order, distinctly, that the officer may be sure he is understood. For instance, if the order is a new course, or, "Keep her off a point!" "Luff a little!" "Ease her!" "Meet her!" or the like, the man should answer by repeating the course or the order, as, "Luff a little, sir," "Meet her, sir," &c., and should not answer, "Ay, ay, sir!" or simply execute the order as he understands it. This practice of repeating every, even the most minute order at the wheel, is well understood among seamen, and a failure or refusal to do so is an offence sometimes leading to disagreeable results. If, when the watch is out and the other watch has been called, all hands are detained for any purpose, as, to reef a topsail, to set studdingsails, or the like, the helm should not be relieved until the work is done and the watch ready to go below. ANSWERING.--The rule has just been stated which requires a man at the wheel to answer by repeating distinctly the order given him. The same rule applies to some other parts of a seaman's duty, though to none so strictly, perhaps, as to that. In tacking, where the moment of letting go a rope or swinging a yard is very important, the order of the master is always repeated by the officer on the forecastle. This enables the master to know whether he is heard and understood, to repeat his order if it is not answered at once, and to correct any mistake, or obviate some of its consequences. The same may be said generally of every order to the proper or instant execution of which unusual importance is attached. If, for instance, a man is stationed by a rope to let it go upon an order given, if an order is addressed to him which he supposes to be for that purpose, he should answer, "Let go, sir!" and usually adds, "All gone!" as soon as it is done. Green hands should bear in mind that whenever an order is of a kind which ought to be repeated, it must be so, without reference to a man's distance from the officer who gives the order, but just as much if standing a few feet from him as if at the mast-head, since, upon the whole, the chance of misapprehension is not much less in one case than in the other. The common run of orders, however, are sufficiently answered by the usual reply of "Ay, ay, sir!" which is the proper seaman's answer, where the repetition of the order is not necessary. But _some answer or other should always be made to an order_. This is a rule difficult to impress upon beginners, but the reasonableness of it is obvious, and it is well understood among all seafaring persons; and even though an officer should see that the man was executing his order, he still would require, and has a right to demand a reply. The rule is as strictly observed by the master and officers between themselves, as it is required by them of the men; for the reason is the same. It is almost unnecessary to say that the addition 'Sir' is always to be used in speaking to the master or to either of the mates. The mates in their turn use it to the master. 'Mr.' is always to be prefixed to the name of an officer, whether chief or second mate. In well-disciplined vessels, no conversation is allowed among the men when they are employed at their work; that is to say, it is not allowed in the presence of an officer or of the master; and although, when two or more men are together aloft, or by themselves on deck, a little low conversation might not be noticed, yet if it seemed to take off their attention, or to attract the attention of others, it would be considered a misdemeanor. In this respect the practice is different in different vessels. Coasters, fishermen, or small vessels on short voyages, do not preserve the same rule; but no seaman who has been accustomed to first class ships will object to a strictness as to conversations and laughing, while at day's work, very nearly as great as is observed in a school. While the crew are below in the forecastle, great license is given them; and the severest officer will never interfere with the noise and sport of the forecastle, unless it is a serious inconvenience to those who are on deck. In working ship, when the men are at their stations, the same silence and decorum is observed. But during the dog-watches, and when the men are together on the forecastle at night, and no work is going forward, smoking, singing, telling yarns, &c., are allowed; and, in fact, a considerable degree of noise and _skylarking_ is permitted, unless it amounts to positive disorder and disturbance. It is a good rule to enforce, that whenever a man aloft wishes anything to be done on deck, he shall hail the officer of the deck, and not call out, as is often done, to any one whom he may see about decks, or generally to have a thing done by whoever may happen to hear him. By enforcing this rule the officer knows what is requested, and may order it and see that it is done as he thinks fit; whereas, otherwise, any one about decks, perhaps a green hand, may execute the order upon his own judgment and after his own manner. STATIONS.--The proper place for the seamen when they are on deck and there is no work going forward, is on the forecastle. By this is understood so much of the upper deck as is forward of the after fore-shroud. The men do not leave this to go aft or aloft unless ship's duty requires it of them. In working ship, they are stationed variously, and go wherever there is work to be done. The same is the case in working upon rigging. But if a man goes aft to take the wheel, or for any other purpose which does not require him to go to windward, he will go on the lee side of the quarter-deck. FOOD, SLEEP, &C.--The crew eat together in the forecastle, or on deck, if they choose, in fine weather. Their food is cooked at the galley, and they are expected to go to the galley for it and take it below or upon the forecastle. The cook puts the eatables into wooden tubs called "kids," and of these there are more or less, according to the number of men. The tea or coffee is served out to each man in his tin pot, which he brings to the galley. There is no table, and no knives nor forks to the forecastle; but each man helps himself, and furnishes his own eating utensils. These are usually a tin pot and pan, with an iron spoon. The usual time for breakfast is seven bells, that is, half past seven o'clock in the morning. Consequently, the watch below is called at seven bells, that they may get breakfast and be ready to take the deck at eight o'clock. Sometimes all hands get breakfast together at seven bells; but in bad weather, or if watch and watch is given, it is usual for the watch below to breakfast at seven bells, and the watch on deck at eight bells, after they are relieved. The dinner hour is twelve o'clock, if all hands get dinner together. If dinner is got 'by the watch,' the watch below is called for dinner at seven bells (half past eleven,) and the other watch dine when they go below, at twelve. If all hands are kept in the afternoon, or if both watches get supper together, the usual hour is three bells, or half past five; but if supper is got by the watch, three bells is the time for one watch and four for the other. In bad weather, each watch takes its meals during the watch below, as, otherwise, the men would be liable to be called up from their meals at any moment. As to the time allowed for SLEEP; it may be said, generally, that a sailor's watch below is at his own disposal to do what he chooses in, except, of course, when all hands are called. The meal times, and time for washing, mending, reading, writing, &c., must all come out of the watch below; since, whether there is work going forward or not, a man is considered as belonging to the ship in his watch on deck. At night, however, especially if watch and watch is not given, it is the custom in most merchant vessels, in good weather, to allow the watch to take naps about the decks, provided one of them keeps a look-out, and the rest are so that they can be called instantly. This privilege is rather a thing winked at than expressly allowed, and if the man who has the look-out falls asleep, or if the rest are slow in mustering at a call, they are all obliged to keep awake. In bad weather, also, or if near land, or in the track of other vessels, this privilege should not be granted. The men in each watch usually arrange the helms and look-outs among themselves, so that a man need not have a helm and a look-out during the same watch. A man should never go below during his watch on deck, without permission; and if he merely steps down into the forecastle for an instant, as, to get his jacket, he should tell some one, who may speak to him at once, if the watch is called upon. PART III. LAWS RELATING TO THE PRACTICAL DUTIES OF MASTER AND MARINERS. CHAPTER I. THE VESSEL. Title. Bill of sale. Registry. Enrolment. License. Documents. Certificate. Passport. Sea-letter. List of crew. Bill of health. General clearance. Clearing manifest. Invoice. Bill of lading. Charter-party. Log-book. Manifest. List of passengers and crew. Remaining sea-stores. Medicine-chest. Provisions. TITLE.--The bill of sale is the proper evidence of title to all vessels. It is the instrument of transfer which is used in all maritime countries, which courts of law look to for proof of title, and which is in most cases absolutely required.[6] [6] 5 Rob. Ad. 155. 1 Mason, 139; 2 do. 435; 4 do. 390. 16 Mass. 336. 7 Johns. 308. But see 8 Pick. 89. 16 Mass. 663. Possession of the vessel should also accompany the bill of sale, whenever it is practicable. If the bill of sale is transferred while the vessel is at sea, possession should be taken immediately upon her arrival in port. The fact of the bill of sale being with one person and the actual possession of the vessel with another, after there has been an opportunity to transfer it, will raise a presumption of fraud, and make the parties liable to losses and difficulties in dealing with creditors, and such as purchase in good faith.[7] [7] 4 Mass. 663. 4 Mason, 183. 9 Pick. 4. 6 Mass. 422; 15 do. 477; 18 do. 389. REGISTRY, ENROLMENT, AND LICENSE.--The laws of the United States have given many privileges to vessels built, owned and commanded by our own citizens. Such vessels are entitled to be registered, enrolled or licensed, according to circumstances, and are thereupon considered "vessels of the United States, entitled to the benefits and privileges appertaining to such ships." The only vessels entitled to a register are those built in the United States and owned wholly by citizens thereof; vessels captured in war by our citizens, and condemned as prizes; and vessels adjudged to be forfeited for breach of the laws of the United States, being wholly owned by such citizens. No owner is compelled to register his vessel, but unless registered (with the exception of those enrolled and licensed in the coasting and fishing trades) she is not entitled to the privileges and benefits of a "vessel of the United States," although she be built, owned and commanded by citizens thereof.[8] [8] Act 1792, ch. 45, §1. Vessels employed wholly in the whale-fishery, owned by an incorporated company, may be registered, so long as they shall be wholly employed therein.[9] If not so owned and registered, they must be enrolled and licensed.[10] [9] Act 1831, ch. 350, §1. [10] 3 Sumner, 342. 2 Law Rep. 146 contra. The name of every registered vessel, and the port to which she belongs, must be painted on her stern, on a black ground, in white letters, of not less than three inches in length. And if any registered vessel is found without her name and the name of her port so painted, the owners thereof forfeit fifty dollars.[11] [11] Act 1792, ch. 45, §3. In order to the obtaining of a register, oath must be made that the master is a citizen of the United States.[12] If the master of a registered vessel is changed, or if the vessel's name is altered, such fact must be endorsed upon the register at the custom-house, otherwise she will cease to be considered a vessel of the United States.[13] [12] Do. §4, §12. [13] Act 1792, ch. 45, §23. If any certificate of registry is fraudulently or knowingly used for any ship or vessel not at the time entitled to it, such ship or vessel, with her tackle, apparel and furniture, shall be forfeited to the United States.[14] If an enrolled or licensed vessel is about to proceed on a foreign voyage, she must surrender her enrolment and license, and take out a register, or she, together with her cargo, will be liable to forfeiture.[15] In case of the loss of a register, the master may make oath to the fact, and obtain a new one. [14] Do. §27. [15] Act 1793, ch. 52, §8. All vessels engaged in the coasting and fishing trades, above twenty tons' burden, in order to be entitled to the privileges of vessels of the United States in those trades, must be enrolled and licensed; and if less than twenty tons, must be licensed.[16] The same qualifications and requisites in all respects are demanded in order to the enrolling and licensing of a vessel, which are required for registering.[17] The name must be painted on the stern in the same manner, under penalty of $20.[18] [16] Do. §1. [17] Do. §2. [18] Do. §11. If any vessel licensed for the fisheries engages in any other business not expressly allowed by the license, she is forfeited.[19] Vessels, however, licensed for the mackerel trade are not forfeited in consequence of having been engaged in catching cod, or other fish; but they are not entitled to the bounty allowed to vessels in the cod fisheries.[20] The officers and at least three fourths of the crew of every fishing vessel must be American citizens, or they can recover none of the bounties.[21] [19] Act 1793, ch. 52, §32. [20] Acts 1828, ch. 119, §1, and 1836, ch. 55, §1. [21] Act 1817, ch. 204, §3. DOCUMENTS.--Every registered vessel should have a _certificate of registry_.[22] This is an abstract of the record of registry, showing the names and residences of the owners, the place where the vessel was built, with a particular description of the vessel. This document shows the national character of the vessel, and is important to prove neutrality in time of war between other powers. For the same reasons, an enrolled vessel should have a _certificate of enrolment_.[23] Vessels bound to Europe should have _passports_. A passport is a permission from the government for the vessel to go upon her voyage, and contains a description of the vessel, crew, &c., and the name of the master. Vessels bound round Cape Horn or the Cape of Good Hope should have _sea-letters_. These contain a description of the cargo, &c., and are written in four languages--English, French, Dutch and Spanish. The two latter documents are rendered necessary or expedient by reason of treaties with foreign powers. Every vessel should have a _list of crew_. This specifies the name, age, place of birth and residence, &c., of each one of the ship's company; and is, of course, very useful when sailing among belligerents. The other documents are the _bill of health_, _general clearance_, _clearing manifest_, _invoice_ and _bill of lading_ for the cargo, _charter-party_, if one has been given, and the _log-book_. On entering at the custom-house, the papers required in addition to these are the _manifest_, _list of passengers_ and _crew_, and of _remaining sea-stores_. [22] Act 1792, ch. 45. [23] Act 1793, ch. 52. MEDICINE-CHEST.--Every vessel belonging to citizens of the United States, of the burden of one hundred and fifty tons or upwards, navigated by ten or more persons in the whole, and bound on a foreign voyage, must be provided with a medicine-chest, put up by some apothecary of known reputation, and accompanied by directions for using the same. This chest must be examined and refitted by the same or some other apothecary at least once in a year.[24] The same rule applies to vessels of seventy-five tons and upwards, navigated by six persons in the whole, and bound to the West Indies.[25] [24] Act 1790, ch. 56, §8. [25] Act 1805, ch. 88, §1. NATIONAL CHARACTER OF CREW.--In order to be placed upon the most favorable footing as to duties, bounties, &c., it is necessary that the master, officers, and two thirds of the rest of the crew of vessels in the foreign trade, and officers and three fourths of the crew of fishing and coasting vessels, should be citizens, or "persons not the subjects of any foreign prince or state."[26] Nevertheless, while foreigners are employed in our vessels, they are under the protection of our laws as "mariners and seamen of the United States."[27] [26] Act 1817, ch. 204, §3, 5, 6. [27] 3 Sumner, 115. PROVISIONS.--Every vessel of the United States bound on a voyage across the Atlantic, shall, at the time of leaving the last port from which she sails, have on board, well secured under deck, at least sixty gallons of water, one hundred pounds of salted beef, and one hundred pounds of wholesome ship bread, for every person on board, (over and above any stores that the master or passengers may have put on board;) and in like proportions for shorter or longer voyages. If any vessel is not so provided, and the crew are put upon short allowance of bread, flesh or water, they can recover an additional day's wages for every day they are so allowanced.[28] [28] Act 1790, ch. 56, §9. PASSENGERS.--The same provision, with the addition of one gallon of vinegar, must be made for every passenger; and if, in default of these, the passengers are put on short allowance, each passenger can recover three dollars for every day he is so allowanced.[29] [29] Act 1819, ch. 170, §3. If any vessel takes on board a greater number of passengers than two for every five tons, custom-house measurement, the master forfeits $150 for every such passenger; and if the number by which they exceed two for every five tons shall amount to twenty, the vessel becomes forfeited.[30] [30] Do. §1, 2. CHAPTER II. THE MASTER'S RELATION TO VESSEL AND CARGO. Revenue duties and obligations. List of crew. Certificate. Sea letter. Passport. List of passengers. Manifest. Sea stores. Unloading. Post-office. Report. Citizenship. Coasting license. Power to sell and hypothecate. Keeping and delivering cargo. Deviation. Collision. Pilot. Wages and advances. REVENUE DUTIES AND OBLIGATIONS.--The master of every vessel bound on a foreign voyage, before clearance, must give to the collector of the customs a list of the crew, specifying their names, places of birth and residence, and containing a description of their persons; whereupon he is entitled to a certified copy of the same from the collector. This copy he must deliver, under a penalty of $400, to the first boarding officer upon his arrival in the United States, and produce the persons named therein, unless the same have been discharged in a foreign country, with the consent of the consul or other commercial agent thereto certified in writing under his hand and official seal; or by showing that they have died or absconded, or been impressed into foreign service.[31] The duplicate list of the crew shall be a fair copy, in one uniform handwriting, without erasure or interlineation.[32] [31] Act 1803, ch. 62, §1. [32] Act 1840, ch. 28, §1. The owners must also obtain from the collector of the customs a certified copy of the shipping articles. This must be produced by the master before any consul or commercial agent who may demand it, and all erasures in it or writings in a different hand shall be deemed fraudulent, unless satisfactorily explained.[33] [33] Do. The master of every vessel of the United States, on arriving at a foreign port, must deposit with the consul, or other commercial agent, his certificate of registry, sea letter, and passport (if he have one,) under a penalty of $500. The consul returns them to him, upon his obtaining a clearance.[34] [34] Act 1803, ch. 62, §2. Upon arriving in the United States, the master must report to the collector a list of passengers, specifying their names, age, sex, occupation, the country of which they are citizens, and that in which they intend to reside. This is under a penalty of $500.[35] [35] Act 1819, ch. 170, §4. Vessels arriving from foreign ports must unlade and deliver their cargoes between sunrise and sunset, unless by special permission of the collector of the port. In making out manifests of cargoes, the master must specify what articles are to be deemed _sea stores_, and declare the same upon oath. If the collector deems the amount excessive, he may charge them with a duty. If the cargo is found to exceed the manifest, the excess is forfeited to the government, and the master is liable to pay treble the amount.[36] [36] Act 1799, ch. 128, §45. If the master land any of the _sea stores_, without first obtaining a permit, such stores are forfeited, and the master becomes liable to pay treble the value of them.[37] [37] Act 1799, ch. 128, §45. The master subjects himself to a fine of $200 if the vessel departs on a foreign voyage without a _passport_. It is the duty of the master, coming from a foreign port, to have a _manifest_ of cargo and a copy of the same made out and ready for delivery to any officer of the customs who may board the vessel within four leagues of the coast.[38] Unless this manifest is produced, no merchandise can be unloaded from the vessel. The manifest shall specify the port where the merchandise was received, the port to which it is consigned, the name, build and description of the vessel, with the name of the master and owner, the marks and numbers of each package of goods, with the name of the consignee; and also the names of the passengers with their baggage, and the account of all remaining sea stores.[39] [38] Do. §23. [39] Act 1819, ch. 170, §4. If any goods are unladed within four leagues of the coast, or within the limits of any district, without authority from the proper officer, except in case of accident or necessity--which must be strictly proved--such goods are forfeited, and the master and mate incur, respectively, a penalty of $1000 for each offence.[40] [40] Act 1799, ch. 128, §27. If the master refuses to exhibit his manifest and deliver a copy of the same to the boarding officer, or to inform him of the true destination of the vessel, he incurs a penalty of $500 for each offence.[41] [41] Do. §26. The master must deposit all his letters in the post-office before entering his cargo; and if he shall break bulk before depositing his letters, he forfeits $100 for each offence.[42] [42] Act 1825, ch. 275, §17. If any merchandise is imported into the United States not contained in the manifest, the master of the vessel forfeits a sum equal to the value of such merchandise; and if any of it belongs or is consigned to the master, or to any officer or seaman on board, it becomes forfeited; unless it shall be made to appear that the omission occurred by accident or mistake.[43] [43] Act 1799, ch. 128, §24. The master of a vessel arriving from a foreign port must report himself to the collector within twenty-four hours, and within forty-eight hours he must make a further and more particular report, in writing, under penalty of $100; and if he shall attempt to leave the port without entry he forfeits $400.[44] [44] Do. §30. If any articles reported in the manifest are not found on board, the master forfeits $500, unless it shall be made to appear that the same was caused by accident or mistake. The master of every vessel bound on a foreign voyage must deliver a manifest of cargo to the collector, and obtain a clearance, under penalty of $500.[45] [45] Do. §3. The master of every vessel enrolled and licensed in the coasting trade must be a citizen of the United States; and if the vessel trades to any other than an adjoining state, three fourths of the crew must be citizens. If the master of a coasting vessel is changed, such change must be reported to the collector of the port where the change is made.[46] [46] Act 1793, ch. 52, §12. The master of every coasting vessel must deliver up his license within three days after it expired, or, if the vessel was then at sea, within three days after her first arrival thereafter, under a penalty of $50. The master of a coasting vessel departing from one great district to another, must deliver to the collector duplicate manifests of all the cargo on board, under penalty of $50; and within forty-eight hours after his arrival at the port of delivery, and before breaking bulk, he must deliver to the collector the manifest certified to by the collector of the former port, under penalty of $100.[47] If the vessel shall at any time be found without a manifest on board, the master forfeits $20, and if he refuses to inform the officer of his last port of departure, he forfeits $100.[48] [47] Do. §17. [48] Do. §18. POWER TO SELL AND HYPOTHECATE.--The master has, in certain cases, power to hypothecate the ship and cargo, and also to sell a part of the cargo; and in certain extreme cases a sale of the ship and cargo, made from necessity, and in the utmost good faith, will be upheld. His right to do any of these acts is confined to cases of necessity, in distant ports, where he cannot get the advice of the owner. The safest rule for the master is, to bear in mind that his duty is to _prosecute the voyage_, and that all his acts must be done for this purpose, and in good faith. If a necessity arises in a foreign port for the repairing or supplying of the ship, he must, in the first instance, make use of any property of the owner he may have under his control, other than cargo.[49] If, however, he has money of the owner in his hands, put on board for the purpose of procuring a cargo, he is not bound to apply this first; but must use his discretion, bearing in mind that all repairs have for their sole object the prosecution of the voyage, which might be defeated by making use of these funds.[50] His next recourse should be to the personal credit of the owner, by drawing bills, or otherwise.[51] [49] 3 Mason, 255. [50] Do. [51] 2 Wash. C. C. 226. If these means fail, he is next to hypothecate (that is, pledge) the ship (bottomry,) or cargo (respondentia,) or freight, or sell part of the cargo, according to circumstances. If the owner of the ship is also owner of the cargo, the better opinion seems to be, that the master may take whichever of these means can be adopted with the least sacrifice of the owner's interest; though, probably, selling part of the cargo would in almost all cases be the least favorable course for all the purposes of the voyage.[52] If the owner of the ship is not owner of the cargo, the master should bear in mind that he is agent of the former, and has generally no further control over the cargo than for safe keeping and transportation.[53] He should, therefore, first exhaust the credit of the ship and freight by hypothecation; and if these means fail, he then becomes, by necessity, agent for the owners of the cargo for the purposes of the voyage, and may hypothecate the whole, or sell a part, according to circumstances. As to selling part, he should remember that his duty is to carry forward the objects of the voyage, and that selling a large part would probably impair these objects more than hypothecating the whole.[54] [52] 2 Wash. C. C. 226. [53] Do. [54] 3 Mason, 255. 1 Wash. C. C. 49; 2 Do. 226. 3 Rob. 240. In no case can any of the cargo be sold or hypothecated to repair or supply the ship, unless these repairs and supplies are to be for the benefit of the cargo. The strictest proof is always required that the repairs were in the first place necessary, and, in the next place, that they were for the benefit of the cargo, and not merely for the good of the ship-owner.[55] [55] 2 Wash. 226. 3 Rob. 240. A further question arises, whether the master has ever, and when, the right to sell the whole cargo and the ship itself. If it should be impossible to repair the ship and send her on the voyage by any of the means before mentioned, it then becomes the master's duty to forward the cargo to the port of destination by some other conveyance. If neither of these things can be done, then he becomes, from necessity, agent of the owner of the cargo, and must make the best disposition of it in his power. If the goods are perishable, the owner cannot be consulted within a reasonable time, and has no agent in the port, and something must be done with the cargo, and there is no one else to act--then the master must dispose of it in such a way as best to subserve the interest of its owner. He should take the advice of the commercial agent or other suitable persons, should also use his own judgment and act with good faith, and take care to preserve evidence that he has so done. If all these requisites are not complied with, he will incur the danger of having his acts set aside.[56] [56] 2 Wash. C. C. 150. 3 Rob. 240. The rule as to the sale of the ship is very nearly the same, except that it is, perhaps, still more strict. If all means for repairing the vessel and sending her on her voyage have failed, and a case of absolute necessity arises, the master may make a sale of her. As a prudent man, he should have the sale made, if possible, under the authority of the judicial tribunals of the place. Even this will not, of itself, render the sale valid, but will go far toward sustaining it. He should consult the consul, or other suitable persons; should have a survey made; should take care to have the sale conducted publicly and with the best faith in all parties, and to preserve evidence of the same. Although a person should buy in good faith, yet the sale will be set aside unless it can be shown that there was the strictest necessity for it. The master must not become a purchaser himself, and even if he afterwards buys of one who purchased at the sale, this transaction will be very narrowly watched, and he will be bound to show the very highest good faith in all parties.[57] [57] 5 Mason, 465. 2 Sumner, 206. Edwards, 117. The strictness of these rules should not deter the master from acting, where the interest of all requires it, but will show him the risk that is run by acting otherwise than with prudence and entire honesty. He should remember, too, that, in taking command of a vessel, he not only covenants that he will act honestly and with the best of his judgment, but also holds himself out as having a reasonable degree of skill and prudence.[58] [58] 1 Dallas, 184. As to the safe keeping, transportation, and delivery of the cargo, the master's duties and obligations are those of a common carrier upon land. He is bound to the strictest diligence in commencing and prosecuting the voyage, a high degree of care both of vessel and goods, and is held liable for all losses and injuries not occasioned by inevitable accident, or by the acts of public enemies. He is answerable also for unnecessary delays and deviations, and for the wrongful or negligent acts of all persons under his command. At the termination of the voyage, he must deliver the goods to the consignee or his agents. A landing upon the wharf is a sufficient delivery, if due notice be given to the parties who are to receive them. He is not, however, bound to deliver until the freight due is paid or secured to his satisfaction, as he has a lien upon the goods for his freight; but the consignee can require the goods to be taken from the hold, in order that he may examine them, before paying freight. In such case they should not go out of the possession of the master or his agents. DEVIATION.--The master must not deviate from the course of the voyage. By a _deviation_ is meant, technically, any alteration of the risk insured against, without necessity or reasonable cause. It may be by departing from the regular and usual course of the voyage, or by any unusual and unnecessary delay. A deviation renders the insurance void, whether the loss of the vessel is caused by the deviation or not. It is not a deviation to make a port for repairs or supplies, if there be no unnecessary delay, nor to depart from the course of the voyage in order to succor persons in distress, to avoid an enemy, or the like. It is the master's duty, within twenty-four hours after arriving at his first port, to make a _protest_ in case of any accident or loss happening to vessel or cargo. The log-book also should be carefully kept, without interlineations or erasures. The master must also enter a protest in case any American seaman is impressed, and transmit a copy of the same to the secretary of state, under a penalty of $100.[59] [59] Act 1796, ch. 36, §5. COLLISION.--A vessel having the wind free must make way for a vessel close-hauled. The general practice is, that when two vessels approach each other, both having a free or fair wind, the one with the starboard tacks aboard keeps on her course, or, if any change is made, she luffs, so as to pass to windward of the other; or, in other words, each vessel passes to the right. This rule should also govern vessels sailing on the wind and approaching each other, when it is doubtful which is to windward. But if the vessel on the larboard tack is so far to windward that if both persist in their course the other will strike her on the lee side, abaft the beam, or near the stern; in such case, the vessel on the starboard tack must give way, as she can do so with less loss of time and greater facility than the other. These rules are particularly intended to govern vessels approaching each other under circumstances that prevent their course and movements being readily discerned with accuracy, as at night or in a fog. At other times, circumstances may render it expedient to depart from them. A steamer is considered as always sailing with a fair wind, and is bound to do whatever would be required of a vessel going free.[60] [60] Report of Benjamin Rich and others to District Court of Mass. PILOT.--The master must take a pilot when within the usual limits of the pilot's employment.[61] If he neglects or refuses so to do, he becomes liable to the owners, freighters, and insurers. If no pilot is at hand, he must make signals, and wait a reasonable time. The master is to be justified in entering port without a pilot only by extreme necessity. After the pilot is on board, the master has no more control over the working of the ship until she is at anchor.[62] [61] 6 Rob. 316. 7 T. R. 160. [62] 2 B. & Ad. 380. 3 Kent's Com. 175 c. WAGES, ADVANCES, &C.--The master has no lien upon the ship for his wages.[63] He is supposed to look to the personal responsibility of the owner. He has a lien on freight for wages, and also for his advances and necessary expenses incurred for the benefit of the ship.[64] He can sue in admiralty _in personam_, but not _in rem_;--that is, he can sue the owner personally, but cannot hold the ship. It does not seem to be settled in the United States whether the master has a lien on the ship for advances made abroad for the benefit of the vessel.[65] In case of sickness, the master's right to be cured at the expense of the ship seems to be the same as that of the seamen.[66] [63] 3 Mason, 91. 11 Pet. R. 175. [64] Ware, 149. But see 5 Wend. 314. [65] 3 Mason, 255. [66] 1 Sumner, 151. CHAPTER III. THE MASTER'S RELATION TO PASSENGERS AND OFFICERS. Treatment of passengers. Removal of officers. PASSENGERS.--The contract of passengers with the master is not for mere ship-room and personal existence on board, but for reasonable food, comforts, necessaries, and kindness. In respect to females, it extends still further, and includes an implied stipulation against obscenity, immodesty, and a wanton disregard of the feelings. An improper course of conduct in these particulars will be punished by the court, as much as a personal assault would be.[67] [67] 3 Mason, 242. OFFICERS.--The master may remove either of his officers from duty for fraudulent or unfaithful conduct, for gross negligence and disobedience, or for palpable incapacity. But the causes of removal must be strong and evident;[68] and much more so in the case of the chief mate than of the second mate. Any temporary appointments, made by the master, are held at his pleasure, and stand upon a different footing from those of persons who originally shipped in the character in question.[69] [68] 4 Wash. 334. [69] Gilpin, 83. When a man ships in a particular capacity, as carpenter, steward, or the like, he is not to be degraded for slight causes. He stipulates for fair and reasonable knowledge and due diligence, but not for extraordinary qualifications.[70] [70] 4 Mason, 84. Abbott Shipp. 147 n. Ware, 109. The right of the master to compel an officer, who has been removed, to do duty as a seaman before the mast, has never been completely established; but the better opinion would seem to be that he may do it in a case of necessity. Merchant vessels have no supernumeraries, and if the master can show that the officer was unfit for the duties he had undertaken, and thus made it necessary to take some one from the forecastle to fill his place, and that, by this means, the ship had become short-handed, he may turn the officer forward, assuming the responsibility for the act, as well as the risk of justification. He would be required to show a much stronger cause for removing the chief mate than would be insisted upon in the case of a second mate; and probably this necessity for exacting seaman's duty would be held to extend no further than an arrival at the first port where other hands could be shipped. Nothing but evident unfitness or gross and repeated misconduct will justify the master in turning a person forward who shipped in another capacity, as carpenter, cook, or steward. But in such cases, he undoubtedly may do so. Still, when before the mast, he cannot require of them the duty of able seamen, unless they are such in fact. CHAPTER IV. THE MASTER'S RELATION TO THE CREW. Shipment. Shipping papers. Discharge. Imprisonment. Punishment. SHIPMENT.--The master of every vessel of the United States, bound on a foreign voyage, and of all coasting vessels of fifty tons burden, must make a contract in writing (shipping articles) with each seaman, specifying the voyage, terms of time, &c.; and in default thereof shall forfeit $20 for every case of omission, and shall be obliged to pay every such seaman the highest rate of wages that have been paid for such voyages at the port of shipment within three months previous to the commencement of the voyage.[71] And when the master ships a seaman in a foreign port, he must take the list of crew and the duplicate of the shipping articles to the consul or commercial agent, who shall make the proper entries thereupon; and then the bond originally given for the return of the men shall embrace each person so shipped. All shipments made contrary to this or any other act of Congress shall be void, and the seaman may leave at any time, and claim the highest rate of wages paid for any man who shipped for the voyage, or the sum agreed to be given him at his shipment.[72] [71] Act 1790, ch. 56, §1. [72] Act 1840, ch. 23, §1. At the foot of every such contract there shall be a memorandum of writing of the day and hour on which such seaman shall render himself on board. If this memorandum is made and the seaman neglects to render himself on board at the time specified, he shall forfeit one day's pay for every hour he is so absent, provided the master or mate shall, on the same day, have made an entry of the name of such seaman in the log-book, specifying the time he was so absent. And if the seaman shall wholly neglect to render himself on board, or, after rendering, shall desert before sailing, so that the vessel goes to sea without him, he then forfeits the amount of his advance and a further sum equal thereto, both of which may be recovered from himself or his surety.[73] [73] Act 1790, ch. 56, §2. There is no obligation upon the master to make these memorandums and entries, other than that the forfeitures cannot be inflicted upon the seamen unless they have been made literally according to the form of the statute. If any seaman who has signed the articles shall desert during the voyage, the master may have him arrested and committed to jail until the vessel is ready to proceed, by applying to a justice of the peace and proving the contract, and the breach thereof by the seaman.[74] [74] Do. §7. Every vessel bound on a foreign voyage shall have on board a duplicate list of the crew, and a true copy of the shipping-articles, certified by the collector of the port, containing the names of the crew, which shall be written in a uniform hand, without erasures or interlineations. This copy the master must produce to any consul or commercial agent of the United States who shall require it; and it shall be deemed to contain all the conditions of the contract. All erasures and interlineations shall be deemed fraudulent unless proved to be innocent and bonâ fide. Every master who shall go upon a foreign voyage without these documents, or shall refuse to produce them when required, shall forfeit one hundred dollars for each offence, beside being liable in damages to any seaman who may have been injured thereby.[75] [75] Act 1840, ch. 23, §1. DISCHARGE.--If the master discharges any seaman in a foreign port, with his own consent, he shall pay to the consul three months' wages for every such seaman, in addition to the wages then due to him, two-thirds to go to the seaman upon his taking passage for the United States, and the remainder to be retained by the consul to make a fund for the relief of destitute seamen.[76] The master of every vessel bound to the United States shall, upon the request of the consul, take on board any seaman and transport him to the United States, on terms not exceeding ten dollars for each seaman, under penalty of one hundred dollars for every refusal. He is not, however, bound to receive more than two men to every hundred tons.[77] [76] Act 1803, ch. 62, §3. See also Act 1840, ch. 23, §5. [77] Act 1803, ch. 62, §4. The whole policy of the United States discourages the discharge of seamen in foreign ports. If the seaman is discharged against his consent, and without justifiable cause, he can recover his wages up to the time of the vessel's return, together with his own expenses. The certificate of the consul will not, of itself, prove the sufficiency of the cause of discharge. Though the seaman shall have made himself liable to be discharged, yet if he repents and offers to return to duty, the master must receive him, unless he can show a sufficient cause of refusal.[78] If the master alleges, as a cause for discharging a seaman, that he was a dangerous man, it must be shown that the danger was such as would affect a man of ordinary firmness.[79] [78] Ware, 65. 4 Mason, 541, 84. [79] Ware, 9. In addition to the master's liability to the seaman, he is criminally liable to the government for discharging a mariner without cause. The statute enacts that if the master shall, when abroad, force on shore or leave behind any officer or seaman without justifiable cause, he shall be fined not exceeding five hundred dollars, or imprisoned not exceeding six months, according to the aggravation of the offence.[80] [80] Act 1825, ch. 276, §10. Notwithstanding these liabilities, the master may discharge a seaman for gross misconduct; yet the right is very strictly construed.[81] [81] Abbott on Shipp., 147, note. IMPRISONMENT.--The master has the right to imprison a seaman in a foreign port, in a case of urgent necessity, but the power has always been very closely watched by courts of law. "The practice of imprisoning seamen in foreign jails is one of doubtful legality, and is to be justified only by a strong case of necessity."[82] "The master is not authorized to punish a seaman by imprisonment in a foreign jail unless in cases of aggravated misconduct and insubordination."[83] If he does so punish him, he is not permitted to deduct his wages during the time of imprisonment, nor charge him with the expense of it.[84] If the imprisonment is without justifiable cause, the master is not excused by showing that it was ordered by the consul.[85] And, generally, the advice of a consul is no justification of an illegal act.[86] [82] Gilpin, 31. Ware, 19. [83] Ware, 503. [84] Ware, 9, 503. [85] Ware, 367. [86] Gilpin, 31. PUNISHMENT.--The master may inflict moderate correction on a seaman for sufficient cause; but he must take care that it is not disproportionate to the offence. If he exceeds the bounds of moderation he is treated as a trespasser, and is liable in damages.[87] In respect to the mode of correction, it may be by personal chastisement, or by confinement on board ship, in irons, or otherwise.[88] But there must not be any cruelty or unnecessary severity exercised. The mode, instruments or extent of the punishment are not laid down by law. These must depend upon circumstances. In cases of urgent necessity, as of mutiny, weapons may be used which would be unlawful at other times; but even in these cases, they must be used with the caution which the law requires in other cases of self-defence and vindication of rightful authority.[89] [87] 1 Peters' Ad. 186, 172. 2 Do. 420. 1 Wash. 316. [88] 1 Peters' Ad. 186, 168. 15 Mass. 365. [89] Same cases. It is not necessary that the punishment should be inflicted to suppress the offence at the time of its commission. It may be inflicted for past offences, and to promote good discipline on board. But the reference to by-gone acts should be very clear and distinct, or they will be presumed to have been forgiven.[90] In many cases prudence may require a postponement of the proper punishment. The authority of the master, being in its nature parental, must be exercised with a due regard to the rights and interests of all parties. He has a large discretion, but is held to answer strictly for every abuse of it.[91] The law enjoins upon him a temperate demeanor and decent conduct towards seamen. He risks the consequences if he commences a dispute with illegal conduct and improper behavior.[92] In all his acts of correction, he must punish purely for reformation and discipline, and never to gratify personal feelings.[93] If a master generally permits or encourages disorderly behavior in his ship, he is less excusable for inflicting unusual punishment on account of misconduct arising out of that disorder.[94] If the case admits of delay, and the master does not make proper inquiry before punishing, he takes the consequences upon himself.[95] [90] 1 Hagg. 271. [91] 15 Mass. 365. 3 Day, 294. [92] 4 Wash. 340. [93] 1 Pet. Ad. 168, 173, note. [94] Bee, 239. [95] 1 Hagg. 271. This power over the liberty and person of a fellow man, being against common right, and intrusted to the master only from public policy, regarding the necessities of the service, is to be sparingly used, and a strict account will be required of its exercise. The master is responsible for any punishment inflicted on board the vessel, unless in his absence, or when he is prevented by force from interfering.[96] Neither will absence always be an excuse. If he had reason to suppose that such a thing might be done, and did not take pains to be present and interfere, he will be liable. Neither, (as is often supposed,) will the advice, or even the personal superintendence or orders of a consul, or any foreign authority, relieve the master of his personal responsibility.[97] He may ask advice, but he must act upon his own account, and is equally answerable for what he does himself, and what he permits to be done on board his vessel by others. The seaman is entitled to be dealt with by his own captain, under whom he shipped, and whom he may hold responsible at the end of the voyage; and this responsibility is not to be shaken off by calling in the aid of others. In case of an open mutiny, or of imminent danger to life and property, the master may make use of the local authorities; but then he is to remember that he can use them no further than for the purpose of quelling the mutiny, or of apprehending the felon. As soon as his authority is restored, the parental character is again thrown upon him, and all acts of punishment must be upon his own responsibility. He has no right to punish criminally. He has no judicial power. If a seaman has committed an offence further than against the internal order and economy of the ship, and which moderate correction is not sufficient to meet, the master must bring him home, (in confinement, if necessary,) or send him immediately by some other vessel, to be tried by the laws and by a jury of his country.[98] [96] 2 Sumner, 1. Ware, 219. [97] Ware, 367. Gilpin, 31. [98] 1 Pet. Ad. 168. The practice of subjecting American seamen to foreign authority, or to persons whom they cannot well hold answerable,--like that of foreign imprisonment,--is an odious one, and must be justified by an overpowering necessity. A recent statute[99] makes it the duty of consuls to exert themselves to reclaim deserters and discountenance insubordination, and authorizes them to employ the local authorities, where it can usefully be done, for those purposes. But this will unquestionably be restricted to the apprehension of the deserter, and the quelling of the revolt or mutiny; and as soon as these ends are attained, the sole responsibility of the master in dealing with the crew will re-attach. [99] Act 1840, ch. 23, §1. If the master is present while the mate, or any subordinate officer, inflicts punishment upon any of the crew, or if it is inflicted under such circumstances as would raise a presumption that the master was knowing of it, and he does not interfere, he will be held to have adopted it as his own act, and will be answerable accordingly.[100] [100] 2 Sumner, 1. In addition to the master's liability to the seamen in damages for abuse of power, he is also liable, as a criminal, to fine and imprisonment. A recent statute enacts, that "if any master, or other officer, of an American vessel, shall, from malice, hatred, or revenge, and without justifiable cause, beat, wound, or imprison any one or more of the crew of such vessel, or withhold from them suitable food or nourishment, or inflict on them any cruel or unusual punishment, every such person so offending shall, on conviction thereof, be punished by fine not exceeding one thousand dollars, or by imprisonment not exceeding five years, or by both, according to the nature and aggravation of the offence."[101] It is held that the word 'crew,' in this statute, includes officers; and accordingly a master was punished for unjustifiably confining and otherwise mal-treating his chief mate.[102] [101] Act 1835, ch. 313, §3. [102] 3 Sumner, 209. To constitute 'malice' in the above statute, it is not necessary to show malignity as it is commonly understood, or brutality; but the term, in law, requires no more than a 'wilful intention to do a wrongful act.' An offence is punishable under this act, even although no bad passions came into play, (as hatred, or revenge,) for the term 'malice,' in law, covers all cases of intentional wrong, in their mildest form.[103] [103] 2 Sumner, 584. If a seaman desires to lay any complaint before a consul in a foreign port, the master must permit him to land for that purpose, or else inform the consul immediately of the fact, stating his reasons in writing for not allowing the man to land. If he refuses to do this, he forfeits one hundred dollars, and is liable to the seaman in damages.[104] [104] Act 1840, ch. 23, §1. CHAPTER V. PASSENGERS. Provisions. Treatment. Passage-money. Deportment. Services. In Chapter I. of the Third Part, under the title "Provisions," it will be seen that the vessel must have on board, well secured under deck, at least sixty gallons of water, one hundred pounds of salted beef, one hundred pounds of wholesome ship bread, and one gallon of vinegar for each passenger, on a voyage across the Atlantic, and in like proportion for shorter or longer voyages. This, too, must be in addition to the private stores of the master or passengers.[105] [105] Act 1819, ch. 170, §3. The master is also forbidden to take on board more than two passengers for every five tons.[106] [106] Do. §1. The contract of passengers with the master is not for mere ship-room and personal existence on board, but for reasonable food, comforts, necessaries, and kindness. In respect to females it extends yet farther, and includes an implied stipulation against obscenity, immodesty, and a wanton disregard of the feelings. A course of conduct oppressive and malicious in these respects will be punished by the court, as well as a personal assault.[107] [107] 3 Mason, 342. No passage-money is due to a ship upon an engagement to transport a passenger, before the arrival of the vessel at the port of destination. Where the passenger has paid in advance, he can reclaim his money if the voyage is not performed. If a voyage is partially performed, no passage-money is due, unless the expenses of the passenger, or the means of proceeding to the place of destination, are paid or tendered to him; in which case, passage-money in proportion to the progress in the voyage is payable.[108] [108] 1 Pet. Ad. 126. A passenger must submit to the reasonable rules and usages of the ship. He has no right to interfere with its discipline and internal regulations. Indeed, in a case of necessity, and for the order and safety of the ship, the master may restrain a passenger by force; but the cause must be urgent, and the manner reasonable and moderate. In case of danger and distress, it is the duty as well as the interest of the passenger to contribute his aid, according to his ability, and he is entitled to no compensation therefor. He is not, however, bound to remain on board in time of danger, but may leave the vessel if he can; much less is he required to take upon himself any responsibility as to the conduct of the ship. If, therefore, he performs any extraordinary services, he becomes entitled to salvage.[109] [109] 2 B. and P. 612. 1 Pet. Ad. 70. 2 Hagg. 3. CHAPTER VI. MATES AND SUBORDINATES. Mates included in the 'crew.' Removal. Succession. Log-book Wages. Sickness. Punishment. Subordinates. Pilots. In all the statutes which entitle the 'crew,' or the 'seamen,' of a vessel to certain privileges as against the master or owner, these words, 'crew' and 'seamen,' are construed to include the mates; as, for instance, the statute requiring a certain amount of provisions to be on board; the statute requiring a medicine-chest, and that which punishes the master for illegal and cruel treatment of any of the crew. In all these cases the mates are entitled to the same privileges and protection with the seamen.[110] [110] 1 Sumner, 151; 3 do. 209. 4 Mason, 104. The _chief mate_ is usually put on board by the owner, and is a person who is looked to for extraordinary services and responsibility. Accordingly, he cannot be removed by the master, unless for repeated and aggravated misconduct, or for palpable incapacity.[111] He acts in the stead of the master in case the latter dies, and whenever he is absent.[112] He is then entrusted with the care of the ship, and the government of the crew. If he is appointed to act as mate by the master during the voyage, he holds his office at the master's pleasure;[113] but if he originally shipped in that capacity, he cannot be removed without proof of gross and flagrant misconduct, or of evident unfitness. Nor will one or two single instances of intemperance, disobedience or negligence, be sufficient; the misconduct must be repeated, and the habit apparently incorrigible.[114] [111] 1 Pet. Ad. 244. 4 Wash. 338. [112] 4 Mason, 541. 1 Sumner, 151. [113] Gilpin, 83. [114] 1 Pet. Ad. 244. 4 Wash. 338. The second mate and other inferior officers do not stand upon so firm a footing as the chief mate; yet they cannot be removed by the master, unless for gross and repeated acts of disobedience, intemperance, dishonesty or negligence, or for palpable incapacity. In case of the death or absence of the master, the chief mate becomes master by operation of law, but the second mate does not necessarily become chief mate. It lies with the new master to appoint whom he pleases to act as chief mate; though, in most cases, it should be the second mate, unless good reason exists for the contrary course. The second mate cannot, however, be degraded by the new master for any other cause than would have justified the former in so doing. LOG-BOOK.--It is the duty of the chief mate to keep the log-book of the ship. This should be neatly and carefully kept, and all interlineations and erasures should be avoided, as they always raise suspicion. The entries should be made as soon as possible after each event takes place, and nothing should be entered which the mate would not be willing to adhere to in a court of justice. (See page 145.) In Chapter III. of the Third Part, under the title, "Master's relation to Officers," page 188, will be found a discussion of the question, whether the master can compel an officer to do duty before the mast. In Chapters VIII., X., XI. and XII. of Part III., under the titles, "Revolt," "Forfeiture," "Desertion," &c., will be found the laws upon those subjects relating to seamen. And it may be generally remarked, that all those laws apply as well to the officers as to the foremast men. An officer forfeits his wages by desertion, and is criminally liable for mutiny, revolt, &c., like a common seaman. As to the questions what constitutes a revolt, mutiny, &c., and when absence or leaving a vessel is excusable, and when it works a forfeiture, and as to when wages are due, I would refer the reader to those titles in Chapters VIII., X., XI. and XII. of Part III., above referred to. WAGES.--Officers may sue in admiralty for their wages, and may arrest the ship, into whoseever hands it may have passed;[115] which is not the case with the master, who is supposed to look solely to the personal responsibility of the owners. [115] 1 Pet. Ad. 246. SICKNESS.--The right of an officer to be cured at the ship's expense is the same as that of a seaman.[116] The law upon that subject will be found in Chapter IX., title "Sickness," page 207. [116] 1 Sumner, 151. PUNISHMENT.--The laws of the United States provide that if any master or officer shall unjustifiably beat, wound, or imprison any of the crew, or withhold from them suitable food and nourishment, or inflict upon them any cruel and unusual punishment, he shall be imprisoned not exceeding five years, and fined not exceeding $1000 for each offence.[117] The officers, as part of the 'crew,' are entitled to the protection of this statute, against the master's acts; and, on the other hand, they are liable under it for any abuse of a seaman.[118] [117] Act 1835, ch. 313, §3. [118] 4 Mason, 104. 3 Sumner, 209. The law as to the officer's right to punish a seaman has been clearly settled, and is very simple. The sole authority to punish, for correction and discipline, resides with the master.[119] An officer has no right to use force with a seaman, either by chastising or confining him, except in a single class of cases; that is, upon an emergency which admits of no delay, and where the use of force is necessary for the safety of life and property. If a seaman is about to do an act which may endanger life or property, and instant action is required, the officer may confine him, or use force necessary to prevent him. So, if the immediate execution of an order is important, and a seaman, by obstinacy or wilful negligence, prevents or impedes the act, the officer may use force necessary to secure the performance of the duty. In these cases there must be a pressing necessity which will not admit of delay; for if delay is practicable, the officer must report to the master, and leave the duty of correction with him. A mate can in no case punish a seaman for the general purposes of correction and discipline, and still less for personal disrespect to himself.[120] If the master is not on board, and cannot be called upon, the authority of the officer is somewhat enlarged; but, even in this case, so far as a delay is practicable, he must leave the seaman to be dealt with by the master when he returns. Except in the cases and in the manner before mentioned, the officer is liable as a trespasser for any force used with a seaman. [119] 2 Sumner, 584. [120] Do. 1. 584. If the officer acts under the authority, express or implied, of the master, he will not be held liable, even though the punishment should be excessive and unjustifiable; for he is, in such cases, only the agent of the master, who is responsible for the act.[121] Yet, if the punishment be so excessive as to show malice or wantonness on the part of the officer, or there be anything in his conduct to imply the same, he will be liable in some measure himself. [121] Ware, 219. SUBORDINATES.--There are a number of men, usually, in merchant vessels, who are not in any respect officers, but who differ from the common seamen in that they ship in particular capacities, and to perform certain duties. These are the carpenter, steward, cook, &c. Such persons are not to be degraded for slight causes, though the master unquestionably has the power to do so, upon sufficient grounds.[122] He may also require them to do duty, if necessary, before the mast. He may require them to take the place of persons who have been obliged to do their work,[123] but he cannot exact from them the duty of able seamen, unless they are such in fact. Repeated acts of disobedience, intemperance, and gross negligence, and evident incapacity for the duties undertaken, are justifying causes of removal.[124] In all other respects this class of persons stands upon the same footing with common seamen. They have the same privileges, and are under the same obligations and penalties.[125] [122] 4 Mason, 84. Ware, 109. [123] Ware, 109. [124] Ware, 109. [125] 2 Pet. Ad. 268. PILOTS.--When a pilot, who is regularly appointed, is on board, he has the absolute control of the navigation of the vessel.[126] He is master for the time being, and is alone answerable for any damage occasioned by his own negligence or default.[127] [126] 1 Johns. 305. [127] 1 Pet. Ad. 223. 1 Mason, 508. A pilot may sue in admiralty for his wages.[128] [128] 1 Mason, 508. A pilot cannot claim _salvage_ for any acts done within the limits of his duty, however useful and meritorious they may have been.[129] If towing is necessary, pilots are bound to perform it, having a claim for compensation for damages done to their boats, or for extra labor.[130] If extraordinary pilot service is performed, additional pilotage is the proper reward, and not salvage.[131] If, however, the acts done by the pilot are clearly without and beyond his duty as pilot, he may claim salvage.[132] [129] Gilpin, 60. 10 Peters R. 108. 2 Hagg. 176. [130] 2 Hagg. 176. [131] 2 Hagg. 176. [132] 1 Rob. 106. Gilpin, 60. CHAPTER VII. SEAMEN. SHIPPING CONTRACT. Shipping contract--how formed--how signed. Erasures and interlineations. Unusual stipulations. By the law of the United States, in all foreign voyages, and in all coasting voyages to other than an adjoining state, there must be an agreement in writing, or in print, with every seaman on board the ship, (excepting only apprentices and servants of the master or owner,) declaring the voyage, and term or terms of time, for which such seaman is hired.[133] This contract is called the _shipping-articles_, and all the crew, including the master and officers, usually sign the same paper; it not being requisite that there should be a separate paper for each man. If there is not such a contract signed, each seaman could, by the old law, recover the highest rate of wages that had been given on similar voyages, at the port where he shipped, within three months next before the time of shipment.[134] By the law of 1840, he may, in such case, leave the vessel at any time, and demand the highest rate of wages given to any seaman during the voyage, or the rate agreed upon at the time of his shipment.[135] A seaman not signing the articles, is not bound by any of the regulations, nor subject to the penalties of the statutes;[136] but he is, notwithstanding, bound by the rules and liable to the forfeitures imposed by the general maritime law.[137] [133] Act 1790, ch. 56, §1. [134] Act 1790, ch. 56, §1. [135] Act 1840, ch. 23, §10. [136] Act 1790, ch. 56, §1. [137] 1 Pet. Ad. 212. These shipping-articles are legal evidence, and bind all parties whose names are annexed to them, both as to wages, the nature and length of the voyage, and the duties to be performed.[138] Accordingly, seamen have certain rights secured to them with reference to these papers. In the first place, the master must obtain a copy of the articles, certified to by the collector of the port from which the vessel sails, to take with him upon the voyage. This must be a fair and true copy, without erasures or interlineations. If there are any such erasures or interlineations, they will be presumed to be fraudulent, and will be set aside, unless they are satisfactorily explained in a manner consistent with innocent purposes, and with the provisions of laws which guard the rights of mariners. These articles must be produced by the master before any consul or commercial agent to whom a seaman may have submitted a complaint.[139] [138] 3 Mason, 161. Act 1840, ch. 23, §3. [139] Act 1840, ch. 23, §2, 19. Every unusual clause introduced into the shipping-articles, or anything which tends to deprive a seaman of what he would be entitled to by the general law, will be suspiciously regarded by the courts; and if there is reason to suppose that any advantage has been taken of him, or if the contract bears unequally upon him, it will be set aside. In order to sustain such a clause, the master or owner must show two things: first, that the seaman's attention was directed toward it, and its operation and effect explained to him; and, secondly, that he received some additional compensation or privilege in consideration of the clause. Unless the court is satisfied upon these two points, an unusual stipulation unfavorable to a seaman will be set aside.[140] For instance, seamen are entitled to have a medicine-chest on board, and in certain cases to be cured at the ship's expense; and the court set aside a clause in the shipping-articles in which it was stipulated that the seamen should bear all the expense, even though there were no medicine-chest on board.[141] Another clause was set aside, in which the voyage was described as from Baltimore to St. Domingo and _elsewhere_, on the ground that seamen are entitled to have their voyage accurately described.[142] [140] 2 Sumner, 443. 2 Mason, 541. [141] 2 Mason, 541. [142] 1 Hall's Law Jour. 207. 2 Gall. 477, 526. 2 Dods. 504. Gilp. 219. Some clauses which are not such as to be set aside, will yet be construed in favor of seamen, if their interpretation is at all doubtful.[143] A clause providing that no wages should be paid if the vessel should be taken or lost, or detained more than thirty days, was set aside, seamen being entitled to wages up to the last port of delivery.[144] If the amount of wages merely be omitted in the articles, there seems to be some doubt as to the introduction of other evidence to show the rate agreed upon, and as to the seaman's being entitled by statute to the highest rate of wages current.[145] If a seaman ships for a general coasting and trading voyage to different ports in the United States, and the articles provide for no time or place at which the voyage shall end, the seaman may leave at any time, provided he does not do so under circumstances peculiarly inconvenient to the other party.[146] [143] 1 Pet. Ad. 186, 215. [144] 2 Sumner, 443. [145] Gilpin, 452. Abb. on Shipp. 434, note. Act 1840, ch. 23, §10. [146] Ware, 437. If, however, the voyage is accurately described, and the wages specified, the seaman cannot be admitted to show that his contract was different from that contained in the articles.[147] [147] Gilpin, 305. It is no violation of the contract if the vessel departs from the voyage described, by accident, necessity, or superior force.[148] [148] 2 Hagg, 243. CHAPTER VIII. SEAMEN--CONTINUED. Rendering on board. Refusal to proceed. Desertion or absence during the voyage. Discharge. RENDERING ON BOARD.--If, after having signed the articles, and after a time has been appointed for the seaman to render himself on board, he neglects to appear, and an entry to that effect is made in the log-book, he forfeits one day's pay for every hour of absence; and if the ship is obliged to proceed without him, he forfeits a sum equal to double his advance.[149] These forfeitures apply to the commencement of the voyage, and cannot be exacted unless a memorandum is made on the articles, and an entry in full in the log-book. A justice of the peace may, upon complaint of the master, issue a warrant to apprehend a deserting seaman, and commit him to jail until the vessel is ready to proceed upon her voyage. The master must, however, first show that the contract has been signed, and that the seaman departed without leave, and in violation of it.[150] [149] Act 1790, ch. 56, §2. [150] Do. §7. REFUSAL TO PROCEED.--If, after the voyage has begun, and before the vessel has left the land, the first officer and a majority of the crew shall agree that the vessel is unfit to proceed on the voyage, either from fault or deficiency in hull, spars, rigging, outfits, provisions, or crew, they may require the master to make the nearest or most convenient port, and have the matter inquired into by the district judge, or two justices of the peace, taking two or more of the complainants before the judge. Thereupon the judge orders a survey, and decides whether the vessel is to proceed, or stop and be repaired and supplied; and both master and crew are bound by this decision. If the seamen and mate shall have made this complaint without reason, and from improper motives, they are liable to be charged with the expenses attending it.[151] [151] Do. §3. If, when the vessel is in a foreign port, the first or any other officer and a majority of the crew shall make complaint, in writing, to the consul, that the ship is unfit to proceed to sea, for any of the above reasons, the consul shall order an examination, in the same manner; and the decision of the consul shall bind all parties. If the consul shall decide that the vessel was sent to sea in an unsuitable condition, by neglect or design, the crew shall be entitled to their discharge and three months' additional pay; but not if it was done by accident or innocent mistake.[152] [152] Act 1840, ch. 23, §12--15. It is no justification for refusing to do duty and proceed upon the voyage, that a new master has been substituted in place of the one under whom the seaman originally shipped;[153] and if a blank is left for the name of the master, the seaman is supposed to ship under any who may be appointed.[154] The same rule applies to the substitution or appointment of any other officer of the ship during the voyage. [153] 1 Mason, 443. Bee, 48. 2 Sum. 582. [154] 6 Mass. 300. DESERTION OR ABSENCE DURING THE VOYAGE.--If, during the voyage, the seaman absents himself without leave, for less than forty-eight hours, and an entry thereof is made in full in the log-book, he forfeits three days' pay for each day's absence. But if the absence exceeds forty-eight hours, he forfeits all his wages then due, and all his goods and chattels on board the vessel at the time, and is liable to the owner in damages for the expense of hiring another seaman.[155] If he deserts within the limits of the United States, he is liable to be arrested and committed to jail, until the vessel sails.[156] If he deserts or absents himself in a foreign port, the consul is empowered to make use of the authorities of the place to reclaim him. If, however, the consul is satisfied that the desertion was caused by unusual or cruel treatment, the seaman may be discharged, and shall receive three months' additional wages.[157] It is not a desertion for a seaman to leave his vessel for the purpose of procuring necessary food, which has been refused on board; nor is a seaman liable if the conduct of the master has been such as to make it dangerous for him to remain on board,[158] or if the shipping-articles have been fraudulently altered.[159] Even in a clear case of desertion, if the party repents, and seeks to return to his duty within a reasonable time, he is entitled to be received on board again, unless his previous conduct had been such as would justify his discharge.[160] [155] Act 1790, ch. 56, §5. [156] Act 1790, ch. 56, §7. [157] Act 1840, ch. 23, §9. [158] 1 Hagg. 63. [159] Do. 182. [160] 1 Sumner, 373. As to the effect of desertion upon wages, and what is desertion in such cases, see the subject, "Wages affected by Desertion," Chapter XI. DISCHARGE.--By referring to Chapter IV., "Master's Relation to Crew," the seaman will find that, though the master has power to discharge a seaman for gross and repeated misconduct, yet that this right is closely watched, and any abuse of it is severely punished. He will also find there a statement of his own rights and privileges, with reference to a discharge. It has been seen that he may demand his discharge of the consul, if the vessel is not fit to proceed, and is not repaired, or if he has been cruelly and unjustifiably treated.[161] [161] Act 1840, ch. 23, §9, 14. If a vessel has been so much injured that it is doubtful whether she can be repaired, or the repairs cannot be made for a long time, during which it would be a great expense to the owners to support the seamen in a foreign country, it is held that the crew may be discharged, upon the owners' paying their passage home, and their wages up to the time of their arrival at the place of shipment.[162] [162] 2 Dodson, 403. As to discharge at the end of the voyage, see "Wages affected by Desertion," Chapter XI. CHAPTER IX. SEAMEN--CONTINUED. Provisions. Sickness. Medicine-chest. Hospital money. Relief in foreign ports. Protection. PROVISIONS.--For the benefit of seamen it has been enacted that every vessel bound on a voyage across the Atlantic, shall have on board, well secured under deck, at least sixty gallons of water, one hundred pounds of wholesome ship bread, and one hundred pounds of salted flesh meat, over and above the stores of master or passengers, and the live stock. And if the crew of any vessel not so provided shall be put upon short allowance of water, flesh, or bread, such seaman shall recover from the master double wages for every day he was so allowanced.[163] The same rule applies to other voyages than those across the Atlantic, and the amount of provisions stowed below must be in proportion to the length of the voyage, compared with one across the Atlantic.[164] It also applies to seamen shipped in foreign ports, as well as to those shipped in the United States.[165] It has been thought that if the articles enumerated cannot be procured, the master may substitute other wholesome provisions; but it is doubtful whether even this will free him from the penalty; at least it will not unless he can show that it was impossible to procure them at the last port of departure.[166] [163] Act 1790, ch. 56, §9. [164] Do. [165] 1 Pet. Ad. 223. [166] 1 Pet. Ad. 229, 223. Bee, 80 Abb. 135, note. Ware, 454. Besides this special enactment, a seaman may always recover damages of a master who unnecessarily and wantonly deprives him of sufficient food and nourishment.[167] If, however, the short allowance is caused by inevitable accident, without any fault of the master or owner, or is a matter of fair discretion in a case of common danger, the master is not liable. Another law of the United States provides that if any master or other officer shall wilfully and without justifiable cause withhold suitable food and nourishment from a seaman, he shall be fined not exceeding $1000 and imprisoned not exceeding five years.[168] The master may at any time, at his discretion, put the crew upon an allowance of water and eatables; but if it is a short allowance, he must be able to give a justifying reason. [167] 2 Pet. Ad. 409. [168] Act 1835, ch. 313, §3. SICKNESS. MEDICINE-CHEST.--Every vessel of one hundred and fifty tons or upwards, navigated by ten or more persons in all, and bound on a voyage beyond the United States, and every vessel of seventy-five tons or upwards, navigated by six or more persons in the whole, and bound from the United States to any port in the West Indies, is required to have a chest of medicines, put up by an apothecary of known reputation, and accompanied by directions for administering the same. The chest must also be examined at least once a year, and supplied with fresh medicines.[169] [169] Act 1790, ch. 56, §8; 1805, ch. 88, §1. In case of dispute, the owner must prove the sufficiency of the medicine-chest. It does not lie with the seaman to prove its insufficiency.[170] [170] 2 Mason, 541. If a vessel has a suitable medicine-chest on board, it would seem that the ship is not to be charged with the medicines and medical advice which a seaman may need. But the ship is still liable for the expenses of his nursing, care, diet, and lodging.[171] Accordingly, if a seaman is put on shore at a hospital or elsewhere, for his cure, the ship is chargeable with so much of the expense as is incurred for nursing, care, diet, and lodging; and unless the owner can specify the items of the charge, and show how much was for medical advice, and how much for other expenses, he must pay the whole.[172] The seaman is to be cured at the expense of the ship, of a sickness or injury sustained in the ship's service;[173] but if he contracts a disease by his own fault or vices, the ship is not chargeable.[174] A sick seaman is entitled to proper nursing, lodging, and diet. If these cannot be had, or are not furnished on board the vessel, he is entitled to be taken on shore to a hospital, or to some place where these can be obtained. It is often attempted to be shown that the seaman was put on shore at his own request. This is no defence. He is entitled to be put on shore if his disease requires it; and it is seldom that proper care can be taken of a seaman on board ship.[175] [171] 2 Mason, 541. 1 Sumner, 151. [172] 1 Pet. Ad. 256, note. [173] 1 Sumner, 195. [174] Gilpin, 435. 1 Pet. Ad. 142, 152. [175] 1 Pet. Ad. 256, note. If a seaman requires further medicines and medical advice than the chest and directions can give, and is not sent ashore, it would seem that the ship ought to bear the expense; but this point has never been decided.[176] If the medicine-chest can furnish all he needs, the ship is exempted.[177] [176] Gilpin, 435. 1 Pet. Ad. 142, 152, 255. [177] 2 Mason, 541. HOSPITAL MONEY.--Every seaman must pay twenty cents a month, out of his wages, for hospital money. This goes to the establishment and support of hospitals for sick and disabled seamen.[178] [178] Act 1798, ch. 94, §1. RELIEF IN FOREIGN PORTS.--If a vessel is sold in a foreign port and her crew discharged, or if a seaman is discharged with his own consent, he can receive two months' extra wages of the consul, who must obtain it of the master.[179] This applies only to the voluntary sale of the vessel, and not when the sale is rendered necessary by shipwreck. If, however, after the disaster the vessel might have been repaired at a reasonable expense and in a reasonable time, but the owner chooses to sell, the two months' pay is due. To escape the payment, the owner must show that he was obliged to sell.[180] [179] Act 1803, ch. 62, §3. [180] Ware, 485. Gilpin, 198. It is also the duty of the consuls to provide subsistence and a passage to the United States for any American seamen found destitute within their districts. The seamen must, if able, do duty on board the vessel in which they are sent home, according to their several abilities.[181] [181] Act 1803, ch. 62, §4. The crew of every vessel shall have the fullest liberty to lay their complaints before the consul or commercial agent in any foreign port, and shall in no respect be restrained or hindered therein by the master or any officer, unless sufficient and valid objection exist against their landing. In which case, if any seaman desire to see the consul, the master must inform the consul of it forthwith; stating, in writing, the reason why the seaman is not permitted to land, and that the consul is desired to come on board. Whereupon the consul must proceed on board and inquire into the causes of complaint.[182] [182] Act 1840, ch. 23, §1. PROTECTION.--Every American seaman, upon applying to the collector of the port from which he departs, and producing proof of his citizenship, is entitled to a letter of protection. The collector may charge for this twenty-five cents.[183] [183] Act 1796, ch. 36, §4. CHAPTER X. SEAMEN--CONTINUED. Punishment. Revolt and mutiny. Embezzlement. Piracy. PUNISHMENT.--As to the right of the master to punish a seaman by corporal chastisement, imprisonment on shore, confinement on board, &c., and the extent of that right, and the master's liability for exceeding it,--the seaman is referred to Chapter IV., "The Master's relation to the Crew," title, "Imprisonment" and "Punishment." He will there see that the master possesses this right to a limited extent, and that he is strictly answerable for the abuse of it. Disobedience of orders, combinations to refuse duty, dishonest conduct, personal insolence, and habitual negligence and backwardness, are all causes which justify punishment in a greater or less degree. The contract which a seaman makes with the master, is not like that of a man who engages in any service on shore. It is somewhat military in its nature.[184] The master has great responsibilities resting upon him, and is entitled to instant and implicit obedience. To ensure this, regular and somewhat strict discipline must be preserved. The master, also, cannot obtain assistance when at sea, as any one can who is in authority upon land. He must depend upon the habits of faithful and respectful discharge of duty which his crew have acquired, and if this fails, he may resort to force. He is answerable for the safety of the ship, and for the safe keeping and delivery of valuable cargoes, and in almost all cases he is the first person to whom the owner of the vessel and cargo will look for indemnity. Considering this, the seamen will feel that it is not unreasonable that the master should have power to protect himself and all for whom he acts, even by force if necessary.[185] A good seaman, who is able and willing to do his duty faithfully and at all times, and treats his officers respectfully, will seldom be abused; and if he is, the master is liable to him personally in damages, and is also subject to be indicted by the government and tried as a criminal. A seaman should be warned against taking the law into his own hands. If the treatment he receives is unjustifiable, he should still submit to it, if possible, until the voyage is up, or until he arrives at some port where he can make complaint. If he is conscious that he is not to blame, and an assault is made upon him unjustifiably and with dangerous severity, he may defend himself; but he should not attempt to punish the offender, or to inflict anything in the way of retaliation.[186] [184] Ware, 86. 3 Wash. 515. [185] Ware, 219. [186] Do. 3 Wash. 552. In Chapter VI., title, "Mates," the reader will see how far any inferior officer of a vessel may use force with a seaman. REVOLT AND MUTINY.--If any one or more of the crew of an American vessel shall by fraud or force, or by threats or intimidations, take the command of the vessel from the master or other commanding officer, or resist or prevent him in the free and lawful exercise of his authority, or transfer the command to any other person not lawfully entitled to it; every person so offending, and his aiders and abbettors, shall be deemed guilty of a revolt or mutiny and felony; and shall be punished by fine not exceeding $2000, and by imprisonment and confinement to hard labor not exceeding ten years, according to the nature and aggravation of the offence.[187] And if any seaman shall endeavor to commit a revolt or mutiny, or shall combine with others on board to make a revolt or mutiny, or shall solicit or incite any of the crew to disobey or resist the lawful orders of the master or other officer, or to refuse or neglect their proper duty on board, or shall assemble with others in a riotous or mutinous manner, or shall unlawfully confine the master or other commanding officer,--every person committing any one or more of these offences shall be imprisoned not exceeding five years, or fined not exceeding $1000, or both, according to the nature and aggravation of the offence.[188] [187] Act 1835, ch. 313, §1. [188] Do. §2. It will be seen that the first of these laws applies only to cases where seamen actually throw off all authority, deprive the master of his command, and assume the control themselves, which is to make a revolt. The last is designed to punish endeavors and combinations to make a revolt, which are not fully carried out. Every little instance of disobedience, or insolent conduct, or even force used against the master or other officer, will not be held a revolt or an endeavor to make a revolt. There must be something showing an intention to subvert the lawful authority of the master.[189] It does not excuse seamen, however, from this offence, that they confined their refusal to one particular portion of their duty. If that duty was lawfully required of them, it is equally a subversion of authority as if they had refused all duty.[190] [189] 4 Wash. 528. 1 Pet. Ad. 178. [190] 4 Mason, 105. If the crew interfere by force or threats to prevent the infliction of punishment for a gross offence, it is an endeavor to commit a revolt.[191] [191] 1 Sumner, 448. To constitute the offence of confining the master, it is not necessary that he should be forcibly secured in any particular place, or even that his body should be seized and held; any act which deprives him of his personal liberty in going about the ship, or prevents his doing his duty freely, (if done with that intention,[192]) is a confinement.[193] So is a threat of immediate bodily injury, if made in such a manner as would reasonably intimidate a man of ordinary firmness.[194] [192] 4 Wash. 428. [193] 4 Mason, 105. 4 Wash. 548. 1 Sumner, 448. 3 Wash. 525. [194] Pet. C. C. 213. In all these cases of revolt, mutiny, endeavors to commit the same, and confinement of the master, it is to be remembered that the acts are excusable if done from a sufficient justifying cause. The master may so conduct himself as to justify the officers and crew in placing restraints upon him, to prevent his committing acts which might endanger the lives of all the persons on board. But an excuse of this kind is received with great caution, and the crew should be well assured of the necessity of such a step, before taking it, since they run a great risk in so interfering.[195] [195] 4 Mason, 105. 1 Sumner, 448. Pet. C. C. 118. EMBEZZLEMENT.--If any of the crew steal, or appropriate, or by gross negligence suffer to be stolen, any part of the cargo, or anything belonging to the ship, they are responsible for the value of everything stolen or appropriated. It is necessary that the fraud, connivance, or negligence of a seaman should be proved against him, before he can be charged with anything lost or stolen; and in no case is an innocent man bound to contribute towards a loss occasioned by the misconduct of another. If, however, it is clearly proved that the whole crew were concerned, but one offender is not known more than another, and the circumstances are such as to affect all the crew, each man is to contribute to the loss, unless he clears himself from the suspicion.[196] [196] 1 Mason, 104. Gilpin, 461. PIRACY.--If the master or crew of a vessel shall, upon the high seas, seize upon or rob the master or crew of another vessel; or if they shall run away with the vessel committed to their charge, or any goods to the amount of $50; or voluntarily yield them up to pirates; or if the crew shall prevent the master by violence from fighting in the defence of vessel or property; such conduct is piracy, and punishable with death.[197] [197] Act 1790, ch. 36, §8; 1820, ch. 113, §3. It is also piracy, and punishable with death, to be engaged in any foreign country in kidnapping any negro or mulatto, or in decoying or receiving them on board a vessel with the intention of making them slaves.[198] [198] Act 1820, ch. 113, §4, 5. CHAPTER XI. Seamen's Wages. Affected by desertion or absence;--by misconduct;--by imprisonment;--by capture;--by loss of vessel and interruption of voyage. Wages on an illegal voyage. Wages affected by death or disability. WAGES AFFECTED BY DESERTION OR ABSENCE.--It has been seen that if a seaman, at the commencement of the voyage, neglects to render himself on board at the time appointed, and an entry thereof is made in the log-book, he forfeits one day's pay for every hour's absence; and if he shall wholly absent himself, so that the ship is obliged to go to sea without him, he forfeits his advance and as much more.[199] And if at any time during the voyage he absents himself without leave, and returns within forty-eight hours, he forfeits three days' pay for every day's absence; but if he is absent more than forty-eight hours, he forfeits all the wages then due him, and all his clothes and goods on board at the time.[200] These forfeitures cannot be exacted against the seaman unless there is an entry made in the log-book on the same day that he left, specifying the name of the seaman, and that he was absent without leave.[201] [199] Act 1790, ch. 56, §2. [200] Do. §4. [201] Gilpin, 83, 140, 207. Ware, 309. But independently of these regulations, and without the necessity of any entry, &c., a seaman forfeits his wages for deserting the vessel, or absenting himself wrongfully and without leave, by the general law of all commercial nations.[202] If, however, the seaman is absent without fault of his own,[203] or if he is obliged to desert by reason of cruel treatment, want of food, or the like, he does not forfeit his wages. But in such case, the seaman must prove that the treatment was such that he could not remain without imminent danger to his life, limbs, or health.[204] If the voyage for which he shipped has been abandoned, or there has been a gross and unnecessary deviation, he does not forfeit his wages for leaving the vessel; but then the change of voyage must have been actually determined upon and known to the seaman.[205] [202] Ware, 309. [203] 1 Mason, 45. Bee, 134, 48. Gilpin, 225. [204] 1 Pet. Ad. 186. Gilpin, 225. 2 Pet. Ad. 420, 428. Ware, 83, 91, 109. [205] Gilpin, 150. 2 Pet. Ad. 415. Even if the seaman shall have clearly deserted without justifiable cause, or absented himself more than forty-eight hours, yet, if he shall offer to return and do his duty, the master must receive him, unless his previous conduct would justify a discharge.[206] And if he is so received back, and does his duty faithfully for the rest of the voyage, the forfeiture is considered as remitted, and he is entitled to his wages for the whole voyage.[207] If, however, the owner has suffered any special damage from the wrongful absence of the seaman, as, if the vessel has been detained, or a man hired in his place, all such necessary expenses may be deducted from the wages.[208] [206] 1 Sumner, 373. [207] 2 Wash. 272. Gilpin, 145. 1 Sumner, 373. 1 Pet. Ad. 160. [208] Gilpin, 145, 298, 98. A mere leaving of the vessel, though a wrongful absence, is not a desertion, unless it is done with the intention to desert.[209] A seaman is bound to load and unload cargo in the course of the voyage if required of him, and a refusal to do so is a refusal of duty.[210] If the voyage is at an end, according to the articles, and the vessel is safely moored at the port of discharge, the seamen are still bound to discharge the cargo if it is required of them. If they do not, their refusal or neglect does not, however, work a forfeiture of all their wages, but only makes them liable to a deduction, as compensation to the owner for any damage he may have suffered.[211] The custom in almost all sea-ports of the United States is, to discharge the crew, and not to require them to unload cargo at the end of the voyage. This custom is so strong that if the owner or master wishes to retain the crew, he must give them notice to that effect. Unless the crew are distinctly told that they must remain and discharge cargo, they may leave the vessel as soon as she is safely moored, or made fast. If they are required to remain and discharge cargo, they make themselves liable to a deduction from their wages for a neglect or refusal, but do not forfeit them.[212] The seaman must bear in mind, however, that this is only when the voyage is at an end, and the ship is at the final port of discharge. If he refuses to load or unload at any port in the course of the voyage, and before it is up, according to the articles, he does so at the risk of forfeiting all his wages.[213] [209] 1 Sumner, 373. Ware, 309. [210] 1 Pet. Ad. 253. [211] 1 Sumner, 373. Gilpin, 208. Ware, 454. 2 Hagg. 40. [212] 1 Sumner, 373. Gilpin, 208. [213] 1 Pct. Ad. 253. The master and owners of a vessel are allowed ten days after the voyage is up, before a suit can be brought against them for the wages of the crew.[214] This is in order to give them time to settle all accounts and discover delinquencies. If the crew are retained to unload, then the ten days begin to run from the time the vessel is completely unloaded. But if the crew are not retained for this purpose, but are discharged and allowed to leave the vessel, then the ten days begin to run from the day they are discharged.[215] [214] Act 1790, ch. 56, §6. [215] 1 Pet. Ad. 165, 210. Ware, 458. Dunl. Ad. Pr. 99. WAGES AFFECTED BY MISCONDUCT.--A seaman may forfeit his wages by gross misconduct; and if not forfeited, he may be liable to have a deduction made from them, for any damage caused to the owner by such misconduct. To create a forfeiture, his misbehavior must be gross and aggravated.[216] A single act of disobedience, or a single neglect of duty, will not deprive him of his wages.[217] A refusal to do duty in a moment of high excitement caused by punishment will not forfeit wages, unless followed by obstinate perseverance in such refusal.[218] Where _drunkenness_ is habitual and gross, so as to create a general incapacity to perform duty, it is a ground of forfeiture of wages. But occasional acts of drunkenness, if the seaman in other respects performs his duty, will not deprive him of his wages.[219] In this, as in all cases of neglect, disobedience, or wilful misconduct, which do not create a forfeiture, a deduction may be made if the owner has suffered any loss.[220] [216] 4 Mason, 84. Bee, 148. [217] 4 Mason, 84. [218] Do. [219] 2 Hagg. 2. 4 Mason, 541. [220] 4 Mason, 541. I Sumner, 384. Bee, 237. 2 Hagg. 420. Gilpin, 140. 1 Pet. Ad. 168. In one instance a forfeiture of one half of a seaman's wages was decreed, in consequence of his striking the master. He did not forfeit the whole, because he had been otherwise punished.[221] [221] Bee. 184. If the seaman is imprisoned for misconduct, he does not forfeit the wages that accrued during his confinement, nor, what amounts to the same thing, is he bound to pay those of a person hired in his place during his imprisonment.[222] [222] Gilpin, 83, 140, 33. Ware, 9. If the crime of a seaman is against the laws of the United States, and too great for the master's authority to punish, he must be confined and brought home to trial. But this does not forfeit his wages, though any loss or damage to the owner may be deducted.[223] [223] 1 Pet. Ad. 168. In all cases of forfeiture of wages for misconduct, it is only the wages due at the time of the misconduct that are lost. The wages subsequently earned are not affected by any previous misbehavior.[224] [224] 4 Mason, 84. If a seaman or officer is evidently incapable of doing the duty he shipped for, he may be put upon other duty, and a reasonable deduction may be made from his wages.[225] [225] Ware, 109. WAGES AFFECTED BY IMPRISONMENT.--If a seaman is imprisoned by a warrant from a judge or justice of the peace, within the limits of the United States, for desertion or refusal to render himself on board, he is liable to pay the cost of his commitment and support in jail, as well as the wages of any person hired in his place.[226] So, if a seaman is imprisoned in a foreign port by the authorities of the place for a breach of their laws, the costs and loss to the owner may be deducted from his wages; but not so if he is imprisoned at the request of the master.[227] The right of the master to imprison at all is a doubtful one, and dangerous of exercise; and if he does resort to it, he can never charge the expenses to the seamen, nor deduct their wages during imprisonment.[228] [226] Gilpin, 223. [227] Gilpin, 223. [228] Ware, 18, 503, Gilpin, 83, 233. WAGES AFFECTED BY CAPTURE.--If a neutral ship is captured, it is the right and duty of the seamen to remain by the vessel until the case is finally settled.[229] If she is liberated, they are then entitled to their wages for the whole voyage; and if freight is decreed, they are entitled to their wages for as much of the voyage as freight is given.[230] And if at any future time the owners recover the vessel, or her value, upon appeal or by treaty, they are liable for wages.[231] In order to secure his wages in these cases, the seaman must remain by the vessel until her sale or condemnation, and the master cannot oblige him to take his discharge.[232] The condemnation or sale of the vessel puts an end to his contract. If he leaves before the condemnation or sale, with the master's consent, he does not lose his chance of recovering his wages.[233] Even if the vessel is condemned, and the owner never recovers the vessel or its value, yet the seaman is entitled to his wages up to the last port of delivery, and for half the time she lay there.[234] [229] 2 Sumner, 443. 1 Pet. Ad. 128. [230] 2 Gall. 178. 2 Sumner, 443. [231] 3 Mason, 161. [232] 1 Mason, 45. [233] 1 Mason, 45. [234] 1 Pet. Ad. 203. WAGES AFFECTED BY LOSS OF VESSEL OR INTERRUPTION OF VOYAGE.--If a vessel meets with a disaster, it is the duty of the crew to remain by her so long as they can do it with safety, and to exert themselves to the utmost of their ability to save as much as possible of the vessel and cargo.[235] If they abandon the vessel unnecessarily, they forfeit all their wages; and if their leaving was necessary and justifiable, yet they lose their wages except up to the last port of delivery and for half the time the vessel was lying there, or for so long as she was engaged with the outward cargo.[236] This rule may seem hard, but its object is to secure the services of the crew in case of a disaster. If by their exertions any parts of the vessel or cargo are saved, they are entitled to wages, and an extra sum for salvage.[237] If the vessel is abandoned and nothing is saved, they lose their wages, except up to the last port of delivery and for half the time the vessel was lying there.[238] [235] Ware, 49. 1 Pet. 204. [236] Pet. C. C. 182. 3 Sumner, 286. [237] Ware, 49. Gilpin, 79. 2 Mason, 319. I Hagg. 227. [238] 2 Mason, 329. 1 Pet. Ad. 204, 130; 2 do. 391. 11 Mass. 545. The general rule is, that a seaman's wages are secure to him whenever the vessel has earned any freight, whatever may afterwards happen. And a vessel earns freight at every port where she delivers any cargo. For the benefit of seamen a vessel is held to earn freight whenever she goes to a port under a contract for freight, though she go in ballast.[239] A seaman also secures his wages wherever the ship might have earned freight but for the agreement or other act of the owner.[240] If a vessel is on a trading voyage from port to port, and is lost on the homeward passage, wages would probably be allowed for the outward passage, and for half the time she was engaged in trading with the old or new cargoes; the trading and going from port to port being considered the same as though she had been lying in port all the time, and discharging and receiving cargo. Or else, wages would be given up to the last port at which she took in any return cargo, and for half the time she was lying there.[241] [239] 2 Mason, 319. 1 Pet. Ad. 207. [240] 3 Sumner, 286. 2 Mason, 319. 2 Hagg. 158. [241] Pet. C. C. 182. 2 Pet. Ad. 390. These rules apply only to cases where the voyage is broken up by inevitable accidents, as by perils of the seas, capture, war or superior force. If the voyage is broken up by the fault of the seamen, they lose all their wages. If, on the other hand, the seamen are compelled to leave, or the voyage is broken up by the fault of the master or owner, as by cruel treatment, want of provisions, or the like, the crew would be justly entitled to wages for the whole voyage contracted for. If the vessel is sold, or the voyage altered or abandoned by the master or owner, not from inevitable necessity, but for their own interest and convenience, then the crew are entitled, by statute, to wages for all the time they were on board, and two months' extra pay.[242] And, by the general law, they would always receive some extra wages as a compensation for the loss of the voyage, and as a means of supporting themselves and procuring a passage home; or, perhaps, full wages for the voyage.[243] [242] Act 1803, ch. 62, §3. [243] 2 Pet. Ad. 264. Bee, 48. 2 Gall. 182. 3 Johns. R. 518. WAGES ON AN ILLEGAL VOYAGE.--A seaman has no remedy for his wages upon an illegal voyage; as, for instance, in the slave trade.[244] Wages have, however, been allowed, where it was proved that the seaman was innocent of all knowledge of, or participation in, the illegal voyage.[245] [244] 9 Wheat. 409. 6 Rob. 207. 2 Mason, 58. Edw. 35. [245] 9 Wheat. 409. WAGES AFFECTED BY DEATH OR DISABILITY.--If a seaman dies during the voyage, wages are to be paid up to the time of his death.[246] A seaman is entitled to all his wages during sickness, and during any time he was disabled from performing duty. But if his sickness or disability is brought on by his own fault, as by vice or wilful misconduct, a deduction may be made for the loss of his services.[247] So, where the death of a seaman was caused by his own unjustifiable and wrongful acts, his wages were held forfeited.[248] If a seaman, at the time he ships, is laboring under a disease which incapacitates or is likely to incapacitate him during the voyage, and he conceals the same, no wages will be allowed him, or a deduction will be made from them, according to the nature of the case.[249] If, in consequence of sickness, a seaman is left at a foreign port, he is still entitled to wages for the whole voyage.[250] [246] Bee, 254, 441. [247] 1 Pet. Ad. 142, 138. [248] Do. 142. [249] 2 Pet. Ad. 263. [250] Bee, 414. 2 Gall. 46. 1 Pet. Ad. 117. CHAPTER XII. SEAMEN--CONCLUDED. Recovery of wages. Interest on wages. Salvage. RECOVERY OF WAGES.--A seaman has a threefold remedy for his wages: first, against the master; secondly, against the owners; and, thirdly, against the ship itself and the freight earned.[251] He may pursue any one of these, or he may pursue them all at the same time in courts of admiralty. He has what is called a _lien_ upon the ship for his wages; that is, he has a right, at any time, to seize the vessel by a process of law, and retain it until his claim is paid, or otherwise decided upon by the court. This lien does not cease upon the sailing of the ship on another voyage; and the vessel may be taken notwithstanding there is a new master and different owners.[252] A seaman does not lose his lien upon the ship by lapse of time. He may take the ship whenever he finds her; though he must not allow a long time to elapse if he has had any opportunity of enforcing his claim, lest it should be considered a stale demand. In common law courts a suit cannot be brought for wages after six years have expired since they became due. This is not the case in courts of admiralty.[253] [251] Bee, 254. 2 Sumner, 443. 2 Gall. 398. [252] 2 Sumner, 443. 5 Pet. R. 675. [253] 2 Gall. 477. Paine C. C. 180. 3 Mason, 91. The lien of the seaman for wages takes precedence of every other lien or claim upon the vessel.[254] The seaman's wages must be first paid, even if they take up the whole value of the ship or freight. The wreck of a ship is bound for the wages, and the rule in admiralty is, that a seaman's claim on the ship is good so long as there is a plank of her left.[255] If, after capture and condemnation, the ship itself is not restored, but the owners are indemnified in money, the seaman's lien attaches to such proceeds.[256] [254] Ware, 134, 41. [255] Sumner, 50. 1 Ware, 41. [256] 5 Pet. R. 675. Besides this lien upon the ship, the seaman has also a lien upon the freight earned, and upon the cargo.[257] He may also sue the owner or master, or both, personally. They are, however, answerable _personally_ only for the wages earned while the ship was in their own hands.[258] But a suit may be brought against the _ship_ after she has changed owners.[259] [257] Ware, 134. 5 Pet. R. 675. [258] 11 Johns. 72. 6 Mass. 300; 8 do. 483. [259] 5 Pet. R. 675. 2 Sumner, 443. A seaman does not lose his lien upon the vessel by taking an order upon the owner.[260] [260] Ware, 185. After a vessel is abandoned to the underwriters, they become liable for the seamen's wages, from the time of the abandonment.[261] [261] 4 Mason, 196. If, at the end of the voyage, the crew are discharged and not retained to unload, their wages are due immediately;[262] but they cannot sue in admiralty until ten days after the day of discharge.[263] If they are retained to unload, then the owner is allowed ten days from the time the cargo is fully discharged. If, however, the vessel is about to proceed to sea before the ten days will elapse, or before the cargo will be unloaded, the seaman may attach the vessel immediately.[264] If the owner retains his crew while the cargo is unloading, he must unload it within a reasonable time. Fifteen working days has frequently been held a reasonable time for unloading, and the ten days have been allowed to run from that time.[265] [262] Ware, 458. Dunl. Ad. Pr. 99. 1 Pet. Ad 165, 210. [263] Act 1790, ch. 56, §6. [264] Do. [265] 1 Pet. Ad. 165. Abb. Shipp. 456, n. The longest time allowed by law for unloading vessels is twenty days, if over 300 tons, and ten days, if under that tonnage. Probably seamen would not be held bound to the vessel for a longer time than is thus allowed by law for unloading. INTEREST ON WAGES.--In suits for seamen's wages, interest is allowed from the time of the demand; and if no demand is proved, then from the time of the commencement of the suit.[266] [266] 2 Gall. 45. SALVAGE.--If a vessel is picked up at sea abandoned, or in distress, and any of the crew of the vessel which falls in with her go on board, and are the means of saving her, or of bringing her into port, they are entitled to salvage.[267] In this case, all the crew who are ready and willing to engage in the service are entitled to a share of the reward, although they may not have gone on board the wreck.[268] The reason is, that where all are ready to go, and a selection is made, there would be injustice and favoritism in allowing any one the privilege more than another. Besides, those who remain have an extra duty to perform in consequence of the others having gone on board the wreck.[269] [267] Ware, 477. 1 Pet. Ad. 306. [268] Ware, 477. 2 Pet. Ad. 281. [269] 2 Dodson, 132. Crews are not ordinarily entitled to salvage for services performed on board their own vessel, whatever may have been their perils or hardships, or the gallantry of their services in saving ship and cargo;[270] for some degree of extra exertion to meet perils and accidents, is within the scope of a seaman's duty. In case of shipwreck, however, where, by the general law, wages are forfeited, the court will allow salvage, considering it as in the nature of wages due. In one instance salvage was refused to a part of a crew who rescued the ship from the rest who had mutinied; for this was held to be no more than their duty.[271] [270] 10 Pet. R. 108. 1 Hagg. 227. [271] 2 Dods. 14. Yet seamen may entitle themselves to salvage for services performed on board their own vessel, if clearly beyond the line of their regular duty; as, when the crew rise and rescue the vessel from the enemy after she has been taken.[272] So, where a ship was abandoned at sea, and one or two men voluntarily remained behind, and by great exertions brought her into port.[273] If an apprentice is a salvor, he, and not his master, is entitled to the salvage.[274] If one set of men go on board a wreck, but fall into distress and are relieved by others, they do not lose their claim for salvage, but each set of salvors shares according to the merit of its services. If the second set take advantage of the necessity and distress of the first salvors to impose terms upon them, as, that they shall give up all claim for salvage, such conditions will not be regarded by the court.[275] [272] 1 Pet. Ad. 306. [273] 2 Cr. 240. 1 Pet. Ad. 48. [274] 2 Cr. 240. 2 Pet. Ad. 282. [275] 1 Sumner, 400. 
10694	----	SEA-POWER AND OTHER STUDIES BY ADMIRAL SIR CYPRIAN BRIDGE, G.C.B. PREFACE The essays collected in this volume are republished in the hope that they may be of some use to those who are interested in naval history. The aim has been to direct attention to certain historical occurrences and conditions which the author ventures to think have been often misunderstood. An endeavour has been made to show the continuity of the operation of sea-power throughout history, and the importance of recognising this at the present day. In some cases specially relating to our navy at different periods a revision of the more commonly accepted conclusions--formed, it is believed, on imperfect knowledge--is asked for. It is also hoped that the intimate connection between naval history in the strict sense and military history in the strict sense has been made apparent, and likewise the fact that both are in reality branches of the general history of a nation and not something altogether distinct from and outside it. In a collection of essays on kindred subjects some repetitions are inevitable, but it is believed that they will be found present only to a moderate extent in the following pages. My nephew, Mr. J. S. C. Bridge, has very kindly seen the book through the press. _June_ 1910. CONTENTS I. SEA-POWER. II. THE COMMAND OF THE SEA. III. WAR AND ITS CHIEF LESSONS. IV. THE HISTORICAL RELATIONS BETWEEN THE NAVY AND THE MERCHANT SERVICE. V. FACTS AND FANCIES ABOUT THE PRESS-GANG. VI. PROJECTED INVASIONS OF THE BRITISH ISLES. VII. OVER-SEA RAIDS AND RAIDS ON LAND. VIII. QUEEN ELIZABETH AND HER SEAMEN. IX. NELSON: THE CENTENARY OF TRAFALGAR. X. THE SHARE OF THE FLEET IN THE DEFENCE OF THE EMPIRE. XI. NAVAL STRATEGY AND TACTICS AT THE TIME OF TRAFALGAR. XII. THE SUPPLY AND COMMUNICATIONS OF A FLEET. INDEX. Ten of the essays included in this volume first appeared in the _Encyclopoedia_Britannica_, the _Times_, the _Morning_Post_, the _National_Review_, the _Nineteenth_Century_and_After_, the _Cornhill_Magazine_, and the _Naval_Annual_. The proprietors of those publications have courteously given me permission to republish them here. Special mention must be made of my obligation to the proprietors of the _Encyclopoedia_Britannica_ for allowing me to reproduce the essays on 'Sea-Power' and 'The Command of the Sea.' They are the owners of the copyright of both essays, and their courtesy to me is the more marked because they are about to republish them themselves in the forthcoming edition of the _Encyclopoedia_. The paper on 'Naval Strategy and Tactics at the Time of Trafalgar' was read at the Institute of Naval Architects, and that on 'The Supply and Communications of a Fleet' at the Hong-Kong United Service Institution. I SEA-POWER[1] [Footnote 1: Written in 1899. (_Encyclopoedia_Britannica_.)] Sea-power is a term used to indicate two distinct, though cognate things. The affinity of these two and the indiscriminate manner in which the term has been applied to each have tended to obscure its real significance. The obscurity has been deepened by the frequency with which the term has been confounded with the old phrase, 'Sovereignty of the sea,' and the still current expression, 'Command of the sea.' A discussion--etymological, or even archæological in character--of the term must be undertaken as an introduction to the explanation of its now generally accepted meaning. It is one of those compound words in which a Teutonic and a Latin (or Romance) element are combined, and which are easily formed and become widely current when the sea is concerned. Of such are 'sea-coast,' 'sea-forces' (the 'land- and sea-forces' used to be a common designation of what we now call the 'Army and Navy'), 'sea-service,' 'sea-serpent,' and 'sea-officer' (now superseded by 'naval officer'). The term in one form is as old as the fifteenth century. Edward III, in commemoration of the naval victory of Sluys, coined gold 'nobles' which bore on one side his effigy 'crowned, standing in a large ship, holding in one hand a sword and in the other a shield.' An anonymous poet, who wrote in the reign of Henry VI, says of this coin: For four things our noble showeth to me, King, ship, and sword, and _power_of_the_sea_. Even in its present form the term is not of very recent date. Grote [2] speaks of 'the conversion of Athens from a land-power into a sea-power.' In a lecture published in 1883, but probably delivered earlier, the late Sir J. R. Seeley says that 'commerce was swept out of the Mediterranean by the besom of the Turkish sea-power.'[3] The term also occurs in vol. xviii. of the 'Encyclopædia Britannica,' published in 1885. At p. 574 of that volume (art. Persia) we are told that Themistocles was 'the founder of the Attic sea-power.' The sense in which the term is used differs in these extracts. In the first it means what we generally call a 'naval power'--that is to say, a state having a considerable navy in contradistinction to a 'military power,' a state with a considerable army but only a relatively small navy. In the last two extracts it means all the elements of the naval strength of the state referred to; and this is the meaning that is now generally, and is likely to be exclusively, attached to the term owing to the brilliant way in which it has been elucidated by Captain A. T. Mahan of the United States Navy in a series of remarkable works.[4] The double use of the term is common in German, though in that language both parts of the compound now in use are Teutonic. One instance out of many may be cited from the historian Adolf Holm.[5] He says[6] that Athens, being in possession of a good naval port, could become '_eine_bedeutende_ _Seemacht_,' i.e. an important naval power. He also says[7] that Gelon of Syracuse, besides a large army (_Heer_), had '_eine_ _bedeutende_Seemacht_,' meaning a considerable navy. The term, in the first of the two senses, is old in German, as appears from the following, extracted from Zedler's 'Grosses Universal Lexicon,' vol. xxxvi:[8] 'Seemachten, Seepotenzen, Latin. _summae_ _potestates_mari_potentes_.' 'Seepotenzen' is probably quite obsolete now. It is interesting as showing that German no more abhors Teuto-Latin or Teuto-Romance compounds than English. We may note, as a proof of the indeterminate meaning of the expression until his own epoch-making works had appeared, that Mahan himself in his earliest book used it in both senses. He says,[9] 'The Spanish Netherlands ceased to be a sea-power.' He alludes[10] to the development of a nation as a 'sea-power,' and[11] to the inferiority of the Confederate States 'as a sea-power.' Also,[12] he remarks of the war of the Spanish Succession that 'before it England was one of the sea-powers, after it she was _the_ sea-power without any second.' In all these passages, as appears from the use of the indefinite article, what is meant is a naval power, or a state in possession of a strong navy. The other meaning of the term forms the general subject of his writings above enumerated. In his earlier works Mahan writes 'sea power' as two words; but in a published letter of the 19th February 1897, he joins them with a hyphen, and defends this formation of the term and the sense in which he uses it. We may regard him as the virtual inventor of the term in its more diffused meaning, for--even if it had been employed by earlier writers in that sense--it is he beyond all question who has given it general currency. He has made it impossible for anyone to treat of sea-power without frequent reference to his writings and conclusions. [Footnote 2: _Hist._of_Greece_, v. p. 67, published in 1849, but with preface dated 1848.] [Footnote 3: _Expansion_of_England_, p. 89.] [Footnote 4: _Influence_of_Sea-power_on_History_, published 1890; _Influence_of_Sea-power_on_the_French_Revolution_and_Empire_, 2 vols. 1892; _Nelson:_the_Embodiment_of_the_Sea-power_of_Great_ _Britain_, 2 vols. 1897.] [Footnote 5: _Griechische_Geschichte_. Berlin, 1889.] [Footnote 6: _Ibid_. ii. p. 37.] [Footnote 7: _Ibid_. ii. p. 91.] [Footnote 8: Leipzig und Halle, 1743.] [Footnote 9: _Influence_of_Sea-power_on_History_, p. 35.] [Footnote 10: _Ibid_. p. 42.] [Footnote 11: _Ibid_. p. 43.] [Footnote 12: _Ibid_. p. 225.] There is something more than mere literary interest in the fact that the term in another language was used more than two thousand years ago. Before Mahan no historian--not even one of those who specially devoted themselves to the narration of naval occurrences--had evinced a more correct appreciation of the general principles of naval warfare than Thucydides. He alludes several times to the importance of getting command of the sea. This country would have been saved some disasters and been less often in peril had British writers--taken as guides by the public--possessed the same grasp of the true principles of defence as Thucydides exhibited. One passage in his history is worth quoting. Brief as it is, it shows that on the subject of sea-power he was a predecessor of Mahan. In a speech in favour of prosecuting the war, which he puts into the mouth of Pericles, these words occur:-- _oi_meu_ _gar_ouch_exousiu_allaeu_autilabeiu_amachei_aemiu_de_esti_ _gae_pollae_kai_eu_uaesois_kai_kat_aepeirou_mega_gar_ _to_tes_thalassaes_kratos_. The last part of this extract, though often translated 'command of the sea,' or 'dominion of the sea,' really has the wider meaning of sea-power, the 'power of the sea' of the old English poet above quoted. This wider meaning should be attached to certain passages in Herodotus,[13] which have been generally interpreted 'commanding the sea,' or by the mere titular and honorific 'having the dominion of the sea.' One editor of Herodotus, Ch. F. Baehr, did, however, see exactly what was meant, for, with reference to the allusion to Polycrates, he says, _classe_maximum_valuit_. This is perhaps as exact a definition of sea-power as could be given in a sentence. [Footnote 13: _Herodotus_, iii. 122 in two places; v.83.] It is, however, impossible to give a definition which would be at the same time succinct and satisfactory. To say that 'sea-power' means the sum-total of the various elements that go to make up the naval strength of a state would be in reality to beg the question. Mahan lays down the 'principal conditions affecting the sea-power of nations,' but he does not attempt to give a concise definition of it. Yet no one who has studied his works will find it difficult to understand what it indicates. Our present task is to put readers in possession of the means of doing this. The best, indeed--as Mahan has made us see--the only effective way of attaining this object is to treat the matter historically. Whatever date we may agree to assign to the formation of the term itself, the idea--as we have seen--is as old as history. It is not intended to give a condensed history of sea-power, but rather an analysis of the idea and what it contains, illustrating this analysis with examples from history ancient and modern. It is important to know that it is not something which originated in the middle of the seventeenth century, and having seriously affected history in the eighteenth, ceased to have weight till Captain Mahan appeared to comment on it in the last decade of the nineteenth. With a few masterly touches Mahan, in his brief allusion to the second Punic war, has illustrated its importance in the struggle between Rome and Carthage. What has to be shown is that the principles which he has laid down in that case, and in cases much more modern, are true and have been true always and everywhere. Until this is perceived there is much history which cannot be understood, and yet it is essential to our welfare as a maritime people that we should understand it thoroughly. Our failure to understand it has more than once brought us, if not to the verge of destruction, at any rate within a short distance of serious disaster. SEA-POWER IN ANCIENT TIMES The high antiquity of decisive naval campaigns is amongst the most interesting features of international conflicts. Notwithstanding the much greater frequency of land wars, the course of history has been profoundly changed more often by contests on the water. That this has not received the notice it deserved is true, and Mahan tells us why. 'Historians generally,' he says, 'have been unfamiliar with the conditions of the sea, having as to it neither special interest nor special knowledge; and the profound determining influence of maritime strength on great issues has consequently been overlooked.' Moralising on that which might have been is admittedly a sterile process; but it is sometimes necessary to point, if only by way of illustration, to a possible alternative. As in modern times the fate of India and the fate of North America were determined by sea-power, so also at a very remote epoch sea-power decided whether or not Hellenic colonisation was to take root in, and Hellenic culture to dominate, Central and Northern Italy as it dominated Southern Italy, where traces of it are extant to this day. A moment's consideration will enable us to see how different the history of the world would have been had a Hellenised city grown and prospered on the Seven Hills. Before the Tarquins were driven out of Rome a Phocoean fleet was encountered (537 B.C.) off Corsica by a combined force of Etruscans and Phoenicians, and was so handled that the Phocoeans abandoned the island and settled on the coast of Lucania.[14] The enterprise of their navigators had built up for the Phoenician cities and their great off-shoot Carthage, a sea-power which enabled them to gain the practical sovereignty of the sea to the west of Sardinia and Sicily. The control of these waters was the object of prolonged and memorable struggles, for on it--as the result showed--depended the empire of the world. From very remote times the consolidation and expansion, from within outwards, of great continental states have had serious consequences for mankind when they were accompanied by the acquisition of a coast-line and the absorption of a maritime population. We shall find that the process loses none of its importance in recent years. 'The ancient empires,' says the historian of Greece, Ernst Curtius, 'as long as no foreign elements had intruded into them, had an invincible horror of the water.' When the condition, which Curtius notices in parenthesis, arose, the 'horror' disappeared. There is something highly significant in the uniformity of the efforts of Assyria, Egypt, Babylon, and Persia to get possession of the maritime resources of Phoenicia. Our own immediate posterity will, perhaps, have to reckon with the results of similar efforts in our own day. It is this which gives a living interest to even the very ancient history of sea-power, and makes the study of it of great practical importance to us now. We shall see, as we go on, how the phenomena connected with it reappear with striking regularity in successive periods. Looked at in this light, the great conflicts of former ages are full of useful, indeed necessary, instruction. [Footnote 14: Mommsen, _Hist._Rome_, English trans., i. p. 153.] In the first and greatest of the contests waged by the nations of the East against Europe--the Persian wars--sea-power was the governing factor. Until Persia had expanded to the shores of the Levant the European Greeks had little to fear from the ambition of the great king. The conquest of Egypt by Cambyses had shown how formidable that ambition could be when supported by an efficient navy. With the aid of the naval forces of the Phoenician cities the Persian invasion of Greece was rendered comparatively easy. It was the naval contingents from Phoenicia which crushed the Ionian revolt. The expedition of Mardonius, and still more that of Datis and Artaphernes, had indicated the danger threatening Greece when the master of a great army was likewise the master of a great navy. Their defeat at Marathon was not likely to, and as a matter of fact did not, discourage the Persians from further attempts at aggression. As the advance of Cambyses into Egypt had been flanked by a fleet, so also was that of Xerxes into Greece. By the good fortune sometimes vouch-safed to a people which, owing to its obstinate opposition to, or neglect of, a wise policy, scarcely deserves it, there appeared at Athens an influential citizen who understood all that was meant by the term sea-power. Themistocles saw more clearly than any of his contemporaries that, to enable Athens to play a leading part in the Hellenic world, she needed above all things a strong navy. 'He had already in his eye the battle-field of the future.' He felt sure that the Persians would come back, and come with such forces that resistance in the open field would be out of the question. One scene of action remained--the sea. Persuaded by him the Athenians increased their navy, so that of the 271 vessels comprising the Greek fleet at Artemisium, 147 had been provided by Athens, which also sent a large reinforcement after the first action. Though no one has ever surpassed Themistocles in the faculty of correctly estimating the importance of sea-power, it was understood by Xerxes as clearly as by him that the issue of the war depended upon naval operations. The arrangements made under the Persian monarch's direction, and his very personal movements, show that this was his view. He felt, and probably expressed the feeling, exactly as--in the war of Arnerican Independence--Washington did in the words, 'whatever efforts are made by the land armies, the navy must have the casting vote in the present contest.' The decisive event was the naval action of Salamis. To have made certain of success, the Persians should have first obtained a command of the Ægean, as complete for all practical purposes as the French and English had of the sea generally in the war against Russia of 1854-56. The Persian sea-power was not equal to the task. The fleet of the great king was numerically stronger than that of the Greek allies; but it has been proved many times that naval efficiency does not depend on numerical superiority alone. The choice sections of the Persian fleet were the contingents of the Ionians and Phoenicians. The former were half-hearted or disaffected; whilst the latter were, at best, not superior in skill, experience, and valour to the Greek sailors. At Salamis Greece was saved not only from the ambition and vengeance of Xerxes, but also and for many centuries from oppression by an Oriental conqueror. Persia did not succeed against the Greeks, not because she had no sea-power, but because her sea-power, artificially built up, was inferior to that which was a natural element of the vitality of her foes. Ionia was lost and Greece in the end enslaved, because the quarrels of Greeks with Greeks led to the ruin of their naval states. The Peloponnesian was largely a naval war. The confidence of the Athenians in their sea-power had a great deal to do with its outbreak. The immediate occasion of the hostilities, which in time involved so many states, was the opportunity offered by the conflict between Corinth and Corcyra of increasing the sea-power of Athens. Hitherto the Athenian naval predominance had been virtually confined to the Ægean Sea. The Corcyræan envoy, who pleaded for help at Athens, dwelt upon the advantage to be derived by the Athenians from alliance with a naval state occupying an important situation 'with respect to the western regions towards which the views of the Athenians had for some time been directed.'[15] It was the 'weapon of her sea-power,' to adopt Mahan's phrase, that enabled Athens to maintain the great conflict in which she was engaged. Repeated invasions of her territory, the ravages of disease amongst her people, and the rising disaffection of her allies had been more than made up for by her predominance on the water. The scale of the subsequent Syracusan expedition showed how vigorous Athens still was down to the interruption of the war by the peace of Nicias. The great expedition just mentioned over-taxed her strength. Its failure brought about the ruin of the state. It was held by contemporaries, and has been held in our own day, that the Athenian defeat at Syracuse was due to the omission of the government at home to keep the force in Sicily properly supplied and reinforced. This explanation of failure is given in all ages, and should always be suspected. The friends of unsuccessful generals and admirals always offer it, being sure of the support of the political opponents of the administration. After the despatch of the supporting expedition under Demosthenes and Eurymedon, no further great reinforcement, as Nicias admitted, was possible. The weakness of Athens was in the character of the men who swayed the popular assemblies and held high commands. A people which remembered the administration of a Pericles, and yet allowed a Cleon or an Alcibiades to direct its naval and military policy, courted defeat. Nicias, notwithstanding the possession of high qualities, lacked the supreme virtue of a commander--firm resolution. He dared not face the obloquy consequent on withdrawal from an enterprise on which the popular hopes had been fixed; and therefore he allowed a reverse to be converted into an overwhelming disaster. 'The complete ruin of Athens had appeared, both to her enemies and to herself, impending and irreparable. But so astonishing, so rapid, and so energetic had been her rally, that [a year after Syracuse] she was found again carrying on a terrible struggle.'[16] Nevertheless her sea-power had indeed been ruined at Syracuse. Now she could wage war only 'with impaired resources and on a purely defensive system.' Even before Arginusæ it was seen that 'superiority of nautical skill had passed to the Peloponnesians and their allies.'[17] [Footnote 15: Thirwall, _Hist._Greece_, iii. p. 96.] [Footnote 16: Grote, _Hist._Greece_, v. p. 354.] [Footnote 17: _Ibid._ p. 503.] The great, occasionally interrupted, and prolonged contest between Rome and Carthage was a sustained effort on the part of one to gain and of the other to keep the control of the Western Mediterranean. So completely had that control been exercised by Carthage, that she had anticipated the Spanish commercial policy in America. The Romans were precluded by treaties from trading with the Carthaginian territories in Hispania, Africa, and Sardinia. Rome, as Mommsen tells us, 'was from the first a maritime city and, in the period of its vigour, never was so foolish or so untrue to its ancient traditions as wholly to neglect its war marine and to desire to be a mere continental power.' It may be that it was lust of wealth rather than lust of dominion that first prompted a trial of strength with Carthage. The vision of universal empire could hardly as yet have formed itself in the imagination of a single Roman. The area of Phoenician maritime commerce was vast enough both to excite jealousy and to offer vulnerable points to the cupidity of rivals. It is probable that the modern estimate of the sea-power of Carthage is much exaggerated. It was great by comparison, and of course overwhelmingly great when there were none but insignificant competitors to challenge it. Mommsen holds that, in the fourth and fifth centuries after the foundation of Rome, 'the two main competitors for the dominion of the Western waters' were Carthage and Syracuse. 'Carthage,' he says, 'had the preponderance, and Syracuse sank more and more into a second-rate naval power. The maritime importance of the Etruscans was wholly gone.... Rome itself was not exempt from the same fate; its own waters were likewise commanded by foreign fleets.' The Romans were for a long time too much occupied at home to take much interest in Mediterranean matters. The position of the Carthaginians in the western basin of the Mediterranean was very like that of the Portuguese long afterwards in India. The latter kept within reach of the sea; 'nor did their rule ever extend a day's march from their ships.'[18] 'The Carthaginians in Spain,' says Mommsen, 'made no effort to acquire the interior from the warlike native nations; they were content with the possession of the mines and of stations for traffic and for shell and other fisheries.' Allowance being made for the numbers of the classes engaged in administration, commerce, and supervision, it is nearly certain that Carthage could not furnish the crews required by both a great war-navy and a great mercantile marine. No one is surprised on finding that the land-forces of Carthage were composed largely of alien mercenaries. We have several examples from which we can infer a parallel, if not an identical, condition of her maritime resources. How, then, was the great Carthaginian carrying-trade provided for? The experience of more than one country will enable us to answer this question. The ocean trade of those off-shoots or dependencies of the United Kingdom, viz. the United States, Australasia, and India, is largely or chiefly conducted by shipping of the old country. So that of Carthage was largely conducted by old Phoenicians. These may have obtained a 'Carthaginian Register,' or the contemporary equivalent; but they could not all have been purely Carthaginian or Liby-Phoenician. This must have been the case even more with the war-navy. British India for a considerable time possessed a real and indeed highly efficient navy; but it was officered entirely and manned almost entirely by men from the 'old country.' Moreover, it was small. The wealth of India would have sufficed to furnish a larger material element; but, as the country could not supply the _personnel_, it would have been absurd to speak of the sea-power of India apart from that of England. As soon as the Romans chose to make the most of their natural resources the maritime predominance of Carthage was doomed. The artificial basis of the latter's sea-power would not enable it to hold out against serious and persistent assaults. Unless this is perceived it is impossible to understand the story of the Punic wars. Judged by every visible sign of strength, Carthage, the richer, the more enterprising, ethnically the more predominant amongst her neighbours, and apparently the more nautical, seemed sure to win in the great struggle with Rome which, by the conditions of the case, was to be waged largely on the water. Yet those who had watched the struggles of the Punic city with the Sicilian Greeks, and especially that with Agathocles, must have seen reason to cherish doubts concerning her naval strength. It was an anticipation of the case of Spain in the age of Philip II. As the great Elizabethan seamen discerned the defects of the Spanish naval establishment, so men at Rome discerned those of the Carthaginian. Dates in connection with this are of great significance. A comprehensive measure, with the object of 'rescuing their marine from its condition of impotence,' was taken by the Romans in the year 267 B.C. Four _quoestores_ _classici_--in modern naval English we may perhaps call them port-admirals--were nominated, and one was stationed at each of four ports. The objects of the Roman Senate, so Mommsen tells us, were very obvious. They were 'to recover their independence by sea, to cut off the maritime communications of Tarentum, to close the Adriatic against fleets coming from Epirus, and to emancipate themselves from Carthaginian supremacy.' Four years afterwards the first Punic war began. It was, and had to be, largely a naval contest. The Romans waged it with varying fortune, but in the end triumphed by means of their sea-power. 'The sea was the place where all great destinies were decided.'[19] The victory of Catulus over the Carthaginian fleet off the Ægatian Islands decided the war and left to the Romans the possession of Sicily and the power of possessing themselves of Sardinia and Corsica. It would be an interesting and perhaps not a barren investigation to inquire to what extent the decline of the mother states of Phoenicia, consequent on the campaigns of Alexander the Great, had helped to enfeeble the naval efficiency of the Carthaginian defences. One thing was certain. Carthage had now met with a rival endowed with natural maritime resources greater than her own. That rival also contained citizens who understood the true importance of sea-power. 'With a statesmanlike sagacity from which succeeding generations might have drawn a lesson, the leading men of the Roman Commonwealth perceived that all their coast-fortifications and coast-garrisons would prove inadequate unless the war-marine of the state were again placed on a footing that should command respect.'[20] It is a gloomy reflection that the leading men of our own great maritime country could not see this in 1860. A thorough comprehension of the events of the first Punic war enables us to solve what, until Mahan wrote, had been one of the standing enigmas of history, viz. Hannibal's invasion of Italy by land instead of by sea in the second Punic war. Mahan's masterly examination of this question has set at rest all doubts as to the reason of Hannibal's action.[21] The naval predominance in the western basin of the Mediterranean acquired by Rome had never been lost. Though modern historians, even those belonging to a maritime country, may have failed to perceive it, the Carthaginians knew well enough that the Romans were too strong for them on the sea. Though other forces co-operated to bring about the defeat of Carthage in the second Punic war, the Roman navy, as Mahan demonstrates, was the most important. As a navy, he tells us in words like those already quoted, 'acts on an element strange to most writers, as its members have been from time immemorial a strange race apart, without prophets of their own, neither themselves nor their calling understood, its immense determining influence on the history of that era, and consequently upon the history of the world, has been overlooked.' [Footnote 18: R. S. Whiteway, _Rise_of_the_Portuguese_Power_ _in_India_ p. 12. Westminster, 1899.] [Footnote 19: J. H. Burton, _Hist._of_Scotland_, 1873, vol. i. p. 318.] [Footnote 20: Mommsen, i. p. 427.] [Footnote 21: _Inf._on_Hist._, pp. 13-21.] The attainment of all but universal dominion by Rome was now only a question of time. 'The annihilation of the Carthaginian fleet had made the Romans masters of the sea.'[22] A lodgment had already been gained in Illyricum, and countries farther east were before long to be reduced to submission. A glance at the map will show that to effect this the command of the eastern basin of the Mediterranean, like that of the western, must be secured by the Romans. The old historic navies of the Greek and Phoenician states had declined. One considerable naval force there was which, though it could not have prevented, was strong enough to have delayed the Roman progress eastwards. This force belonged to Rhodes, which in the years immediately following the close of the second Punic war reached its highest point as a naval power.[23] Far from trying to obstruct the advance of the Romans the Rhodian fleet helped it. Hannibal, in his exile, saw the necessity of being strong on the sea if the East was to be saved from the grasp of his hereditary foe; but the resources of Antiochus, even with the mighty cooperation of Hannibal, were insufficient. In a later and more often-quoted struggle between East and West--that which was decided at Actium--sea-power was again seen to 'have the casting vote.' When the whole of the Mediterranean coasts became part of a single state the importance of the navy was naturally diminished; but in the struggles within the declining empire it rose again at times. The contest of the Vandal Genseric with Majorian and the African expedition of Belisarius--not to mention others--were largely influenced by the naval operations.[24] [Footnote 22: Schmitz, _Hist._Rome_, p. 256.] [Footnote 23: C. Torr, _Rhodes_in_Ancient_Times_, p. 40.] [Footnote 24: Gibbon, _Dec._and_Fall_, chaps. xxxvi. xli] SEA-POWER IN THE MIDDLE AGES A decisive event, the Mohammedan conquest of Northern Africa from Egypt westwards, is unintelligible until it is seen how great a part sea-power played in effecting it. Purely land expeditions, or expeditions but slightly supported from the sea, had ended in failure. The emperor at Constantinople still had at his disposal a fleet capable of keeping open the communications with his African province. It took the Saracens half a century (647-698 A.D.) to win 'their way along the coast of Africa as far as the Pillars of Hercules';[25] and, as Gibbon tells us, it was not till the Commander of the Faithful had prepared a great expedition, this time by sea as well as by land, that the Saracenic dominion was definitely established. It has been generally assumed that the Arabian conquerors who, within a few years of his death, spread the faith of Mohammed over vast regions, belonged to an essentially non-maritime race; and little or no stress has been laid on the extent to which they relied on naval support in prosecuting their conquests. In parts of Arabia, however, maritime enterprise was far from non-existent; and when the Mohammedan empire had extended outwards from Mecca and Medina till it embraced the coasts of various seas, the consequences to the neighbouring states were as serious as the rule above mentioned would lead us to expect that they would be. 'With the conquest of Syria and Egypt a long stretch of sea-board had come into the Saracenic power; and the creation and maintenance of a navy for the protection of the maritime ports as well as for meeting the enemy became a matter of vital importance. Great attention was paid to the manning and equipment of the fleet.'[26] At first the fleet was manned by sailors drawn from the Phoenician towns where nautical energy was not yet quite extinct; and later the crews were recruited from Syria, Egypt, and the coasts of Asia Minor. Ships were built at most of the Syrian and Egyptian ports, and also at Obolla and Bushire on the Persian Gulf,' whilst the mercantile marine and maritime trade were fostered and encouraged. The sea-power thus created was largely artificial. It drooped--as in similar cases--when the special encouragement was withdrawn. 'In the days of Arabian energy,' says Hallam, 'Constantinople was twice, in 668 and 716, attacked by great naval armaments.' The same authority believes that the abandonment of such maritime enterprises by the Saracens may be attributed to the removal of the capital from Damascus to Bagdad. The removal indicated a lessened interest in the affairs of the Mediterranean Sea, which was now left by the administration far behind. 'The Greeks in their turn determined to dispute the command of the sea,' with the result that in the middle of the tenth century their empire was far more secure from its enemies than under the first successors of Heraclius. Not only was the fall of the empire, by a rational reliance on sea-power, postponed for centuries, but also much that had been lost was regained. 'At the close of the tenth century the emperors of Constantinople possessed the best and greatest part' of Southern Italy, part of Sicily, the whole of what is now called the Balkan Peninsula, Asia Minor, with some parts of Syria and Armenia.[27] [Footnote 25: Hallam, _Mid._Ages_, chap. vi.] [Footnote 26: Ameer Ali, Syed, _Short_Hist._Saracens_, p. 442] [Footnote 27: Hallam, chap. vi.; Gibbon, chap. li.] Neglect of sea-power by those who can be reached by sea brings its own punishment. Whether neglected or not, if it is an artificial creation it is nearly sure to disappoint those who wield it when it encounters a rival power of natural growth. How was it possible for the Crusaders, in their various expeditions, to achieve even the transient success that occasionally crowned their efforts? How did the Christian kingdom of Jerusalem contrive to exist for more than three-quarters of a century? Why did the Crusades more and more become maritime expeditions? The answer to these questions is to be found in the decline of the Mohammedan naval defences and the rising enterprise of the seafaring people of the West. Venetians, Pisans, and Genoese transported crusading forces, kept open the communications of the places held by the Christians, and hampered the operations of the infidels. Even the great Saladin failed to discern the important alteration of conditions. This is evident when we look at the efforts of the Christians to regain the lost kingdom. Saladin 'forgot that the safety of Phoenicia lay in immunity from naval incursions, and that no victory on land could ensure him against an influx from beyond the sea.'[28] Not only were the Crusaders helped by the fleets of the maritime republics of Italy, they also received reinforcements by sea from western Europe and England, on the 'arrival of _Malik_Ankiltar_ (Richard Coeur de Lion) with twenty shiploads of fighting men and munitions of war.' [Footnote 28: Ameer Ali, Syed, pp. 359, 360.] Participation in the Crusades was not a solitary proof of the importance of the naval states of Italy. That they had been able to act effectively in the Levant may have been in some measure due to the weakening of the Mohammedans by the disintegration of the Seljukian power, the movements of the Moguls, and the confusion consequent on the rise of the Ottomans. However that may have been, the naval strength of those Italian states was great absolutely as well as relatively. Sismondi, speaking of Venice, Pisa, and Genoa, towards the end of the eleventh century, says 'these three cities had more vessels on the Mediterranean than the whole of Christendom besides.'[29] Dealing with a period two centuries later, he declares it 'difficult to comprehend how two simple cities could put to sea such prodigious fleets as those of Pisa and Genoa.' The difficulty disappears when we have Mahan's explanation. The maritime republics of Italy--like Athens and Rhodes in ancient, Catalonia in mediæval, and England and the Netherlands in more modern times--were 'peculiarly well fitted, by situation and resources, for the control of the sea by both war and commerce.' As far as the western Mediterranean was concerned, Genoa and Pisa had given early proofs of their maritime energy, and fixed themselves, in succession to the Saracens, in the Balearic Isles, Sardinia, and Corsica. Sea-power was the Themistoclean instrument with which they made a small state into a great one. [Footnote 29: _Ital._Republics_, English ed., p. 29.] A fertile source of dispute between states is the acquisition of territory beyond sea. As others have done before and since, the maritime republics of Italy quarrelled over this. Sea-power seemed, like Saturn, to devour its own children. In 1284, in a great sea-fight off Meloria, the Pisans were defeated by the Genoese with heavy loss, which, as Sismondi states, 'ruined the maritime power' of the former. From that time Genoa, transferring her activity to the Levant, became the rival of Venice, The fleets of the two cities in 1298 met near Cyprus in an encounter, said to be accidental, that began 'a terrible war which for seven years stained the Mediterranean with blood and consumed immense wealth.' In the next century the two republics, 'irritated by commercial quarrels'--like the English and Dutch afterwards--were again at war in the Levant. Sometimes one side, sometimes the other was victorious; but the contest was exhausting to both, and especially to Venice. Within a quarter of a century they were at war again. Hostilities lasted till the Genoese met with the crushing defeat of Chioggia. 'From this time,' says Hallam, 'Genoa never commanded the ocean with such navies as before; her commerce gradually went into decay; and the fifteenth century, the most splendid in the annals of Venice, is till recent times the most ignominious in those of Genoa.' Venice seemed now to have no naval rival, and had no fear that anyone could forbid the ceremony in which the Doge, standing in the bows of the _Bucentaur_, cast a ring into the Adriatic with the words, _Desponsamus_te,_Mare,_in_signum_veri_perpetuique_dominii_. The result of the combats at Chioggia, though fatal to it in the long-run, did not at once destroy the naval importance of Genoa. A remarkable characteristic of sea-power is the delusive manner in which it appears to revive after a great defeat. The Persian navy occasionally made a brave show afterwards; but in reality it had received at Salamis a mortal wound. Athens seemed strong enough on the sea after the catastrophe of Syracuse; but, as already stated, her naval power had been given there a check from which it never completely recovered. The navy of Carthage had had similar experience; and, in later ages, the power of the Turks was broken at Lepanto and that of Spain at Gravelines notwithstanding deceptive appearances afterwards. Venice was soon confronted on the sea by a new rival. The Turkish naval historian, Haji Khalifeh,[30] tells us that, 'After the taking of Constantinople, when they [the Ottomans] spread their conquests over land and sea, it became necessary to build ships and make armaments in order to subdue the fortresses and castles on the Rumelian and Anatolian shores, and in the islands of the Mediterranean.' Mohammed II established a great naval arsenal at Constantinople. In 1470 the Turks, 'for the first time, equipped a fleet with which they drove that of the Venetians out of the Grecian seas.'[31] The Turkish wars of Venice lasted a long time. In that which ended in 1503 the decline of the Venetians' naval power was obvious. 'The Mussulmans had made progress in naval discipline; the Venetian fleet could no longer cope with theirs.' Henceforward it was as an allied contingent of other navies that that of Venice was regarded as important. Dyer[32] quotes a striking passage from a letter of Æneas Sylvius, afterwards Pope Pius II, in which the writer affirms that, if the Venetians are defeated, Christendom will not control the sea any longer; for neither the Catalans nor the Genoese, without the Venetians, are equal to the Turks. [Footnote 30: _Maritime_Wars_of_the_Turks_, Mitchell's trans., p. 12.] [Footnote 31: Sismondi, p. 256.] [Footnote 32: _Hist._Europe_, i. p. 85.] SEA-POWER IN THE SIXTEENTH AND SEVENTEENTH CENTURIES The last-named people, indeed, exemplified once more the rule that a military state expanding to the sea and absorbing older maritime populations becomes a serious menace to its neighbours. Even in the fifteenth century Mohammed II had made an attack on Southern Italy; but his sea-power was not equal to the undertaking. Suleymân the Magnificent directed the Ottoman forces towards the West. With admirable strategic insight he conquered Rhodes, and thus freed himself from the danger of a hostile force on his flank. 'The centenary of the conquest of Constantinople was past, and the Turk had developed a great naval power besides annexing Egypt and Syria.'[33] The Turkish fleets, under such leaders as Khair-ad-din (Barbarossa), Piale, and Dragut, seemed to command the Mediterranean including its western basin; but the repulse at Malta in 1565 was a serious check, and the defeat at Lepanto in 1571 virtually put an end to the prospect of Turkish maritime dominion. The predominance of Portugal in the Indian Ocean in the early part of the sixteenth century had seriously diminished the Ottoman resources. The wealth derived from the trade in that ocean, the Persian Gulf, and the Red Sea, had supplied the Mohammedans with the sinews of war, and had enabled them to contend with success against the Christians in Europe. 'The main artery had been cut when the Portuguese took up the challenge of the Mohammedan merchants of Calicut, and swept their ships from the ocean.'[34] The sea-power of Portugal wisely employed had exercised a great, though unperceived, influence. Though enfeebled and diminishing, the Turkish navy was still able to act with some effect in the seventeenth century. Nevertheless, the sea-power of the Turks ceased to count as a factor of importance in the relations between great states. [Footnote 33: Seeley, _British_Policy_, i. p. 143.] [Footnote 34: Whiteway, p. 2.] In the meantime the state which had a leading share in winning the victory of Lepanto had been growing up in the West. Before the union of its crown with that of Castile and the formation of the Spanish monarchy, Aragon had been expanding till it reached the sea. It was united with Catalonia in the twelfth century, and it conquered Valencia in the thirteenth. Its long line of coast opened the way to an extensive and flourishing commerce; and an enterprising navy indemnified the nation for the scantiness of its territory at home by the important foreign conquests of Sardinia, Sicily, Naples, and the Balearic Isles. Amongst the maritime states of the Mediterranean Catalonia had been conspicuous. She was to the Iberian Peninsula much what Phoenicia had been to Syria. The Catalan navy had disputed the empire of the Mediterranean with the fleets of Pisa and Genoa. The incorporation of Catalonia with Aragon added greatly to the strength of that kingdom. The Aragonese kings were wise enough to understand and liberal enough to foster the maritime interests of their new possessions.[35] Their French and Italian neighbours were to feel, before long, the effect of this policy; and when the Spanish monarchy had been consolidated, it was felt not only by them, but by others also. The more Spanish dominion was extended in Italy, the more were the naval resources at the command of Spain augmented. Genoa became 'Spain's water-gate to Italy.... Henceforth the Spanish crown found in the Dorias its admirals; their squadron was permanently hired to the kings of Spain.' Spanish supremacy at sea was established at the expense of France.[36] The acquisition of a vast domain in the New World had greatly developed the maritime activity of Castile, and Spain was as formidable on the ocean as in the Mediterranean. After Portugal had been annexed the naval vessels of that country were added to the Spanish, and the great port of Lisbon became available as a place of equipment and as an additional base of operations for oceanic campaigns. The fusion of Spain and Portugal, says Seeley, 'produced a single state of unlimited maritime dominion.... Henceforth the whole New World belonged exclusively to Spain.' The story of the tremendous catastrophe--the defeat of the Armada--by which the decline of this dominion was heralded is well known. It is memorable, not only because of the harm it did to Spain, but also because it revealed the rise of another claimant to maritime pre-eminence--the English nation. The effects of the catastrophe were not at once visible. Spain still continued to look like the greatest power in the world; and, though the English seamen were seen to be something better than adventurous pirates--a character suggested by some of their recent exploits--few could have comprehended that they were engaged in building up what was to be a sea-power greater than any known to history. [Footnote 35: Prescott, _Ferdinand_and_Isabella_, Introd. sects. i. ii.] [Footnote 36: G. W. Prothero, in M. Hume's _Spain_, 1479-1788, p. 65.] They were carrying forward, not beginning the building of this. 'England,' says Sir J. K. Laughton, 'had always believed in her naval power, had always claimed the sovereignty of the Narrow Seas; and more than two hundred years before Elizabeth came to the throne, Edward III had testified to his sense of its importance by ordering a gold coinage bearing a device showing the armed strength and sovereignty of England based on the sea.'[37] It is impossible to make intelligible the course of the many wars which the English waged with the French in the Middle Ages unless the true naval position of the former is rightly appreciated. Why were Crecy, Poitiers, Agincourt--not to mention other combats--fought, not on English, but on continental soil? Why during the so-called 'Hundred Years' War' was England in reality the invader and not the invaded? We of the present generation are at last aware of the significance of naval defence, and know that, if properly utilised, it is the best security against invasion that a sea-surrounded state can enjoy. It is not, however, commonly remembered that the same condition of security existed and was properly valued in mediæval times. The battle of Sluys in 1340 rendered invasion of England as impracticable as did that of La Hogue in 1692, that of Quiberon Bay in 1759, and that of Trafalgar in 1805; and it permitted, as did those battles, the transport of troops to the continent to support our allies in wars which, had we not been strong at sea, would have been waged on the soil of our own country. Our early continental wars, therefore, are proofs of the long-established efficiency of our naval defences. Notwithstanding the greater attention paid, within the last dozen years or so, to naval affairs, it is doubtful if the country generally even yet recognises the extent to which its security depends upon a good fleet as fully as our ancestors did nearly seven centuries ago. The narrative of our pre-Elizabethan campaigns is interesting merely as a story; and, when told--as for instance D. Hannay has told it in the introductory chapters of his 'Short History of the Royal Navy'--it will be found instructive and worthy of careful study at the present day. Each of the principal events in our early naval campaigns may be taken as an illustration of the idea conveyed by the term 'sea-power,' and of the accuracy with which its meaning was apprehended at the time. To take a very early case, we may cite the defeat of Eustace the Monk by Hubert de Burgh in 1217. Reinforcements and supplies had been collected at Calais for conveyance to the army of Prince Louis of France and the rebel barons who had been defeated at Lincoln. The reinforcements tried to cross the Channel under the escort of a fleet commanded by Eustace. Hubert de Burgh, who had stoutly held Dover for King John, and was faithful to the young Henry III, heard of the enemy's movements. 'If these people land,' said he, 'England is lost; let us therefore boldly meet them.' He reasoned in almost the same words as Raleigh about four centuries afterwards, and undoubtedly 'had grasped the true principles of the defence of England.' He put to sea and defeated his opponent. The fleet on which Prince Louis and the rebellious barons had counted was destroyed; and with it their enterprise. 'No more admirably planned, no more fruitful battle has been fought by Englishmen on water.'[38] As introductory to a long series of naval operations undertaken with a like object, it has deserved detailed mention here. [Footnote 37: _Armada_, Introd. (Navy Records Society).] [Footnote 38: Hannay, p. 7.] The sixteenth century was marked by a decided advance in both the development and the application of sea-power. Previously its operation had been confined to the Mediterranean or to coast waters outside it. Spanish or Basque seamen--by their proceedings in the English Channel--had proved the practicability of, rather than been engaged in, ocean warfare. The English, who withstood them, were accustomed to seas so rough, to seasons so uncertain, and to weather so boisterous, that the ocean had few terrors for them. All that was wanting was a sufficient inducement to seek distant fields of action and a development of the naval art that would permit them to be reached. The discovery of the New World supplied the first; the consequently increased length of voyages and of absence from the coast led to the second. The world had been moving onwards in other things as well as in navigation. Intercommunication was becoming more and more frequent. What was done by one people was soon known to others. It is a mistake to suppose that, because the English had been behindhand in the exploration of remote regions, they were wanting in maritime enterprise. The career of the Cabots would of itself suffice to render such a supposition doubtful. The English had two good reasons for postponing voyages to and settlement in far-off lands. They had their hands full nearer home; and they thoroughly, and as it were by instinct, understood the conditions on which permanent expansion must rest. They wanted to make sure of the line of communication first. To effect this a sea-going marine of both war and commerce and, for further expansion, stations on the way were essential. The chart of the world furnishes evidence of the wisdom and the thoroughness of their procedure. Taught by the experience of the Spaniards and the Portuguese, when unimpeded by the political circumstances of the time, and provided with suitable equipment, the English displayed their energy in distant seas. It now became simply a question of the efficiency of sea-power. If this was not a quality of that of the English, then their efforts were bound to fail; and, more than this, the position of their country, challenging as it did what was believed to be the greatest of maritime states, would have been altogether precarious. The principal expeditions now undertaken were distinguished by a characteristic peculiar to the people, and not to be found in connection with the exploring or colonising activity of most other great nations even down to our own time. They were really unofficial speculations in which, if the Government took part at all, it was for the sake of the profit expected and almost, if not exactly, like any private adventurer. The participation of the Government, nevertheless, had an aspect which it is worth while to note. It conveyed a hint--and quite consciously--to all whom it might concern that the speculations were 'under-written' by the whole sea-power of England. The forces of more than one state had been used to protect its maritime trade from the assaults of enemies in the Mediterranean or in the Narrow Seas. They had been used to ward off invasion and to keep open communications across not very extensive areas of water. In the sixteenth century they were first relied upon to support distant commerce, whether carried on in a peaceful fashion or under aggressive forms. This, naturally enough, led to collisions. The contention waxed hot, and was virtually decided when the Armada shaped course to the northward after the fight off Gravelines. The expeditions against the Spanish Indies and, still more, those against Philip II's peninsular territory, had helped to define the limitations of sea-power. It became evident, and it was made still more evident in the next century, that for a great country to be strong it must not rely upon a navy alone. It must also have an adequate and properly organised mobile army. Notwithstanding the number of times that this lesson has been repeated, we have been slow to learn it. It is doubtful if we have learned it even yet. English seamen in all ages seem to have mastered it fully; for they have always demanded--at any rate for upwards of three centuries--that expeditions against foreign territory over-sea should be accompanied by a proper number of land-troops. On the other hand, the necessity of organising the army of a maritime insular state, and of training it with the object of rendering effective aid in operations of the kind in question, has rarely been perceived and acted upon by others. The result has been a long series of inglorious or disastrous affairs like the West Indies voyage of 1595-96, the Cadiz expedition of 1625, and that to the Ile de Ré of 1627. Additions might be made to the list. The failures of joint expeditions have often been explained by alleging differences or quarrels between the naval and the military commanders. This way of explaining them, however, is nothing but the inveterate critical method of the streets by which cause is taken for effect and effect for cause. The differences and quarrels arose, no doubt; but they generally sprang out of the recriminations consequent on, not producing, the want of success. Another manifestation of the way in which sea-power works was first observed in the seventeenth century. It suggested the adoption of, and furnished the instrument for carrying out a distinct maritime policy. What was practically a standing navy had come into existence. As regards England this phenomenon was now of respectable age. Long voyages and cruises of several ships in company had been frequent during the latter half of the sixteenth century and the early part of the seventeenth. Even the grandfathers of the men who sailed with Blake and Penn in 1652 could not have known a time when ships had never crossed the ocean, and squadrons kept together for months had never cruised. However imperfect it may have been, a system of provisioning ships and supplying them with stores, and of preserving discipline amongst their crews, had been developed, and had proved fairly satisfactory. The Parliament and the Protector in turn found it necessary to keep a considerable number of ships in commission, and make them cruise and operate in company. It was not till well on in the reign of Queen Victoria that the man-of-war's man was finally differentiated from the merchant seaman; but two centuries before some of the distinctive marks of the former had already begun to be noticeable. There were seamen in the time of the Commonwealth who rarely, perhaps some who never, served afloat except in a man-of-war. Some of the interesting naval families which were settled at Portsmouth and the eastern ports, and which--from father to son--helped to recruit the ranks of our bluejackets till a date later than that of the launch of the first ironclad, could carry back their professional genealogy to at least the days of Charles II, when, in all probability, it did not first start. Though landsmen continued even after the civil war to be given naval appointments, and though a permanent corps, through the ranks of which everyone must pass, had not been formally established, a body of real naval officers--men who could handle their ships, supervise the working of the armament, and exercise military command--had been formed. A navy, accordingly, was now a weapon of undoubted keenness, capable of very effective use by anyone who knew how to wield it. Having tasted the sweets of intercourse with the Indies, whether in the occupation of Portugal or of Spain, both English and Dutch were desirous of getting a larger share of them. English maritime commerce had increased and needed naval protection. If England was to maintain the international position to which, as no one denied, she was entitled, that commerce must be permitted to expand. The minds of men in western Europe, moreover, were set upon obtaining for their country territories in the New World, the amenities of which were now known. From the reign of James I the Dutch had shown great jealousy of English maritime enterprise. Where it was possible, as in the East Indian Archipelago, they had destroyed it. Their naval resources were great enough to let them hold English shipping at their mercy, unless a vigorous effort were made to protect it. The Dutch conducted the carrying trade of a great part of the world, and the monopoly of this they were resolved to keep, while the English were resolved to share in it. The exclusion of the English from every trade-route, except such as ran by their own coast or crossed the Narrow Seas, seemed a by no means impossible contingency. There seemed also to be but one way of preventing it, viz. by war. The supposed unfriendliness of the Dutch, or at least of an important party amongst them, to the regicide Government in England helped to force the conflict. The Navigation Act of 1651 was passed and regarded as a covert declaration of hostilities. So the first Dutch war began. It established our claim to compete for the position of a great maritime commercial power. The rise of the sea-power of the Dutch, and the magnitude which it attained in a short time and in the most adverse circumstances, have no parallel in history. The case of Athens was different, because the Athenian power had not so much been unconsciously developed out of a great maritime trade, as based on a military marine deliberately and persistently fostered during many years. Thirlwall believes that it was Solon who 'laid the foundations of the Attic navy,'[39] a century before Salamis. The great achievement of Themistocles was to convince his fellow-citizens that their navy ought to be increased. Perhaps the nearest parallel with the power of the Dutch was presented by that of Rhodes, which rested largely on a carrying trade. The Rhodian undertakings, however, were by comparison small and restricted in extent. Motley declares of the Seven United Provinces that they 'commanded the ocean,'[40] and that it would be difficult to exaggerate the naval power of the young Commonwealth. Even in the days of Spain's greatness English seamen positively declined to admit that she was stronger than England on the sea; and the story of the Armada justified their view. Our first two Dutch wars were, therefore, contests between the two foremost naval states of the world for what was primarily a maritime object. The identity of the cause of the first and of the second war will be discerned by anyone who compares what has been said about the circumstances leading to the former, with Monk's remark as to the latter. He said that the English wanted a larger share of the trade enjoyed by the Dutch. It was quite in accordance with the spirit of the age that the Dutch should try to prevent, by force, this want from being satisfied. Anything like free and open competition was repugnant to the general feeling. The high road to both individual wealth and national prosperity was believed to lie in securing a monopoly. Merchants or manufacturers who called for the abolition of monopolies granted to particular courtiers and favourites had not the smallest intention, on gaining their object, of throwing open to the enterprise of all what had been monopolised. It was to be kept for the exclusive benefit of some privileged or chartered company. It was the same in greater affairs. As Mahan says, 'To secure to one's own people a disproportionate share of the benefits of sea commerce every effort was made to exclude others, either by the peaceful legislative methods of monopoly or prohibitory regulations, or, when these failed, by direct violence.' The apparent wealth of Spain was believed to be due to the rigorous manner in which foreigners were excluded from trading with the Spanish over-sea territories. The skill and enterprise of the Dutch having enabled them to force themselves into this trade, they were determined to keep it to themselves. The Dutch East India Company was a powerful body, and largely dictated the maritime policy of the country. We have thus come to an interesting point in the historical consideration of sea-power. The Elizabethan conflict with Spain had practically settled the question whether or not the expanding nations were to be allowed to extend their activities to territories in the New World. The first two Dutch wars were to settle the question whether or not the ocean trade of the world was to be open to any people qualified to engage in it. We can see how largely these were maritime questions, how much depended on the solution found for them, and how plain it was that they must be settled by naval means. [Footnote 39: _Hist._Greece_, ii. p. 52.] [Footnote 40: _United_Netherlands_, ii. p. 132.] Mahan's great survey of sea-power opens in 1660, midway between the first and second Dutch wars. 'The sailing-ship era, with its distinctive features,' he tells us, 'had fairly begun.' The art of war by sea, in its more important details, had been settled by the first war. From the beginning of the second the general features of ship design, the classification of ships, the armament of ships, and the handling of fleets, were to remain without essential alteration until the date of Navarino. Even the tactical methods, except where improved on occasions by individual genius, altered little. The great thing was to bring the whole broadside force to bear on an enemy. Whether this was to be impartially distributed throughout the hostile line or concentrated on one part of it depended on the character of particular admirals. It would have been strange if a period so long and so rich in incidents had afforded no materials for forming a judgment on the real significance of sea-power. The text, so to speak, chosen by Mahan is that, notwithstanding the changes wrought in naval _matériel_ during the last half-century, we can find in the history of the past instructive illustrations of the general principles of maritime war. These illustrations will prove of value not only 'in those wider operations which embrace a whole theatre of war,' but also, if rightly applied, 'in the tactical use of the ships and weapons' of our own day. By a remarkable coincidence the same doctrine was being preached at the same time and quite independently by the late Vice-Admiral Philip Colomb in his work on 'Naval Warfare.' As a prelude to the second Dutch war we find a repetition of a process which had been adopted somewhat earlier. That was the permanent conquest of trans-oceanic territory. Until the seventeenth century had well begun, naval, or combined naval and military, operations against the distant possessions of an enemy had been practically restricted to raiding or plundering attacks on commercial centres. The Portuguese territory in South America having come under Spanish dominion in consequence of the annexation of Portugal to Spain, the Dutch--as the power of the latter country declined--attempted to reduce part of that territory into permanent possession. This improvement on the practice of Drake and others was soon seen to be a game at which more than one could play. An expedition sent by Cromwell to the West Indies seized the Spanish island of Jamaica, which has remained in the hands of its conquerors to this day. In 1664 an English force occupied the Dutch North American settlements on the Hudson. Though the dispossessed rulers were not quite in a position to throw stones at sinners, this was rather a raid than an operation of recognised warfare, because it preceded the formal outbreak of hostilities. The conquered territory remained in English hands for more than a century, and thus testified to the efficacy of a sea-power which Europe had scarcely begun to recognise. Neither the second nor the third Dutch war can be counted amongst the occurrences to which Englishmen may look back with unalloyed satisfaction; but they, unquestionably, disclosed some interesting manifestations of sea-power. Much indignation has been expressed concerning the corruption and inefficiency of the English Government of the day, and its failure to take proper measures for keeping up the navy as it should have been kept up. Some, perhaps a good deal, of this indignation was deserved; but it would have been nearly as well deserved by every other government of the day. Even in those homes of political virtue where the administrative machinery was worked by or in the interest of speculating capitalists and privileged companies, the accumulating evidence of late years has proved that everything was not considered to be, and as a matter of fact was not, exactly as it ought to have been. Charles II and his brother, the Duke of York, have been held up to obloquy because they thought that the coast of England could be defended against a naval enemy better by fortifications than by a good fleet and, as Pepys noted, were 'not ashamed of it.' The truth is that neither the king nor the duke believed in the power of a navy to ward off attack from an island. This may have been due to want of intellectual capacity; but it would be going a long way to put it down to personal wickedness. They have had many imitators, some in our own day. The huge forts which stud the coast of the United Kingdom, and have been erected within the memory of the present generation, are monuments, likely to last for many years, of the inability of people, whom no one could accuse of being vicious, to rate sea-power at its proper value. It is much more likely that it was owing to a reluctance to study questions of naval defence as industriously as they deserved, and to that moral timidity which so often tempts even men of proved physical courage to undertake the impossible task of making themselves absolutely safe against hostile efforts at every point. Charles II has also been charged with indifference to the interests of his country, or worse, because during a great naval war he adopted the plan of trying to weaken the enemy by destroying his commerce. The king 'took a fatal resolution of laying up his great ships and keeping only a few frigates on the cruise.' It is expressly related that this was not Charles's own idea, but that it was urged upon him by advisers whose opinion probably seemed at the time as well worth listening to as that of others. Anyhow, if the king erred, as he undoubtedly did, he erred in good company. Fourteen hundred years earlier the statesmen who conducted the great war against Carthage, and whose astuteness has been the theme of innumerable panegyrics since, took the same 'fatal resolution.' In the midst of the great struggle they 'did away with the fleet. At the most they encouraged privateering; and with that view placed the war-vessels of the State at the disposal of captains who were ready to undertake a corsair warfare on their own account.'[41] In much later times this method has had many and respectable defenders. Mahan's works are, in a sense, a formal warning to his fellow-citizens not to adopt it. In France, within the last years of the nineteenth century, it found, and appears still to find, adherents enough to form a school. The reappearance of belief in demonstrated impossibilities is a recognised incident in human history; but it is usually confined to the emotional or the vulgar. It is serious and filled with menaces of disaster when it is held by men thought fit to administer the affairs of a nation or advise concerning its defence. The third Dutch war may not have settled directly the position of England in the maritime world; but it helped to place that country above all other maritime states,--in the position, in fact, which Great Britain, the United Kingdom, the British Empire, whichever name may be given it, has retained up to the present. It also manifested in a very striking form the efficacy of sea-power. The United Provinces, though attacked by two of the greatest monarchies in the world, France and England, were not destroyed. Indeed, they preserved much of their political importance in the State system of Europe. The Republic 'owed this astonishing result partly to the skill of one or two men, but mainly to its sea-power.' The effort, however, had undermined its strength and helped forward its decline. [Footnote 41: Mommsen, ii. p. 52.] The war which was ended by the Peace of Ryswick in 1697 presents two features of exceptional interest: one was the havoc wrought on English commerce by the enemy; the other was Torrington's conduct at and after the engagement off Beachy Head. Mahan discusses the former with his usual lucidity. At no time has war against commerce been conducted on a larger scale and with greater results than during this period. We suffered 'infinitely more than in any former war.' Many of our merchants were ruined; and it is affirmed that the English shipping was reduced to the necessity of sailing under the Swedish and Danish flags. The explanation is that Louis XIV made great efforts to keep up powerful fleets. Our navy was so fully occupied in watching these that no ships could be spared to protect our maritime trade. This is only another way of saying that our commerce had increased so largely that the navy was not strong enough to look after it as well as oppose the enemy's main force. Notwithstanding our losses we were on the winning side in the conflict. Much misery and ruin had been caused, but not enough to affect the issue of the war. Torrington's proceedings in July 1690 were at the time the subject of much angry debate. The debate, still meriting the epithet angry, has been renewed within the last few years. The matter has to be noticed here, because it involves the consideration of a question of naval strategy which must be understood by those who wish to know the real meaning of the term sea-power, and who ought to learn that it is not a thing to be idly risked or thrown away at the bidding of the ignorant and the irresponsible. Arthur Herbert, Earl of Torrington--the later peerage is a viscounty held by the Byng family--was in command of the allied English and Dutch fleet in the Channel. 'The disparity of force,' says Mahan, 'was still in favour of France in 1690, but it was not so great as the year before.' We can measure the ability of the then English Government for conducting a great war, when we know that, in its wisdom, it had still further weakened our fleet by dividing it (Vice-Admiral Killigrew having been sent to the Mediterranean with a squadron), and had neglected, and indeed refused when urged, to take the necessary steps to repair this error. The Government having omitted, as even British Governments sometimes do, to gain any trustworthy intelligence of the strength or movements of the enemy, Torrington suddenly found himself confronted by a considerably superior French fleet under Tourville, one of the greatest of French sea-officers. Of late years the intentions of the French have been questioned; but it is beyond dispute that in England at the time Tourville's movements were believed to be preliminary to invasion. Whether Tourville deliberately meant his movement to cover an invasion or not, invasion would almost certainly have followed complete success on his part; otherwise his victory would have been without any valuable result. Torrington saw that as long as he could keep his own fleet intact, he could, though much weaker than his opponent, prevent him from doing serious harm. Though personally not a believer in the imminence of invasion, the English admiral knew that 'most men were in fear that the French would invade.' His own view was, 'that whilst we had a fleet in being they would not dare to make an attempt.' Of late years controversy has raged round this phrase, 'a fleet in being,' and the strategic principle which it expresses. Most seamen were at the time, have been since, and still are in agreement with Torrington. This might be supposed enough to settle the question. It has not been allowed, however, to remain one of purely naval strategy. It was made at the time a matter of party politics. This is why it is so necessary that in a notice of sea-power it should be discussed. Both as a strategist and as a tactician Torrington was immeasurably ahead of his contemporaries. The only English admirals who can be placed above him are Hawke and Nelson. He paid the penalty of his pre-eminence: he could not make ignorant men and dull men see the meaning or the advantages of his proceedings. Mahan, who is specially qualified to do him full justice, does not devote much space in his work to a consideration of Torrington's case, evidently because he had no sufficient materials before him on which to form a judgment. The admiral's character had been taken away already by Macaulay, who did have ample evidence before him. William III, with all his fine qualities, did not possess a military genius quite equal to that of Napoleon; and Napoleon, in naval strategy, was often wrong. William III understood that subject even less than the French emperor did; and his favourites were still less capable of understanding it. Consequently Torrington's action has been put down to jealousy of the Dutch. There have been people who accused Nelson of being jealous of the naval reputation of Caracciolo! The explanation of Torrington's conduct is this:-- He had a fleet so much weaker than Tourville's that he could not fight a general action with the latter without a practical certainty of getting a crushing defeat. Such a result would have laid the kingdom open: a defeat of the allied fleet, says Mahan, 'if sufficiently severe, might involve the fall of William's throne in England.' Given certain movements of the French fleet, Torrington might have manoeuvred to slip past it to the westward and join his force with that under Killigrew, which would make him strong enough to hazard a battle. This proved impracticable. There was then one course left. To retire before the French, but not to keep far from them. He knew that, though not strong enough to engage their whole otherwise unemployed fleet with any hope of success, he would be quite strong enough to fight and most likely beat it, when a part of it was trying either to deal with our ships to the westward or to cover the disembarkation of an invading army. He, therefore, proposed to keep his fleet 'in being' in order to fall on the enemy when the latter would have two affairs at the same time on his hands. The late Vice-Admiral Colomb rose to a greater height than was usual even with him in his criticism of this campaign. What Torrington did was merely to reproduce on the sea what has been noticed dozens of times on shore, viz. the menace by the flanking enemy. In land warfare this is held to give exceptional opportunities for the display of good generalship, but, to quote Mahan over again, a navy 'acts on an element strange to most writers, its members have been from time immemorial a strange race apart, without prophets of their own, neither themselves nor their calling understood.' Whilst Torrington has had the support of seamen, his opponents have been landsmen. For the crime of being a good strategist he was brought before a court-martial, but acquitted. His sovereign, who had been given the crowns of three kingdoms to defend our laws, showed his respect for them by flouting a legally constituted tribunal and disregarding its solemn finding. The admiral who had saved his country was forced into retirement. Still, the principle of the 'fleet in being' lies at the bottom of all sound strategy. Admiral Colomb has pointed out a great change of plan in the later naval campaigns of the seventeenth century. Improvements in naval architecture, in the methods of preserving food, and in the arrangements for keeping the crews healthy, permitted fleets to be employed at a distance from their home ports for long continuous periods. The Dutch, when allies of the Spaniards, kept a fleet in the Mediterranean for many months. The great De Ruyter was mortally wounded in one of the battles there fought. In the war of the Spanish Succession the Anglo-Dutch fleet found its principal scene of action eastward of Gibraltar. This, as it were, set the fashion for future wars. It became a kind of tacitly accepted rule that the operation of British sea-power was to be felt in the enemy's rather than in our own waters. The hostile coast was regarded strategically as the British frontier, and the sea was looked upon as territory which the enemy must be prevented from invading. Acceptance of this principle led in time to the so-called 'blockades' of Brest and Toulon. The name was misleading. As Nelson took care to explain, there was no desire to keep the enemy's fleet in; what was desired was to be near enough to attack it if it came out. The wisdom of the plan is undoubted. The hostile navy could be more easily watched and more easily followed if it put to sea. To carry out this plan a navy stronger in number of ships or in general efficiency than that of the enemy was necessary to us. With the exception of that of American Independence, which will therefore require special notice, our subsequent great wars were conducted in accordance with the rule. SEA-POWER IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY AND EARLY PART OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY In the early part of the eighteenth century there was a remarkable manifestation of sea-power in the Baltic. Peter the Great, having created an efficient army, drove the Swedes from the coast provinces south of the Gulf of Finland. Like the earlier monarchies of which we have spoken, Russia, in the Baltic at least, now became a naval state. A large fleet was built, and, indeed, a considerable navy established. It was a purely artificial creation, and showed the merits and defects of its character. At first, and when under the eye of its creator, it was strong; when Peter was no more it dwindled away and, when needed again, had to be created afresh. It enabled Peter the Great to conquer the neighbouring portion of Finland, to secure his coast territories, and to dominate the Baltic. In this he was assisted by the exhaustion of Sweden consequent on her endeavours to retain, what was no longer possible, the position of a _quasi_ great power which she had held since the days of Gustavus Adolphus. Sweden had been further weakened, especially as a naval state, by almost incessant wars with Denmark, which prevented all hope of Scandinavian predominance in the Baltic, the control of which sea has in our own days passed into the hands of another state possessing a quickly created navy--the modern German empire. The war of the Spanish Succession left Great Britain a Mediterranean power, a position which, in spite of twice losing Minorca, she still holds. In the war of the Austrian Succession, 'France was forced to give up her conquests for want of a navy, and England saved her position by her sea-power, though she had failed to use it to the best advantage.'[42] This shows, as we shall find that a later war showed more plainly, that even the Government of a thoroughly maritime country is not always sure of conducting its naval affairs wisely. The Seven Years' war included some brilliant displays of the efficacy of sea-power. It was this which put the British in possession of Canada, decided which European race was to rule in India, and led to a British occupation of Havannah in one hemisphere and of Manila in the other. In the same war we learned how, by a feeble use of sea-power, a valuable possession like Minorca may be lost. At the same time our maritime trade and the general prosperity of the kingdom increased enormously. The result of the conflict made plain to all the paramount importance of having in the principal posts in the Government men capable of understanding what war is and how it ought to be conducted. [Footnote 42: Mahan, _Inf._on_Hist._ p. 280.] This lesson, as the sequel demonstrated, had not been learned when Great Britain became involved in a war with the insurgent colonies in North America. Mahan's comment is striking: 'The magnificence of sea-power and its value had perhaps been more clearly shown by the uncontrolled sway and consequent exaltation of one belligerent; but the lesson thus given, if more striking, is less vividly interesting than the spectacle of that sea-power meeting a foe worthy of its steel, and excited to exertion by a strife which endangered not only its most valuable colonies, but even its own shores.'[43] We were, in fact, drawing too largely on the _prestige_ acquired during the Seven Years' war; and we were governed by men who did not understand the first principles of naval warfare, and would not listen to those who did. They quite ignored the teaching of the then comparatively recent wars which has been alluded to already--that we should look upon the enemy's coast as our frontier. A century and a half earlier the Dutchman Grotius had written-- Quæ meta Britannis Litora sunt aliis. [Footnote 43: _Influence_on_Hist._ p. 338.] Though ordinary prudence would have suggested ample preparation, British ministers allowed their country to remain unprepared. Instead of concentrating their efforts on the main objective, they frittered away force in attempts to relieve two beleaguered garrisons under the pretext of yielding to popular pressure, which is the official term for acting on the advice of irresponsible and uninstructed busybodies. 'Depuis le début de la crise,' says Captain Chevalier, 'les ministres de la Grande Bretagne s'étaient montrés inférieurs à leur tâche.' An impressive result of this was the repeated appearance of powerful and indeed numerically superior hostile fleets in the English Channel. The war--notwithstanding that, perhaps because, land operations constituted an important part of it, and in the end settled the issue--was essentially oceanic. Captain Mahan says it was 'purely maritime.' It may be true that, whatever the belligerent result, the political result, as regards the _status_ of the insurgent colonies, would have been the same. It is in the highest degree probable, indeed it closely approaches to certainty, that a proper use of the British sea-power would have prevented independence from being conquered, as it were, at the point of the bayonet. There can be no surprise in store for the student acquainted with the vagaries of strategists who are influenced in war by political in preference to military requirements. Still, it is difficult to repress an emotion of astonishment on finding that a British Government intentionally permitted De Grasse's fleet and the French army in its convoy to cross the Atlantic unmolested, for fear of postponing for a time the revictualling of the garrison beleaguered at Gibraltar. Washington's opinion as to the importance of the naval factor has been quoted already; and Mahan does not put the case too strongly when he declares that the success of the Americans was due to 'sea-power being in the hands of the French and its improper distribution by the English authorities.' Our navy, misdirected as it was, made a good fight of it, never allowed itself to be decisively beaten in a considerable battle, and won at least one great victory. At the point of contact with the enemy, however, it was not in general so conspicuously successful as it was in the Seven Years' war, or as it was to be in the great conflict with the French republic and empire. The truth is that its opponent, the French navy, was never so thoroughly a sea-going force as it was in the war of American Independence; and never so closely approached our own in real sea-experience as it did during that period. We met antagonists who were very nearly, but, fortunately for us, not quite as familiar with the sea as we were ourselves; and we never found it so hard to beat them, or even to avoid being beaten by them. An Englishman would, naturally enough, start at the conclusion confronting him, if he were to speculate as to the result of more than one battle had the great Suffren's captains and crews been quite up to the level of those commanded by stout old Sir Edward Hughes. Suffren, it should be said, before going to the East Indies, had 'thirty-eight years of almost uninterrupted sea-service.'[44] A glance at a chart of the world, with the scenes of the general actions of the war dotted on it, will show how notably oceanic the campaigns were. The hostile fleets met over and over again on the far side of the Atlantic and in distant Indian seas. The French navy had penetrated into the ocean as readily and as far as we could do ourselves. Besides this, it should be remembered that it was not until the 12th April 1782. when Rodney in one hemisphere and Suffren in the other showed them the way, that our officers were able to escape from the fetters imposed on them by the _Fighting_ _Instructions_,--a fact worth remembering in days in which it is sometimes proposed, by establishing schools of naval tactics on shore, to revive the pedantry which made a decisive success in battle nearly impossible. [Footnote 44: Laughton, _Studies_in_Naval_Hist._ p. 103.] The mighty conflict which raged between Great Britain on one side and France and her allies on the other, with little intermission, for more than twenty years, presents a different aspect from that of the war last mentioned. The victories which the British fleet was to gain were generally to be overwhelming; if not, they were looked upon as almost defeats. Whether the fleet opposed to ours was, or was not, the more numerous, the result was generally the same--our enemy was beaten. That there was a reason for this which can be discovered is certain. A great deal has been made of the disorganisation in the French navy consequent on the confusion of the Revolution. That there was disorganisation is undoubted; that it did impair discipline and, consequently, general efficiency will not be disputed; but that it was considerable enough to account by itself for the French naval defeats is altogether inadmissible. Revolutionary disorder had invaded the land-forces to a greater degree than it had invaded the sea-forces. The supersession, flight, or guillotining of army officers had been beyond measure more frequent than was the case with the naval officers. In spite of all this the French armies were on the whole--even in the early days of the Revolution--extraordinarily successful. In 1792 'the most formidable invasion that ever threatened France,' as Alison calls it, was repelled, though the invaders were the highly disciplined and veteran armies of Prussia and Austria. It was nearly two years later that the French and English fleets came into serious conflict. The first great battle, which we call 'The Glorious First of June,' though a tactical victory for us, was a strategical defeat. Villaret-Joyeuse manoeuvred so as to cover the arrival in France of a fleet of merchant vessels carrying sorely needed supplies of food, and in this he was completely successful. His plan involved the probability, almost the necessity, of fighting a general action which he was not at all sure of winning. He was beaten, it is true; but the French made so good a fight of it that their defeat was not nearly so disastrous as the later defeats of the Nile or Trafalgar, and--at the most--not more disastrous than that of Dominica. Yet no one even alleges that there was disorder or disorganisation in the French fleet at the date of anyone of those affairs. Indeed, if the French navy was really disorganised in 1794, it would have been better for France--judging from the events of 1798 and 1805--if the disorganisation had been allowed to continue. In point of organisation the British Navy was inferior, and in point of discipline not much superior to the French at the earliest date; at the later dates, and especially at the latest, owing to the all-pervading energy of Napoleon, the British was far behind its rival in organisation, in 'science,' and in every branch of training that can be imparted without going to sea. We had the immense advantage of counting amongst our officers some very able men. Nelson, of course, stands so high that he holds a place entirely by himself. The other British chiefs, good as they were, were not conspicuously superior to the Hawkes and Rodneys of an earlier day. Howe was a great commander, but he did little more than just appear on the scene in the war. Almost the same may be said of Hood, of whom Nelson wrote, 'He is the greatest sea-officer I ever knew.'[45] There must have been something, therefore, beyond the meritorious qualities of our principal officers which helped us so consistently to victory. The many triumphs won could not have been due in every case to the individual superiority of the British admiral or captain to his opponent. There must have been bad as well as good amongst the hundreds on our lists; and we cannot suppose that Providence had so arranged it that in every action in which a British officer of inferior ability commanded a still inferior French commander was opposed to him. The explanation of our nearly unbroken success is, that the British was a thoroughly sea-going navy, and became more and more so every month; whilst the French, since the close of the American war, had lost to a great extent its sea-going character and, because we shut it up in its ports, became less and less sea-going as hostilities continued. The war had been for us, in the words of Mr. Theodore Roosevelt, 'a continuous course of victory won mainly by seamanship.' Our navy, as regards sea-experience, especially of the officers, was immensely superior to the French. This enabled the British Government to carry into execution sound strategic plans, in accordance with which the coasts of France and its dependent or allied countries were regarded as the English frontier to be watched or patrolled by our fleets. [Footnote 45: Laughton, _Nelson's_Lett._and_Desp._ p. 71.] Before the long European war had been brought to a formal ending we received some rude rebuffs from another opponent of unsuspected vigour. In the quarrel with the United States, the so-called 'War of 1812,' the great sea-power of the British in the end asserted its influence, and our antagonists suffered much more severely, even absolutely, than ourselves. At the same time we might have learned, for the Americans did their best to teach us, that over-confidence in numerical strength and narrow professional self-satisfaction are nearly sure to lead to reverses in war, and not unlikely to end in grave disasters. We had now to meet the _élite_ of one of the finest communities of seamen ever known. Even in 1776 the Americans had a great maritime commerce, which, as Mahan informs us, 'had come to be the wonder of the statesmen of the mother country.' In the six-and-thirty years which had elapsed since then this commerce had further increased. There was no finer nursery of seamen than the then states of the American Union. Roosevelt says that 'there was no better seaman in the world' than the American, who 'had been bred to his work from infancy.' A large proportion of the population 'was engaged in sea-going pursuits of a nature strongly tending to develop a resolute and hardy character in the men that followed them.'[46] Having little or no naval protection, the American seaman had to defend himself in many circumstances, and was compelled to familiarise himself with the use of arms. The men who passed through this practical, and therefore supremely excellent, training school were numerous. Very many had been trained in English men-of-war, and some in French ships. The state navy which they were called on to man was small; and therefore its _personnel_, though without any regular or avowed selection, was virtually and in the highest sense a picked body. The lesson of the war of 1812 should be learned by Englishmen of the present day, when a long naval peace has generated a confidence in numerical superiority, in the mere possession of heavier _matériel_, and in the merits of a rigidly uniform system of training, which confidence, as experience has shown, is too often the forerunner of misfortune. It is neither patriotic nor intelligent to minimise the American successes. Certainly they have been exaggerated by Americans and even by ourselves. To take the frigate actions alone, as being those which properly attracted most attention, we see that the captures in action amounted to three on each side, the proportionate loss to our opponents, considering the smallness of their fleet, being immensely greater than ours. We also see that no British frigate was taken after the first seven months of a war which lasted two and a half years, and that no British frigate succumbed except to admittedly superior force. Attempts have been made to spread a belief that our reverses were due to nothing but the greater size and heavier guns of our enemy's ships. It is now established that the superiority in these details, which the Americans certainly enjoyed, was not great, and not of itself enough to account for their victories. Of course, if superiority in mere _matériel_, beyond a certain well-understood amount, is possessed by one of two combatants, his antagonist can hardly escape defeat; but it was never alleged that size of ship or calibre of guns--greater within reasonable limits than we had--necessarily led to the defeat of British ships by the French or Spaniards. In the words of Admiral Jurien de la Gravière, 'The ships of the United States constantly fought with the chances in their favour.' All this is indisputable. Nevertheless we ought to see to it that in any future war our sea-power, great as it may be, does not receive shocks like those that it unquestionably did receive in 1812. [Footnote 46: _Naval_War_of_1812_, 3rd ed. pp. 29, 30.] SEA-POWER IN RECENT TIMES We have now come to the end of the days of the naval wars of old time. The subsequent period has been illustrated repeatedly by manifestations of sea-power, often of great interest and importance, though rarely understood or even discerned by the nations which they more particularly concerned. The British sea-power, notwithstanding the first year of the war of 1812, had come out of the great European conflict unshaken and indeed more preeminent than ever. The words used, half a century before by a writer in the great French 'Encyclopédie,' seemed more exact than when first written. '_L'empire_des_mers_,' he says, is, 'le plus avantageux de tous les empires; les Phoeniciens le possédoient autre fois et c'est aux Anglois que cette gloire appartient aujourd'hui sur toutes les puissances maritimes.'[47] Vast out-lying territories had been acquired or were more firmly held, and the communications of all the over-sea dominions of the British Crown were secured against all possibility of serious menace for many years to come. Our sea-power was so ubiquitous and all-pervading that, like the atmosphere, we rarely thought of it and rarely remembered its necessity or its existence. It was not till recently that the greater part of the nation--for there were many, and still are some exceptions--perceived that it was the medium apart from which the British Empire could no more live than it could have grown up. Forty years after the fall of Napoleon we found ourselves again at war with a great power. We had as our ally the owner of the greatest navy in the world except our own. Our foe, as regards his naval forces, came the next in order. Yet so overwhelming was the strength of Great Britain and France on the sea that Russia never attempted to employ her navy against them. Not to mention other expeditions, considerable enough in themselves, military operations on the largest scale were undertaken, carried on for many months, and brought to a successful termination on a scene so remote that it was two thousand miles from the country of one, and three thousand from that of the other partner in the alliance. 'The stream of supplies and reinforcements, which in terms of modern war is called "communications,", was kept free from even the threat of molestation, not by visible measures, but by the undisputed efficacy of a real, though imperceptible sea-power. At the close of the Russian war we encountered, and unhappily for us in influential positions, men who, undismayed by the consequences of mimicking in free England the cast-iron methods of the Great Frederick, began to measure British requirements by standards borrowed from abroad and altogether inapplicable to British conditions. Because other countries wisely abstained from relying on that which they did not possess, or had only imperfectly and with elaborate art created, the mistress of the seas was led to proclaim her disbelief in the very force that had made and kept her dominion, and urged to defend herself with fortifications by advisers who, like Charles II and the Duke of York two centuries before, were 'not ashamed of it.' It was long before the peril into which this brought the empire was perceived; but at last, and in no small degree owing to the teachings of Mahan, the people themselves took the matter in hand and insisted that a great maritime empire should have adequate means of defending all that made its existence possible. [Footnote 47: _Encyclopédie_, 7th Jan. 1765, art. 'Thalassarchie.'] In forms differing in appearance, but identical in essentials, the efficacy of sea-power was proved again in the American Secession war. If ever there were hostilities in which, to the unobservant or short-sighted, naval operations might at first glance seem destined to count for little, they were these. The sequel, however, made it clear that they constituted one of the leading factors of the success of the victorious side. The belligerents, the Northern or Federal States and the Southern or Confederate States, had a common land frontier of great length. The capital of each section was within easy distance of this frontier, and the two were not far apart. In wealth, population, and resources the Federals were enormously superior. They alone possessed a navy, though at first it was a small one. The one advantage on the Confederate side was the large proportion of military officers which belonged to it and their fine training as soldiers. In _physique_ as well as in _morale_ the army of one side differed little from that of the other; perhaps the Federal army was slightly superior in the first, and the Confederate, as being recruited from a dominant white race, in the second. Outnumbered, less well equipped, and more scantily supplied, the Confederates nevertheless kept up the war, with many brilliant successes on land, for four years. Had they been able to maintain their trade with neutral states they could have carried on the war longer, and--not improbably--have succeeded in the end. The Federal navy, which was largely increased, took away all chance of this. It established effective blockades of the Confederate ports, and severed their communications with the outside world. Indispensable articles of equipment could not be obtained, and the armies, consequently, became less and less able to cope with their abundantly furnished antagonists. By dominating the rivers the Federals cut the Confederacy asunder; and by the power they possessed of moving troops by sea at will, perplexed and harassed the defence, and facilitated the occupation of important points. Meanwhile the Confederates could make no reply on the water except by capturing merchant vessels, by which the contest was embittered, but the course of the war remained absolutely unaffected. The great numbers of men under arms on shore, the terrific slaughter in many battles of a war in which tactical ability, even in a moderate degree, was notably uncommon on both sides, and the varying fortunes of the belligerents, made the land campaigns far more interesting to the ordinary observer than the naval. It is not surprising, therefore, that peace had been re-established for several years before the American people could be made to see the great part taken by the navy in the restoration of the Union; and what the Americans had not seen was hidden from the sight of other nations. In several great wars in Europe waged since France and England made peace with Russia sea-power manifested itself but little. In the Russo-Turkish war the great naval superiority of the Turks in the Black Sea, where the Russians at the time had no fleet, governed the plans, if not the course, of the campaigns. The water being denied to them, the Russians were compelled to execute their plan of invading Turkey by land. An advance to the Bosphorus through the northern part of Asia Minor was impracticable without help from a navy on the right flank. Consequently the only route was a land one across the Danube and the Balkans. The advantages, though not fully utilised, which the enforcement of this line of advance put into the hands of the Turks, and the difficulties and losses which it caused the Russians, exhibited in a striking manner what sea-power can effect even when its operation is scarcely observable. This was more conspicuous in a later series of hostilities. The civil war in Chili between Congressists and Balmacedists is specially interesting, because it throws into sharp relief the predominant influence, when a non-maritime enemy is to be attacked, of a navy followed up by an adequate land-force. At the beginning of the dispute the Balmacedists, or President's party, had practically all the army, and the Congressists, or Opposition party, nearly all the Chilian navy. Unable to remain in the principal province of the republic, and expelled from the waters of Valparaiso by the Balmacedist garrisons of the forts--the only and doubtful service which those works rendered to their own side--the Congressists went off with the ships to the northern provinces, where they counted many adherents. There they formed an army, and having money at command, and open sea communications, they were able to import equipment from abroad, and eventually to transport their land-force, secured from molestation on the voyage by the sea-power at their disposal, to the neighbourhood of Valparaiso, where it was landed and triumphantly ended the campaign. It will have been noticed that, in its main outlines, this story repeated that of many earlier campaigns. It was itself repeated, as regards its general features, by the story of the war between China and Japan in 1894-95. 'Every aspect of the war,' says Colomb, 'is interesting to this country, as Japan is to China in a position similar to that which the British Islands occupy to the European continent.'[48] It was additionally interesting because the sea-power of Japan was a novelty. Though a novelty, it was well known by English naval men to be superior in all essentials to that of China, a novelty itself. As is the rule when two belligerents are contending for something beyond a purely maritime object, the final decision was to be on land. Korea was the principal theatre of the land war; and, as far as access to it by sea was concerned, the chief bases of the two sides were about the same distance from it. It was possible for the Chinese to march there by land. The Japanese, coming from an island state, were obliged to cross the water. It will be seen at once that not only the success of the Japanese in the struggle, but also the possibility of its being carried on by them at all, depended on sea-power. The Japanese proved themselves decisively superior at sea. Their navy effectually cleared the way for one army which was landed in Korea, and for another which was landed in the Chinese province of Shantung. The Chinese land-forces were defeated. The navy of japan, being superior on the sea, was able to keep its sister service supplied or reinforced as required. It was, however, not the navy, but the army, which finally frustrated the Chinese efforts at defence, and really terminated the war. What the navy did was what, in accordance with the limitations of sea-power, may be expected of a navy. It made the transport of the army across the sea possible; and enabled it to do what of itself the army could not have done, viz. overcome the last resistance of the enemy. [Footnote 48: _Naval_Warfare_, 3rd ed. p. 436.] The issue of the Spanish-American war, at least as regards the mere defeat of Spain, was, perhaps, a foregone conclusion. That Spain, even without a serious insurrection on her hands, was unequal to the task of meeting so powerful an antagonist as the United States must have been evident even to Spaniards. Be that as it may, an early collapse of the Spanish defence was not anticipated, and however one-sided the war may have been seen to be, it furnished examples illustrating rules as old as naval warfare. Mahan says of it that, 'while possessing, as every war does, characteristics of its own differentiating it from others, nevertheless in its broad analogies it falls into line with its predecessors, evidencing that unity of teaching which pervades the art from its beginnings unto this day.'[49] The Spaniards were defeated by the superiority of the American sea-power. 'A million of the best soldiers,' says Mahan, 'would have been powerless in face of hostile control of the sea.' That control was obtained and kept by the United States navy, thus permitting the unobstructed despatch of troops--and their subsequent reinforcement and supply--to Spanish territory, which was finally conquered, not by the navy, but by the army on shore. That it was the navy which made this final conquest possible happened, in this case, to be made specially evident by the action of the United States Government, which stopped a military expedition on the point of starting for Cuba until the sea was cleared of all Spanish naval force worth attention. [Footnote 49: _Lessons_of_the_War_with_Spain_, p. 16.] The events of the long period which we have been considering will have shown how sea-power operates, and what it effects. What is in it will have appeared from this narrative more clearly than would have been possible from any mere definition. Like many other things, sea-power is composed of several elements. To reach the highest degree of efficacy it should be based upon a population naturally maritime, and on an ocean commerce naturally developed rather than artificially enticed to extend itself. Its outward and visible sign is a navy, strong in the discipline, skill, and courage of a numerous _personnel_ habituated to the sea, in the number and quality of its ships, in the excellence of its _matériel_, and in the efficiency, scale, security, and geographical position of its arsenals and bases. History has demonstrated that sea-power thus conditioned can gain any purely maritime object, can protect the trade and the communications of a widely extended empire, and whilst so doing can ward off from its shores a formidable invader. There are, however, limitations to be noted. Left to itself its operation is confined to the water, or at any rate to the inner edge of a narrow zone of coast. It prepares the way for the advance of an army, the work of which it is not intended, and is unable to perform. Behind it, in the territory of which it guards the shores, there must be a land-force adjusted in organisation, equipment, and numbers to the circumstances of the country. The possession of a navy does not permit a sea-surrounded state to dispense with all fixed defences or fortification; but it does render it unnecessary and indeed absurd that they should be abundant or gigantic. The danger which always impends over the sea-power of any country is that, after being long unused, it may lose touch of the sea. The revolution in the constructive arts during the last half-century, which has also been a period of but little-interrupted naval peace, and the universal adoption of mechanical appliances, both for ship-propulsion and for many minor services--mere _matériel_ being thereby raised in the general estimation far above really more important matters--makes the danger mentioned more menacing in the present age than it has ever been before. II THE COMMAND OF THE SEA[50] [Footnote 50: Written in 1899. (_Encyclopoedia_Britannica_.)] This phrase, a technical term of naval warfare, indicates a definite strategical condition. The term has been substituted occasionally, but less frequently of late years, for the much older 'Dominion of the sea' or 'Sovereignty of the sea,' a legal term expressing a claim, if not a right. It has also been sometimes treated as though it were identical with the rhetorical expression 'Empire of the sea.' Mahan, instead of it, uses the term 'Control of the sea,' which has the merit of precision, and is not likely to be misunderstood or mixed up with a form of words meaning something different. The expression 'Command of the sea,' however, in its proper and strategic sense, is so firmly fixed in the language that it would be a hopeless task to try to expel it; and as, no doubt, writers will continue to use it, it must be explained and illustrated. Not only does it differ in meaning from 'Dominion or Sovereignty of the sea,' it is not even truly derived therefrom, as can be briefly shown. 'It has become an uncontested principle of modern international law that the sea, as a general rule, cannot be subjected to appropriation.'[51] This, however, is quite modern. We ourselves did not admit the principle till 1805; the Russians did not admit it till 1824; and the Americans, and then only tacitly, not till 1894. Most European nations at some time or other have claimed and have exercised rights over some part of the sea, though far outside the now well-recognised 'three miles' limit.' Venice claimed the Adriatic, and exacted a heavy toll from vessels navigating its northern waters. Genoa and France each claimed portions of the western Mediterranean. Denmark and Sweden claimed to share the Baltic between them. Spain claimed dominion over the Pacific and the Gulf of Mexico, and Portugal over the Indian Ocean and all the Atlantic south of Morocco.[52] The claim which has made the greatest noise in the world is that once maintained by the kings of England to the seas surrounding the British Isles. Like other institutions, the English sovereignty of the sea was, and was admitted to be, beneficent for a long period. Then came the time when it ought to have been abandoned as obsolete; but it was not, and so it led to war. The general conviction of the maritime nations was that the Lord of the Sea would provide for the police of the waters over which he exercised dominion. In rude ages when men, like the ancients, readily 'turned themselves to piracy,' this was of immense importance to trade; and, far from the right of dominion being disputed by foreigners, it was insisted upon by them and declared to carry with it certain duties. In 1299, not only English merchants, but also 'the maritime people of Genoa, Catalonia, Spain, Germany, Zealand, Holland, Frisia, Denmark, Norway, and several other places of the empire' declared that the kings of England had from time immemorial been in 'peaceable possession of the sovereign lordship of the sea of England,' and had done what was 'needful for the maintenance of peace, right, and equity between people of all sorts, whether subjects of another kingdom or not, who pass through those seas.'[53] The English sovereignty was not exercised as giving authority to exact toll. All that was demanded in return for keeping the sea safe for peaceful traffic was a salute, enforced no doubt as a formal admission of the right which permitted the (on the whole, at any rate) effective police of the waters to be maintained. The Dutch in the seventeenth century objected to the demand for this salute. It was insisted upon. War ensued; but in the end the Dutch acknowledged by solemn treaties their obligation to render the salute. The time for exacting it, however, was really past. S. R. Gardiner[54] maintains that though the 'question of the flag' was the occasion, it was not the cause of the war. There was not much, if any, piracy in the English Channel which the King of England was specially called upon to suppress, and if there had been the merchant vessels of the age were generally able to defend themselves, while if they were not their governments possessed force enough to give them the necessary protection. We gave up our claim to exact the salute in 1805. [Footnote 51: W. E. Hall, _Treatise_on_International_Law_, 4th ed. 1895, p. 146.] [Footnote 52: Hall, pp. 48, 49.] [Footnote 53: J. K. Laughton, 'Sovereignty of the Sea,' _Fortnightly_ _Review_, August 1866.] [Footnote 54: _The_First_Dutch_War_ (Navy Records Society), 1899.] The necessity of the foregoing short account of the 'Sovereignty or Dominion of the Seas' will be apparent as soon as we come to the consideration of the first struggle, or rather series of struggles, for the command of the sea. Gaining this was the result of our wars with the Dutch in the seventeenth century. At the time of the first Dutch war, 1652-54, and probably of the later wars also, a great many people, and especially seamen, believed that the conflict was due to a determination on our part to retain, and on that of the Dutch to put an end to, the English sovereignty or dominion. The obstinacy of the Dutch in objecting to pay the old-established mark of respect to the English flag was quite reason enough in the eyes of most Englishmen, and probably of most Dutchmen also, to justify hostilities which other reasons may have rendered inevitable. The remarkable thing about the Dutch wars is that in reality what we gained was the possibility of securing an absolute command of the sea. We came out of the struggle a great, and in a fair way of becoming the greatest, naval power. It is this which prompted Vice-Admiral P. H. Colomb to hold that there are various kinds of command, such as 'absolute or assured,' 'temporary,' 'with definite ulterior purpose,' &c. An explanation that would make all these terms intelligible would be voluminous and is unnecessary here. It will be enough to say that the absolute command--of attempts to gain which, as Colomb tells us, the Anglo-Dutch wars were the most complete example--is nothing but an attribute of the nation whose power on the sea is paramount. It exists and may be visible in time of peace. The command which, as said above, expresses a definite strategical condition is existent only in time of war. It can easily be seen that the former is essential to an empire like the British, the parts of which are bound together by maritime communications. Inability to keep these communications open can have only one result, viz. the loss of the parts with which communication cannot be maintained. Experience of war as well as reason will have made it evident that inability to keep open sea-communications cannot be limited to any single line, because the inability must be due either to incapacity in the direction of hostilities or insufficiency of force. If we have not force enough to keep open all the communications of our widely extended empire, or if--having force enough--we are too foolish to employ it properly, we do not hold the command of the sea, and the empire must fall if seriously attacked. The strategic command of the sea in a particular war or campaign has equal concern for all maritime belligerents. Before seeing what it is, it will be well to learn on high authority what it is not. Mahan says that command, or, to use his own term, 'control of the sea, however real, does not imply that an enemy's single ships or small squadrons cannot steal out of port, cannot cross more or less frequented tracts of ocean, make harassing descents upon unprotected points of a long coast-line, enter blockaded harbours. On the contrary, history has shown that such evasions are always possible, to some extent, to the weaker party, however great the inequality of naval strength.'[55] The Anglo-French command of the sea in 1854-56, complete as it was, did not enable the allies to intercept the Russian ships in the North-Western Pacific, nor did that held by the Federals in the American civil war put an early stop to the cruises of the Confederate vessels. What the term really does imply is the power possessed from the first, or gained during hostilities, by one belligerent of carrying out considerable over-sea expeditions at will. In the Russian war just mentioned the allies had such overwhelmingly superior sea-power that the Russians abandoned to them without a struggle the command of the sea; and the more recent landing in South Africa, more than six thousand miles away, of a large British army without even a threat of interruption on the voyage is another instance of unchallenged command. In wars between great powers and also between secondary powers, if nearly equally matched, this absence of challenge is rare. The rule is that the command of the sea has to be won after hostilities begin. To win it the enemy's naval force must be neutralised. It must be driven into his ports and there blockaded or 'masked,' and thus rendered virtually innocuous; or it must be defeated and destroyed. The latter is the preferable, because the more effective, plan. As was perceptible in the Spanish-American war of 1898, as long as one belligerent's fleet is intact or at large, the other is reluctant to carry out any considerable expedition over-sea. In fact, the command of the sea has not been secured whilst the enemy continues to have a 'fleet in being.'[56] [Footnote 55: _Influence_of_Sea-power_on_History_, 1890, p. 4.] [Footnote 56: See _ante_, Sea-Power, p. 50.] In 1782 a greatly superior Franco-Spanish fleet was covering the siege of Gibraltar. Had this fleet succeeded in preventing the revictualling of the fortress the garrison would have been starved into surrender. A British fleet under Lord Howe, though much weaker in numbers, had not been defeated and was still at large. Howe, in spite of the odds against him, managed to get his supply-ships in to the anchorage and to fight a partial action, in which he did the allies as much damage as he received. There has never been a display of higher tactical skill than this operation of Howe's, though, it may be said, he owes his fame much more to his less meritorious performance on the first of June. The revictualling of Gibraltar surpassed even Suffren's feat of the capture of Trincomalee in the same year. In 1798 the French, assuming that a temporary superiority in the Mediterranean had given them a free hand on the water, sent a great expedition to Egypt. Though the army which was carried succeeded in landing there, the covering fleet was destroyed by Nelson at the Nile, and the army itself was eventually forced to surrender. The French had not perceived that, except for a short time and for minor operations, you cannot separate the command of the Mediterranean or of any particular area of water from that of the sea in general. Local command of the sea may enable a belligerent to make a hasty raid, seize a relatively insignificant port, or cut out a vessel; but it will not ensure his being able to effect anything requiring considerable time for its execution, or, in other words, anything likely to have an important influence on the course of the war. If Great Britain has not naval force enough to retain command of the Mediterranean, she will certainly not have force enough to retain command of the English Channel. It can be easily shown why it should be so. In war danger comes less from conditions of locality than from the enemy's power to hurt. Taking up a weak position when confronting an enemy may help him in the exercise of his power, but it does not constitute it.[57] A maritime enemy's power to hurt resides in his fleet. If that can be neutralised his power disappears. It is in the highest degree improbable that this end can be attained by splitting up our own fleet into fragments so as to have a part of it in nearly every quarter in which the enemy may try to do us mischief. The most promising plan--as experience has often proved--is to meet the enemy, when he shows himself, with a force sufficiently strong to defeat him. The proper station of the British fleet in war should, accordingly, be the nearest possible point to the enemy's force. This was the fundamental principle of Nelson's strategy, and it is as valid now as ever it was. If we succeed in getting into close proximity to the hostile fleet with an adequate force of our own, our foe cannot obtain command of the sea, or of any part of it, whether that part be the Mediterranean or the English Channel, at any rate until he has defeated us. If he is strong enough to defeat our fleet he obtains the command of the sea in general; and it is for him to decide whether he shall show the effectiveness of that command in the Mediterranean or in the Channel. [Footnote 57: In his _History_of_Scotland_ (1873). J. H. M. Burton, speaking of the Orkney and Shetland isles in the Viking times, says (vol. i. p. 320): 'Those who occupied them were protected, not so much by their own strength of position, as by the complete command over the North Sea held by the fleets that found shelter in the fiords and firths.'] In the smaller operations of war temporary command of a particular area of water may suffice for the success of an expedition, or at least will permit the execution of the preliminary movements. When the main fleet of a country is at a distance--which it ought not to be except with the object of nearing the opposing fleet--a small hostile expedition may slip across, say the Channel, throw shells into a coast town or burn a fishing village, and get home again unmolested. Its action would have no sort of influence on the course of the campaign, and would, therefore, be useless. It would also most likely lead to reprisals; and, if this process were repeated, the war would probably degenerate into the antiquated system of 'cross-raiding,' discarded centuries ago, not at all for reasons of humanity, but because it became certain that war could be more effectually waged in other ways. The nation in command of the sea may resort to raiding to expedite the formal submission of an already defeated enemy, as Russia did when at war with Sweden in 1719; but in such a case the other side cannot retaliate. Temporary command of local waters will also permit of operations rather more considerable than mere raiding attacks; but the duration of these operations must be adjusted to the time available. If the duration of the temporary command is insufficient the operation must fail. It must fail even if the earlier steps have been taken successfully. Temporary command of the Baltic in war might enable a German force to occupy an Aland isle; but unless the temporary could be converted into permanent command, Germany could make no use of the acquisition, which in the end would revert as a matter of course to its former possessors. The command of the English Channel, which Napoleon wished to obtain when maturing his invasion project, was only temporary. It is possible that a reminiscence of what had happened in Egypt caused him to falter at the last; and that, quite independently of the proceedings of Villeneuve, he hesitated to risk a second battle of the Nile and the loss of a second army. It may have been this which justified his later statement that he did not really mean to invade England. In any case, the English practice of fixing the station of their fleet wherever that of the enemy's was, would have seriously shortened the duration of his command of the Channel, even if it had allowed it to be won at all. Moreover, attempts to carry out a great operation of war against time as well as against the efforts of the enemy to prevent it are in the highest degree perilous. In war the British Navy has three prominent duties to discharge. It has to protect our maritime trade, to keep open the communications between the different parts of the empire, and to prevent invasion. If we command the sea these duties will be discharged effectually. As long as we command the sea the career of hostile cruisers sent to prey on our commerce will be precarious, because command of the sea carries with it the necessity of possessing an ample cruiser force. As long as the condition mentioned is satisfied our ocean communications will be kept open, because an inferior enemy, who cannot obtain the command required, will be too much occupied in seeing to his own safety to be able to interfere seriously with that of any part of our empire. This being so, it is evident that the greater operation of invasion cannot be attempted, much less carried to a successful termination, by the side which cannot make head against the opposing fleet. Command of the sea is the indispensable preliminary condition of a successful military expedition sent across the water. It enables the nation which possesses it to attack its foes where it pleases and where they seem to be most vulnerable. At the same time it gives to its possessor security against serious counter-attacks, and affords to his maritime commerce the most efficient protection that can be devised. It is, in fact, the main object of naval warfare. III WAR AND ITS CHIEF LESSONS[58] [Footnote 58: Written in 1900. (_Naval_Annual_, 1901.)] Had the expression 'real war' been introduced into the title of this chapter, its introduction would have been justifiable. The sources--if not of our knowledge of combat, at least of the views which are sure to prevail when we come to actual fighting--are to be found in two well-defined, dissimilar, and widely separated areas. Within one are included the records of war; within the other, remembrance of the exercises and manoeuvres of a time of peace. The future belligerent will almost of a certainty have taken a practical part in the latter, whilst it is probable that he will have had no personal experience of the former. The longer the time elapsed since hostilities were in progress, the more probable and more general does this absence of experience become. The fighting man--that is to say, the man set apart, paid, and trained so as to be ready to fight when called upon--is of the same nature as the rest of his species. This is a truism; but it is necessary to insist upon it, because professional, and especially professorial, strategists and tacticians almost invariably ignore it. That which we have seen and know has not only more, but very much more, influence upon the minds of nearly all of us than that of which we have only heard, and, most likely, heard but imperfectly. The result is that, when peace is interrupted and the fighting man--on both sea and land--is confronted with the problems of practical belligerency, he brings to his attempts at their solution an intellectual equipment drawn, not from knowledge of real war, but from the less trustworthy arsenal of the recollections of his peace training. When peace, especially a long peace, ends, the methods which it has introduced are the first enemies which the organised defenders of a country have to overcome. There is plenty of evidence to prove that--except, of course, in unequal conflicts between highly organised, civilised states and savage or semi-barbarian tribes--success in war is directly proportionate to the extent of the preliminary victory over the predominance of impressions derived from the habits and exercises of an armed force during peace. That the cogency of this evidence is not invariably recognised is to be attributed to insufficient attention to history and to disinclination to apply its lessons properly. A primary object of the _Naval_Annual_--indeed, the chief reason for its publication--being to assist in advancing the efficiency of the British Navy, its pages are eminently the place for a review of the historical examples of the often-recurring inability of systems established in peace to stand the test of war. Hostilities on land being more frequent, and much more frequently written about, than those by sea, the history of the former as well as of the latter must be examined. The two classes of warfare have much in common. The principles of their strategy are identical; and, as regards some of their main features, so are those of the tactics followed in each. Consequently the history of land warfare has its lessons for those who desire to achieve success in warfare on the sea. That this has often been lost sight of is largely due to a misapprehension of the meaning of terms. The two words 'military' and 'army' have been given, in English, a narrower signification than they ought, and than they used, to have. Both terms have been gradually restricted in their use, and made to apply only to the land service. This has been unfortunate; because records of occurrences and discussions, capable of imparting much valuable instruction to naval officers, have been passed over by them as inapplicable to their own calling. It may have been noticed that Captain Mahan uses the word 'military' in its right sense as indicating the members, and the most important class of operations, of both land- and sea-forces. The French, through whom the word has come to us from the Latin, use it in the same sense as Mahan. _Un_militaire_ is a member of either a land army or a navy. The 'Naval _and_ Military Intelligence' of the English press is given under the heading 'Nouvelles Militaires' in the French. Our word 'army' also came to us direct from the French, who still apply it equally to both services--_armée_de_ _terre,_armée_de_mer_. It is a participle, and means 'armed,' the word 'force' being understood. The kindred words _armada_ in Spanish and Portuguese, and _armata_ in Italian--equally derived from the Latin--are used to indicate a fleet or navy, another name being given to a land army. The word 'army' was generally applied to a fleet in former days by the English, as will be seen on reference to the Navy Records Society's volumes on the defeat of the Spanish Armada. This short etymological discussion is not inappropriate here, for it shows why we should not neglect authorities on the history and conduct of war merely because they do not state specially that they are dealing with the naval branch of it. A very slight knowledge of history is quite enough to make us acquainted with the frequent recurrence of defeats and disasters inflicted on armed forces by antagonists whose power to do so had not been previously suspected. It has been the same on the sea as on the land, though--owing to more copious records--we may have a larger list of events on the latter. It will not be denied that it is of immense importance to us to inquire how this happened, and ascertain how--for the future--it may be rendered highly improbable in our own case. A brief enumeration of the more striking instances will make it plain that the events in question have been confined to no particular age and to no particular country. It may be said that the more elaborately organised and trained in peace time an armed force happened to be, the more unexpected always, and generally the more disastrous, was its downfall. Examples of this are to be found in the earliest campaigns of which we have anything like detailed accounts, and they continue to reappear down to very recent times. In the elaborate nature of its organisation and training there probably never has been an army surpassing that led by Xerxes into Greece twenty-four centuries ago. Something like eight years had been devoted to its preparation. The minute account of its review by Xerxes on the shores of the Hellespont proves that, however inefficient the semi-civilised contingents accompanying it may have been, the regular Persian army appeared, in discipline, equipment, and drill, to have come up to the highest standard of the most intense 'pipeclay' epoch. In numbers alone its superiority was considerable to the last, and down to the very eve of Platæa its commander openly displayed his contempt for his enemy. Yet no defeat could be more complete than that suffered by the Persians at the hands of their despised antagonists. As if to establish beyond dispute the identity of governing conditions in both land and maritime wars, the next very conspicuous disappointment of an elaborately organised force was that of the Athenian fleet at Syracuse. At the time Athens, without question, stood at the head of the naval world: her empire was in the truest sense the product of sea-power. Her navy, whilst unequalled in size, might claim, without excessive exaggeration, to be invincible. The great armament which the Athenians despatched to Sicily seemed, in numbers alone, capable of triumphing over all resistance. If the Athenian navy had already met with some explicable mishaps, it looked back with complacent confidence on the glorious achievements of more than half a century previously. It had enjoyed many years of what was so nearly a maritime peace that its principal exploits had been the subjection of states weak to insignificance on the sea as compared with imperial Athens. Profuse expenditure on its maintenance; the 'continued practice' of which Pericles boasted, the peace manoeuvres of a remote past; skilfully designed equipment; and the memory of past glories;--all these did not avail to save it from defeat at the hands of an enemy who only began to organise a fleet when the Athenians had invaded his coast waters. Ideal perfection as a regular army has never been so nearly reached as by that of Sparta. The Spartan spent his life in the barrack and the mess-room; his amusements were the exercises of the parade ground. For many generations a Spartan force had never been defeated in a pitched battle. We have had, in modern times, some instances of a hectoring soldiery arrogantly prancing amongst populations whose official defenders it had defeated in battle; but nonesuch could vie with the Spartans in the sublimity of their military self-esteem. Overweening confidence in the prowess of her army led Sparta to trample with ruthless disdain on the rights of others. The iniquitous attack on Thebes, a state thought incapable of effectual resentment, was avenged by the defeat of Leuctra, which announced the end of the political supremacy and the military predominance of Sparta. In the series of struggles with Carthage which resulted in putting Rome in a position enabling her eventually to win the dominion of the ancient world, the issue was to be decided on the water. Carthage was essentially a maritime state. The foundation of the city was effected by a maritime expedition; its dominions lay on the neighbouring coast or in regions to which the Carthaginians could penetrate only by traversing the sea. To Carthage her fleet was 'all in all': her navy, supported by large revenues and continuously maintained, was more of a 'regular' force than any modern navy before the second half of the seventeenth century. The Romans were almost without a fleet, and when they formed one the undertaking was ridiculed by the Carthaginians with an unconcealed assumption of superiority. The defeat of the latter off Mylæ, the first of several, came as a great surprise to them, and, as we can see now, indicated the eventual ruin of their city. We are so familiar with stories of the luxury and corruption of the Romans during the decline of the empire that we are likely to forget that the decline went on for centuries, and that their armed forces, however recruited, presented over and over again abundant signs of physical courage and vigour. The victory of Stilicho over Alaric at Pollentia has been aptly paralleled with that of Marius over the Cimbri. This was by no means the only achievement of the Roman army of the decadence. A century and a quarter later--when the Empire of the West had fallen and the general decline had made further progress--Belisarius conducted successful campaigns in Persia, in North Africa, in Sicily, and in Italy. The mere list of countries shows that the mobility and endurance of the Roman forces during a period in which little creditable is generally looked for were not inferior to their discipline and courage. Yet they met with disastrous defeat after all, and at the hands of races which they had more than once proved themselves capable of withstanding. It could not have been because the later Roman equipment was inferior, the organisation less elaborate, or the training less careful than those of their barbarian enemies. Though it is held by some in these days that the naval power of Spain in the latter part of the sixteenth century was not really formidable, that does not appear to have been the opinion of contemporaries, whether Spaniards or otherwise. Some English seamen of the time did, indeed, declare their conviction that Philip the Second's navy was not so much to be feared as many of their fellow-countrymen thought; but, in the public opinion of the age, Spain was the greatest, or indeed the one great, naval state. She possessed a more systematically organised navy than any other country having the ocean for a field of action had then, or till long afterwards. Even Genoa and Venice, whose operations, moreover, were restricted to Mediterranean waters, could not have been served by more finished specimens of the naval officer and the man-of-war's man of the time than a large proportion of the military _personnel_ of the regular Spanish fleet. As Basques, Castilians, Catalans, or Aragonese, or all combined, the crews of Spanish fighting ships could look back upon a glorious past. It was no wonder that, by common consent of those who manned it, the title of 'Invincible' was informally conferred upon the Armada which, in 1588, sailed for the English Channel. How it fared is a matter of common knowledge. No one could have been more surprised at the result than the gallant officers who led its squadrons. Spain furnishes another instance of the unexpected overthrow of a military body to which long cohesion and precise organisation were believed to have secured invincibility. The Spanish was considered the 'most redoubtable infantry in Europe' till its unexpected defeat at Rocroi. The effects of this defeat were far-reaching. Notwithstanding the bravery of her sons, which has never been open to question, and, in fact, has always been conspicuous, the military superiority of Spain was broken beyond repair. In the history of other countries are to be found examples equally instructive. The defeats of Almansa, Brihuega, and Villaviciosa were nearly contemporary with the victories of Blenheim and Ramillies; and the thousands of British troops compelled to lay down their arms at the first named belonged to the same service as their fellow-countrymen who so often marched to victory under Marlborough. A striking example of the disappointment which lies in wait for military self-satisfaction was furnished by the defeat of Soubise at Rossbach by Frederick the Great. Before the action the French had ostentatiously shown their contempt for their opponent. The service which gloried in the exploits of Anson and of Hawke discerned the approach of the Seven Years' war without misgiving; and the ferocity shown in the treatment of Byng enables us now to measure the surprise caused by the result of the action off Minorca. There were further surprises in store for the English Navy. At the end of the Seven Years' war its reputation for invincibility was generally established. Few, perhaps none, ventured to doubt that, if there were anything like equality between the opposing forces, a meeting between the French and the British fleets could have but one result--viz. the decisive victory of the latter. Experience in the English Channel, on the other side of the Atlantic, and in the Bay of Bengal--during the war of American Independence--roughly upset this flattering anticipation. Yet, in the end, the British Navy came out the unquestioned victor in the struggle: which proves the excellence of its quality. After every allowance is made for the incapacity of the Government, we must suspect that there was something else which so often frustrated the efforts of such a formidable force as the British Navy of the day must essentially have been. On land the surprises were even more mortifying; and it is no exaggeration to say that, a year before it occurred, such an event as the surrender of Burgoyne's army to an imperfectly organised and trained body of provincials would have seemed impossible. The army which Frederick the Great bequeathed to Prussia was universally regarded as the model of efficiency. Its methods were copied in other countries, and foreign officers desiring to excel in their profession made pilgrimages to Berlin and Potsdam to drink of the stream of military knowledge at its source. When it came in contact with the tumultuous array of revolutionary France, the performances of the force that preserved the tradition of the great Frederick were disappointingly wanting in brilliancy. A few years later it suffered an overwhelming disaster. The Prussian defeat at Jena was serious as a military event; its political effects were of the utmost importance. Yet many who were involved in that disaster took, later on, an effective part in the expulsion of the conquerors from their country, and in settling the history of Europe for nearly half a century at Waterloo. The brilliancy of the exploits of Wellington and the British army in Portugal and Spain has thrown into comparative obscurity that part of the Peninsular war which was waged for years by the French against the Spaniards. Spain, distracted by palace intrigues and political faction, with the flower of her troops in a distant comer of Europe, and several of her most important fortresses in the hands of her assailant, seemed destined to fall an easy and a speedy prey to the foremost military power in the world. The attitude of the invaders made it evident that they believed themselves to be marching to certain victory. Even the British soldiers--of whom there were never many more than 50,000 in the Peninsula, and for some years not half that number--were disdained until they had been encountered. The French arms met with disappointment after disappointment. On one occasion a whole French army, over 18,000 strong, surrendered to a Spanish force, and became prisoners of war. Before the struggle closed there were six marshals of France with nearly 400,000 troops in the Peninsula. The great efforts which these figures indicate were unsuccessful, and the intruders were driven from the country. Yet they were the comrades of the victors of Austerlitz, of Jena, and of Wagram, and part of that mighty organisation which had planted its victorious standards in Berlin and Vienna, held down Prussia like a conquered province, and shattered into fragments the holy Roman Empire. In 1812 the British Navy was at the zenith of its glory. It had not only defeated all its opponents; it had also swept the seas of the fleets of the historic maritime powers--of Spain, of France, which had absorbed the Italian maritime states, of the Netherlands, of Denmark. Warfare, nearly continuous for eighteen, and uninterrupted for nine years, had transformed the British Navy into an organisation more nearly resembling a permanently maintained force than it had been throughout its previous history. Its long employment in serious hostilities had saved it from some of the failings which the narrow spirit inherent in a close profession is only too sure to foster. It had, however, a confidence--not unjustified by its previous exploits--in its own invincibility. This confidence did not diminish, and was not less ostentatiously exhibited, as its great achievements receded more and more into the past. The new enemy who now appeared on the farther side of the Atlantic was not considered formidable. In the British Navy there were 145,000 men. In the United States Navy the number of officers, seamen, and marines available for ocean service was less than 4500--an insignificant numerical addition to the enemies with whom we were already contending. The subsequent and rapid increase in the American _personnel_ to 18,000 shows the small extent to which it could be considered a 'regular' force, its permanent nucleus being overwhelmingly outnumbered by the hastily enrolled additions. Our defeats in the war of 1812 have been greatly exaggerated; but, all the same, they did constitute rebuffs to our naval self-esteem which were highly significant in themselves, and deserve deep attention. Rebuffs of the kind were not confined to the sea service, and at New Orleans our army, which numbered in its ranks soldiers of Busaco, Fuentes de Onoro, and Salamanca, met with a serious defeat. When the Austro-Prussian war broke out in 1866, the Austrian commander-in-chief, General Benedek, published an order, probably still in the remembrance of many, which officially declared the contempt for the enemy felt in the Imperial army. Even those who perceived that the Prussian forces were not fit subjects of contempt counted with confidence on the victory of the Austrians. Yet the latter never gained a considerable success in their combats with the Prussians; and within a few weeks from the beginning of hostilities the general who had assumed such a lofty tone of superiority in speaking of his foes had to implore his sovereign to make peace to avoid further disasters. At the beginning of the Franco-German war of 1870, the widespread anticipation of French victories was clearly shown by the unanimity with which the journalists of various nationalities illustrated their papers with maps giving the country between the French frontier and Berlin, and omitting the part of France extending to Paris. In less than five weeks from the opening of hostilities events had made it certain that a map of the country to the eastward of Lorraine would be practically useless to a student of the campaign, unless it were to follow the route of the hundreds of thousands of French soldiers who were conveyed to Germany as prisoners of war. It is to be specially noted that in the above enumeration only contests in which the result was unexpected--unexpected not only by the beaten side but also by impartial observers--have been specified. In all wars one side or the other is defeated; and it has not been attempted to give a general _résumé_ of the history of war. The object has been to show the frequency--in all ages and in all circumstances of systematic, as distinguished from savage, warfare--of the defeat of the force which by general consent was regarded as certain to win. Now it is obvious that a result so frequently reappearing must have a distinct cause, which is well worth trying to find out. Discovery of the cause may enable us to remove it in the future, and thus prevent results which are likely to be all the more disastrous because they have not been foreseen. Professional military writers--an expression which, as before explained, includes naval--do not help us much in the prosecution of the search which is so eminently desirable. As a rule, they have contrived rather to hide than to bring to light the object sought for. It would be doing them injustice to assume that this has been done with deliberate intention. It is much more likely due to professional bias, which exercises over the minds of members of definitely limited professions incessant and potent domination. When alluding to occurrences included in the enumeration given above, they exhibit signs of a resolve to defend their profession against possible imputations of inefficiency, much more than a desire to get to the root of the matter. This explains the unremitting eagerness of military writers to extol the special qualities developed by long-continued service habits and methods. They are always apprehensive of the possibility of credit being given to fighting bodies more loosely organised and less precisely trained in peace time than the body to which they themselves belong. This sensitiveness as to the merits of their particular profession, and impatience of even indirect criticism, are unnecessary. There is nothing in the history of war to show that an untrained force is better than a trained force. On the contrary, all historical evidence is on the other side. In quite as many instances as are presented by the opposite, the forces which put an unexpected end to the military supremacy long possessed by their antagonists were themselves, in the strictest sense of the word, 'regulars.' The Thebans whom Epaminondas led to victory over the Spartans at Leuctra no more resembled a hasty levy of armed peasants or men imperfectly trained as soldiers than did Napoleon's army which overthrew the Prussians at Jena, or the Germans who defeated the French at Gravelotte and Sedan. Nothing could have been less like an 'irregular' force than the fleet with which La Galissonnière beat Byng off Minorca, or the French fleets which, in the war of American Independence, so often disappointed the hopes of the British. The records of war on land and by sea--especially the extracts from them included in the enumeration already given--lend no support to the silly suggestion that efficient defence can be provided for a country by 'an untrained man with a rifle behind a hedge.' The truth is that it was not the absence of organisation or training on one side which enabled it to defeat the other. If the beaten side had been elaborately organised and carefully trained, there must have been something bad in its organisation or its methods. Now this 'something bad,' this defect--wherever it has disclosed itself--has been enough to neutralise the most splendid courage and the most unselfish devotion. It has been seen that armies and navies the valour of which has never been questioned have been defeated by antagonists sometimes as highly organised as they were, and sometimes much less so. This ought to put us on the track of the cause which has produced an effect so little anticipated. A 'regular' permanently embodied or maintained service of fighting men is always likely to develop a spirit of intense professional self-satisfaction. The more highly organised it is, and the more sharply its official frontiers are defined, the more intense is this spirit likely to become. A 'close' service of the kind grows restive at outside criticism, and yields more and more to the conviction that no advance in efficiency is possible unless it be the result of suggestions emanating from its own ranks. Its view of things becomes narrower and narrower, whereas efficiency in war demands the very widest view. Ignorant critics call the spirit thus engendered 'professional conservatism'; the fact being that change is not objected to--is even welcomed, however frequent it may be, provided only that it is suggested from inside. An immediate result is 'unreality and formalism of peace training'--to quote a recent thoughtful military critic. As the formalism becomes more pronounced, so the unreality increases. The proposer or introducer of a system of organisation of training or of exercises is often, perhaps usually, capable of distinguishing between the true and the false, the real and the unreal. His successors, the men who continue the execution of his plans, can hardly bring to their work the open mind possessed by the originator; they cannot escape from the influence of the methods which have been provided for them ready made, and which they are incessantly engaged in practising. This is not a peculiarity of the military profession in either branch--it extends to nearly every calling; but in the profession specified, which is a service rather than a freely exercised profession, it is more prominent. Human thought always has a tendency to run in grooves, and in military institutions the grooves are purposely made deep, and departure from them rigorously forbidden. All exercises, even those designed to have the widest scope, tend to become mere drill. Each performance produces, and bequeaths for use on the next occasion, a set of customary methods of execution which are readily adopted by the subsequent performers. There grows up in time a kind of body of customary law governing the execution of peace operations--the principles being peace-operation principles wholly and solely--which law few dare to disobey, and which eventually obtains the sanction of official written regulations. As Scharnhorst, quoted by Baron von der Goltz, said, 'We have begun to place the art of war higher than military virtues.' The eminent authority who thus expressed himself wrote the words before the great catastrophe of Jena; and, with prophetic insight sharpened by his fear of the menacing tendency of peace-training formalism and unreality, added his conviction that 'this has been the ruin of nations from time immemorial.' Independently of the evidence of history already adduced, it would be reasonable to conclude that the tendency is strengthened and made more menacing when the service in which it prevails becomes more highly specialised. If custom and regulation leave little freedom of action to the individual members of an armed force, the difficulty--sure to be experienced by them--of shaking themselves clear of their fetters when the need for doing so arises is increased. To realise--when peace is broken--the practical conditions of war demands an effort of which the unfettered intelligence alone seems capable. The great majority of successful leaders in war on both elements have not been considerably, or at all, superior in intellectual acuteness to numbers of their fellows; but they have had strength of character, and their minds were not squeezed in a mould into a commonplace and uniform pattern. The 'canker of a long peace,' during recent years at any rate, is not manifested in disuse of arms, but in mistaken methods. For a quarter of a century the civilised world has tended more and more to become a drill-ground, but the spirit dominating it has been that of the pedant. There has been more exercise and less reality. The training, especially of officers, becomes increasingly scholastic. This, and the deterioration consequent on it, are not merely modern phenomena. They appear in all ages. 'The Sword of the Saracens,' says Gibbon, 'became less formidable when their youth was drawn from the camp to the college.' The essence of pedantry is want of originality. It is nourished on imitation. For the pedant to imitate is enough of itself; to him the suitability of the model is immaterial. Thus military bodies have been ruined by mimicry of foreign arrangements quite inapplicable to the conditions of the mimics' country. More than twenty years ago Sir Henry Maine, speaking of the war of American Independence, said, 'Next to their stubborn valour, the chief secret of the colonists' success was the incapacity of the English generals, trained in the stiff Prussian system soon to perish at Jena, to adapt themselves to new conditions of warfare.' He pointed out that the effect of this uncritical imitation of what was foreign was again experienced by men 'full of admiration of a newer German system.' We may not be able to explain what it is, but, all the same, there does exist something which we call national characteristics. The aim of all training should be to utilise these to the full, not to ignore them. The naval methods of a continental state with relatively small oceanic interests, or with but a brief experience of securing these, cannot be very applicable to a great maritime state whose chief interests have been on the seas for many years. How is all this applicable to the ultimate efficiency of the British Navy? It may be allowed that there is a good deal of truth in what has been written above; but it may be said that considerations sententiously presented cannot claim to have much practical value so long as they are absolute and unapplied. The statement cannot be disputed. It is unquestionably necessary to make the application. The changes in naval _matériel_, so often spoken of, introduced within the last fifty years have been rivalled by the changes in the composition of the British Navy. The human element remains in original individual character exactly the same as it always was; but there has been a great change in the opportunities and facilities offered for the development of the faculties most desired in men-of-war's men. All reform--using the word in its true sense of alteration, and not in its strained sense of improvement--has been in the direction of securing perfect uniformity. If we take the particular directly suggested by the word just used, we may remember, almost with astonishment, that there was no British naval uniform for anyone below the rank of officer till after 1860. Now, at every inspection, much time is taken up in ascertaining if the narrow tape embroidery on a frock collar is of the regulation width, and if the rows of tape are the proper distance apart. The diameter of a cloth cap is officially defined; and any departure from the regulation number of inches (and fractions of an inch) is as sure of involving punishment as insubordination. It is the same in greater things. Till 1853--in which year the change came into force--there was no permanent British naval service except the commissioned and warrant officers. Not till several years later did the new 'continuous service' men equal half of the bluejacket aggregate. Now, every bluejacket proper serves continuously, and has been in the navy since boyhood. The training of the boys is made uniform. No member of the ship's company--except a domestic--is now allowed to set foot on board a sea-going ship till he has been put through a training course which is exactly like that through which every other member of his class passes. Even during the comparatively brief period in which young officers entered the navy by joining the college at Portsmouth, it was only the minority who received the special academic training. Till the establishment of the _Illustrious_ training school in 1855, the great majority of officers joined their first ship as individuals from a variety of different and quite independent quarters. Now, every one of them has, as a preliminary condition, to spend a certain time--the same for all--in a school. Till a much later period, every engineer entered separately. Now, passing through a training establishment is obligatory for engineers also. Within the service there has been repeated formation of distinct branches or 'schools,' such as the further specialised specialist gunnery and torpedo sections. It was not till 1860 that uniform watch bills, quarter bills, and station bills were introduced, and not till later that their general adoption was made compulsory. Up to that time the internal organisation and discipline of a ship depended on her own officers, it being supposed that capacity to command a ship implied, at least, capacity to distribute and train her crew. The result was a larger scope than is now thought permissible for individual capability. However short-lived some particular drill or exercise may be, however soon it is superseded by another, as long as it lasts the strictest conformity to it is rigorously enforced. Even the number of times that an exercise has to be performed, difference in class of ship or in the nature of the service on which she is employed notwithstanding, is authoritatively laid down. Still more noteworthy, though much less often spoken of than the change in _matériel_, has been the progress of the navy towards centralisation. Naval duties are now formulated at a desk on shore, and the mode of carrying them out notified to the service in print. All this would have been quite as astonishing to the contemporaries of Nelson or of Exmouth and Codrington as the aspect of a battleship or of a 12-inch breech-loading gun. Let it be clearly understood that none of these things has been mentioned with the intention of criticising them either favourably or unfavourably. They have been cited in order that it may be seen that the change in naval affairs is by no means one in _matériel_ only, and that the transformation in other matters has been stupendous and revolutionary beyond all previous experience. It follows inevitably from this that we shall wage war in future under conditions dissimilar from any hitherto known. In this very fact there lies the making of a great surprise. It will have appeared from the historical statement given above how serious a surprise sometimes turns out to be. Its consequences, always significant, are not unfrequently far-reaching. The question of practical moment is: How are we to guard ourselves against such a surprise? To this a satisfactory answer can be given. It might be summarised in the admonitions: abolish over-centralisation; give proper scope to individual capacity and initiative; avoid professional self-sufficiency. When closely looked at, it is one of the strangest manifestations of the spirit of modern navies that, though the issues of land warfare are rarely thought instructive, the peace methods of land forces are extensively and eagerly copied by the sea-service. The exercises of the parade ground and the barrack square are taken over readily, and so are the parade ground and the barrack square themselves. This may be right. The point is that it is novel, and that a navy into the training of which the innovation has entered must differ considerably from one that was without it and found no need of it during a long course of serious wars. At any rate, no one will deny that parade-ground evolutions and barrack-square drill expressly aim at the elimination of individuality, or just the quality to the possession of which we owe the phenomenon called, in vulgar speech, the 'handy man.' Habits and sentiments based on a great tradition, and the faculties developed by them, are not killed all at once; but innovation in the end annihilates them, and their not having yet entirely disappeared gives no ground for doubting their eventual, and even near, extinction. The aptitudes still universally most prized in the seaman were produced and nourished by practices and under conditions no longer allowed to prevail. Should we lose those aptitudes, are we likely to reach the position in war gained by our predecessors? For the British Empire the matter is vital: success in maritime war, decisive and overwhelming, is indispensable to our existence. We have to consider the desirability of 'taking stock' of our moral, as well as of our material, naval equipment: to ascertain where the accumulated effect of repeated innovations has carried us. The mere fact of completing the investigation will help us to rate at their true value the changes which have been introduced; will show us what to retain, what to reject, and what to substitute. There is no essential vagueness in these allusions. If they seem vague, it is because the moment for particularising has not yet come. The public opinion of the navy must first be turned in the right direction. It must be led to question the soundness of the basis on which many present methods rest. Having once begun to do this, we shall find no difficulty in settling, in detail and with precision, what the true elements of naval efficiency are. IV[59] THE HISTORICAL RELATIONS BETWEEN THE NAVY AND THE MERCHANT SERVICE [Footnote 59: Written in 1898. (_The_Times_.)] The regret, often expressed, that the crews of British merchant ships now include a large proportion of foreigners, is founded chiefly on the apprehension that a well-tested and hitherto secure recruiting ground for the navy is likely to be closed. It has been stated repeatedly, and the statement has been generally accepted without question, that in former days, when a great expansion of our fleet was forced on us by the near approach of danger, we relied upon the ample resources of our merchant service to complete the manning of our ships of war, even in a short time, and that the demands of the navy upon the former were always satisfied. It is assumed that compliance with those demands was as a rule not voluntary, but was enforced by the press-gang. The resources, it is said, existed and were within reach, and the method employed in drawing upon them was a detail of comparatively minor importance; our merchant ships were manned by native-born British seamen, of whom tens of thousands were always at hand, so that if volunteers were not forthcoming the number wanted could be 'pressed' into the Royal service. It is lamented that at the present day the condition of affairs is different, that the presence in it of a large number of foreigners forbids us to regard with any confidence the merchant service as an adequate naval recruiting ground in the event of war, even though we are ready to substitute for the system of 'impressment'--which is now considered both undesirable and impossible--rewards likely to attract volunteers. The importance of the subject need not be dwelt upon. The necessity to a maritime state of a powerful navy, including abundant resources for manning it, is now no more disputed than the law of gravitation. If the proportion of foreigners in our merchant service is too high it is certainly deplorable; and if, being already too high, that proportion is rising, an early remedy is urgently needed. I do not propose to speak here of that matter, which is grave enough to require separate treatment. My object is to present the results of an inquiry into the history of the relations between the navy and the merchant service, from which will appear to what extent the latter helped in bringing the former up to a war footing, how far its assistance was affected by the presence in it of any foreign element, and in what way impressment ensured or expedited the rendering of the assistance. The inquiry has necessarily been largely statistical; consequently the results will often be given in a statistical form. This has the great advantage of removing the conclusions arrived at from the domain of mere opinion into that of admitted fact. The statistics used are those which have not been, and are not likely to be, questioned. It is desirable that this should be understood, because official figures have not always commanded universal assent. Lord Brougham, speaking in the House of Lords in 1849 of tables issued by the Board of Trade, said that a lively impression prevailed 'that they could prove anything and everything'; and in connection with them he adopted some unnamed person's remark, 'Give me half an hour and the run of the multiplication table and I'll engage to payoff the National Debt.' In this inquiry there has been no occasion to use figures relating to the time of Lord Brougham's observations. We will take the last three great maritime wars in which our country has been engaged. These were: the war of American Independence, the war with Revolutionary France to the Peace of Amiens, and the war with Napoleon. The period covered by these three contests roughly corresponds to the last quarter of the eighteenth and the first fifteen years of the nineteenth century. In each of the three wars there was a sudden and large addition to the number of seamen in the navy; and in each there were considerable annual increases as the struggle continued. It must be understood that we shall deal with the case of seamen only; the figures, which also were large, relating to the marines not being included in our survey because it has never been contended that their corps looked to the merchant service for any appreciable proportion of its recruits. In taking note of the increase of seamen voted for any year it will be necessary to make allowance also for the 'waste' of the previous year. The waste, even in the latter part of the last century, was large. Commander Robinson, in his valuable work, 'The British Fleet,' gives details showing that the waste during the Seven Years' war was so great as to be truly shocking. In 1895 Lord Brassey (_Naval_Annual_) allowed for the _personnel_ of the navy, even in these days of peace and advanced sanitary science, a yearly waste of 5 per cent., a percentage which is, I expect, rather lower than that officially accepted. We may take it as certain that, during the three serious wars above named, the annual waste was never less than 6 per cent. This is, perhaps, to put it too low; but it is better to understate the case than to appear to exaggerate it. The recruiting demand, therefore, for a year of increased armament will be the sum of the increase in men _plus_ the waste on the previous year's numbers. The capacity of the British merchant service to supply what was demanded would, of course, be all the greater the smaller the number of foreigners it contained in its ranks. This is not only generally admitted at the present day; it is also frequently pointed out when it is asserted that the conditions now are less favourable than they were owing to a recent influx of foreign seamen. The fact, however, is that there were foreigners on board British merchant ships, and, it would seem, in considerable numbers, long before even the war of American Independence. By 13 George II, c. 3, foreigners, not exceeding three-fourths of the crew, were permitted in British vessels, 'and in two years to be naturalised.' By 13 George II, c. 17, exemption from impressment was granted to 'every person, being a foreigner, who shall serve in any merchant ship, or other trading vessel or privateer belonging to a subject of the Crown of Great Britain.' The Acts quoted were passed about the time of the 'Jenkins' Ear War' and the war of the Austrian Succession; but the fact that foreigners were allowed to form the majority of a British vessel's crew is worthy of notice. The effect and, probably, the object of this legislation were not so much to permit foreign seamen to enter our merchant service as to permit the number of those already there to be increased. It was in 1759 that Lord, then Commander, Duncan reported that the crew of the hired merchant ship _Royal_ _Exchange_ consisted 'to a large extent of boys and foreigners, many of whom could not speak English.' In 1770 by 11 George III, c. 3, merchant ships were allowed to have three-fourths of their crews foreigners till the 1st February 1772. Acts permitting the same proportion of foreign seamen and extending the time were passed in 1776, 1778, 1779, 1780, 1781, and 1782. A similar Act was passed in 1792. It was in contemplation to reduce the foreign proportion, after the war, to one-fourth. In 1794 it was enacted (34 George III, c. 68), 'for the encouragement of British seamen,' that after the expiration of six months from the conclusion of the war, vessels in the foreign, as distinguished from the coasting, trade were to have their commanders and three-fourths of their crews British subjects. From the wording of the Act it seems to have been taken for granted that the proportion of three-fourths _bona_fide_ British-born seamen was not likely to be generally exceeded. It will have been observed that in all the legislation mentioned, from the time of George II downwards, it was assumed as a matter of course that there were foreign seamen on board our merchant vessels. The United States citizens in the British Navy, about whom there was so much discussion on the eve of the war of 1812, came principally from our own merchant service, and not direct from the American. It is remarkable that, until a recent date, the presence of foreigners in British vessels, even in time of peace, was not loudly or generally complained of. Mr. W. S. Lindsay, writing in 1876, stated that the throwing open the coasting trade in 1855 had 'neither increased on the average the number of foreigners we had hitherto been allowed to employ in our ships, nor deteriorated the number and quality of British seamen.' I have brought forward enough evidence to show that, as far as the merchant service was the proper recruiting ground for the British Navy, it was not one which was devoid of a considerable foreign element. We may, nevertheless, feel certain that that element never amounted to, and indeed never nearly approached, three-fourths of the whole number of men employed in our 'foreign-going' vessels. For this, between 50,000 and 60,000 men would have been required, at least in the last of the three wars above mentioned. If all the foreign mercantile marines at the present day, when nearly all have been so largely increased, were to combine, they could not furnish the number required after their own wants had been satisfied. During the period under review some of the leading commercial nations were at war with us; so that few, if any, seamen could have come to us from them. Our custom-house statistics indicate an increase in the shipping trade of the neutral nations sufficient to have rendered it impossible for them to spare us any much larger number of seamen. Therefore, it is extremely difficult to resist the conclusion that during the wars the composition of our merchant service remained nearly what it was during peace. It contained a far from insignificant proportion of foreigners; and that proportion was augmented, though by no means enormously, whilst war was going on. This leads us to the further conclusion that, if our merchant service supplied the navy with many men, it could recover only a small part of the number from foreign countries. In fact, any that it could give it had to replace from our own population almost exclusively. The question now to be considered is, What was the capacity of the merchant service for supplying the demands of the navy? In the year 1770 the number of seamen voted for the navy was 11,713. Owing to a fear of a difficulty with Spain about the Falkland Islands, the number for the following year was suddenly raised to 31,927. Consequently, the increase was 20,214, which, added to the 'waste' on the previous year, made the whole naval demand about 21,000. We have not got statistics of the seamen of the whole British Empire for this period, but we have figures which will enable us to compute the number with sufficient accuracy for the purpose in hand. In England and Wales there were some 59,000 seamen, and those of the rest of the empire amounted to about 21,000. Large as the 'waste' was in the Royal Navy, it was, and still is, much larger in the merchant service. We may safely put it at 8 per cent. at least. Therefore, simply to keep up its numbers--80,000--the merchant service would have had to engage fully 6400 fresh hands. In view of these figures, it is difficult to believe that it could have furnished the navy with 21,000 men, or, indeed, with any number approximating thereto. It could not possibly have done so without restricting its operations, if only for a time. So far were its operations from shrinking that they were positively extended. The English tonnage 'cleared outwards' from our ports was for the years mentioned as follows: 1770, 703,495; 1771, 773,390; 1772 818,108. Owing to the generally slow rate of sailing when on voyages and to the great length of time taken in unloading and reloading abroad--both being often effected 'in the stream' and with the ship's own boats--the figures for clearances outward much more nearly represented the amount of our 'foreign-going' tonnage a century ago than similar figures would now in these days of rapid movement. After 1771 the navy was reduced and kept at a relatively low standard till 1775. In that year the state of affairs in America rendered an increase of our naval forces necessary. In 1778 we were at war with France; in 1779 with Spain as well; and in December 1780 we had the Dutch for enemies in addition. In September 1783 we were again at peace. The way in which we had to increase the navy will be seen in the following table:-- ------------------------------------------------------- | | | | | Total | | | Seamen | | | additional | | | voted for | | | number | | Year. | the navy | Increase. | 'Waste.' | required. | |-------------------------------------------------------| | 1774 | 15,646 | -- | -- | -- | | 1775 | 18,000 | 2,354 | 936 | 3,290 | | 1776 | 21,335 | 3,335 | 1,080 | 4,415 | | 1777 | 34,871 | 13,536 | 1,278 | 14,184 | | 1778 | 48,171 | 13,300 | 2,088 | 15,388 | | 1779 | 52,611 | 4,440 | 2,886 | 7,326 | | 1780 | 66,221 | 13,610 | 3,156 | 16,766 | | 1781 | 69,683 | 3,462 | 3,972 | 7,434 | | 1782 | 78,695 | 9,012 | 4,176 | 13,188 | | 1783 | 84,709 | 6,014 | 4,722 | 10,736 | ------------------------------------------------------- It cannot be believed that the merchant service, with its then dimensions, could have possibly satisfied these great and repeated demands, besides making up its own 'waste,' unless its size were much reduced. After 1777, indeed, there was a considerable fall in the figures of English tonnage 'outwards.' I give these figures down to the first year of peace. 1777 736,234 tons 'outwards.' 1778 657,238 " " 1779 590,911 " " 1780 619,462 " " 1781 547,953 " " 1782 552,851 " " 1783 795,669 " " 1784 846,355 " " At first sight it would seem as if there had, indeed, been a shrinkage. We find, however, on further examination that in reality there had been none. 'During the [American] war the ship-yards in every port of Britain were full of employment; and consequently new ship-yards were set up in places where ships had never been built before.' Even the diminution in the statistics of outward clearances indicated no diminution in the number of merchant ships or their crews. The missing tonnage was merely employed elsewhere. 'At this time there were about 1000 vessels of private property employed by the Government as transports and in other branches of the public service.' Of course there had been some diminution due to the transfer of what had been British-American shipping to a new independent flag. This would not have set free any men to join the navy. When we come to the Revolutionary war we find ourselves confronted with similar conditions. The case of this war has often been quoted as proving that in former days the navy had to rely practically exclusively on the merchant service when expansion was necessary. In giving evidence before a Parliamentary committee about fifty years ago, Admiral Sir T. Byam Martin, referring to the great increase of the fleet in 1793, said, 'It was the merchant service that enabled us to man some sixty ships of the line and double that number of frigates and smaller vessels.' He added that we had been able to bring promptly together 'about 35,000 or 40,000 men of the mercantile marine.' The requirements of the navy amounted, as stated by the admiral, to about 40,000 men; to be exact, 39,045. The number of seamen in the British Empire in 1793 was 118,952. In the next year the number showed no diminution; in fact it increased, though but slightly, to 119,629. How our merchant service could have satisfied the above-mentioned immense demand on it in addition to making good its waste and then have even increased is a thing that baffles comprehension. No such example of elasticity is presented by any other institution. Admiral Byam Martin spoke so positively, and, indeed, with such justly admitted authority, that we should have to give up the problem as insoluble were it not for other passages in the admiral's own evidence. It may be mentioned that all the witnesses did not hold his views. Sir James Stirling, an officer of nearly if not quite equal authority, differed from him. In continuation of his evidence Sir T. Byam Martin stated that afterwards the merchant service could give only a small and occasional supply, as ships arrived from foreign ports or as apprentices grew out of their time. Now, during the remaining years of this war and throughout the Napoleonic war, great as were the demands of the navy, they only in one year, that of the rupture of the Peace of Amiens, equalled the demand at the beginning of the Revolutionary war. From the beginning of hostilities till the final close of the conflict in 1815 the number of merchant seamen fell only once--viz. in 1795, the fall being 3200. In 1795, however, the demand for men for the navy was less than half that of 1794. The utmost, therefore, that Sir T. Byam Martin desired to establish was that, on a single occasion in an unusually protracted continuance of war, the strength of our merchant service enabled it to reinforce the navy up to the latter's requirements; but its doing so prevented it from giving much help afterwards. All the same, men in large numbers had to be found for the navy yearly for a long time. This will appear from the tables which follow:-- REVOLUTIONARY WAR ------------------------------------------------------- | | | | | Total | | | Seamen | | | additional | | | voted for | | | number | | Year. | the navy | Increase. | 'Waste.' | required. | |-------------------------------------------------------| | 1794 | 72,885 | 36,885 | 2,160 | 39,045 | | 1795 | 85,000 | 12,115 | 4,368 | 16,483 | | 1796 | 92,000 | 7,000 | 5,100 | 12,100 | | 1797 | 100,000 | 8,000 | 5,520 | 13,520 | | 1798 | 100,000 | -- | 6,000 | 6,000 | | 1799 | 100,000 | -- | 6,000 | 6,000 | | 1800 | 97,300 | -- | -- | -- | | 1801 | 105,000 | 7,700 | Absorbed | 7,700 | | | | | by | | | | | | previous | | | | | |reduction.| | ------------------------------------------------------- NAPOLEONIC WAR ------------------------------------------------------- | | | | | Total | | | Seamen | | | additional | | | voted for | | | number | | Year. | the navy | Increase. | 'Waste.' | required. | |-------------------------------------------------------| | | /38,000\ | | | | | 1803 | \77,600/ | 39,600 | -- | 39,600 | | 1804 | 78,000 | 400 | 3,492 | 3,892 | | | | |(for nine | | | | | | months) | | | 1805 | 90,000 | 12,000 | 4,680 | 16,680 | | 1806 | 91,000 | 1,000 | 5,400 | 6,400 | | 1807 | 98,600 | 7,600 | 5,460 | 13,060 | | 1808 | 98,600 | -- | 5,460 | 5,460 | | 1809 | 98,600 | -- | 5,460 | 5,460 | | 1810 | 113,600 | 15,000 | 5,460 | 20,460 | | 1811 | 113,600 | -- | 6,816 | 6,816 | | 1812 | 113,600 | -- | 6,816 | 6,816 | | 1813 | 108,600 | Reduction | -- | -- | | | /86,000\ | | | | | 1814 | \74,000/ | Do. | -- | -- | ------------------------------------------------------- (No 'waste' is allowed for when there has been a reduction.) It is a reasonable presumption that, except perhaps on a single occasion, the merchant service did not furnish the men required--not from any want of patriotism or of public spirit, but simply because it was impossible. Even as regards the single exception the evidence is not uncontested; and by itself, though undoubtedly strong, it is not convincing, in view of the well-grounded presumptions the other way. The question then that naturally arises is--If the navy did not fill up its complements from the merchant service, how did it fill them up? The answer is easy. Our naval complements were filled up largely with boys, largely with landsmen, largely with fishermen, whose numbers permitted this without inconvenience to their trade in general, and, to a small extent, with merchant seamen. It may be suggested that the men wanted by the navy could have been passed on to it from our merchant vessels, which could then complete their own crews with boys, landsmen, and fishermen. It was the age in which Dr. Price was a great authority on public finance, the age of Mr. Pitt's sinking fund, when borrowed money was repaid with further borrowings; so that a corresponding roundabout method for manning the navy may have had attractions for some people. A conclusive reason why it was not adopted is that its adoption would have been possible only at the cost of disorganising such a great industrial undertaking as our maritime trade. That this disorganisation did not arise is proved by the fact that our merchant service flourished and expanded. It is widely supposed that, wherever the men wanted for the navy may have come from, they were forced into it by the system of 'impressment.' The popular idea of a man-of-war's 'lower deck' of a century ago is that it was inhabited by a ship's company which had been captured by the press-gang and was restrained from revolting by the presence of a detachment of marines. The prevalence of the belief that seamen were 'raised'--'recruited' is not a naval term--for the navy by forcible means can be accounted for without difficulty. The supposed ubiquity of the press-gang and its violent procedure added much picturesque detail, and even romance, to stories of naval life. Stories connected with it, if authentic, though rare, would, indeed, make a deep impression on the public; and what was really the exception would be taken for the rule. There is no evidence to show that even from the middle of the seventeenth century any considerable number of men was raised by forcible impressment. I am not acquainted with a single story of the press-gang which, even when much embellished, professes to narrate the seizure of more than an insignificant body. The allusions to forcible impressment made by naval historians are, with few exceptions, complaints of the utter inefficiency of the plan. In Mr. David, Hannay's excellent 'Short History of the Royal Navy' will be found more than one illustration of its inefficient working in the seventeenth century. Confirmation, if confirmation is needed, can be adduced on the high authority of Mr. M. Oppenheim. We wanted tens of thousands, and forcible impressment was giving us half-dozens, or, at the best, scores. Even of those it provided, but a small proportion was really forced to serve. Mr. Oppenheim tells us of an Act of Parliament (17 Charles I) legalising forcible impressment, which seems to have been passed to satisfy the sailors. If anyone should think this absurd, he may be referred to the remarkable expression of opinion by some of the older seamen of Sunderland and Shields when the Russian war broke out in 1854. The married sailors, they said, naturally waited for the impressment, for 'we know that has always been and always will be preceded by the proclamation of bounty.' The most fruitful source of error as to the procedure of the press-gang has been a deficient knowledge of etymology. The word has, properly, no relation to the use of force, and has no etymological connection with 'press' and its compounds, 'compress,' 'depress,' 'express,' 'oppress,' &c. 'Prest money is so-called from the French word _prest_--that is, readie money, for that it bindeth all those that have received it to be ready at all times appointed.' Professor Laughton tells us that 'A prest or imprest was an earnest or advance paid on account. A prest man was really a man who received the prest of 12d., as a soldier when enlisted.' Writers, and some in an age when precision in spelling is thought important, have frequently spelled _prest_ pressed, and _imprest_ impressed. The natural result has been that the thousands who had received 'prest money' were classed as 'pressed' into the service by force. The foregoing may be summed up as follows:-- For 170 years at least there never has been a time when the British merchant service did not contain an appreciable percentage of foreigners. During the last three (and greatest) maritime wars in which this country has been involved only a small proportion of the immense number of men required by the navy came, or could have come, from the merchant service. The number of men raised for the navy by forcible impressment in war time has been enormously exaggerated owing to a confusion of terms. As a matter of fact the number so raised, for quite two centuries, was only an insignificant fraction of the whole. V FACTS AND FANCIES ABOUT THE PRESS-GANG[60] [Footnote 60: Written in 1900, (_National_Review_.)] Of late years great attention has been paid to our naval history, and many even of its obscure byways have been explored. A general result of the investigation is that we are enabled to form a high estimate of the merits of our naval administration in former centuries. We find that for a long time the navy has possessed an efficient organisation; that its right position as an element of the national defences was understood ages ago; and that English naval officers of a period which is now very remote showed by their actions that they exactly appreciated and--when necessary--were able to apply the true principles of maritime warfare. If anyone still believes that the country has been saved more than once merely by lucky chances of weather, and that the England of Elizabeth has been converted into the great oceanic and colonial British Empire of Victoria in 'a fit of absence of mind,' it will not be for want of materials with which to form a correct judgment on these points. It has been accepted generally that the principal method of manning our fleet in the past--especially when war threatened to arise--was to seize and put men on board the ships by force. This has been taken for granted by many, and it seems to have been assumed that, in any case, there is no way of either proving it or disproving it. The truth, however, is that it is possible and--at least as regards the period of our last great naval war--not difficult to make sure if it is true or not. Records covering a long succession of years still exist, and in these can be found the name of nearly every seaman in the navy and a statement of the conditions on which he joined it. The exceptions would not amount to more than a few hundreds out of many tens of thousands of names, and would be due to the disappearance--in itself very infrequent--of some of the documents and to occasional, but also very rare, inaccuracies in the entries. The historical evidence on which the belief in the prevalence of impressment as a method of recruiting the navy for more than a hundred years is based, is limited to contemporary statements in the English newspapers, and especially in the issues of the periodical called _The_Naval_Chronicle_, published in 1803, the first year of the war following the rupture of the Peace of Amiens. Readers of Captain Mahan's works on Sea-Power will remember the picture he draws of the activity of the press-gang in that year, his authority being _The_Naval_Chronicle_. This evidence will be submitted directly to close examination, and we shall see what importance ought to be attached to it. In the great majority of cases, however, the belief above mentioned has no historical foundation, but is to be traced to the frequency with which the supposed operations of the press-gang were used by the authors of naval stories and dramas, and by artists who took scenes of naval life for their subject. Violent seizure and abduction lend themselves to effective treatment in literature and in art, and writers and painters did not neglect what was so plainly suggested. A fruitful source of the widespread belief that our navy in the old days was chiefly manned by recourse to compulsion, is a confusion between two words of independent origin and different meaning, which, in ages when exact spelling was not thought indispensable, came to be written and pronounced alike. During our later great maritime wars, the official term applied to anyone recruited by impressment was 'prest-man.' In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and part of the eighteenth century, this term meant the exact opposite. It meant a man who had voluntarily engaged to serve, and who had received a sum in advance called 'prest-money.' 'A prest-man,' we are told by that high authority, Professor Sir J. K. Laughton, 'was really a man who received the prest of 12d., as a soldier when enlisted.' In the 'Encyclopædia Metropolitana' (1845), we find:-- 'Impressing, or, more correctly, impresting, i.e. paying earnest-money to seamen by the King's Commission to the Admiralty, is a right of very ancient date, and established by prescription, though not by statute. Many statutes, however, imply its existence--one as far back as 2 Richard II, cap. 4.' An old dictionary of James I's time (1617), called 'The Guide into the Tongues, by the Industrie, Studie, Labour, and at the Charges of John Minshew,' gives the following definition:--'Imprest-money. G. [Gallic or French], Imprest-ànce; _Imprestanza_, from _in_ and _prestare_, to lend or give beforehand.... Presse-money. T. [Teutonic or German], Soldt, from salz, _salt_. For anciently agreement or compact between the General and the soldier was signified by salt.' Minshew also defines the expression 'to presse souldiers' by the German _soldatenwerben_, and explains that here the word _werben_ means prepare (_parare_). 'Prest-money,' he says, 'is so-called of the French word _prest_, i.e. readie, for that it bindeth those that have received it to be ready at all times appointed.' In the posthumous work of Stephen Skinner, 'Etymologia Linguæ Anglicanæ' (1671), the author joins together 'press or imprest' as though they were the same, and gives two definitions, viz.: (1) recruiting by force (_milites_cogere_); (2) paying soldiers a sum of money and keeping them ready to serve. Dr. Murray's 'New English Dictionary,' now in course of publication, gives instances of the confusion between imprest and impress. A consequence of this confusion has been that many thousands of seamen who had received an advance of money have been regarded as carried off to the navy by force. If to this misunderstanding we add the effect on the popular mind of cleverly written stories in which the press-gang figured prominently, we can easily see how the belief in an almost universal adoption of compulsory recruiting for the navy became general. It should, therefore, be no matter of surprise when we find that the sensational reports published in the English newspapers in 1803 were accepted without question. Impressment of seamen for the navy has been called 'lawless,' and sometimes it has been asserted that it was directly contrary to law. There is, however, no doubt that it was perfectly legal, though its legality was not based upon any direct statutory authority. Indirect confirmations of it by statute are numerous. These appear in the form of exemptions. The law of the land relating to this subject was that all 'sea-faring' men were liable to impressment unless specially protected by custom or statute. A consideration of the long list of exemptions tends to make one believe that in reality very few people were liable to be impressed. Some were 'protected' by local custom, some by statute, and some by administrative order. The number of the last must have been very great. The 'Protection Books' preserved in the Public Record Office form no inconsiderable section of the Admiralty records. For the period specially under notice, viz. that beginning with the year 1803, there are no less than five volumes of 'protections.' Exemptions by custom probably originated at a very remote date: ferrymen, for example, being everywhere privileged from impressment. The crews of colliers seem to have enjoyed the privilege by custom before it was confirmed by Act of Parliament. The naval historian, Burchett, writing of 1691, cites a 'Proclamation forbidding pressing men from colliers.' Every ship in the coal trade had the following persons protected, viz. two A.B.'s for every ship of 100 tons, and one for every 50 tons in larger ships. When we come to consider the sensational statements in _The_Naval_Chronicle_ of 1803, it will be well to remember what the penalty for infringing the colliers' privilege was. By the Act 6 & 7 William III, c. 18, sect. 19, 'Any officer who presumes to impress any of the above shall forfeit to the master or owner of such vessel £10 for every man so impressed; and such officer shall be incapable of holding any place, office, or employment in any of His Majesty's ships of war.' It is not likely that the least scrupulous naval officer would make himself liable to professional ruin as well as to a heavy fine. No parish apprentice could be impressed for the sea service of the Crown until he arrived at the age of eighteen (2 & 3 Anne, c. 6, sect. 4). Persons voluntarily binding themselves apprentices to sea service could not be impressed for three years from the date of their indentures. Besides sect. 15 of the Act of Anne just quoted, exemptions were granted, before 1803, by 4 Anne, c. 19; and 13 George II, c. 17. By the Act last mentioned all persons fifty-five years of age and under eighteen were exempted, and every foreigner serving in a ship belonging to a British subject, and also all persons 'of what age soever who shall use the sea' for two years, to be computed from the time of their first using it. A customary exemption was extended to the proportion of the crew of any ship necessary for her safe navigation. In practice this must have reduced the numbers liable to impressment to small dimensions. Even when the Admiralty decided to suspend all administrative exemptions--or, as the phrase was, 'to press from all protections'--many persons were still exempted. The customary and statutory exemptions, of course, were unaffected. On the 5th November 1803 their Lordships informed officers in charge of rendezvous that it was 'necessary for the speedy manning of H.M. ships to impress all persons of the denominations exprest in the press-warrant which you have received from us, without regard to any protections, excepting, however, all such persons as are protected pursuant to Acts of Parliament, and all others who by the printed instructions which accompanied the said warrant are forbidden to be imprest.' In addition to these a long list of further exemptions was sent. The last in the list included the crews of 'ships and vessels bound to foreign parts which are laden and cleared outwards by the proper officers of H.M. Customs.' It would seem that there was next to no one left liable to impressment; and it is not astonishing that the Admiralty, as shown by its action very shortly afterwards, felt that pressing seamen was a poor way of manning the fleet. Though the war which broke out in 1803 was not formally declared until May, active preparations were begun earlier. The navy had been greatly reduced since the Peace of Amiens, and as late as the 2nd December 1802 the House of Commons had voted that '50,000 seamen be employed for the service of the year 1803, including 12,000 marines.' On the 14th March an additional number was voted. It amounted to 10,000 men, of whom 2400 were to be marines. Much larger additions were voted a few weeks later. The total increase was 50,000 men; viz. 39,600 seamen and 10,400 marines. It never occurred to anyone that forcible recruiting would be necessary in the case of the marines, though the establishment of the corps was to be nearly doubled, as it had to be brought up to 22,400 from 12,000. Attention may be specially directed to this point. The marine formed an integral part of a man-of-war's crew just as the seamen did. He received no better treatment than the latter; and as regards pecuniary remuneration, prospects of advancement, and hope of attaining to the position of warrant officer, was, on the whole, in a less favourable position. It seems to have been universally accepted that voluntary enlistment would prove--as, in fact, it did prove--sufficient in the case of the marines. What we have got to see is how far it failed in the case of the seamen, and how far its deficiencies were made up by compulsion. On the 12th March the Admiralty notified the Board of Ordnance that twenty-two ships of the line--the names of which were stated--were 'coming forward' for sea. Many of these ships are mentioned in _The_Naval_Chronicle_ as requiring men, and that journal gives the names of several others of various classes in the same state. The number altogether is thirty-one. The aggregate complements, including marines and boys, of these ships amounted to 17,234. The number of 'seamen' was 11,861, though this included some of the officers who were borne on the same muster-list. The total number of seamen actually required exceeded 11,500. The _Naval_ _Chronicle_ contains a vivid, not to say sensational, account of the steps taken to raise them. The report from Plymouth, dated 10th March, is as follows: 'Several bodies of Royal Marines in parties of twelve and fourteen each, with their officers and naval officers armed, proceeded towards the quays. So secret were the orders kept that they did not know the nature of the business on which they were going until they boarded the tier of colliers at the New Quay, and other gangs the ships in the Catwater and the Pool, and the gin-shops. A great number of prime seamen were taken out and sent on board the Admiral's ship. They also pressed landsmen of all descriptions; and the town looked as if in a state of siege. At Stonehouse, Mutton Cove, Morris Town, and in all the receiving and gin-shops at Dock [the present Devonport] several hundreds of seamen and landsmen were picked up and sent directly aboard the flag-ship. By the returns last night it appears that upwards of 400 useful hands were pressed last night in the Three Towns.... One press-gang entered the Dock [Devonport] Theatre and cleared the whole gallery except the women.' The reporter remarks: 'It is said that near 600 men have been impressed in this neighbourhood.' The number--if obtained--would not have been sufficient to complete the seamen in the complements of a couple of line-of-battle ships. Naval officers who remember the methods of manning ships which lasted well into the middle of the nineteenth century, and of course long after recourse to impressment had been given up, will probably notice the remarkable fact that the reporter makes no mention of any of the parties whose proceedings he described being engaged in picking up men who had voluntarily joined ships fitting out, but had not returned on board on the expiration of the leave granted them. The description in _The_Naval_Chronicle_ might be applied to events which--when impressment had ceased for half a century--occurred over and over again at Portsmouth, Devonport, and other ports when two or three ships happened to be put in commission about the same time. We shall find that the 600 reported as impressed had to be considerably reduced before long. The reporter afterwards wisely kept himself from giving figures, except in a single instance when he states that 'about forty' were taken out of the flotilla of Plymouth trawlers. Reporting on 11th March he says that 'Last Thursday and yesterday'--the day of the sensational report above given--'several useful hands were picked up, mostly seamen, who were concealed in the different lodgings and were discovered by their girls.' He adds, 'Several prime seamen were yesterday taken disguised as labourers in the different marble quarries round the town.' On 14th October the report is that 'the different press-gangs, with their officers, literally scoured the country on the eastern roads and picked up several fine young fellows.' Here, again, no distinction is drawn between men really impressed and men who were arrested for being absent beyond the duration of their leave. We are told next that 'upon a survey of all impressed men before three captains and three surgeons of the Royal Navy, such as were deemed unfit for His Majesty's service, as well as all apprentices, were immediately discharged,' which, no doubt, greatly diminished the above-mentioned 600. The reporter at Portsmouth begins his account of the 'press' at that place by saying, 'They indiscriminately took every man on board the colliers.' In view of what we know of the heavy penalties to which officers who pressed more than a certain proportion of a collier's crew were liable, we may take it that this statement was made in error. On 14th March it was reported that 'the constables and gangs from the ships continue very alert in obtaining seamen, many of whom have been sent on board different ships in the harbour this day.' We do not hear again from Portsmouth till May, on the 7th of which month it was reported that 'about 700 men were obtained.' On the 8th the report was that 'on Saturday afternoon the gates of the town were shut and soldiers placed at every avenue. Tradesmen were taken from their shops and sent on board the ships in the harbour or placed in the guard-house for the night, till they could be examined. If fit for His Majesty's service they were kept, if in trade set at liberty.' The 'tradesmen,' then, if really taken, were taken simply to be set free again. As far as the reports first quoted convey any trustworthy information, it appears that at Portsmouth and Plymouth during March, April, and the first week of May, 1340 men were 'picked up,' and that of these many were immediately discharged. How many of the 1340 were not really impressed, but were what in the navy are called 'stragglers,' i.e. men over-staying their leave of absence, is not indicated. _The_Times_ of the 11th March 1803, and 9th May 1803, also contained reports of the impressment operations. It says: 'The returns to the Admiralty of the seamen impressed (apparently at the Thames ports) on Tuesday night amounted to 1080, of whom no less than two-thirds are considered prime hands. At Portsmouth, Portsea, Gosport, and Cowes a general press took place the same night.... Upwards of 600 seamen were collected in consequence of the promptitude of the measures adopted.' It was added that the Government 'relied upon increasing our naval forces with 10,000 seamen, either volunteers or impressed men, in less than a fortnight.' The figures show us how small a proportion of the 10,000 was even alleged to be made up of impressed men. A later _Times_ report is that: 'The impress on Saturday, both above and below the bridge, was the hottest that has been for some time. The boats belonging to the ships at Deptford were particularly active, and it is supposed they obtained upwards of 200 men.' _The_ _Times_ reports thus account for 1280 men over and above the 1340 stated to have been impressed at Plymouth and Portsmouth, thus making a grand total of 2620. It will be proved by official figures directly that the last number was an over-estimate. Before going farther, attention may be called to one or two points in connection with the above reports. The increase in the number of seamen voted by Parliament in March was 7600. The reports of the impressment operations only came down to May. It was not till the 11th June that Parliament voted a further addition to the navy of 32,000 seamen. Yet whilst the latter great increase was being obtained--for obtained it was--the reporters are virtually silent as to the action of the press-gang. We must ask ourselves, if we could get 32,000 additional seamen with so little recourse to impressment that the operations called for no special notice, how was it that compulsion was necessary when only 7600 men were wanted? The question is all the more pertinent when we recall the state of affairs in the early part of 1803. The navy had been greatly reduced in the year before, the men voted having diminished from 100,000 to 56,000. What became of the 44,000 men not required, of whom about 35,000 must have been of the seaman class and have been discharged from the service? There was a further reduction of 6000, to take effect in the beginning of 1803. Sir Sydney Smith, at that time a Member of Parliament, in the debate of the 2nd December 1802, 'expressed considerable regret at the great reductions which were suddenly made, both in the King's dockyards and in the navy in general. A prodigious number of men,' he said, 'had been thus reduced to the utmost poverty and distress.' He stated that he 'knew, from his own experience, that what was called an ordinary seaman could hardly find employment at present, either in the King's or in the merchants' service.' The increase of the fleet in March must have seemed a godsend to thousands of men-of-war's men. If there was any holding back on their part, it was due, no doubt, to an expectation--which the sequel showed to be well founded--that a bounty would be given to men joining the navy. The muster-book of a man-of-war is the official list of her crew. It contains the name of every officer and man in the complement. Primarily it was an account-book, as it contains entries of the payments made to each person whose name appears in it. At the beginning of the nineteenth century it was usual to make out a fresh muster-book every two months, though that period was not always exactly adhered to. Each new book was a copy of the preceding one, with the addition of the names of persons who had joined the ship since the closing of the latter. Until the ship was paid off and thus put out of commission--or, in the case of a very long commission, until 'new books' were ordered to be opened so as to escape the inconveniences due to the repetition of large numbers of entries--the name of every man that had belonged to her remained on the list, his disposal--if no longer in the ship--being noted in the proper column. One column was headed 'Whence, and whether prest or not?' In this was noted his former ship, or the fact of his being entered direct from the shore, which answered to the question 'Whence?' There is reason to believe that the muster-book being, as above said, primarily an account-book, the words 'whether prest or not' were originally placed at the head of the column so that it might be noted against each man entered whether he had been paid 'prest-money' or not. However this may be, the column at the beginning of the nineteenth century was used for a record of the circumstances of the man's entering the ship, whether he had been transferred from another, had joined as a volunteer from the shore, or had been impressed. I have examined the muster-book of every ship mentioned in the Admiralty letter to the Board of Ordnance above referred to, and also of the ships mentioned in _The_Naval_Chronicle_ as fitting out in the early part of 1803. There are altogether thirty-three ships; but two of them, the _Utrecht_ and the _Gelykheid_, were used as temporary receiving ships for newly raised men.[61] The names on their lists are, therefore, merely those of men who were passed on to other ships, in whose muster-books they appeared again. There remained thirty-one ships which, as far as could be ascertained, account for the additional force which the Government had decided to put in commission, more than two-thirds of them being ships of the line. As already stated, their total complements amounted to 17,234, and the number of the 'blue-jackets' of full age to at least 11,500. The muster-books appear to have been kept with great care. The only exception seems to be that of the _Victory_, in which there is some reason to think the number of men noted as 'prest' has been over-stated owing to an error in copying the earlier book. Ships in 1803 did not get their full crews at once, any more than they did half a century later. I have, therefore, thought it necessary to take the muster-books for the months in which the crews had been brought up to completion. [Footnote 61: The words 'recruit' and 'enlist,' except as regards marines, are unknown in the navy, in which they are replaced by 'raise' and 'enter.'] An examination of the books would be likely to dispel many misconceptions about the old navy. Not only is it noted against each man's name whether he was 'pressed' or a volunteer, it is also noted if he was put on board ship as an alternative to imprisonment on shore, this being indicated by the words 'civil power,' an expression still used in the navy, but with a different meaning. The percentage of men thus 'raised' was small. Sometimes there is a note stating that the man had been allowed to enter from the '----shire Militia.' A rare note is 'Brought on board by soldiers,' which most likely indicated that the man had been recaptured when attempting to desert. It is sometimes asserted that many men who volunteered did so only to escape impressment. This may be so; but it should be said that there are frequent notations against the names of 'prest' men that they afterwards volunteered. This shows the care that was taken to ascertain the real conditions on which a man entered the service. For the purposes of this inquiry all these men have been considered as impressed, and they have not been counted amongst the volunteers. It is, perhaps, permissible to set off against such men the number of those who allowed themselves to be impressed to escape inconveniences likely to be encountered if they remained at home. Of two John Westlakes, ordinary seamen of the _Boadicea_, one--John (I.)--was 'prest,' but was afterwards 'taken out of the ship for a debt of twenty pounds'; which shows that he had preferred to trust himself to the press-gang rather than to his creditors. Without being unduly imaginative, we may suppose that in 1803 there were heroes who preferred being 'carried off' to defend their country afloat to meeting the liabilities of putative paternity in their native villages. The muster-books examined cover several months, during which many 'prest' men were discharged and some managed to desert, so that the total was never present at anyone time. That total amounts to 1782. It is certain that even this is larger than the reality, because it has been found impossible--without an excessive expenditure of time and labour--to trace the cases of men being sent from one ship to another, and thus appearing twice over, or oftener, as 'prest' men. As an example of this the _Minotaur_ may be cited. Out of twenty names on one page of her muster-book thirteen are those of 'prest' men discharged to other ships. The discharges from the _Victory_ were numerous; and the _Ardent_, which was employed in keeping up communication with the ships off Brest, passed men on to the latter when required. I have, however, made no deductions from the 'prest' total to meet these cases. We can see that not more than 1782 men, and probably considerably fewer, were impressed to meet the increase of the navy during the greater part of 1803. Admitting that there were cases of impressment from merchant vessels abroad to complete the crews of our men-of-war in distant waters, the total number impressed--including these latter--could not have exceeded greatly the figures first given. We know that owing to the reduction of 1802, as stated by Sir Sydney Smith, the seamen were looking for ships rather than the ships for seamen. It seems justifiable to infer that the whole number of impressed men on any particular day did not exceed, almost certainly did not amount to, 2000. If they had been spread over the whole navy they would not have made 2 per cent. of the united complements of the ships; and, as it was, did not equal one-nineteenth of the 39,600 seamen ('blue-jackets') raised to complete the navy to the establishment sanctioned by Parliament. A system under which more than 37,000 volunteers come forward to serve and less than 2000 men are obtained by compulsion cannot be properly called compulsory. The Plymouth reporter of _The_Naval_Chronicle_ does not give many details of the volunteering for the navy in 1803, though he alludes to it in fluent terms more than once. On the 11th October, however, he reports that, 'So many volunteer seamen have arrived here this last week that upwards of £4000 bounty is to be paid them afloat by the Paying Commissioner, Rear-Admiral Dacres.' At the time the bounty was £2 10s. for an A.B., £1 10s. for an ordinary seaman, and £1 for a landsman. Taking only £4000 as the full amount paid, and assuming that the three classes were equally represented, three men were obtained for every £5, or 2400 in all, a number raised in about a week, that may be compared with that given as resulting from impressment. In reality, the number of volunteers must have been larger, because the A.B.'s were fewer than the other classes. Some people may be astonished because the practice of impressment, which had proved to be so utterly inefficient, was not at once and formally given up. No astonishment will be felt by those who are conversant with the habits of Government Departments. In every country public officials evince great and, indeed, almost invincible reluctance to give up anything, whether it be a material object or an administrative process, which they have once possessed or conducted. One has only to stroll through the arsenals of the world, or glance at the mooring-grounds of the maritime states, to see to what an extent the passion for retaining the obsolete and useless holds dominion over the official mind. A thing may be known to be valueless--its retention may be proved to be mischievous--yet proposals to abandon it will be opposed and defeated. It is doubtful if any male human being over forty was ever converted to a new faith of any kind. The public has to wait until the generation of administrative Conservatives has either passed away or been outnumbered by those acquainted only with newer methods. Then the change is made; the certainty, nevertheless, being that the new men in their turn will resist improvements as obstinately and in exactly the same way as their predecessors. To be just to the Board of Admiralty of 1803, it must be admitted that some of its members seem to have lost faith in the efficacy of impressment as a system of manning the navy. The Lords Commissioners of that date could hardly--all of them, at any rate--have been so thoroughly destitute of humour as not to suspect that seizing a few score of men here and a few there when tens of thousands were needed, was a very insufficient compensation for the large correspondence necessitated by adherence to the system (and still in existence). Their Lordships actively bombarded the Home Office with letters pointing out, for example, that a number of British seamen at Guernsey 'appeared to have repaired to that island with a view to avoid being pressed'; that they were 'of opinion that it would be highly proper that the sea-faring men (in Jersey as well as Guernsey), not natives nor settled inhabitants, should be impressed'; that when the captain of H.M.S. _Aigle_ had landed at Portland 'for the purpose of raising men' some resistance had 'been made by the sailors'; and dealing with other subjects connected with the system. A complaint sent to the War Department was that 'amongst a number of men lately impressed (at Leith) there were eight or ten shipwrights who were sea-faring men, and had been claimed as belonging to a Volunteer Artillery Corps.' We may suspect that there was some discussion at Whitehall as to the wisdom of retaining a plan which caused so much inconvenience and had such poor results. The conclusion seems to have been to submit it to a searching test. The coasts of the United Kingdom were studded with stations--thirty-seven generally, but the number varied--for the entry of seamen. The ordinary official description of these--as shown by entries in the muster-books--was 'rendezvous'; but other terms were used. It has often been thought that they were simply impressment offices. The fact is that many more men were raised at these places by volunteering than by impressment. The rendezvous, as a rule, were in charge of captains or commanders, some few being entrusted to lieutenants. The men attached to each were styled its 'gang,' a word which conveys no discredit in nautical language. On 5th November 1803 the Admiralty sent to the officers in charge of rendezvous the communication already mentioned--to press men 'without regard to any protections,'--the exceptions, indeed, being so many that the officers must have wondered who could legitimately be taken. The order at first sight appeared sweeping enough. It contained the following words: 'Whereas we think fit that a general press from all protections as above mentioned shall commence at London and in the neighbourhood thereof on the night of Monday next, the 7th instant, you are therefore (after taking the proper preparatory measures with all possible secrecy) hereby required to impress and to give orders to the lieutenants under your command to impress all persons of the above-mentioned denominations (except as before excepted) and continue to do so until you receive orders from us to the contrary.' As it was addressed to officers in all parts of the United Kingdom, the 'general press' was not confined to London and its neighbourhood, though it was to begin in the capital. Though returns of the numbers impressed have not been discovered, we have strong evidence that this 'general press,' notwithstanding the secrecy with which it had been arranged, was a failure. On the 6th December 1803, just a month after it had been tried, the Admiralty formulated the following conclusion: 'On a consideration of the expense attending the service of raising men on shore for His Majesty's Fleet comparatively with the number procured, as well as from other circumstances, there is reason to believe that either proper exertions have not been made by some of the officers employed on that service, or that there have been great abuses and mismanagement in the expenditure of the public money.' This means that it was now seen that impressment, though of little use in obtaining men for the navy, was a very costly arrangement. The Lords of the Admiralty accordingly ordered that 'the several places of rendezvous should be visited and the conduct of the officers employed in carrying out the above-mentioned service should be inquired into on the spot.' Rear-Admiral Arthur Phillip, the celebrated first Governor of New South Wales, was ordered to make the inquiry. This was the last duty in which that distinguished officer was employed, and his having been selected for it appears to have been unknown to all his biographers. It is not surprising that after this the proceedings of the press-gang occupy scarcely any space in our naval history. Such references to them as there are will be found in the writings of the novelist and the dramatist. Probably individual cases of impressment occurred till nearly the end of the Great War; but they could not have been many. Compulsory service most unnecessarily caused--not much, but still some--unjustifiable personal hardship. It tended to stir up a feeling hostile to the navy. It required to work it machinery costly out of all proportion to the results obtained. Indeed, it failed completely to effect what had been expected of it. In the great days of old our fleet, after all, was manned, not by impressed men, but by volunteers. It was largely due to that that we became masters of the sea. VI PROJECTED INVASIONS OF THE BRITISH ISLES[62] [Footnote 62: Written in 1900. (_The_Times_.)] The practice to which we have become accustomed of late, of publishing original documents relating to naval and military history, has been amply justified by the results. These meet the requirements of two classes of readers. The publications satisfy, or at any rate go far towards satisfying, the wishes of those who want to be entertained, and also of those whose higher motive is a desire to discover the truth about notable historical occurrences. Putting the public in possession of the materials, previously hidden in more or less inaccessible muniment-rooms and record offices, with which the narratives of professed historians have been constructed, has had advantages likely to become more and more apparent as time goes on. It acts as a check upon the imaginative tendencies which even eminent writers have not always been able, by themselves, to keep under proper control. The certainty, nay the mere probability, that you will be confronted with the witnesses on whose evidence you profess to have relied--the 'sources' from which your story is derived--will suggest the necessity of sobriety of statement and the advisability of subordinating rhetoric to veracity. Had the contemporary documents been available for an immediate appeal to them by the reading public, we should long ago have rid ourselves of some dangerous superstitions. We should have abandoned our belief in the fictions that the Armada of 1588 was defeated by the weather, and that the great Herbert of Torrington was a lubber, a traitor, and a coward. It is not easy to calculate the benefit that we should have secured, had the presentation of some important events in the history of our national defence been as accurate as it was effective. Enormous sums of money have been wasted in trying to make our defensive arrangements square with a conception of history based upon misunderstanding or misinterpretation of facts. Pecuniary extravagance is bad enough; but there is a greater evil still. We have been taught to cherish, and we have been reluctant to abandon, a false standard of defence, though adherence to such a standard can be shown to have brought the country within measurable distance of grievous peril. Captain Duro, of the Spanish Navy, in his 'Armada Invencible,' placed within our reach contemporary evidence from the side of the assailants, thereby assisting us to form a judgment on a momentous episode in naval history. The evidence was completed; some being adduced from the other side, by our fellow-countryman Sir J. K. Laughton, in his 'Defeat of the Spanish Armada,' published by the Navy Records Society. Others have worked on similar lines; and a healthier view of our strategic conditions and needs is more widely held than it was; though it cannot be said to be, even yet, universally prevalent. Superstition, even the grossest, dies hard. Something deeper than mere literary interest, therefore, is to be attributed to a work which has recently appeared in Paris.[63] To speak strictly, it should be said that only the first volume of three which will complete it has been published. It is, however, in the nature of a work of the kind that its separate parts should be virtually independent of each other. Consequently the volume which we now have may be treated properly as a book by itself. When completed the work is to contain all the documents relating to the French preparations during the period 1793-1805, for taking the offensive against England (_tous_les_documents_se_rapportant_ _à_la_préparation_de_l'offensive_contre_l'Angleterre_). The search for, the critical examination and the methodical classification of, the papers were begun in October 1898. The book is compiled by Captain Desbrière, of the French Cuirassiers, who was specially authorised to continue his editorial labours even after he had resumed his ordinary military duties. It bears the _imprimatur_ of the staff of the army; and its preface is written by an officer who was--and so signs himself--chief of the historical section of that department. There is no necessity to criticise the literary execution of the work. What is wanted is to explain the nature of its contents and to indicate the lessons which may be drawn from them. Nevertheless, attention may be called to a curious misreading of history contained in the preface. In stating the periods which the different volumes of the book are to cover, the writer alludes to the Peace of Amiens, which, he affirms, England was compelled to accept by exhaustion, want of means of defence, and fear of the menaces of the great First Consul then disposing of the resources of France, aggrandised, pacified, and reinforced by alliances. The book being what it is and coming whence it does, such a statement ought not to be passed over. 'The desire for peace,' says an author so easily accessible as J. R. Green, 'sprang from no sense of national exhaustion. On the contrary, wealth had never increased so fast.... Nor was there any ground for despondency in the aspect of the war itself.' This was written in 1875 by an author so singularly free from all taint of Chauvinism that he expressly resolved that his work 'should never sink into a drum and trumpet history.' A few figures will be interesting and, it may be added, conclusive. Between 1793 when the war began and 1802 when the Peace of Amiens interrupted it, the public income of Great Britain increased from £16,382,000 to £28,000,000, the war taxes not being included in the latter sum. The revenue of France, notwithstanding her territorial acquisitions, sank from £18,800,000 to £18,000,000. The French exports and imports by sea were annihilated; whilst the British exports were doubled and the imports increased more than 50 per cent. The French Navy had at the beginning 73, at the end of the war 39, ships of the line; the British began the contest with 135 and ended it with 202. Even as regards the army, the British force at the end of the war was not greatly inferior numerically to the French. It was, however, much scattered, being distributed over the whole British Empire. In view of the question under discussion, no excuse need be given for adducing these facts. [Footnote 63: 1793-1805. _Projets_et_Tentatives_de_Débarquement_ _aux_Iles_Britanniques_, par Édouard Desbrière, Capitaine breveté aux 1er Cuirassiers. Paris, Chapelot et Cie. 1900. (Publié sous la direction de la section historique de l'État-Major de l'Armée.)] Captain Desbrière in the present volume carries his collection of documents down to the date at which the then General Bonaparte gave up his connection with the flotilla that was being equipped in the French Channel ports, and prepared to take command of the expedition to Egypt. The volume therefore, in addition to accounts of many projected, but never really attempted, descents on the British Isles, gives a very complete history of Hoche's expedition to Ireland; of the less important, but curious, descent in Cardigan Bay known as the Fishguard, or Fishgard, expedition; and of the formation of the first 'Army of England,' a designation destined to attain greater celebrity in the subsequent war, when France was ruled by the great soldier whom we know as the Emperor Napoleon. The various documents are connected by Captain Desbrière with an explanatory commentary, and here and there are illustrated with notes. He has not rested content with the publication of MSS. selected from the French archives. In preparing his book he visited England and examined our records; and, besides, he has inserted in their proper place passages from Captain Mahan's works and also from those of English authors. The reader's interest in the book is likely to be almost exclusively concentrated on the detailed, and, where Captain Desbrière's commentary appears, lucid, account of Hoche's expedition. Of course, the part devoted to the creation of the 'Army of England' is not uninteresting; but it is distinctly less so than the part relating to the proceedings of Hoche. Several of the many plans submitted by private persons, who here describe them in their own words, are worth examination; and some, it may be mentioned, are amusing in the _naïveté_ of their Anglophobia and in their obvious indifference to the elementary principles of naval strategy. In this indifference they have some distinguished companions. We are informed by Captain Desbrière that the idea of a hostile descent on England was during a long time much favoured in France. The national archives and those of the Ministries of War and of Marine are filled with proposals for carrying it out, some dating back to 1710. Whether emanating from private persons or formulated in obedience to official direction, there are certain features in all the proposals so marked that we are able to classify the various schemes by grouping together those of a similar character. In one class may be placed all those which aimed at mere annoyance, to be effected by landing small bodies of men, not always soldiers, to do as much damage as possible. The appearance of these at many different points, it was believed, would so harass the English that they would end the war, or at least so divide their forces that their subjection might be looked for with confidence. In another class might be placed proposals to seize outlying, out not distant, British territory--the Channel Islands or the Isle of Wight, for example. A third class might comprise attempts on a greater scale, necessitating the employment of a considerable body of troops and meriting the designation 'Invasion.' Some of these attempts were to be made in Great Britain, some in Ireland. In every proposal for an attempt of this class, whether it was to be made in Great Britain or in Ireland, it was assumed that the invaders would receive assistance from the people of the country invaded. Indeed, generally the bulk of the force to be employed was ultimately to be composed of native sympathisers, who were also to provide--at least at the beginning--all the supplies and transport, both vehicles and animals, required. Every plan, no matter to which class it might belong, was based upon the assumption that the British naval force could be avoided. Until we come to the time when General Bonaparte, as he then was, dissociated himself from the first 'Army of England,' there is no trace, in any of the documents now printed, of a belief in the necessity of obtaining command of the sea before sending across it a considerable military expedition. That there was such a thing as the command of the sea is rarely alluded to; and when it is, it is merely to accentuate the possibility of neutralising it by evading the force holding it. There is something which almost deserves to be styled comical in the absolutely unvarying confidence, alike of amateurs and highly placed military officers, with which it was held that a superior naval force was a thing that might be disregarded. Generals who would have laughed to scorn anyone maintaining that, though there was a powerful Prussian army on the road to one city and an Austrian army on the road to the other, a French army might force its way to either Berlin or Vienna without either fighting or even being prepared to fight, such generals never hesitated to approve expeditions obliged to traverse a region in the occupation of a greatly superior force, the region being pelagic and the force naval. We had seized the little islands of St. Marcoff, a short distance from the coast of Normandy, and held them for years. It was expressly admitted that their recapture was impossible, 'à raison de la supériorité des forces navales Anglaises'; but it was not even suspected that a much more difficult operation, requiring longer time and a longer voyage, was likely to be impracticable. We shall see by and by how far this remarkable attitude of mind was supported by the experience of Hoche's expedition to Ireland. Hoche himself was the inventor of a plan of harassing the English enemy which long remained in favour. He proposed to organise what was called a _Chouannerie_ in England. As that country had no _Chouans_ of her own, the want was to be supplied by sending over an expedition composed of convicts. Hoche's ideas were approved and adopted by the eminent Carnot. The plan, to which the former devoted great attention, was to land on the coast of Wales from 1000 to 1200 _forçats_, to be commanded by a certain Mascheret, of whom Hoche wrote that he was 'le plus mauvais sujet dont on puisse purger la France.' In a plan accepted and forwarded by Hoche, it was laid down that the band, on reaching the enemy's country, was, if possible, not to fight, but to pillage; each man was to understand that he was sent to England to steal 100,000f., 'pour ensuite finir sa carrière tranquillement dans l'aisance,' and was to be informed that he would receive a formal pardon from the French Government. The plan, extraordinary as it was, was one of the few put into execution. The famous Fishguard Invasion was carried out by some fourteen hundred convicts commanded by an American adventurer named Tate. The direction to avoid fighting was exactly obeyed by Colonel Tate and the armed criminals under his orders. He landed in Cardigan Bay from a small squadron of French men-of-war at sunset on the 22nd February 1797; and, on the appearance of Lord Cawdor with the local Yeomanry and Militia, asked to be allowed to surrender on the 24th. At a subsequent exchange of prisoners the French authorities refused to receive any of the worthies who had accompanied Tate. At length 512 were allowed to land; but were imprisoned in the forts of Cherbourg. The French records contain many expressions of the dread experienced by the inhabitants of the coast lest the English should put on shore in France the malefactors whom they had captured at Fishguard. A more promising enterprise was that in which it was decided to obtain the assistance of the Dutch, at the time in possession of a considerable fleet. The Dutch fleet was to put to sea with the object of engaging the English. An army of 15,000 was then to be embarked in the ports of Holland, and was to effect a diversion in favour of another and larger body, which, starting from France, was to land in Ireland, repeating the attempt of Hoche in December 1796, which will be dealt with later on. The enterprise was frustrated by the action of Admiral Duncan, who decisively defeated the Dutch fleet off Camperdown in October. It might have been supposed that this would have driven home the lesson that no considerable military expedition across the water has any chance of success till the country sending it has obtained command of the sea; but it did not. To Bonaparte the event was full of meaning; but no other French soldier seems to have learned it--if we may take Captain Desbrière's views as representative--even down to the present day. On the 23rd February 1798 Bonaparte wrote: 'Opérer une descente en Angleterre sans être maître de la mer est l'opération la plus hardie et la plus difficile qui ait été faite.' There has been much speculation as to the reasons which induced Bonaparte to quit the command of the 'Army of England' after holding it but a short time, and after having devoted great attention to its organisation and proposed methods of transport across the Channel. The question is less difficult than it has appeared to be to many. One of the foremost men in France, Bonaparte was ready to take the lead in any undertaking which seemed likely to have a satisfactory ending--an ending which would redound to the glory of the chief who conducted it. The most important operation contemplated was the invasion of England; and--now that Hoche was no more--Bonaparte might well claim to lead it. His penetrating insight soon enabled him to see its impracticability until the French had won the command of the Channel. Of that there was not much likelihood; and at the first favourable moment he dissociated himself from all connection with an enterprise which offered so little promise of a successful termination that it was all but certain not to be begun. An essential condition, as already pointed out, of all the projected invasions was the receipt of assistance from sympathisers in the enemy's country. Hoche himself expected this even in Tate's case; but experience proved the expectation to be baseless. When the prisoners taken with Tate were being conducted to their place of confinement, the difficulty was to protect them, 'car la population furieuse contre les Français voulait les lyncher.' Captain Desbrière dwells at some length on the mutinies in the British fleet in 1797, and asks regretfully, 'Qu'avait-on fait pour profiter de cette chance unique?' He remarks on the undoubted and really lamentable fact that English historians have usually paid insufficient attention to these occurrences. One, and perhaps the principal reason of their silence, was the difficulty, at all events till quite lately, of getting materials with which to compose a narrative. The result is that the real character of the great mutinies has been altogether misunderstood. Lord Camperdown's recently published life of his great ancestor, Lord Duncan, has done something to put them in their right light. As regards defence against the enemy, the mutinies affected the security of the country very little. The seamen always expressed their determination to do their duty if the enemy put to sea. Even at the Nore they conspicuously displayed their general loyalty; and, as a matter of fact, discipline had regained its sway some time before the expedition preparing in Holland was ready. How effectively the crews of the ships not long before involved in the mutiny could fight, was proved at Camperdown. Though earlier in date than the events just discussed, the celebrated first expedition to Ireland has been intentionally left out of consideration till now. As to the general features of the undertaking, and even some of its more important details, the documents now published add little to our knowledge. The literature of the expedition is large, and Captain Chevalier had given us an admirable account of it in his 'Histoire de la Marine Française sous la première République.' The late Vice-Admiral Colomb submitted it to a most instructive examination in the _Journal_of_the_ _Royal_United_Service_Institution_ for January 1892. We can, however, learn something from Captain Desbrière's collection. The perusal suggests, or indeed compels, the conclusion that the expedition was doomed to failure from the start. It had no money, stores, or means of transport. There was no hope of finding these in a country like the south-western corner of Ireland. Grouchy's decision not to land the troops who had reached Bantry Bay was no doubt dictated in reality by a perception of this; and by the discovery that, even if he got on shore, sympathisers with him would be practically non-existent. On reading the letters now made public, one is convinced of Hoche's unfitness for the leadership of such an enterprise. The adoration of mediocrities is confined to no one cult and to no one age. Hoche's canonisation, for he is a prominent saint in the Republican calendar, was due not so much to what he did as to what he did not do. He did not hold the supreme command in La Vendée till the most trying period of the war was past. He did not continue the cruelties of the Jacobin emissaries in the disturbed districts; but then his pacificatory measures were taken when the spirit of ferocity which caused the horrors of the _noyades_ and of the Terror had, even amongst the mob of Paris, burnt itself out. He did not overthrow a constitutional Government and enslave his country as Bonaparte did; and, therefore, he is favourably compared with the latter, whose opportunities he did not have. His letters show him to have been an adept in the art of traducing colleagues behind their backs. In writing he called Admiral Villaret-Joyeuse 'perfide,' and spoke of his 'mauvaise foi.' He had a low opinion of General Humbert, whom he bracketed with Mascheret. Grouchy, he said, was 'un inconséquent paperassier,' and General Vaillant 'un misérable ivrogne.' He was placed in supreme command of the naval as well as of the military forces, and was allowed to select the commander of the former. Yet he and his nominee were amongst the small fraction of the expeditionary body which never reached a place where disembarkation was possible. Notwithstanding all this, the greater part of the fleet, and of the troops conveyed by it, did anchor in Bantry Bay without encountering an English man-of-war; and a large proportion continued in the Bay, unmolested by our navy, for more than a fortnight. Is not this, it may be asked, a sufficient refutation of those who hold that command of the sea gives security against invasion? As a matter of fact, command of the sea--even in the case in question--did prevent invasion from being undertaken, still more from being carried through, on a scale likely to be very formidable. The total number of troops embarked was under 14,000, of whom 633 were lost, owing to steps taken to avoid the hostile navy, before the expedition had got fully under way. It is not necessary to rate Hoche's capacity very highly in order to understand that he, who had seen something of war on a grand scale, would not have committed himself to the command of so small a body, without cavalry, without means of transport on land, without supplies, with but an insignificant artillery and that not furnished with horses, and, as was avowed, without hope of subsequent reinforcement or of open communications with its base--that he would not have staked his reputation on the fate of a body so conditioned, if he had been permitted by the naval conditions of the case to lead a larger, more effectually organised, and better supplied army. The commentary supplied by Captain Desbrière to the volume under notice discloses his opinion that the failure of the expedition to Ireland was due to the inefficiency of the French Navy. He endeavours to be scrupulously fair to his naval fellow-countrymen; but his conviction is apparent. It hardly admits of doubt that this view has generally been, and still is, prevalent in the French Army. Foreign soldiers of talent and experience generalise from this as follows: Let them but have the direction of the naval as well as of the military part of an expedition, and the invasion of England must be successful. The complete direction which they would like is exactly what Hoche did have. He chose the commander of the fleet, and also chose or regulated the choice of the junior flag officers and several of the captains. Admiral Morard de Galles was not, and did not consider himself, equal to the task for which Hoche's favour had selected him. His letter pointing out his own disqualifications has a striking resemblance to the one written by Medina Sidonia in deprecation of his appointment in place of Santa Cruz. Nevertheless, the French naval officers did succeed in conveying the greater part of the expeditionary army to a point at which disembarkation was practicable. Now we have some lessons to learn from this. The advantages conferred by command of the sea must be utilised intelligently; and it was bad management which permitted an important anchorage to remain for more than a fortnight in the hands of an invading force. We need not impute to our neighbours a burning desire to invade us; but it is a becoming exercise of ordinary strategic precaution to contemplate preparations for repelling what, as a mere military problem, they consider still feasible. No amount of naval superiority will ever ensure every part of our coast against incursions like that of Tate and his gaol-birds. Naval superiority, however, will put in our hands the power of preventing the arrival of an army strong enough to carry out a real invasion. The strength of such an army will largely depend upon the amount of mobile land force of which we can dispose. Consequently, defence against invasion, even of an island, is the duty of a land army as well as of a fleet. The more important part may, in our case, be that of the latter; but the services of the former cannot be dispensed with. The best method of utilising those services calls for much thought. In 1798, when the 'First Army of England' menaced us from the southern coast of the Channel, it was reported to our Government that an examination of the plans formerly adopted for frustrating intended invasions showed the advantage of troubling the enemy in his own home and not waiting till he had come to injure us in ours. VII OVER-SEA RAIDS AND RAIDS ON LAND[64] [Footnote 64: Written in 1906. (_The_Morning_Post_.)] It has been contended that raids by 'armaments with 1000, 20,000, and 50,000 men on board respectively' have succeeded in evading 'our watching and chasing fleets,' and that consequently invasion of the British Isles on a great scale is not only possible but fairly practicable, British naval predominance notwithstanding. I dispute the accuracy of the history involved in the allusions to the above-stated figures. The number of men comprised in a raiding or invading expedition is the number that is or can be put on shore. The crews of the transports are not included in it. In the cases alluded to, Humbert's expedition was to have numbered 82 officers and 1017 other ranks, and 984 were put on shore in Killala Bay. Though the round number, 1000, represents this figure fairly enough, there was a 10 per cent. shrinkage from the original embarkation strength. In Hoche's expedition the total number of troops embarked was under 14,000, of whom 633 were lost before the expedition had got clear of its port of starting, and of the remainder only a portion reached Ireland. General Bonaparte landed in Egypt not 50,000 men, but about 36,000. In the expeditions of Hoche and Humbert it was not expected that the force to be landed would suffice of itself, the belief being that it would be joined in each case by a large body of adherents in the raided country. Outside the ranks of the 'extremists of the dinghy school'--whose number is unknown and is almost certainly quite insignificant--no one asserts or ever has asserted that raids in moderate strength are not possible even in the face of a strong defending navy. It is a fact that the whole of our defence policy for many generations has been based upon an admission of their possibility. Captain Mahan's statement of the case has never been questioned by anyone of importance. It is as follows: 'The control of the sea, however real, does not imply that an enemy's single ships or small squadrons cannot steal out of port, cannot cross more or less frequented tracts of ocean, make harassing descents upon unprotected points of a long coast-line, enter blockaded harbours.' It is extraordinary that everyone does not perceive that if this were not true the 'dinghy school' would be right. Students of Clausewitz may be expected to remember that the art of war does not consist in making raids that are unsuccessful; that war is waged to gain certain great objects; and that the course of hostilities between two powerful antagonists is affected little one way or the other by raids even on a considerable scale. The Egyptian expedition of 1798 deserves fuller treatment than it has generally received. The preparations at Toulon and some Italian ports were known to the British Government. It being impossible for even a Moltke or--comparative resources being taken into account--the greater strategist Kodama to know everything in the mind of an opponent, the sensible proceeding is to guard against his doing what would be likely to do you most harm. The British Government had reason to believe that the Toulon expedition was intended to reinforce at an Atlantic port another expedition to be directed against the British Isles, or to effect a landing in Spain with a view to marching into Portugal and depriving our navy of the use of Lisbon. Either if effected would probably cause us serious mischief, and arrangements were made to prevent them. A landing in Egypt was, as the event showed, of little importance. The threat conveyed by it against our Indian possessions proved to be an empty one. Upwards of 30,000 hostile troops were locked up in a country from which they could exercise no influence on the general course of the war, and in which in the end they had to capitulate. Suppose that an expedition crossing the North Sea with the object of invading this country had to content itself with a landing in Iceland, having eventual capitulation before it, should we not consider ourselves very fortunate, though it may have temporarily occupied one of the Shetland Isles _en_route_? The truth of the matter is that the Egyptian expedition was one of the gravest of strategical mistakes, and but for the marvellous subsequent achievements of Napoleon it would have been the typical example of bad strategy adduced by lecturers and writers on the art of war for the warning of students. The supposition that over-sea raids, even when successful in part, in any way demonstrate the inefficiency of naval defence would never be admitted if only land and sea warfare were regarded as branches of one whole and not as quite distinct things. To be consistent, those that admit the supposition should also admit that the practicability of raids demonstrates still more conclusively the insufficiency of defence by an army. An eminent military writer has told us that 'a raiding party of 1000 French landed in Ireland without opposition, after sixteen days of navigation, unobserved by the British Navy; defeated and drove back the British troops opposing them on four separate occasions... entirely occupied the attention of all the available troops of a garrison of Ireland 100,000 strong; penetrated almost to the centre of the island, and compelled the Lord-Lieutenant to send an urgent requisition for "as great a reinforcement as possible."' If an inference is to be drawn from this in the same way as one has been drawn from the circumstances on the sea, it would follow that one hundred thousand troops are not sufficient to prevent a raid by one thousand, and consequently that one million troops would not be sufficient to prevent one by ten thousand enemies. On this there would arise the question, If an army a million strong gives no security against a raid by ten thousand men, is an army worth having? And this question, be it noted, would come, not from disciples of the Blue Water School, 'extremist' or other, but from students of military narrative. The truth is that raids are far more common on land than on the ocean. For every one of the latter it would be possible to adduce several of the former. Indeed, accounts of raids are amongst the common-places of military history. There are few campaigns since the time of that smart cavalry leader Mago, the younger brother of Hannibal, in which raids on land did not occur or in which they exercised any decisive influence on the issue of hostilities. It is only the failure to see the connection between warfare on land and naval warfare that prevents these land raids being given the same significance and importance that is usually given to those carried out across the sea. In the year 1809, the year of Wagram, Napoleon's military influence in Central Germany was, to say the least, not at its lowest. Yet Colonel Schill, of the Prussian cavalry, with 1200 men, subsequently increased to 2000 infantry and 12 squadrons, proceeded to Wittenberg, thence to Magdeburg, and next to Stralsund, which he occupied and where he met his death in opposing an assault made by 6000 French troops. He had defied for a month all the efforts of a large army to suppress him. In the same year the Duke of Brunswick-Oels and Colonel Dornberg, notwithstanding the smallness of the force under them, by their action positively induced Napoleon, only a few weeks before Wagram, to detach the whole corps of Kellerman, 30,000 strong, which otherwise would have been called up to the support of the Grande Armée, to the region in which these enterprising raiders were operating. The mileage covered by Schill was nearly as great as that covered by the part of Hoche's expedition which under Grouchy did reach an Irish port, though it was not landed. Instances of cavalry raids were frequent in the War of Secession in America. The Federal Colonel B. H. Grierson, of the 6th Illinois Cavalry, with another Illinois and an Iowa cavalry regiment, in April 1863 made a raid which lasted sixteen days, and in which he covered 600 miles of hostile country, finally reaching Baton Rouge, where a friendly force was stationed. The Confederate officers, John H. Morgan, John S. Mosby, and especially N. B. Forrest, were famous for the extent and daring of their raids. Of all the leaders of important raids in the War of Secession none surpassed the great Confederate cavalry General, J. E. B. Stuart, whose riding right round the imposing Federal army is well known. Yet not one of the raids above mentioned had any effect on the main course of the war in which they occurred or on the result of the great conflict. In the last war the case was the same. In January 1905, General Mischenko with 10,000 sabres and three batteries of artillery marched right round the flank of Marshal Oyama's great Japanese army, and occupied Niu-chwang--not the treaty port so-called, but a place not very far from it. For several days he was unmolested, and in about a week he got back to his friends with a loss which was moderate in proportion to his numbers. In the following May Mischenko made another raid, this time round General Nogi's flank. He had with him fifty squadrons, a horse artillery battery, and a battery of machine guns. Starting on the 17th, he was discovered on the 18th, came in contact with his enemy on the 19th, but met with no considerable hostile force till the 20th, when the Japanese cavalry arrived just in time to collide with the Russian rearguard of two squadrons. On this General Mischenko 'retired at his ease for some thirty miles along the Japanese flank and perhaps fifteen miles away from it.' These Russians' raids did not alter the course of the war nor bring ultimate victory to their standards. It would be considered by every military authority as a flagrant absurdity to deduce from the history of these many raids on land that a strong army is not a sufficient defence for a continental country against invasion. What other efficient defence against that can a continental country have? Apply the reasoning to the case of an insular country, and reliance on naval defence will be abundantly justified. To maintain that Canada, India, and Egypt respectively could be invaded by the United States, Russia, and Turkey, backed by Germany, notwithstanding any action that our navy could take, would be equivalent to maintaining that one part of our empire cannot or need not reinforce another. Suppose that we had a military force numerically equal to or exceeding the Russian, how could any of it be sent to defend Canada, India, and Egypt, or to reinforce the defenders of those countries, unless our sea communications were kept open? Can these be kept open except by the action of our navy? It is plain that they cannot. VIII QUEEN ELIZABETH AND HER SEAMEN[65] [Footnote 65: Written in 1900. (_Nineteenth_Century_and_After_, 1901.)] An eminent writer has recently repeated the accusations made within the last forty years, and apparently only within that period, against Queen Elizabeth of having starved the seamen of her fleet by giving them food insufficient in quantity and bad in quality, and of having robbed them by keeping them out of the pay due to them. He also accuses the Queen, though somewhat less plainly, of having deliberately acquiesced in a wholesale slaughter of her seamen by remaining still, though no adequate provision had been made for the care of the sick and wounded. There are further charges of obstinately objecting, out of mere stinginess, to take proper measures for the naval defence of the country, and of withholding a sufficient supply of ammunition from her ships when about to meet the enemy. Lest it should be supposed that this is an exaggerated statement of the case against Elizabeth as formulated by the writer in question, his own words are given. He says: 'Instead of strengthening her armaments to the utmost, and throwing herself upon her Parliament for aid, she clung to her moneybags, actually reduced her fleet, withheld ammunition and the more necessary stores, cut off the sailor's food, did, in short, everything in her power to expose the country defenceless to the enemy. The pursuit of the Armada was stopped by the failure of the ammunition, which, apparently, had the fighting continued longer, would have been fatal to the English fleet.' The writer makes on this the rather mild comment that 'treason itself could scarcely have done worse.' Why 'scarcely'? Surely the very blackest treason could not have done worse. He goes on to ask: 'How were the glorious seamen, whose memory will be for ever honoured by England and the world, rewarded after their victory?' This is his answer: 'Their wages were left unpaid, they were docked of their food, and served with poisonous drink, while for the sick and wounded no hospitals were provided. More of them were killed by the Queen's meanness than by the enemy.' It is safe to challenge the students of history throughout the world to produce any parallel to conduct so infamous as that which has thus been imputed to an English queen. If the charges are true, there is no limit to the horror and loathing with which we ought to regard Elizabeth. Are they true? That is the question. I respectfully invite the attention of those who wish to know the truth and to retain their reverence for a great historical character, to the following examination of the accusations and of the foundations on which they rest. It will not, I hope, be considered presumptuous if I say that--in making this examination--personal experience of life in the navy sufficiently extensive to embrace both the present day and the time before the introduction of the great modern changes in system and naval _matériel_ will be of great help. Many things which have appeared so extraordinary to landsmen that they could account for their occurrence only by assuming that this must have been due to extreme culpability or extreme folly will be quite familiar to naval officers whose experience of the service goes back forty years or more, and can be satisfactorily explained by them. There is little reason to doubt that the above-mentioned charges against the great Queen are based exclusively on statements in Froude's History. It is remarkable how closely Froude has been followed by writers treating of Elizabeth and her reign. He was known to have gone to original documents for the sources of his narrative; and it seems to have been taken for granted, not only that his fidelity was above suspicion--an assumption with which I do not deal now--but also that his interpretation of the meaning of those who wrote the papers consulted must be correct. Motley, in his 'History of the United Netherlands,' published in 1860, had dwelt upon the shortness of ammunition and provisions in the Channel Fleet commanded by Lord Howard of Effingham; but he attributed this to bad management on the part of officials, and not to downright baseness on that of Elizabeth. Froude has placed beyond doubt his determination to make the Queen responsible for all shortcomings. 'The Queen,' he says, 'has taken upon herself the detailed arrangement of everything. She and she alone was responsible. She had extended to the dockyards the same hard thrift with which she had pared down her expenses everywhere. She tied the ships to harbour by supplying the stores in driblets. She allowed rations but for a month, and permitted no reserves to be provided in the victualling offices. The ships at Plymouth, furnished from a distance, and with small quantities at a time, were often for many days without food of any kind. Even at Plymouth, short food and poisonous drink had brought dysentery among them. They had to meet the enemy, as it were, with one arm bandaged by their own sovereign. The greatest service ever done by an English fleet had been thus successfully accomplished by men whose wages had not been paid from the time of their engagement, half-starved, with their clothes in rags, and so ill-found in the necessaries of war that they had eked out their ammunition by what they could take in action from the enemy himself. The men expected that at least after such a service they would be paid their wages in full. The Queen was cavilling over the accounts, and would give no orders for money till she had demanded the meaning of every penny that she was charged.... Their legitimate food had been stolen from them by the Queen's own neglect.' We thus see that Froude has made Elizabeth personally responsible for the short rations, the undue delay in paying wages earned, and the fearful sickness which produced a heavy mortality amongst the crews of her Channel Fleet; and also for insufficiently supplying her ships with ammunition. The quotations from the book previously referred to make it clear that it is possible to outdo Froude in his denunciations, even where it is on his statements that the accusers found their charges. In his 'History of England'--which is widely read, especially by the younger generation of Englishmen--the Rev. J. Franck Bright tells us, with regard to the defensive campaign against the Armada: 'The Queen's avarice went near to ruin the country. The miserable supplies which Elizabeth had alone allowed to be sent them (the ships in the Channel) had produced all sorts of disease, and thousands of the crews came from their great victory only to die. In the midst of privations and wanting in all the necessaries of life, the sailors had fought with unflagging energy, with their wages unpaid, with ammunition supplied to them with so stingy a hand that each shot sent on board was registered and accounted for; with provisions withheld, so that the food of four men had habitually to be divided among six, and that food so bad as to be really poisonous.' J. R. Green, in his 'History of the English People,' states that: 'While England was thrilling with the triumph over the Armada, its Queen was coolly grumbling over the cost and making her profit out of the spoiled provisions she had ordered for the fleet that had saved her.' The object of each subsequent historian was to surpass the originator of the calumnies against Elizabeth. In his sketch of her life in the 'Dictionary of National Biography,' Dr. Augustus Jessopp asserts that the Queen's ships 'were notoriously and scandalously ill-furnished with stores and provisions for the sailors, and it is impossible to lay the blame on anyone but the Queen.' He had previously remarked that the merchant vessels which came to the assistance of the men-of-war from London and the smaller ports 'were as a rule far better furnished than the Queen's ships,' which were 'without the barest necessaries.' After these extracts one from Dr. S. R. Gardiner's 'Student's History of England' will appear moderate. Here it is: 'Elizabeth having with her usual economy kept the ships short of powder, they were forced to come back' from the chase of the Armada. The above allegations constitute a heavy indictment of the Queen. No heavier could well be brought against any sovereign or government. Probably the first thing that occurs to anyone who, knowing what Elizabeth's position was, reads the tremendous charges made against her will be, that--if they are true--she must have been without a rival in stupidity as well as in turpitude. There was no person in the world who had as much cause to desire the defeat of the Armada as she had. If the Duke of Medina Sidonia's expedition had been successful she would have lost both her throne and her life. She herself and her father had shown that there could be a short way with Queens--consort or regnant--whom you had in your power, and whose existence might be inconvenient to you. Yet, if we are to believe her accusers, she did her best to ensure her own dethronement and decapitation. 'The country saved itself and its cause in spite of its Queen.' How did this extraordinary view of Elizabeth's conduct arise? What had Froude to go upon when he came forward as her accuser? These questions can be answered with ease. Every Government that comes near going to war, or that has gone to war, is sure to incur one of two charges, made according to circumstances. If the Government prepares for war and yet peace is preserved, it is accused of unpardonable extravagance in making preparations. Whether it makes these on a sufficient scale or not, it is accused, if war does break out--at least in the earlier period of the contest--of not having done enough. Political opponents and the 'man in the street' agree in charging the administration with panic profusion in one case, and with criminal niggardliness in the other. Elizabeth hoped to preserve peace. She had succeeded in keeping out of an 'official' war for a long time, and she had much justification for the belief that she could do so still longer. 'She could not be thoroughly persuaded,' says Mr. David Hannay,[66] 'that it was hopeless to expect to avert the Spanish invasion by artful diplomacy.' Whilst reasonable precautions were not neglected, she was determined that no one should be able to say with truth that she had needlessly thrown away money in a fright. For the general naval policy of England at the time, Elizabeth, as both the nominal and the real head of the Government, is properly held responsible. The event showed the perfect efficiency of that policy. [Footnote 66: _A_Short_History_of_the_Royal_Navy_, pp. 96, 97.] The war having really come, it was inevitable that the Government, and Elizabeth as its head, should be blamed sooner or later for not having made adequate provision for it. No one is better entitled to speak on the naval policy of the Armada epoch than Mr. Julian Corbett,[67] who is not disposed to assume that the Queen's action was above criticism. He says that 'Elizabeth has usually been regarded as guilty of complete and unpardonable inaction.' He explains that 'the event at least justified the Queen's policy. There is no trace of her having been blamed for it at the time at home; nor is there any reason to doubt it was adopted sagaciously and deliberately on the advice of her most capable officers.' Mr. David Hannay, who, as an historian, rightly takes into consideration the conditions of the age, points out that 'Elizabeth was a very poor sovereign, and the maintenance of a great fleet was a heavy drain upon her resources.' He adds: 'There is no reason to suppose that Elizabeth and her Lord Treasurer were careless of their duty; but the Government of the time had very little experience in the maintenance of great military forces.' [Footnote 67: _Drake_and_the_Tudor_Navy_, 1898, vol. ii. p. 117.] If we take the charges against her in detail, we shall find that each is as ill-founded as that of criminal neglect of naval preparations generally. The most serious accusation is that with regard to the victuals. It will most likely be a surprise to many people to find that the seamen of Elizabeth were victualled on a more abundant and much more costly scale than the seamen of Victoria. Nevertheless, such is the fact. In 1565 the contract allowance for victualling was 4-1/2d. a day for each man in harbour, and 5d. a day at sea. There was also an allowance of 4d. a man per month at sea and 8d. in harbour for 'purser's necessaries.' Mr. Oppenheim, in whose valuable work[68] on naval administration the details as to the Elizabethan victualling system are to be found, tells us that in 1586 the rate was raised to 6d. a day in harbour and 6-1/2d. at sea; and that in 1587 it was again raised, this time to 6-1/2d. in harbour and 7d. at sea. These sums were intended to cover both the cost of the food and storage, custody, conveyance, &c., the present-day 'establishment charges.' The repeated raising of the money allowance is convincing proof that the victualling arrangements had not been neglected, and that there was no refusal to sanction increased expenditure to improve them. It is a great thing to have Mr. Oppenheim's high authority for this, because he is not generally favourable to the Queen, though even he admits that it 'is a moot point' how far she was herself responsible. [Footnote 68: _The_Administration_of_the_Royal_Navy,_ _1509-1660_. London, 1896.] If necessary, detailed arguments could be adduced to show that to get the present value of the sums allowed in 1588 we ought to multiply them by six[69] The sum allowed for each man's daily food and the 'establishment charges'--increased as they had been in 1586--did little more than cover the expenditure; and, though it does not appear that the contractor lost money, he nevertheless died a poor man. It will be hardly imputed to Elizabeth for iniquity that she did not consider that the end of government was the enrichment of contractors. The fact that she increased the money payment again in 1587 may be accepted as proof that she did not object to a fair bargain. As has been just said, the Elizabethan scale of victualling was more abundant than the early Victorian, and not less abundant than that given in the earlier years of King Edward VII.[70] As shown by Mr. Hubert Hall and Thorold Rogers, in the price-lists which they publish, the cost of a week's allowance of food for a man-of-war's man in 1588, in the money of the time, amounted to about 1s. 11-1/2d., which, multiplied by six, would be about 11s. 9d. of our present money. The so-called 'savings price' of the early twentieth century allowance was about 9-1/2d. a day, or 5s. 6-1/2d. weekly. The 'savings price' is the amount of money which a man received if he did not take up his victuals, each article having a price attached to it for that purpose. It may be interesting to know that the full allowance was rarely, perhaps never, taken up, and that some part of the savings was till the last, and for many years had been, almost invariably paid. [Footnote 69: See Mr. Hubert Hall's _Society_in_the_Elizabethan_ _Age_, and Thorold Rogers's _History_of_Agriculture_and_Prices_, vols. v. and vi. Froude himself puts the ratio at six to one.] [Footnote 70: It will be convenient to compare the two scales in a footnote, observing that--as I hope will not be thought impertinent--I draw on my own personal experience for the more recent, which was in force for some years after I went to sea. WEEKLY ---------------------------------------------- | | | Early | | | Elizabethan | Victorian | | | scale | scale | |----------------------------------------------| | Beef | 8 lbs. | 7 lbs. | | Biscuit | 7 " | 7 " | | Salted fish | 9 " | none | | Cheese | 3/4 lb. | " | | Butter | " | " | | Beer | 7 gallons | " | | Vegetables | none | 3-1/2 lbs. | | Spirits | " | 7/8 pint | | Tea | " | 1-3/4 oz. | | Sugar | " | 14 " | | Cocoa | " | 7 " | ---------------------------------------------- There is now a small allowance of oatmeal, pepper, mustard, and vinegar, against which we may set the 'purser's necessaries' of Elizabeth's day. In that day but little sugar was used, and tea and cocoa were unknown even in palaces. It is just a question if seven gallons of beer did not make up for the weekly allowance of these and for the seven-eighths of a pint of spirits. Tea was only allowed in 1850, and was not an additional article. It replaced part of the spirits. The biscuit allowance is now 8-3/4 lbs. Weekly. The Victorian dietary is more varied and wholesome than the Elizabethan; but, as we have seen, it is less abundant and can be obtained for much less money, even if we grant that the 'savings price'--purposely kept low to avoid all suggestion that the men are being bribed into stinting themselves--is less than the real cost. The excess of this latter, however, is not likely to be more than 30 per cent., so that Elizabeth's expenditure in this department was more liberal than the present. Such defects as were to be found in the Elizabethan naval dietary were common to it with that of the English people generally. If there was plenty, there was but little variety in the food of our ancestors of all ranks three centuries ago. As far as was possible in the conditions of the time, Elizabeth's Government did make provision for victualling the fleet on a sufficient and even liberal scale; and, notwithstanding slender pecuniary resources, repeatedly increased the money assigned to it, on cause being shown. In his eagerness to make Queen Elizabeth a monster of treacherous rapacity, Froude has completely overreached himself, He says that 'she permitted some miserable scoundrel to lay a plan before her for saving expense, by cutting down the seamen's diet.' The 'miserable scoundrel' had submitted a proposal for diminishing the expenses which the administration was certainly ill able to bear, The candid reader will draw his own conclusions when he finds that the Queen did not approve the plan submitted; and yet that not one of her assailants has let this appear.[71] [Footnote 71: It may be stated here that the word 'rations' is unknown in the navy. The official term is 'victuals.' The term in common use is 'provisions.'] It is, of course, possible to concede that adequate arrangements had been made for the general victualling of the fleet; and still to maintain that, after all, the sailors afloat actually did run short of food. In his striking 'Introduction to the Armada Despatches' published by the Navy Records Society, Professor Sir John Laughton declares that: 'To anyone examining the evidence, there can be no question as to victualling being conducted on a fairly liberal scale, as far as the money was concerned. It was in providing the victuals that the difficulty lay.... When a fleet of unprecedented magnitude was collected, when a sudden and unwonted demand was made on the victualling officers, it would have been strange indeed if things had gone quite smoothly.' There are plenty of naval officers who have had experience, and within the last ten years of the nineteenth century, of the difficulty, and sometimes of the impossibility, of getting sufficient supplies for a large number of ships in rather out-of-the-way places. In 1588 the comparative thinness of population and insufficiency of communications and means of transport must have constituted obstacles, far greater than any encountered in our own day, to the collection of supplies locally and to their timely importation from a distance. 'You would not believe,' says Lord Howard of Effingham himself, 'what a wonderful thing it is to victual such an army as this is in such a narrow corner of the earth, where a man would think that neither victuals were to be had nor a cask to put it in.' No more effective defence of Elizabeth and her Ministers could well be advanced than that which Mr. Oppenheim puts forward as a corroboration of the accusation against them. He says that the victualling officials 'found no difficulty in arranging for 13,000 men in 1596 and 9200 in 1597 after timely notice.' This is really a high compliment, as it proves that the authorities were quite ready to, and in fact did, learn from experience. Mr. Oppenheim, however, is not an undiscriminating assailant of the Queen; for he remarks, as has been already said, that, 'how far Elizabeth was herself answerable is a moot point.' He tells us that there 'is no direct evidence against her'; and the charge levelled at her rests not on proof, but on 'strong probability.' One would like to have another instance out of all history, of probability, however strong, being deemed sufficient to convict a person of unsurpassed treachery and stupidity combined, when the direct evidence, which is not scanty, fails to support the charge and indeed points the other way. The Lord Admiral himself and other officers have been quoted to show how badly off the fleet was for food. Yet at the close of the active operations against the Armada, Sir J. Hawkins wrote: 'Here is victual sufficient, and I know not why any should be provided after September, but for those which my Lord doth mean to leave in the narrow seas.' On the same day Howard himself wrote from Dover: 'I have caused all the remains of victuals to be laid here and at Sandwich, for the maintaining of them that shall remain in the Narrow Seas.' Any naval officer with experience of command who reads Howard's representations on the subject of the victuals will at once perceive that what the Admiral was anxious about was not the quantity on board the ships, but the stock in reserve. Howard thought that the latter ought to be a supply for six weeks. The Council thought a month's stock would be enough; and--as shown by the extracts from Howard's and Hawkins's letters just given--the Council was right in its estimate. Anyone who has had to write or to read official letters about stocks of stores and provisions will find something especially modern in Howard's representations. Though the crews of the fleet did certainly come near the end of their victuals afloat, there is no case of their having actually run out of them. The complement of an ordinary man-of-war in the latter part of the sixteenth century, judged by our modern standard, was very large in proportion to her size. It was impossible for her to carry provisions enough to last her men for a long time. Any unexpected prolongation of a cruise threatened a reduction to short commons. A great deal has been made of the fact that Howard had to oblige six men to put up with the allowance of four. 'When a large force,' says Mr. D. Hannay, 'was collected for service during any length of time, it was the common rule to divide four men's allowance among six.' There must be still many officers and men to whom the plan would seem quite familiar. It is indicated by a recognised form of words, 'six upon four.' I have myself been 'six upon four' several times, mostly in the Pacific, but also, on at least one occasion, in the East Indies. As far as I could see, no one appeared to regard it as an intolerable hardship. The Government, it should be known, made no profit out of the process, because money was substituted for the food not issued. Howard's recourse to it was not due to immediate insufficiency. Speaking of the merchant vessels which came to reinforce him, he says: 'We are fain to help them with victuals to bring them thither. There is not any of them that hath one day's victuals.' These merchant vessels were supplied by private owners; and it is worth noting that, in the teeth of this statement by Howard, Dr. Jessopp, in his eagerness to blacken Elizabeth, says that they 'were, as a rule, far better furnished than the Queen's ships.' The Lord Admiral on another occasion, before the fight off Gravelines, said of the ships he hoped would join him from Portsmouth: 'Though they have not two days' victuals, let that not be the cause of their stay, for they shall have victuals out of our fleet,' a conclusive proof that his ships were not very short. As to the accusation of deliberately issuing food of bad quality, that is effectually disposed of by the explanation already given of the method employed in victualling the navy. A sum was paid for each man's daily allowance to a contractor, who was expressly bound to furnish 'good and seasonable victuals.'[72] Professor Laughton, whose competence in the matter is universally allowed, informs us that complaints of bad provisions are by no means confined to the Armada epoch, and were due, not to intentional dishonesty and neglect, but to insufficient knowledge of the way to preserve provisions for use on rather long cruises. Mr. Hannay says that the fleet sent to the coast of Spain, in the year after the defeat of the Armada, suffered much from want of food and sickness. 'Yet it was organised, not by the Queen, but by a committee of adventurers who had every motive to fit it out well.' It is the fashion with English historians to paint the condition of the navy in the time of the Commonwealth in glowing colours, yet Mr. Oppenheim cites many occasions of well-founded complaints of the victuals. He says: 'The quality of the food supplied to the men and the honesty of the victualling agents both steadily deteriorated during the Commonwealth.' Lord Howard's principal difficulty was with the beer, which would go sour. The beer was the most frequent subject of protest in the Commonwealth times. Also, in 1759, Lord (then Sir Edward) Hawke reported: 'Our daily employment is condemning the beer from Plymouth.' The difficulty of brewing beer that would stand a sea voyage seemed to be insuperable. The authorities, however, did not soon abandon attempts to get the right article. Complaints continued to pour in; but they went on with their brewing till 1835, and then gave it up as hopeless. [Footnote 72: See 'The Mariners of England before the Armada,' by Mr. H. Halliday Sparling, in the _English_Illustrated_Magazine_, July 1, 1891.] One must have had personal experience of the change to enable one to recognise the advance that has been made in the art of preserving articles of food within the last half-century. In the first Drury Lane pantomime that I can remember--about a year before I went to sea--a practical illustration of the quality of some of the food supplied to the navy was offered during the harlequinade by the clown, who satisfied his curiosity as to the contents of a large tin of 'preserved meat' by pulling out a dead cat. On joining the service I soon learned that, owing to the badness of the 'preserved' food that had been supplied, the idea of issuing tinned meat had been abandoned. It was not resumed till some years later. It is often made a joke against naval officers of a certain age that, before eating a biscuit, they have a trick of rapping the table with it. We contracted the habit as midshipmen when it was necessary to get rid of the weevils in the biscuit before it could be eaten, and a fairly long experience taught us that rapping the table with it was an effectual plan for expelling them. There is no more justification for accusing Queen Elizabeth of failure to provide well-preserved food to her sailors than there is for accusing her of not having sent supplies to Plymouth by railway. Steam transport and efficient food preservation were equally unknown in her reign and for long after. It has been intimated above that, even had she wished to, she could not possibly have made any money out of bad provisions. The victualling system did not permit of her doing so. The austere republican virtue of the Commonwealth authorities enabled them to do what was out of Elizabeth's power. In 1653, 'beer and other provisions "decayed and unfit for use" were licensed for export free of Customs.' Mr. Oppenheim, who reports this fact, makes the remarkable comment that this was done 'perhaps in the hope that such stores would go to Holland,' with whose people we were at war. As the heavy mortality in the navy had always been ascribed to the use of bad provisions, we cannot refuse to give to the sturdy Republicans who governed England in the seventeenth century the credit of contemplating a more insidious and more effective method of damaging their enemy than poisoning his wells. One would like to have it from some jurist if the sale of poisonously bad food to your enemy is disallowed by international law. That there was much sickness in the fleet and that many seamen died is, unfortunately, true. If Howard's evidence is to be accepted--as it always is when it seems to tell against the Queen--it is impossible to attribute this to the bad quality of the food then supplied. The Lord Admiral's official report is 'that the ships of themselves be so infectious and corrupted as it is thought to be a very plague; and we find that the fresh men that we draw into our ships are infected one day and die the next.' The least restrained assertor of the 'poisonous' food theory does not contend that it killed men within twenty-four hours. The Armada reached the Channel on the 20th of July (30th, New Style). A month earlier Howard had reported that 'several men have fallen sick and by thousands fain to be discharged'; and, after the fighting was over, he said of the _Elizabeth_Jonas_, she 'hath had a great infection in her from the beginning.' Lord Henry Seymour, who commanded the division of the fleet stationed in the Straits of Dover, noted that the sickness was a repetition of that of the year before, and attributed it not to bad food, but to the weather. 'Our men,' he wrote, 'fall sick by reason of the cold nights and cold mornings we find; and I fear me they will drop away faster than they did last year with Sir Henry Palmer, which was thick enough.' 'The sickness,' says Professor Laughton, 'was primarily and chiefly due to infection from the shore and ignorance or neglect of what we now know as sanitary laws.... Similar infections continued occasionally to scourge our ships' companies, and still more frequently French and Spanish ships' companies, till near the close of the eighteenth century.' It is not likely that any evidence would suffice to divert from their object writers eager to hurl calumny at a great sovereign; but a little knowledge of naval and of military history also would have saved their readers from a belief in their accusations. In 1727 the fleet in the West Indies commanded by Admiral Hosier, commemorated in Glover's ballad, lost ten flag officers and captains, fifty lieutenants, and 4000 seamen. In the Seven Years' war the total number belonging to the fleet killed in action was 1512; whilst the number that died of disease and were missing was 133,708. From 1778 to 1783, out of 515,000 men voted by Parliament for the navy, 132,623 were 'sent sick.' In the summer, 1779, the French fleet cruising at the mouth of the English Channel, after landing 500, had still about 2000 men sick. At the beginning of autumn the number of sick had become so great that many ships had not enough men to work them. The _Ville_de_Paris_ had 560 sick, and lost 61. The _Auguste_ had 500 sick, and lost 44. On board the _Intrépide_ 70 died out of 529 sick. These were the worst cases; but other ships also suffered heavily. It is, perhaps, not generally remembered till what a very late date armies and navies were more than decimated by disease. In 1810 the House of Commons affirmed by a resolution, concerning the Walcheren Expedition: 'That on the 19th of August a malignant disorder showed itself amongst H.M. troops; and that on the 8th of September the number of sick amounted to upwards of 10,948 men. That of the army which embarked for service in the Scheldt sixty officers and 3900 men, exclusive of those killed by the enemy, had died before the 1st of February last.' In a volume of 'Military, Medical, and Surgical Essays'[73] prepared for the United States' Sanitary Commission, and edited by Dr. Wm. A. Hammond, Surgeon-General of the U.S. Army, it is stated that, in our Peninsular army, averaging a strength of 64,227 officers and men, the annual rate of mortality from the 25th of December 1810 to the 25th of May 1813 was 10 per cent. of the officers and 16 per cent. of the men. We may calculate from this that some 25,000 officers and men died. There were 22-1/2 per cent., or over 14,000, 'constantly sick.' Out of 309,268 French soldiers sent to the Crimea in 1855-6, the number of killed and those who died of wounds was 7500, the number who died of disease was 61,700. At the same date navies also suffered. Dr. Stilon Mends, in his life of his father,[74] Admiral Sir William Mends, prints a letter in which the Admiral, speaking of the cholera in the fleets at Varna, says: 'The mortality on board the _Montebello_, _Ville_de_Paris_, _Valmy_ (French ships), and _Britannia_ (British) has been terrible; the first lost 152 in three days, the second 120 in three days, the third 80 in ten days, but the last lost 50 in one night and 10 the subsequent day.' Kinglake tells us that in the end the _Britannia's_ loss went up to 105. With the above facts before us, we are compelled to adopt one of two alternatives. We must either maintain that sanitary science made no advance between 1588 and 1855, or admit that the mortality in Elizabeth's fleet became what it was owing to ignorance of sanitary laws and not to intentional bad management. As regards care of the sick, it is to be remembered that the establishment of naval and military hospitals for the reception of sick soldiers and sailors is of recent date. For instance, the two great English military hospitals, Netley and the Herbert, are only about sixty years old. [Footnote 73: Philadelphia, 1864.] [Footnote 74: London, 1899.] So far from our fleet in 1588 having been ill-supplied with ammunition, it was in reality astonishingly well equipped, considering the age. We learn from Mr. Julian Corbett,[75] that 'during the few years immediately preceding the outbreak of the war, the Queen's navy had been entirely re-armed with brass guns, and in the process of re-armament a great advance in simplicity had been secured.' Froude, without seeing where the admission would land him, admits that our fleet was more plentifully supplied than the Armada, in which, he says, 'the supply of cartridges was singularly small. The King [Philip the Second] probably considered that a single action would decide the struggle; and it amounted to but fifty rounds for each gun.' Our own supply therefore exceeded fifty rounds. In his life of Vice-Admiral Lord Lyons,[76] Sir S. Eardley Wilmot tells us that the British ships which attacked the Sebastopol forts in October 1854 'could only afford to expend seventy rounds per gun.' At the close of the nineteenth century, the regulated allowance for guns mounted on the broadside was eighty-five rounds each. Consequently, the Elizabethan allowance was nearly, if not quite, as much as that which our authorities, after an experience of naval warfare during three centuries, thought sufficient. 'The full explanation,' says Professor Laughton, 'of the want [of ammunition] seems to lie in the rapidity of fire which has already been mentioned. The ships had the usual quantity on board; but the expenditure was more, very many times more, than anyone could have conceived.' Mr. Julian Corbett considers it doubtful if the ammunition, in at least one division of the fleet, was nearly exhausted. [Footnote 75: _The_Spanish_War_, 1585-87 (Navy Records Society), 1898, p. 323.] [Footnote 76: London, 1898, p. 236.] Exhaustion of the supply of ammunition in a single action is a common naval occurrence. The not very decisive character of the battle of Malaga between Sir George Rooke and the Count of Toulouse in 1704 was attributed to insufficiency of ammunition, the supply in our ships having been depleted by what 'Mediterranean' Byng, afterwards Lord Torrington, calls the 'furious fire' opened on Gibraltar. The Rev. Thomas Pocock, Chaplain of the _Ranelagh_, Byng's flag-ship at Malaga, says:[77] 'Many of our ships went out of the line for want of ammunition.' Byng's own opinion, as stated by the compiler of his memoirs, was, that 'it may without great vanity be said that the English had gained a greater victory if they had been supplied with ammunition as they ought to have been.' I myself heard the late Lord Alcester speak of the anxiety that had been caused him by the state of his ships' magazines after the attack on the Alexandria forts in 1882. At a still later date, Admiral Dewey in Manila Bay interrupted his attack on the Spanish squadron to ascertain how much ammunition his ships had left. The carrying capacity of ships being limited, rapid gun-fire in battle invariably brings with it the risk of running short of ammunition. It did this in the nineteenth century just as much as, probably even more than, it did in the sixteenth. [Footnote 77: In his journal (p. 197), printed as an Appendix to _Memoirs_relating_to_the_Lord_Torrington_, edited by J. K. Laughton for the Camden Society, 1889.] To charge Elizabeth with criminal parsimony because she insisted on every shot being 'registered and accounted for' will be received with ridicule by naval officers. Of course every shot, and for the matter of that every other article expended, has to be accounted for. One of the most important duties of the gunner of a man-of-war is to keep a strict account of the expenditure of all gunnery stores. This was more exactly done under Queen Victoria than it was under Queen Elizabeth. Naval officers are more hostile to 'red tape' than most men, and they may lament the vast amount of bookkeeping that modern auditors and committees of public accounts insist upon, but they are convinced that a reasonable check on expenditure of stores is indispensable to efficient organisation. So far from blaming Elizabeth for demanding this, they believe that both she and Burleigh, her Lord Treasurer, were very much in advance of their age. Another charge against her is that she defrauded her seamen of their wages. The following is Froude's statement:-- 'Want of the relief, which, if they had been paid their wages, they might have provided for themselves had aggravated the tendencies to disease, and a frightful mortality now set in through the entire fleet.' The word 'now' is interesting, Froude having had before him Howard's and Seymour's letters, already quoted, showing that the appearance of the sickness was by no means recent. Elizabeth's illiberality towards her seamen may be judged from the fact that in her reign their pay was certainly increased once and perhaps twice.[78] In 1585 the sailor's pay was raised from 6s. 8d. to 10s. a month. A rise of pay of 50 per cent. all at once is, I venture to say, entirely without parallel in the navy since, and cannot well be called illiberal. The Elizabethan 10s. would be equal to £3 in our present accounts; and, as the naval month at the earlier date was the lunar, a sailor's yearly wages would be equal to £39 now. The year's pay of an A.B., 'non-continuous service,' as Elizabeth's sailors were, is at the present time £24 6s. 8d. It is true that the sailor now can receive additional pay for good-conduct badges, gunnery-training, &c., and also can look forward to that immense boon--a pension--nearly, but thanks to Sir J. Hawkins and Drake's establishment of the 'Chatham Chest,' not quite unknown in the sixteenth century. Compared with the rate of wages ruling on shore, Elizabeth's seamen were paid highly. Mr. Hubert Hall states that for labourers 'the usual rate was 2d. or 3d. a day.' Ploughmen received a shilling a week. In these cases 'board' was also given. The sailor's pay was 5s. a week with board. Even compared with skilled labour on shore the sailor of the Armada epoch was well paid. Thorold Rogers gives, for 1588, the wages, without board, of carpenters and masons at 10d. and 1s. a day. A plumber's wages varied from 10-1/2d. to 1s.; but there is one case of a plumber receiving as much as 1s. 4d., which was probably for a single day. [Footnote 78: Mr. Halliday Sparling, in the article already referred to (p. 651), says twice; but Mr. Oppenheim seems to think that the first increase was before Elizabeth's accession.] Delay in the payment of wages was not peculiar to the Elizabethan system. It lasted very much longer, down to our own times in fact. In 1588 the seamen of the fleet were kept without their pay for several months. In the great majority of cases, and most likely in all, the number of these months was less than six. Even within the nineteenth century men-of-war's men had to wait for their pay for years. Commander C. N. Robinson, in his 'British Fleet,'[79] a book that ought to be in every Englishman's library, remarks: 'All through the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries it was the rule not to pay anybody until the end of the commission, and to a certain degree the practice obtained until some fifty years ago.' As to the nineteenth century, Lord Dundonald, speaking in Parliament, may be quoted. He said that of the ships on the East Indies station, the _Centurion's_ men had been unpaid for eleven years; the _Rattlesnake's_ for fourteen; the _Fox's_ for fifteen. The Elizabethan practice compared with this will look almost precipitate instead of dilatory. To draw again on my personal experience, I may say that I have been kept without pay for a longer time than most of the people in Lord Howard's fleet, as, for the first two years that I was at sea, young officers were paid only once in six months; and then never in cash, but always in bills. The reader may be left to imagine what happened when a naval cadet tried to get a bill for some £7 or £8 cashed at a small Spanish-American port. [Footnote 79: London, 1894.] A great deal has been made of the strict audit of the accounts of Howard's fleet. The Queen, says Froude, 'would give no orders for money till she had demanded the meaning of every penny that she was charged.' Why she alone should be held up to obloquy for this is not clear. Until a very recent period, well within the last reign, no commanding officer, on a ship being paid off, could receive the residue of his pay, or get any half-pay at all, until his 'accounts had been passed.'[80] The same rule applied to officers in charge of money or stores. It has been made a further charge against Elizabeth that her officers had to meet certain expenditure out of their own pockets. That certainly is not a peculiarity of the sixteenth-century navy. Till less than fifty years ago the captain of a British man-of-war had to provide one of the three chronometers used in the navigation of his ship. Even later than that the articles necessary for cleaning the ship and everything required for decorating her were paid for by the officers, almost invariably by the first lieutenant, or second in command. There must be many officers still serving who have spent sums, considerable in the aggregate, of their own money on public objects. Though pressure in this respect has been much relieved of late, there are doubtless many who do so still. It is, in fact, a traditional practice in the British Navy and is not in the least distinctly Elizabethan. [Footnote 80: This happened to me in 1904.] Some acquaintance with present conditions and accurate knowledge of the naval methods prevailing in the great Queen's reign--a knowledge which the publication of the original documents puts within the reach of anyone who really cares to know the truth--will convince the candid inquirer that Elizabeth's administration of the navy compares favourably with that of any of her successors; and that, for it, she deserves the admiration and unalloyed gratitude of the nation. IX[81] [Footnote 81: Written in 1905. (_Cornhill_Magazine_.)] NELSON: THE CENTENARY OF TRAFALGAR [The following article was read as an address, in compliance with the request of its Council, at the annual meeting of the Navy Records Society in July 1905. It was, and indeed is still, my opinion, as stated to the meeting in some prefatory remarks, that the address would have come better from a professed historian, several members of the Society being well known as entitled to that designation. The Council, however, considered that, as Nelson's tactical principles and achievements should be dealt with, it would be better for the address to be delivered by a naval officer--one, moreover, who had personal experience of the manoeuvres of fleets under sail. Space would not suffice for treating of Nelson's merits as a strategist, though they are as great as those which he possessed as a tactician.] Centenary commemorations are common enough; but the commemoration of Nelson has a characteristic which distinguishes it from most, if not from all, others. In these days we forget soon. What place is still kept in our memories by even the most illustrious of those who have but recently left us? It is not only that we do not remember their wishes and injunctions; their existence has almost faded from our recollection. It is not difficult to persuade people to commemorate a departed worthy; but in most cases industry has to take the place of enthusiasm, and moribund or extinct remembrances have to be galvanised by assiduity into a semblance of life. In the case of Nelson the conditions are very different. He may have been misunderstood; even by his professional descendants his acts and doctrines may have been misinterpreted; but he has never been forgotten. The time has now come when we can specially do honour to Nelson's memory without wounding the feelings of other nations. There is no need to exult over or even to expatiate on the defeats of others. In recalling the past it is more dignified as regards ourselves, and more considerate of the honour of our great admiral, to think of the valour and self-devotion rather than the misfortunes of those against whom he fought. We can do full justice to Nelson's memory without reopening old wounds. The first thing to be noted concerning him is that he is the only man who has ever lived who by universal consent is without a peer. This is said in full view of the new constellation rising above the Eastern horizon; for that constellation, brilliant as it is, has not yet reached the meridian. In every walk of life, except that which Nelson chose as his own, you will find several competitors for the first place, each one of whom will have many supporters. Alexander of Macedon, Hannibal, Cæsar, Marlborough, Frederick the Great, and Napoleon have been severally put forward for the palm of generalship. To those who would acclaim Richelieu as the first of statesmen, others would oppose Chatham, or William Pitt, or Cavour, or Bismarck, or Marquis Ito. Who was the first of sculptors? who the first of painters? who the first of poets? In every case there is a great difference of opinion. Ask, however, who was the first of admirals, and the unanimous reply will still be--'Nelson,' tried as he was by many years of high command in war. It is not only amongst his fellow-countrymen that his preeminence is acknowledged. Foreigners admit it as readily as we proclaim it ourselves. We may consider what it was that gave Nelson this unique position among men. The early conditions of his naval career were certainly not favourable to him. It is true that he was promoted when young; but so were many other officers. Nelson was made a commander only a few months after the outbreak of war between Great Britain and France, and was made a post-captain within a few days of the declaration of war by Spain. An officer holding a rank qualifying him for command at the outset of a great war might well have looked forward confidently to exceptional opportunities of distinguishing himself. Even in our own days, when some trifling campaign is about to be carried on, the officers who are employed where they can take no part in it vehemently lament their ill-fortune. How much more disheartening must it have been to be excluded from active participation in a great and long-continued conflict! This was Nelson's case. As far as his hopes of gaining distinction were concerned, fate seemed to persecute him pertinaciously. He was a captain of more than four years' seniority when the treaty of Versailles put an end to the war of American Independence. Yet, with the exception of the brief Nicaragua expedition--which by the side of the important occurrences of grand naval campaigns must have seemed insignificant--his services during all those years of hostilities were uneventful, and even humdrum. He seemed to miss every important operation; and when the war ended--we may almost say--he had never seen a ship fire a broadside in anger. There then came what promised to be, and in fact turned out to be, a long period of peace. With no distinguished war service to point to, and with the prospect before him of only uneventful employment, or no employment afloat at all, Nelson might well have been disheartened to the verge of despondency. That he was not disheartened, but, instead thereof, made a name for himself in such unfavourable circumstances, must be accepted as one of the most convincing proofs of his rare force of character. To have attracted the notice, and to have secured the confidence, of so great a sea-officer as Lord Hood constituted a distinction which could have been won only by merit so considerable that it could not long remain unrecognised. The war of American Independence had still seven months to run when Lord Hood pointed to Nelson as an officer to be consulted on 'questions relative to naval tactics,' Professor Laughton tells us that at that time Nelson had never served with a fleet. Lord Hood was one of the last men in the world to go out of his way to pay to a youthful subordinate an empty compliment, and we may confidently base our estimate of an officer's merits on Lord Hood's belief in them. He, no doubt, gave a Wide signification to the term 'tactics,' and used it as embracing all that is included in the phrase 'conduct of war.' He must have found out, from conversations with, and from the remarks of, the young captain, whom he treated as intimately as if he was his son, that the latter was already, what he continued to be till the end, viz. a student of naval warfare. This point deserves particular attention. The officers of the navy of the present day, period of peace though it be, can imitate Nelson at least in this. He had to wait a long time before he could translate into brilliant action the result of his tactical studies. Fourteen years after Lord Hood spoke of him as above related, by a 'spontaneous and sudden act, for which he had no authority by signal or otherwise, except his own judgment and quick perceptions,' Nelson entirely defeated the movement of the enemy's fleet, contributed to the winning of a great victory, and, as Captain Mahan tells us, 'emerged from merely personal distinction to national renown.' The justification of dwelling on this is to be found in the necessity, even at this day, of preventing the repetition of mistakes concerning Nelson's qualities and disposition. His recent biographers, Captain Mahan and Professor Laughton, feel constrained to tell us over and over again that Nelson's predominant characteristic was not mere 'headlong valour and instinct for fighting'; that he was not the man 'to run needless and useless risks' in battle. 'The breadth and acuteness of Nelson's intellect,' says Mahan, 'have been too much overlooked in the admiration excited by his unusually grand moral endowments of resolution, dash, and fearlessness of responsibility!' In forming a true conception of what Nelson was, the publications of the Navy Records Society will help us greatly. There is something very remarkable in the way in which Mr. Gutteridge's volume[82] not only confirms Captain Mahan's refutation of the aspersions on Nelson's honour and humanity, but also establishes Professor Laughton's conclusions, reached many years ago, that it was the orders given to him, and not his amour, which detained him at Naples at a well-known epoch. The last volume issued by the Society, that of Mr. Julian Corbett,[83] is, I venture to affirm, the most useful to naval officers that has yet appeared among the Society's publications. It will provide them with an admirable historical introduction to the study of tactics, and greatly help them in ascertaining the importance of Nelson's achievements as a tactician. For my own part, I may say with gratitude that but for Mr. Corbett's valuable work I could not have completed this appreciation. [Footnote 82: _Nelson_and_the_Neapolitan_Jacobins_.] [Footnote 83: _Fighting_Instructions_, 1530-1816.] The most renowned of Nelson's achievements was that performed in his final battle and victory. Strange as it may seem, that celebrated performance has been the subject of much controversy, and, brilliant as it was, the tactics adopted in it have been freely, and indeed unfavourably, criticised. There is still much difference of opinion as to the preliminary movements, and as to the exact method by which Nelson's attack was made. It has been often asserted that the method really followed was not that which Nelson had expressly declared his intention of adopting. The question raised concerning this is a difficult one, and, until the appearance of Mr. Julian Corbett's recent work and the interesting volume on Trafalgar lately published by Mr. H. Newbolt, had not been fully discussed. The late Vice-Admiral P. H. Colomb contributed to the _United_Service_Magazine_ of September 1899 a very striking article on the subject of Nelson's tactics in his last battle, and those who propose to study the case should certainly peruse what he wrote. The criticism of Nelson's procedure at Trafalgar in its strongest form may be summarised as follows. It is affirmed that he drew up and communicated to the officers under his orders a certain plan of attack; that just before the battle he changed his plan without warning; that he hurried on his attack unnecessarily; that he exposed his fleet to excessive peril; and, because of all this, that the British loss was much heavier and much less evenly distributed among the ships of the fleet than it need have been. The most formidable arraignment of the mode of Nelson's last attack is, undoubtedly, to be found in the paper published by Sir Charles Ekins in his book on 'Naval Battles,' and vouched for by him as the work of an eye-witness--almost certainly, as Mr. Julian Corbett holds, an officer on board the _Conqueror_ in the battle. It is a remarkable document. Being critical rather than instructive, it is not to be classed with the essay of Clerk of Eldin; but it is one of the most important contributions to the investigation of tactical questions ever published in the English tongue. On it are based nearly, or quite, all the unfavourable views expressed concerning the British tactics at Trafalgar. As it contains a respectfully stated, but still sharp, criticism of Nelson's action, it will not be thought presumptuous if we criticise it in its turn. Notwithstanding the fact that the author of the paper actually took part in the battle, and that he was gifted with no mean tactical insight, it is permissible to say that his remarks have an academic tinge. In fact, they are very much of the kind that a clever professor of tactics, who had not felt the responsibilities inseparable from the command of a fleet, would put before a class of students. Between a professor of tactics, however clever, and a commanding genius like Nelson the difference is great indeed. The writer of the paper in question perhaps expressed the more general opinion of his day. He has certainly suggested opinions to later generations of naval officers. The captains who shared in Nelson's last great victory did not agree among themselves as to the mode in which the attack was introduced. It was believed by some of them, and, thanks largely to the _Conqueror_ officer's paper, it is generally believed now, that, whereas Nelson had announced his intention of advancing to the attack in lines-abreast or lines-of-bearing, he really did so in lines-ahead. Following up the path of investigation to which, in his article above mentioned, Admiral Colomb had already pointed, we can, I think, arrive only at the conclusion that the announced intention was adhered to. Before the reasons for this conclusion are given it will be convenient to deal with the suggestions, or allegations, that Nelson exposed his fleet at Trafalgar to unduly heavy loss, putting it in the power of the enemy--to use the words of the _Conqueror's_ officer--to 'have annihilated the ships one after another in detail'; and that 'the brunt of the action would have been more equally felt' had a different mode of advance from that actually chosen been adopted. Now, Trafalgar was a battle in which an inferior fleet of twenty-six ships gained a victory over a superior fleet of thirty-three. The victory was so decisive that more than half of the enemy's capital ships were captured or destroyed on the spot, and the remainder were so battered that some fell an easy prey to the victor's side soon after the battle, the rest having limped painfully to the shelter of a fortified port near at hand. To gain such a victory over a superior force of seamen justly celebrated for their spirit and gallantry, very hard fighting was necessary. The only actions of the Napoleonic period that can be compared with it are those of Camperdown, the Nile, and Copenhagen. The proportionate loss at Trafalgar was the least in all the four battles.[84] The allegation that, had Nelson followed a different method at Trafalgar, the 'brunt of the action would have been more equally felt' can be disposed of easily. In nearly all sea-fights, whether Nelsonic in character or not, half of the loss of the victors has fallen on considerably less than half the fleet. That this has been the rule, whatever tactical method may have been adopted, will appear from the following statement. In Rodney's victory (12th April 1782) half the loss fell upon nine ships out of thirty-six, or one-fourth; at 'The First of June' it fell upon five ships out of twenty-five, or one-fifth; at St. Vincent it fell upon three ships out of fifteen, also one-fifth; at Trafalgar half the loss fell on five ships out of twenty-seven, or very little less than an exact fifth. It has, therefore, been conclusively shown that, faulty or not faulty, long-announced or hastily adopted, the plan on which the battle of Trafalgar was fought did not occasion excessive loss to the victors or confine the loss, such as it was, to an unduly small portion of their fleet. As bearing on this question of the relative severity of the British loss at Trafalgar, it may be remarked that in that battle there were several British ships which had been in other great sea-fights. Their losses in these latter were in nearly every case heavier than their Trafalgar losses.[85] Authoritative and undisputed figures show how baseless are the suggestions that Nelson's tactical procedure at Trafalgar caused his fleet to suffer needlessly heavy loss. [Footnote 84: Camperdown 825 loss out of 8,221: 10 per cent. The Nile 896 " " 7,401: 12.1 " Copenhagen 941 " " 6,892: 13.75 " _Trafalgar_ 1,690 " " 17,256: 9.73 " ] [Footnote 85: ---------------------------------------------------------------------- | | | | | | Trafalgar | | Ship | Action |Killed|Wounded|Total|--------------------| | | | | | |Killed|Wounded|Total| |----------------------------------------------------------------------| |_Ajax_ | Rodney's | 9 | 10 | 19 | 2 | 9 | 11 | | |(Ap. 12, 1782)| | | | | | | |_Agamemnon_ | " | 15 | 22 | 37 | 2 | 8 | 10 | |_Conqueror_ | " | 7 | 22 | 29 | 3 | 9 | 12 | |_Defence_ | 1st June | 17 | 36 | 53 | 7 | 29 | 36 | |_Bellerophon_| The Nile | 49 | 148 | 197 | 27 | 123 | 150 | |_Swiftsure_ | " | 7 | 22 | 29 | 9 | 8 | 17 | |_Defiance_ | Copenhagen | 24 | 21 | 45 | 17 | 53 | 70 | |_Polyphemus_ | " | 6 | 25 | 31 | 2 | 4 | 6 | ---------------------------------------------------------------------- [In only one case was the Trafalgar total loss greater than the total loss of the same ship in an earlier fight; and in this case (the _Defiance_) the number of killed at Trafalgar was only about two-thirds of the number killed in the other action.] It is now necessary to investigate the statement that Nelson, hastily and without warning, changed his plan for fighting the battle. This investigation is much more difficult than that into the losses of the British fleet, because, whilst the latter can be settled by arithmetic, the former must proceed largely upon conjecture. How desirable it is to make the investigation of the statement mentioned will be manifest when we reflect on the curious fact that the very completeness of Nelson's success at Trafalgar checked, or, indeed, virtually destroyed, the study of tactics in the British Navy for more than three-quarters of a century. His action was so misunderstood, or, at any rate, so variously represented, that it generally passed for gospel in our service that Nelson's method consisted merely in rushing at his enemy as soon as he saw him. Against this conception his biographers, one after another, have protested in vain. At the outset of this investigation it will be well to call to mind two or three things, simple enough, but not always remembered. One of these is that advancing to the attack and the attack itself are not the same operations. Another is, that, in the order of sailing in two or more columns, if the ships were 'by the wind' or close-hauled--the column-leaders were not abeam of each other, but bore from one another in the direction of the wind. Also, it may be mentioned that by simple alterations of course a line-abreast may be converted into a line-of-bearing and a line-of-bearing into a line-ahead, and that the reverse can be effected by the same operation. Again, adherence to a plan which presupposes the enemy's fleet to be in a particular formation after he is found to be in another is not to be expected of a consummate tactician. This remark is introduced here with full knowledge of the probability that it will be quoted as an admission that Nelson did change his plan without warning. No admission of the kind is intended. 'In all cases of anticipated battle,' says Mahan, 'Nelson was careful to put his subordinates in possession both of his general plans and, as far as possible, of the underlying ideas.' The same biographer tells us, what is well worth remembering, that 'No man was ever better served than Nelson by the inspiration of the moment; no man ever counted on it less.' The plan announced in the celebrated memorandum of 9th October 1805 indicated, for the attack from to windward, that the British fleet, in what would be called on shore an echelon of two main divisions and an 'advance squadron,' would move against an enemy assumed to be in single line-ahead. The 'advance squadron,' it should be noted, was not to be ahead of the two main divisions, but in such a position that it could be moved to strengthen either. The name seems to have been due to the mode in which the ships composing the squadron were employed in, so to speak, 'feeling for' the enemy. On 19th October six ships were ordered 'to go ahead during the night'; and, besides the frigates, two more ships were so stationed as to keep up the communication between the six and the commander-in-chief's flag-ship. Thus eight ships in effect composed an 'advance squadron,' and did not join either of the main divisions at first. When it was expected that the British fleet would comprise forty sail-of-the-line and the enemy's fleet forty-six, each British main division was to be made up of sixteen ships; and eight two-deckers added to either division would increase the strength of the latter to twenty-four ships. It is interesting to note that, omitting the _Africa_, which ship came up late, each British main division on the morning of 21st October 1805 had nine ships--a number which, by the addition of the eight already mentioned as distinct from the divisions, could have been increased to seventeen, thus, except for a fraction, exactly maintaining the original proportion as regards the hostile fleet, which was now found to be composed of thirty-three ships. During the night of 20th-21st October the Franco-Spanish fleet, which had been sailing in three divisions and a 'squadron of observation,' formed line and stood to the southward, heading a little to the eastward of south. The 'squadron of observation' was parallel to the main body and to windward (in this case to the westward) of it, with the leading ships rather more advanced. The British main divisions steered WSW. till 1 A.M. After that they steered SW. till 4 A.M. There are great difficulties about the time, as the notation of it[86] differed considerably in different ships; but the above hours are taken from the _Victory's_ log. At 4 A.M. the British fleet, or rather its main divisions, wore and stood N. by E. As the wind was about NW. by W., the ships were close-hauled, and the leader of the 'lee-line,' i.e. Collingwood's flag-ship, was when in station two points abaft the _Victory's_ beam as soon as the 'order of sailing' in two columns--which was to be the order of battle--had been formed. [Footnote 86: Except the chronometers, which were instruments of navigation so precious as always to be kept under lock and key, there were no clocks in the navy till some years after I joined it. Time on board ship was kept by half-hour sand-glasses.] About 6 A.M. the enemy's fleet was sighted from the _Victory_, and observed to bear from her E. by S. and be distant from her ten or twelve miles. The distance is corroborated by observed bearings from Collingwood's flag-ship.[87] Viewed from the British ships, placed as they were relatively to it, the enemy's fleet must have appeared as a long single line-ahead, perhaps not very exactly formed. As soon as the hostile force was clearly made out, the British divisions bore up and stood to the eastward, steering by the _Victory's_ compass ENE. The position and formation of the British main divisions were by this made exactly those in which they are shown in the diagram usually attached to the celebrated memorandum of 9th October 1805. The enemy must have appeared to the British, who were ten or twelve miles to windward of him, and on his beam, as if he were formed in line-ahead. He therefore was also in the position and formation assigned to him in that diagram. [Footnote 87: It would necessitate the use of some technicalities to explain it fully; but it may be said that the bearings of the extremes of the enemy's line observed from his flag-ship prove that Collingwood was in the station that he ought to have occupied when the British fleet was in the Order of Sailing and close to the wind.] At a time which, because of the variety in the notations of it, it is difficult to fix exactly, but somewhere between 7 and 8 A.M., the enemy's ships wore together and endeavoured to form a line to the northward, which, owing to the direction of the wind, must have been about N. by E. and S. by W., or NNE. and SSW. The operation--not merely of wearing, but of both wearing and reforming the line, such as it was--took more than an hour to complete. The wind was light; there was a westerly swell; the ships were under easy sail; consequently there must have been a good deal of leeway, and the hostile or 'combined' fleet headed in the direction of Cadiz, towards which, we are expressly told by a high French authority--Chevalier--it advanced. Nelson had to direct the course of his fleet so that its divisions, when about to make the actual attack, would be just opposite the points to which the respective hostile ships had advanced in the meantime. In a light wind varying in force a direct course to those points could not be settled once for all; but that first chosen was very nearly right, and an alteration of a point, viz. to E. by N., was for a considerable time all that was necessary. Collingwood later made a signal to his division to alter course one point to port, which brought them back to the earlier course, which by the _Victory's_ compass had been ENE. The eight ships of what has been referred to as the 'advance squadron' were distributed between the two main British divisions, six being assigned to Collingwood's and two to Nelson's. They did not all join their divisions at the same time, some--probably owing to the distance at which they had been employed from the rest of the fleet and the feebleness of the breeze--not till several hours after the combined fleet had been sighted. Collingwood preserved in his division a line-of-bearing apparently until the very moment when the individual ships pushed on to make the actual attack. The enemy's fleet is usually represented as forming a curve. It would probably be more correct to call it a very obtuse re-entering angle. This must have been largely due to Gravina's 'squadron of observation' keeping away in succession, to get into the wake of the rest of the line, which was forming towards the north. About the centre of the combined fleet there was a gap of a mile. Ahead and astern of this the ships were not all in each other's wake. Many were to leeward of their stations, thus giving the enemy's formation the appearance of a double line, or rather of a string of groups of ships. It is important to remember this, because no possible mode of attack--the enemy's fleet being formed as it was--could have prevented some British ships from being 'doubled on' when they cut into the enemy's force. On 'The First of June,' notwithstanding that the advance to the attack was intended to be in line-abreast, several British ships were 'doubled on,' and even 'trebled on,' as will be seen in the experiences on that day of the _Brunswick_, _Marlborough_, _Royal_Sovereign_, and _Queen_Charlotte_ herself. Owing to the shape of the hostile 'line' at Trafalgar and the formation in which he kept his division, Collingwood brought his ships, up till the very moment when each proceeded to deliver her attack, in the formation laid down in the oft-quoted memorandum. By the terms of that document Nelson had specifically assigned to his own division the work of seeing that the movements of Collingwood's division should be interrupted as little as possible. It would, of course, have been beyond his power to do this if the position of his own division in the echelon formation prescribed in the memorandum had been rigorously adhered to after Collingwood was getting near his objective point. In execution, therefore, of the service allotted to his division, Nelson made a feint at the enemy's van. This necessitated an alteration of course to port, so that his ships came into a 'line-of-bearing' so very oblique that it may well have been loosely called a 'line-ahead.' Sir Charles Ekins says that the two British lines '_afterwards_ fell into line-ahead, the ships in the wake of each other,' and that this was in obedience to signal. Collingwood's line certainly did not fall into line-ahead. At the most it was a rather oblique line-of-bearing almost parallel to that part of the enemy's fleet which he was about to attack. In Nelson's line there was more than one alteration of course, as the _Victory's_ log expressly states that she kept standing for the enemy's van, which we learn from the French accounts was moving about N. by E. or NNE. In the light wind prevailing the alterations of course must have rendered it, towards the end of the forenoon, impossible to keep exact station, even if the _Victory_ were to shorten sail, which we know she did not. As Admiral Colomb pointed out, 'Several later signals are recorded which were proper to make in lines-of-bearing, but not in lines-ahead.' It is difficult to import into this fact any other meaning but that of intention to preserve, however obliquely, the line-of-bearing which undoubtedly had been formed by the act of bearing-up as soon as the enemy's fleet had been distinguished. When Collingwood had moved near enough to the enemy to let his ships deliver their attacks, it became unnecessary for Nelson's division to provide against the other's being interrupted. Accordingly, he headed for the point at which he meant to cut into the enemy's fleet. Now came the moment, as regards his division, for doing what Collingwood's had already begun to do, viz. engage in a 'pell-mell battle,'[88] which surely may be interpreted as meaning a battle in which rigorous station-keeping was no longer expected, and in which 'no captain could do very wrong if he placed his ship alongside that of the enemy.' [Footnote 88: Nelson's own expression.] In several diagrams of the battle as supposed to have been fought the two British divisions just before the moment of impact are represented as converging towards each other. The Spanish diagram, lately reproduced by Mr. Newbolt, shows this, as well as the English diagrams. We may take it, therefore, that there was towards the end of the forenoon a convergence of the two columns, and that this was due to Nelson's return from his feint at the hostile van to the line from which he intended to let go his ships to deliver the actual attack. Collingwood's small alteration of course of one point to port slightly, but only slightly, accentuated this convergence. Enough has been said here of Nelson's tactics at Trafalgar. To discuss them fully would lead me too far for this occasion. I can only express the hope that in the navy the subject will receive fuller consideration hereafter. Nelson's last victory was gained, be it remembered, in one afternoon, over a fleet more than 20 per cent. his superior in numbers, and was so decisive that more than half of the hostile ships were taken. This was the crowning effort of seven years spent in virtually independent command in time of war--seven years, too, illustrated by more than one great victory. The more closely we look into Nelson's tactical achievements, the more effective and brilliant do they appear. It is the same with his character and disposition. The more exact researches and investigations of recent times have removed from his name the obloquy which it pleased some to cast upon it. We can see now that his 'childlike, delighted vanity'--to use the phrase of his greatest biographer--was but a thin incrustation on noble qualities. As in the material world valueless earthy substances surround a vein of precious metal, so through Nelson's moral nature there ran an opulent lode of character, unimpaired in its priceless worth by adjacent frailties which, in the majority of mankind, are present without any precious stuff beneath them. It is with minds prepared to see this that we should commemorate our great admiral. Veneration of Nelson's memory cannot be confined to particular objects or be limited by locality. His tomb is wider than the space covered by dome or column, and his real monument is more durable than any material construction. It is the unwritten and spiritual memorial of him, firmly fixed in the hearts of his fellow-countrymen. X THE SHARE OF THE FLEET IN THE DEFENCE OF THE EMPIRE[89] [Footnote 89: Written in 1907. (_Naval_Annual_, 1908.)] At the close of the Great War, which ended in the downfall of Napoleon, the maritime position of the British Empire was not only predominant--it also was, and long remained, beyond the reach of challenge. After the stupendous events of the great contest such successes as those at Algiers where we were helped by the Dutch, at Navarino where we had two allies, and at Acre were regarded as matters of course, and no very grave issue hung upon any one of them. For more than half a century after Nelson's death all the most brilliant achievements of British arms were performed on shore, in India or in the Crimea. There were also many small wars on land, and it may well have seemed to contemporaries that the days of great naval contests were over and that force of circumstances was converting us into a military from a naval nation. The belief in the efficacy of naval defence was not extinct, but it had ceased to operate actively. Even whilst the necessity of that form of defence was far more urgent, inattention to or ignorance of its true principles had occasionally allowed it to grow weak, but the possibility of substituting something else for it had not been pressed or even suggested. To this, however, we had now come; and it was largely a consequence of the Crimean war. In that war the British Army had nobly sustained its reputation as a fighting machine. For the first time after a long interval it had met in battle European troops, and had come out of the conflict more renowned for bravery than ever. Nothing seemed able to damp its heroism--not scantiness of food, not lack of clothing amidst bitter cold, not miserable quarters, not superior forces of a valiant enemy. It clung to its squalid abodes in the positions which it was ordered to hold with a tenacious fortitude that had never been surpassed in its glorious history, and that defied all assaults. In combination with its brave allies it brought to a triumphant conclusion a war of an altogether peculiar character. The campaign in the Crimea was in reality the siege of a single fortress. All the movements of the Western invaders were undertaken to bring them within striking distance of the place, to keep them within reach of it, or to capture it. Every battle that occurred was fought with one of those objects. When the place fell the war ended. The one general who, in the opinion of all concerned, gained high distinction in the war was the general who had prolonged the defence of Sebastopol by the skilful use of earthworks. It was no wonder that the attack and defence of fortified places assumed large importance in the eyes of the British people. The command of the sea held by the allied powers was so complete and all-pervading that no one stopped to think what the course of hostilities would have been without it, any more than men stop to think what the course of any particular business would be if there were no atmosphere to breathe in. Not a single allied soldier had been delayed on passage by the hostile fleet; not a single merchant vessel belonging to the allies had been captured by a hostile cruiser. Supplies and reinforcements for the besieging armies were transported to them without escort and with as little risk of interruption as if the operations had been those of profound peace. No sooner was the Crimean war over than another struggle took place, viz. the war of the Indian Mutiny, and that also was waged entirely on land. Here again the command of the sea was so complete that no interruption of it, even temporary, called attention to its existence. Troops and supplies were sent to India from the United Kingdom and from Hong-Kong; horses for military purposes from Australia and South Africa; and in every case without a thought of naval escort. The experience of hostilities in India seemed to confirm the experience of the Crimea. What we had just done to a great European nation was assumed to be what unfriendly European nations would wish to do and would be able to do to us. It was also assumed that the only way of frustrating their designs would be to do what had recently been done in the hope of frustrating ours, but to do it better. We must--it was said--depend on fortifications, but more perfect than those which had failed to save Sebastopol. The protection to be afforded by our fleet was deliberately declared to be insufficient. It might, so it was held, be absent altogether, and then there would be nothing but fortifications to stand between us and the progress of an active enemy. In the result the policy of constructing imposing passive defence-works on our coast was adopted. The fortifications had to be multiplied. Dependence on that class of defence inevitably leads to discovery after discovery that some spot open to the kind of attack feared has not been made secure. We began by fortifying the great dockyard ports--on the sea side against a hostile fleet, on the land side against hostile troops. Then it was perceived that to fortify the dockyard ports in the mother country afforded very little protection to the outlying portions of the empire. So their principal ports also were given defence-works--sometimes of an elaborate character. Again, it was found that commercial ports had been left out and that they too must be fortified. When this was done spots were observed at which an enemy might effect a landing in force, to prevent which further forts or batteries must be erected. The most striking thing in all this is the complete omission to take note of the conditions involved in the command of the sea. Evidently it had not been understood that it was that very command which alone had enabled the armies of western Europe to proceed, not only without serious interruption, but also without encountering an attempt at obstruction, to the field in the Crimea on which their victories had been won, and that the same command would be necessary before any hostile expedition, large enough to justify the construction of the fortifications specially intended to repel it, could cross the sea and get within striking distance of our shores. It should be deeply interesting to the people of those parts of the British Empire which lie beyond sea to note that the defensive system comprised in the fortification of the coast of the United Kingdom promised no security to them in the event of war. Making all proper allowance for the superior urgency of defending the heart of the empire, we must still admit that no system of defence is adequate which does not provide for the defence of other valuable parts of the great body politic as well. Again, the system of defence proved to be imperfect. Every part of the empire depended for prosperity--some parts depended for existence--on practically unrestricted traffic on the ocean. This, which might be assailed at many points and on lines often thousands of miles in length, could find little or no defence in immovable fortifications. It could not be held that the existence of these released the fleet from all duty but that of protecting our ocean commerce, because, if any enemy's navy was able to carry out an operation of such magnitude and difficulty as a serious attack on our home territory, it would assuredly be able to carry out the work of damaging our maritime trade. Power to do the latter has always belonged to the navy which was in a position to extend its activity persistently to the immediate neighbourhood of its opponent's coast-line. It is not to be supposed that there was no one to point this out. Several persons did so, but being mostly sailors they were not listened to. In actual practice the whole domain of imperial strategy was withdrawn from the intervention of the naval officer, as though it were something with which he could not have anything to do. Several great wars had been waged in Europe in the meantime, and all of them were land wars. Naval forces, if employed at all, were employed only just enough to bring out how insignificant their participation in them was. As was to have been expected, the habit of attaching importance to the naval element of imperial defence declined. The empire, nevertheless, continued to grow. Its territory was extended; its population, notably its population of European stock, increased, and its wealth and the subsequent operations of exchanging its productions for those of other countries were enormously expanded. At the same time the navy, to the strength and efficiency of which it had to look for security, declined absolutely, and still more relatively. Other navies were advancing: some had, as it were, come into existence. At last the true conditions were discerned, and the nation, almost with one voice, demanded that the naval defences of the empire should be put upon a proper footing. Let no one dismiss the foregoing retrospect as merely ancient history. On the contrary, let all those who desire to see the British Empire follow the path of its natural development in tranquillity study the recent past. By doing this we shall be able to estimate aright the position of the fleet in the defence of the empire. We must examine the circumstances in which we are placed. For five-and-thirty years the nations of the world have practically lived under the rule of force. The incessant object of every great state has been to increase the strength of its armed forces up to the point at which the cost becomes intolerable. Countries separated from one another only by arbitrary geographical lines add regiment to regiment and gun to gun, and also devise continually fresh expedients for accelerating the work of preparing their armies to take the field. The most pacifically inclined nation must do in this respect as its neighbours do, on pain of losing its independence and being mutilated in its territory if it does not. This rivalry has spread to the sea, and fleets are increased at a rate and at a cost in money unknown to former times, even to those of war. The possession of a powerful navy by some state which has no reason to apprehend over-sea invasion and which has no maritime interests, however intrinsically important they may be, commensurate with the strength of its fleets, may not indicate a spirit of aggression; but it at least indicates ability to become an aggressor. Consequently, for the British fleet to fill its proper position in the defence of the empire it must be strong. To be strong more than large numbers will be required. It must have the right, that is the best, material, the best organisation, the best discipline, the best training, the best distribution. We shall ascertain the position that it should hold, if we examine what it would have to do when called upon for work more active than that of peace time. With the exception of India and Canada no part of the empire is liable to serious attack that does not come over-sea. Any support that can be given to India or Canada by other parts of the empire must be conveyed across the sea also. This at once indicates the importance of ocean lines of communication. War is the method adopted, when less violent means of persuasion have failed, to force your enemy to comply with your demands. There are three principal ways of effecting this--invasion of his country, raids on his territory, destruction or serious damage of his sea-borne commerce. Successful invasion must compel the invaded to come to terms, or his national existence will be lost. Raids upon his territory may possibly so distress him that he would rather concede your terms than continue the struggle.[90] Damage to his sea-borne commerce may be carried so far that he will be ruined if he does not give in. So much for one side of the account; we have to examine the other. Against invasion, raids, or attempts at commerce-destruction there must be some form of defence, and, as a matter of historical fact, defence against each has been repeatedly successful. If we need instances we have only to peruse the history of the British Empire. [Footnote 90: Though raids rarely, if ever, decide a war, they may cause inconvenience or local distress, and an enemy desiring to make them should be obstructed as much as possible.] How was it that--whilst we landed invading armies in many hostile countries, seized many portions of hostile territory, and drove more than one enemy's commerce from the sea--our own country has been free from successful invasion for more than eight centuries, few portions of our territory have been taken from us even temporarily, and our commerce has increased throughout protracted maritime wars? To this there can only be one answer, viz. that the arrangements for defence were effectual. What, then, were these arrangements? They were comprised in the provision of a powerful, well-distributed, well-handled navy, and of a mobile army of suitable strength. It is to be observed that each element possessed the characteristic of mobility. We have to deal here more especially with the naval element, and we must study the manner in which it operates. Naval war is sea-power in action; and sea-power, taken in the narrow sense, has limitations. It may not, even when so taken, cease to act at the enemy's coast-line, but its direct influence extends only to the inner side of a narrow zone conforming to that line. In a maritime contest each side tries to control the ocean communications and to prevent the other from controlling them. If either gains the control, something in addition to sea-power strictly defined may begin to operate: the other side's territory may be invaded or harassed by considerable raids, and its commerce may be driven from the sea. It will be noticed that control of ocean communications is the needful preliminary to these. It is merely a variant of the often employed expression of the necessity, in war, of obtaining command of the sea. In the case of the most important portion of the British Empire, viz. the United Kingdom, our loss of control of the ocean communications would have a result which scarcely any foreign country would experience. Other countries are dependent on importations for some part of the food of their population and of the raw material of their industry; but much of the importation is, and perhaps all of it may be, effected by land. Here, we depend upon imports from abroad for a very large part of the food of our people, and of the raw material essential to the manufacture of the commodities by the exchange of which we obtain necessary supplies; and the whole of these imports come, and must come to us, by sea. Also, if we had not freedom of exportation, our wealth and the means of supporting a war would disappear. Probably all the greater colonies and India could feed their inhabitants for a moderately long time without sea-borne imports, but unless the sea were open to them their prosperity would decline. This teaches us the necessity to the British Empire of controlling our maritime communications, and equally teaches those who may one day be our enemies the advisability of preventing us from doing so. The lesson in either case is driven farther home by other considerations connected with communications. In war a belligerent has two tasks before him. He has to defend himself and hurt his enemy. The more he hurts his enemy, the less is he likely to be hurt himself. This defines the great principle of offensive defence. To act in accordance with this principle, a belligerent should try, as the saying goes, to carry the war into the enemy's country. He should try to make his opponents fight where he wants them to fight, which will probably be as far as possible from his own territory and as near as possible to theirs. Unless he can do this, invasion and even serious raids by him will be out of the question. More than that, his inability to do it will virtually indicate that on its part the other side can fix the scene of active hostilities unpleasantly close to the points from which he desires to keep its forces away. A line of ocean communications may be vulnerable throughout its length; but it does not follow that an assailant can operate against it with equal facility at every point, nor does it follow that it is at every point equally worth assailing. Lines running past hostile naval ports are especially open to assault in the part near the ports; and lines formed by the confluence of two or more other lines--like, for example, those which enter the English Channel--will generally include a greater abundance of valuable traffic than others. Consequently there are some parts at which an enemy may be expected to be more active than elsewhere, and it is from those very parts that it is most desirable to exclude him. They are, as a rule, relatively near to the territory of the state whose navy has to keep the lines open, that is to say, prevent their being persistently beset by an enemy. The necessary convergence of lines towards that state's ports shows that some portion of them would have to be traversed, or their traversing be attempted, by expeditions meant to carry out either invasion or raids. If, therefore, the enemy can be excluded as above mentioned, invasions, raids, and the more serious molestation of sea-borne commerce by him will be prevented. If we consider particular cases we shall find proof upon proof of the validity of the rule. Three great lines--one from the neighbourhood of the Cape of Good Hope, one from the Red Sea, and a third from India and Ceylon--converge near the south-western part of Australia and run as one line towards the territory of the important states farther east. If an assailant can be excluded from the latter or combined line he must either divide his force or operate on only one of the confluents, leaving the rest free. The farther he can be pushed back from the point of confluence the more effectually will he be limited to a single line, because the combining lines, traced backwards, trend more and more apart, and it is, therefore, more and more difficult for him to keep detachments of his force within supporting distance of each other if they continue to act against two or more lines. The particular case of the approaches to the territory of the United Kingdom has the same features, and proves the rule with equal clearness. This latter case is so often adduced without mention of others, that there is some risk of its being believed to be a solitary one. It stands, however, exactly on all fours with all the rest as regards the principle of the rule. A necessary consequence of an enemy's exclusion from the combined line as it approaches the territory to be defended is--as already suggested--that invasion of that territory and serious raids upon it will be rendered impracticable. Indeed, if the exclusion be absolutely complete and permanent, raids of every kind and depredations on commerce in the neighbourhood will be prevented altogether. It should be explained that though lines and communications are spoken of, it is the area crossed by them which is strategically important. A naval force, either guarding or intending to assail a line, does not necessarily station itself permanently upon it. All that it has to do is to remain, for the proper length of time, within the strategic area across which the defended or threatened line runs. The strategic area will be of varying extent, its boundaries being determined by circumstances. The object of the defence will be to make the area from which the enemy's ships are excluded as extensive as possible. When the enemy has been pushed back into his own waters and into his own ports the exclusion is strategically complete. The sea is denied to his invading and important raiding expeditions, and indeed to most of his individual cruisers. At the same time it is free to the other belligerent. To effect this a vigorous offensive will be necessary. The immediate theatre of operations, the critical strategic area, need not be, and often ought not to be, near the territory defended by our navy. It is necessary to dwell upon this, because no principle of naval warfare has been more frequently or more seriously misapprehended. Misapprehension of it has led to mischievous and dangerous distribution of naval force and to the squandering of immense sums of money on local defence vessels; that is, vessels only capable of operating in the very waters from which every effort should be made to exclude the enemy. Failure to exclude him from them can only be regarded as, at the very least, yielding to him an important point in the great game of war. If we succeed in keeping him away, the local defence craft of every class are useless, and the money spent on them has been worse than wasted, because, if it had not been so spent, it might have been devoted to strengthening the kind of force which must be used to keep the enemy where he ought to be kept, viz. at a distance from our own waters. The demand that ships be so stationed that they will generally, and except when actually cruising, be within sight of the inhabitants, is common enough in the mother country, and perhaps even more common in the over-sea parts of the British Empire. Nothing justifies it but the honest ignorance of those who make it; nothing explains compliance with it but the deplorable weakness of authorities who yield to it. It was not by hanging about the coast of England, when there was no enemy near it, with his fleet, that Hawke or Nelson saved the country from invasion, nor was it by remaining where they could be seen by the fellow-countrymen of their crews that the French and English fleets shut up their enemy in the Baltic and Black Sea, and thus gained and kept undisputed command of the sea which enabled them, without interruption, to invade their enemy's territory. The condition insisted upon by the Australasian Governments in the agreement formerly made with the Home Government, that a certain number of ships, in return for an annual contribution of money, should always remain in Australasian waters, was in reality greatly against the interests of that part of the empire. The Australasian taxpayer was, in fact, made to insist upon being injured in return for his money. The proceeding would have been exactly paralleled by a householder who might insist that a fire-engine, maintained out of rates to which he contributes, should always be kept within a few feet of his front door, and not be allowed to proceed to the end of the street to extinguish a fire threatening to extend eventually to the householder's own dwelling. When still further localised naval defence--localised defence, that is, of what may be called the smaller description--is considered, the danger involved in adopting it will be quite as apparent, and the waste of money will be more obvious. Localised defence is a near relation of passive defence. It owes its origin to the same sentiment, viz. a belief in the efficacy of staying where you are instead of carrying the war into the enemy's country. There may be cases in which no other kind of naval defence is practicable. The immense costliness of modern navies puts it out of the power of smaller states to maintain considerable sea-going fleets. The historic maritime countries--Sweden, Denmark, the Netherlands, and Portugal, the performances of whose seamen are so justly celebrated--could not now send to sea a force equal in number and fighting efficiency to a quarter of the force possessed by anyone of the chief naval powers. The countries named, when determined not to expose themselves unarmed to an assailant, can provide themselves only with a kind of defence which, whatever its detailed composition, must be of an intrinsically localised character. In their case there is nothing else to be done; and in their case defence of the character specified would be likely to prove more efficacious than it could be expected to be elsewhere. War is usually made in pursuit of an object valuable enough to justify the risks inseparable from the attempt to gain it. Aggression by any of the countries that have been mentioned is too improbable to call for serious apprehension. Aggression against them is far more likely. What they have to do is to make the danger of attacking them so great that it will equal or outweigh any advantage that could be gained by conquering them. Their wealth and resources, compared with those of great aggressive states, are not large enough to make up for much loss in war on the part of the latter engaging in attempts to seize them. Therefore, what the small maritime countries have to do is to make the form of naval defence to which they are restricted efficacious enough to hurt an aggressor so much that the victory which he may feel certain of gaining will be quite barren. He will get no glory, even in these days of self-advertisement, from the conquest of such relatively weak antagonists; and the plunder will not suffice to repay him for the damage received in effecting it. The case of a member of the great body known as the British Empire is altogether different. Its conquest would probably be enormously valuable to a conqueror; its ruin immensely damaging to the body as a whole. Either would justify an enemy in running considerable risks, and would afford him practically sufficient compensation for considerable losses incurred. We may expect that, in war, any chance of accomplishing either purpose will not be neglected. Provision must, therefore, be made against the eventuality. Let us for the moment suppose that, like one of the smaller countries whose case has been adduced, we are restricted to localised defence. An enemy not so restricted would be able to get, without being molested, as near to our territory--whether in the mother country or elsewhere--as the outer edge of the comparatively narrow belt of water that our localised defences could have any hope of controlling effectively. We should have abandoned to him the whole of the ocean except a relatively minute strip of coast-waters. That would be equivalent to saying good-bye to the maritime commerce on which our wealth wholly, and our existence largely, depends. No thoughtful British subject would find this tolerable. Everyone would demand the institution of a different defence system. A change, therefore, to the more active system would be inevitable. It would begin with the introduction of a cruising force in addition to the localised force. The unvarying lesson of naval history would be that the cruising division should gain continuously on the localised. It is only in times of peace, when men have forgotten, or cannot be made to understand, what war is, that the opposite takes place. If it be hoped that a localised force will render coast-wise traffic safe from the enemy, a little knowledge of what has happened in war and a sufficiently close investigation of conditions will demonstrate how baseless the hope must be. Countries not yet thickly populated would be in much the same condition as the countries of western Europe a century ago, the similarity being due to the relative scarcity of good land communications. A part--probably not a very large part--of the articles required by the people dwelling on and near the coast in one section would be drawn from another similar section. These articles could be most conveniently and cheaply transported by water. If it were worth his while, an enemy disposing of an active cruising force strong enough to make its way into the neighbourhood of the coast waters concerned would interrupt the 'long-shore traffic' and defy the efforts of a localised force to prevent him. The history of the Great War at the end of the eighteenth century and the beginning of the nineteenth teems with instances of interruption by our navy of the enemy's coast-wise trade when his ocean trade had been destroyed. The history of the American War of 1812 supplies other instances. The localised defence could not attempt to drive off hostile cruisers remaining far from the shore and meaning to infest the great lines of maritime communication running towards it. If those cruisers are to be driven off at all it can be done only by cruising ships. Unless, therefore, we are to be content to leave our ocean routes, where most crowded and therefore most vulnerable, to the mercy of an enemy, we must have cruisers to meet the hostile cruisers. If we still adhere to our localised defence, we shall have two distinct kinds of force---one provided merely for local, and consequently restricted, action; the other able to act near the shore or far out at sea as circumstances may demand. If we go to the expense of providing both kinds, we shall have followed the example of the sage who cut a large hole in his study door for the cat and a small one for the kitten. Is local naval defence, then, of any use? Well, to tell the truth, not much; and only in rare and exceptional circumstances. Even in the case of the smaller maritime countries, to which reference has been made above, defence of the character in question would avail little if a powerful assailant were resolved to press home his attack. That is to say, if only absolute belligerent considerations were regarded. In war, however, qualifying considerations can never be left out of sight. As the great Napoleon observed, you can no more make war without incurring losses than you can make omelettes without breaking eggs. The strategist--and the tactician also, within his province--will always count the cost of a proposed operation, even where they are nearly certain of success. The occupation of a country, which would be of no great practical value to you when you got it, would be a poor return for the loss to which you would have been put in the process. That loss might, and probably would, leave you at a great disadvantage as regards enemies more nearly on an equality with yourself. It would, therefore, not be the improbability of breaking down the local naval defence of a minor maritime state, but the pressure of qualifying and only indirectly belligerent considerations, that would prevent its being attempted. In a struggle between two antagonists of the first rank, the circumstances would be different. Purely belligerent considerations would have fuller play. Mistakes will be made, of course, for war is full of mistakes; but it may be accepted that an attack on any position, however defended, is in itself proof that the assailant believed the result hoped for to be quite worth the cost of obtaining it. Consequently, in a struggle as assumed, every mode of defence would have to stand on its intrinsic merits, nearly or quite unaided by the influence of considerations more or less foreign to it. Every scrap of local defence would, in proportion to its amount, be a diminution of the offensive defence. Advocates of the former may be challenged to produce from naval history any instance of local naval defence succeeding against the assaults of an actively aggressive navy. In the late war between Japan and Russia the Russian local defence failed completely. In the last case, a class of vessel like that which had failed in local defence was used successfully, because offensively, by the Japanese. This and many another instance show that the right way to use the kind of craft so often allocated to local defence is to use them offensively. It is only thus that their adoption by a great maritime power like the British Empire can be justified. The origin and centre of our naval strength are to be looked for in the United Kingdom. The shores of the latter are near the shores of other great maritime powers. Its ports, especially those at which its fleets are equipped and would be likely to assemble on the imminence of war, are within reach of more than one foreign place from which small swift craft to be used offensively might be expected to issue. The method of frustrating the efforts of these craft giving most promise of success is to attack them as soon as possible after they issue from their own port. To the acceptance of this principle we owe the origin of the destroyer, devised to destroy hostile torpedo-boats before they could reach a position from which they would be able to discharge with effect their special weapon against our assembled ships. It is true that the destroyer has been gradually converted into a larger torpedo-boat. It is also true that when used as such in local defence, as at Port Arthur, her failure was complete; and just as true that she has never accomplished anything except when used offensively. When, therefore, a naval country's coast is so near the ports of another naval country that the latter would be able with swift small craft to attack the former's shipping, the provision of craft of a similar kind is likely to prove advantageous. War between great powers is a two-sided game, and what one side can do the other will at least be likely to attempt. Nothing supports the view that it is well--either above or beneath the surface of the water--to stand on the defensive and await attack. Everything points to the superiority of the plan of beating up the enemy's quarters and attacking him before he can get far from them on his way towards his objective. Consequently the only justification of expending money on the localised vessels of which we have been speaking, is the probability that an enemy would have some of his bases within reach of those vessels' efforts. Where this condition does not exist, the money expended is, from the belligerent point of view, thrown away. Here comes in the greatest foe of belligerent efficiency, viz. political expediency. In time of peace it is thought better to conciliate voters than to prepare to meet an enemy. If local defence is thought to be pleasing to an inexpert electorate, it is only too likely to be provided, no matter how ineffectual and how costly in reality it will turn out to be. Not only is the British Empire the first of naval powers, it is also the first of colonial powers. One attribute is closely connected with the other; neither, without the other, would be applicable. The magnitude of our colonial domain, and especially the imposing aspects of some of its greater components--the Dominion, the Commonwealth, South Africa, New Zealand--are apt to blind us to a feature of great strategical importance, and that is the abundance and excellence of the naval bases that stud our ocean lines of communication. In thinking of the great daughter states we are liable to forget these; yet our possession of them helps greatly to strengthen our naval position, because it facilitates our assuming a far-reaching offensive. By themselves, if not too numerous, they can afford valuable support to the naval operations that are likely to prove most beneficial to us. The fact that they are ours, and not an opponent's, also constitutes for us an advantage of importance. Of course, they have to be defended, or else they may fall into an opponent's hands. Have we here a case in which highly localised or even passive defences are desirable? No doubt we did act for a time as though we believed that the question could only be answered in the affirmative; but that was when we were under the influence of the feelings engendered by observation of the long series of land wars previously discussed. Perhaps we have not yet quite shaken off the effects of that influence; but we have at least got so far as to tolerate the statement of the other side of the question. It would be a great mistake to suppose that the places alluded to are meant to be ports of refuge for our ships. Though they were to serve that purpose occasionally in the case of isolated merchant vessels, it would be but an accident, and not the essence, of their existence. What they are meant for is to be utilised as positions where our men-of-war can make reasonably sure of finding supplies and the means of refit. This assurance will largely depend upon their power of resistance if attacked. Before we can decide how to impart that power to them we shall have to see the kind of attack against which they would have to be prepared. If they are on a continent, like, for example, Gibraltar, attack on them by a land force, however improbable, is physically possible. Against an attack of the kind a naval force could give little direct help. Most of our outlying naval bases are really or virtually insular, and are open to attack only by an expedition coming across the sea. An essential characteristic of a naval base is that it should be able to furnish supplies as wanted to the men-of-war needing to replenish their stocks. Some, and very often all, of these supplies are not of native production and must be brought to the base by sea. If the enemy can stop their conveyance to it, the place is useless as a base and the enemy is really in control of its communications. If he is in control of its communications he can send against it as great an expedition as he likes, and the place will be captured or completely neutralised. Similarly, if we control the communications, not only can supplies be conveyed to it, but also no hostile expedition will be allowed to reach it. Thus the primary defence of the outlying base is the active, sea-going fleet. Moderate local defence, chiefly of the human kind, in the shape of a garrison, will certainly be needed. Though the enemy has not been able to obtain control of the communications of the place, fitful raids on it will be possible; and the place should be fortified enough and garrisoned enough to hold out against the inconsiderable assaults comprised in these till our own ships can drive the enemy's away. Outlying naval bases, though but moderately fortified, that contain depots of stores, docks, and other conveniences, have the vice of all immobile establishments. When war does come, some of them almost certainly, and all of them possibly, may not be in the right place with regard to the critical area of operations. They cannot, however, be moved. It will be necessary to do what has been done over and over again in war, in the latest as well as in earlier wars, and that is, establish temporary bases in more convenient situations. Thus much, perhaps all, of the cost and trouble of establishing and maintaining the permanent bases will have been wasted. This inculcates the necessity of having not as many bases as can be found, but as few as it is possible to get on with. The control of ocean communications, or the command of the sea, being the end of naval warfare, and its acquisition being practicable only by the assumption of a vigorous offensive, it follows as a matter of course that we must have a strong and in all respects efficient mobile navy. This is the fundamental condition on which the continued existence of the British Empire depends. It is thoroughly well known to every foreign Government, friendly or unfriendly. The true objective in naval warfare is the enemy's navy. That must be destroyed or decisively defeated, or intimidated into remaining in its ports. Not one of these can be effected without a mobile, that is a sea-going, fleet. The British Empire may fall to pieces from causes as yet unknown or unsuspected: it cannot be kept together if it loses the power of gaining command of the sea. This is not a result of deliberate policy: it is inherent in the nature of the empire, scattered as its parts are throughout the world, with only the highway of the sea between them. Such is the position of the fleet in the defence of the empire: such are its duties towards it. Duties in the case are mutual, and some are owed to the fleet as well as by it. It is incumbent on every section of the empire, without neglecting its land forces, to lend zealous help in keeping the fleet efficient. It is not to be supposed that this can be done only by making pecuniary contributions to its maintenance. It is, indeed, very doubtful if any real good can be done by urging colonies to make them. It seems certain that the objections to this are greater than any benefit that it can confer. Badgering our fellow-subjects beyond sea for money payments towards the cost of the navy is undignified and impolitic. The greatest sum asked for by the most exacting postulant would not equal a twentieth part of the imperial naval expenditure, and would not save the taxpayer of the mother country a farthing in the pound of his income. No one has yet been able to establish the equity of a demand that would take something from the inhabitants of one colony and nothing from those of another. Adequate voluntary contribution is a different matter. There are other ways in which every trans-marine possession of the Crown can lend a hand towards perfecting the efficiency of the fleet--ways, too, which would leave each in complete and unmenaced control of its own money. Sea-power does not consist entirely of men-of-war. There must be docks, refitting establishments, magazines, and depots of stores. Ports, which men-of-war must visit at least occasionally in war for repair or replenishment of supplies, will have to be made secure against the assaults which it has been said that a hastily raiding enemy, notwithstanding our general control of the communications, might find a chance of making. Moderate fixed fortifications are all the passive defence that would be needed; but good and active troops must be available. If all these are not provided by the part of the empire in which the necessary naval bases lie, they will have to be provided by the mother country. If the former provides them the latter will be spared the expense of doing so, and spared expense with no loss of dignity, and with far less risk of friction and inconvenience than if her taxpayers' pockets had been nominally spared to the extent of a trifling and reluctantly paid money contribution. It has been pointed out on an earlier page that a country can be, and most probably will be, more effectually defended in a maritime war if its fleet operates at a distance from, rather than near, its shores. Every subject of our King should long to see this condition exist if ever the empire is involved in hostilities. It may be--for who can tell what war will bring?--that the people of some great trans-marine dependency will have to choose between allowing a campaign to be conducted in their country or forcing the enemy to tolerate it in his. If they choose the latter they must be prepared to furnish part at least of the mobile force that can give effect to their choice. That is to say, they must be prepared to back up our sea-power in its efforts to keep off the tide of war from the neighbourhood of their homes. History shows how rarely, during the struggle between European nations for predominance in North America, the more settled parts of our former American Colonies were the theatre of war: but then the colonists of those days, few comparatively as they were, sent strong contingents to the armies that went campaigning, in the territory of the various enemies. This was in every way better--the sequel proved how much better--than a money contribution begged or extorted would have been. Helping in the manner first suggested need not result in dissociating our fellow-subjects beyond the seas from participation in the work of the active sea-going fleet. It is now, and still would be, open to them as much as to any native or denizen of the mother country. The time has fully come when the people of the greater outlying parts of the empire should insist upon perfect equality of treatment with their home fellow-subjects in this matter. They should resent, as a now quite out-of-date and invidious distinction, any difference in qualification for entry, locality of service, or remuneration for any rank or rating. Self-respect and a dignified confidence in their own qualities, the excellence of which has been thoroughly tested, will prompt the King's colonial subjects to ask for nothing but equal chances in a force on which is laid so large a part of the duty of defending the empire. Why should they cut themselves off from the promising career that service in the Royal Navy opens to the capable, the zealous, and the honourable aspirant of every grade? Some of the highest posts in the navy are now, or lately have been, held by men who not only happened to be born in British Colonies, but who also belong to resident colonial families. Surely in this there is a strong moral cement for binding and keeping the empire together. It is unnecessary to expatiate on the contrast between the prospect of such a career and that which is all that a small local service could offer. It would soon be seen towards which the enterprising and the energetic would instinctively gravitate. In the defence of the British Empire the fleet holds a twofold position. To its general belligerent efficiency, its strength and activity, we must look if the plans of an enemy are to be brought to nought. It, and it only, can secure for us the control of the ocean communications, on the freedom of which from serious interruptions the prosperity--indeed, the existence--of a scattered body must depend. In time of peace it can be made a great consolidating force, fostering every sentiment of worthy local patriotism whilst obliterating all inclination to mischievous narrow particularism, and tending to perfect the unity which gives virtue to national grandeur and is the true secret of national independence and strength. XI NAVAL STRATEGY AND TACTICS AT THE TIME OF TRAFALGAR[91] [Footnote 91: Written in 1905. (Read at Institute of Naval Architects.)] The subject on which I have been invited to read a paper, and which is taken as the title of the latter, would require for anything like full discussion a much longer time than you can be expected to allot to it. To discuss it adequately, a volume of no diminutive size would be necessary. It may, however, be possible to indicate with the brevity appropriate to the occasion the main outlines of the subject, and to suggest for your consideration certain points which, over and above their historical interest, may furnish us with valuable guidance at the present day. In taking account of the conditions of the Trafalgar epoch we have to note two distinct but, of course, closely related matters. These are the strategic plan of the enemy and the strategic plan adopted to meet it by the British. The former of these was described in the House of Commons by William Pitt at the beginning of the war in words which may be used without change at the present time. On 16th May 1803 the war, which had been interrupted by the unstable Peace of Amiens, was definitely resumed. The struggle was now to be a war not so much between the United Kingdom and the French nation as between the United Kingdom and the great Napoleon, wielding more than the resources of France alone. Speaking a week after the declaration of war, Pitt said that any expectation of success which the enemy might have must be based on the supposition that he could break the spirit or weaken the determination of the country by harassing us with the perpetual apprehension of descents on our coasts; or else that our resources could be impaired and our credit undermined by the effects of an expensive and protracted war. More briefly stated, the hostile plan was to invade the United Kingdom, ruin our maritime trade, and expel us from our over-sea possessions, especially in the East, from which it was supposed our wealth was chiefly derived. The plan was comprehensive, but not easily concealed. What we had to do was to prevent the invasion of the United Kingdom and defend our trade and our outlying territories. As not one of the hostile objects could be attained except by making a maritime expedition of some kind, that is to say, by an expedition which had to cross more or less extensive areas of water, it necessarily followed that our most effective method of defence was the keeping open of our sea communications. It became necessary for us to make such arrangements that the maritime paths by which a hostile expedition could approach our home-coasts, or hostile cruisers molest our sea-borne trade, or hostile squadrons move to the attack of our trans-marine dependencies--that all these paths should be so defended by our navy that either the enemy would not venture to traverse them or, if he did, that he could be driven off. Short as it is, the time at my disposal permits me to give a few details. It was fully recognised that defence of the United Kingdom against invasion could not be secured by naval means alone. As in the times of Queen Elizabeth, so in those of George III, no seaman of reputation contended that a sufficient land force could be dispensed with. Our ablest seamen always held that small hostile expeditions could be prepared in secret and might be able to slip through the most complete lines of naval defence that we could hope to maintain. It was not discovered or alleged till the twentieth century that the crew of a dinghy could not land in this country in the face of the navy. Therefore an essential feature of our defensive strategy was the provision of land forces in such numbers that an invader would have no chance of succeeding except he came in strength so great that his preparations could not be concealed and his expedition could not cross the water unseen. As our mercantile marine was to be found in nearly every sea, though in greater accumulation in some areas than in others, its defence against the assaults of an enemy could only be ensured by the virtual ubiquity of our cruising force. This, of course, involved the necessity of employing a large number of cruisers, and of arranging the distribution of them in accordance with the relative amount and value of the traffic to be protected from molestation in different parts of the ocean. It may be mentioned here that the term 'cruiser,' at the time with which we are dealing, was not limited to frigates and smaller classes of vessels. It included also ships of the line, it being the old belief of the British Navy, justified by the experience of many campaigns and consecrated by the approval of our greatest admirals, that the value of a ship of war was directly proportionate to her capacity for cruising and keeping the sea. If the ocean paths used by our merchant ships--the trade routes or sea communications of the United Kingdom with friendly or neutral markets and areas of production--could be kept open by our navy, that is, made so secure that our trade could traverse them with so little risk of molestation that it could continue to be carried on, it resulted as a matter of course that no sustained attack could be made on our outlying territory. Where this was possible it was where we had failed to keep open the route or line of communications, in which case the particular trade following it was, at least temporarily, destroyed, and the territory to which the route led was either cut off or seized. Naturally, when this was perceived, efforts were made to re-open and keep open the endangered or interrupted communication line. Napoleon, notwithstanding his supereminent genius, made some extraordinary mistakes about warfare on the sea. The explanation of this has been given by a highly distinguished French admiral. The Great Emperor, he says, was wanting in exact appreciation of the difficulties of naval operations. He never understood that the naval officer--alone of all men in the world--must be master of two distinct professions. The naval officer must be as completely a seaman as an officer in any mercantile marine; and, in addition to this, he must be as accomplished in the use of the material of war entrusted to his charge as the members of any aimed force in the world. The Emperor's plan for the invasion of the United Kingdom was conceived on a grand scale. A great army, eventually 130,000 strong, was collected on the coast of north-eastern France, with its headquarters at Boulogne. The numerical strength of this army is worth attention. By far the larger part of it was to have made the first descent on our territory; the remainder was to be a reserve to follow as quickly as possible. It has been doubted if Napoleon really meant to invade this country, the suggestion being that his collection of an army on the shores of the Straits of Dover and the English Channel was merely a 'blind' to cover another intended movement. The overwhelming weight of authoritative opinion is in favour of the view that the project of invasion was real. It is highly significant that he considered so large a number of troops necessary. It could not have been governed by any estimate of the naval obstruction to be encountered during the sea passage of the expedition, but only by the amount of the land force likely to be met if the disembarkation on our shores could be effected. The numerical strength in troops which Napoleon thought necessary compelled him to make preparations on so great a scale that concealment became quite impossible. Consequently an important part of his plan was disclosed to us betimes, and the threatened locality indicated to us within comparatively narrow limits of precision. Notwithstanding his failure to appreciate all the difficulties of naval warfare, the Great Emperor had grasped one of its leading principles. Before the Peace of Amiens, indeed before his campaign in Egypt, and even his imposing triumphs in Italy, he had seen that the invasion of the United Kingdom was impracticable without first obtaining the command of the sea. His strategic plan, therefore, included arrangements to secure this. The details of the plan were changed from time to time as conditions altered; but the main object was adhered to until the final abandonment of the whole scheme under pressure of circumstances as embodied in Nelson and his victorious brothers-in-arms. The gunboats, transport boats, and other small craft, which to the number of many hundreds filled the ports of north-eastern France and the Netherlands, were not the only naval components of the expedition. Fleets of line-of-battle ships were essential parts of it, and on their effective action the success of the scheme was largely made to depend. This feature remained unaltered in principle when, less than twelve months before Trafalgar, Spain took part in the war as Napoleon's ally, and brought him a great reinforcement of ships and important assistance in money. We should not fail to notice that, before he considered himself strong enough to undertake the invasion of the United Kingdom, Napoleon found it necessary to have at his disposal the resources of other countries besides France, notwithstanding that by herself France had a population more than 60 per cent. greater than that of England. By the alliance with Spain he had added largely to the resources on which he could draw. Moreover, his strategic position was geographically much improved. With the exception of that of Portugal, the coast of western continental Europe, from the Texel to Leghorn, and somewhat later to Taranto also, was united in hostility to us. This complicated the strategic problem which the British Navy had to solve, as it increased the number of points to be watched; and it facilitated the junction of Napoleon's Mediterranean naval forces with those assembled in his Atlantic ports by supplying him with allied ports of refuge and refit on Spanish territory--such as Cartagena or Cadiz--between Toulon and the Bay of Biscay. Napoleon, therefore, enforced upon us by the most convincing of all arguments the necessity of maintaining the British Navy at the 'two-power standard' at least. The lesson had been taught us long before by Philip II, who did not venture on an attempt at invading this country till he was master of the resources of the whole Iberian peninsula as well as of those of the Spanish dominions in Italy, in the Burgundian heritage, and in the distant regions across the Atlantic Ocean. At several points on the long stretch of coast of which he was now the master, Napoleon equipped fleets that were to unite and win for him the command of the sea during a period long enough to permit the unobstructed passage of his invading army across the water which separated the starting points of his expedition from the United Kingdom. Command of the sea to be won by a powerful naval combination was thus an essential element in Napoleon's strategy at the time of Trafalgar. It was not in deciding what was essential that this soldier of stupendous ability erred: it was in choosing the method of gaining the essential that he went wrong. The British strategy adopted in opposition to that of Napoleon was based on the acquisition and preservation of the command of the sea. Formulated and carried into effect by seamen, it differed in some important features from his. We may leave out of sight for the moment the special arrangements made in the English Channel to oppose the movements of Napoleon's flotillas of gunboats, transport boats, and other small craft. The British strategy at the time of Trafalgar, as far as it was concerned with opposition to Napoleon's sea-going fleets, may be succinctly described as stationing off each of the ports in which the enemy's forces were lying a fleet or squadron of suitable strength. Though some of our admirals, notably Nelson himself, objected to the application of the term 'blockade' to their plans, the hostile ships were to this extent blockaded, that if they should come out they would find outside their port a British force sufficient to drive them in again, or even to defeat them thoroughly and destroy them. Beating them and thus having done with them, and not simply shutting them up in harbour, was what was desired by our admirals. This necessitated a close watch on the hostile ports; and how consistently that was maintained let the history of Cornwallis's command off Brest and of Nelson's off Toulon suffice to tell us. The junction of two or more of Napoleon's fleets would have ensured over almost any single British fleet a numerical superiority that would have rendered the defeat or retirement of the latter almost certain. To meet this condition the British strategy contemplated the falling back, if necessary, of one of our detachments on another, which might be carried further and junction with a third detachment be effected. By this step we should preserve, if not a numerical superiority over the enemy, at least so near an equality of force as to render his defeat probable and his serious maltreatment, even if undefeated, a certainty. The strategic problem before our navy was, however, not quite so easy as this might make it seem. The enemy's concentration might be attempted either towards Brest or towards Toulon. In the latter case, a superior force might fall upon our Mediterranean fleet before our watching ships in the Atlantic could discover the escape of the enemy's ships from the Atlantic port or could follow and come up with them. Against the probability of this was to be set the reluctance of Napoleon to carry out an eccentric operation which a concentration off Toulon would necessitate, when the essence of his scheme was to concentrate in a position from which he could obtain naval control of the English Channel. After the addition of the Spanish Navy to his own, Napoleon to some extent modified his strategic arrangements. The essential feature of the scheme remained unaltered. It was to effect the junction of the different parts of his naval force and thereupon to dominate the situation, by evading the several British fleets or detachments which were watching his. Before Spain joined him in the war his intention was that his escaping fleets should go out into the Atlantic, behind the backs, as it were, of the British ships, and then make for the English Channel. When he had the aid of Spain the point of junction was to be in the West Indies. The remarkable thing about this was the evident belief that the command of the sea might be won without fighting for it; won, too, from the British Navy which was ready, and indeed wished, to fight. We now see that Napoleon's naval strategy at the time of Trafalgar, whilst it aimed at gaining command of the sea, was based on what has been called evasion. The fundamental principle of the British naval strategy of that time was quite different. So far from thinking that the contest could be settled without one or more battles, the British admirals, though nominally blockading his ports, gave the enemy every facility for coming out in order that they might be able to bring him to action. Napoleon, on the contrary, declared that a battle would be useless, and distinctly ordered his officers not to fight one. Could it be that, when pitted against admirals whose accurate conception of the conditions of naval warfare had been over and over again tested during the hostilities ended by the Peace of Amiens, Napoleon still trusted to the efficacy of methods which had proved so successful when he was outmanoeuvring and intimidating the generals who opposed him in North Italy? We can only explain his attitude in the campaign of Trafalgar by attributing to him an expectation that the British seamen of his day, tried as they had been in the fire of many years of war, would succumb to his methods as readily as the military formalists of central Europe. Napoleon had at his disposal between seventy and eighty French, Dutch, and Spanish ships of the line, of which some sixty-seven were available at the beginning of the Trafalgar campaign. In January 1805, besides other ships of the class in distant waters or specially employed, we--on our side--had eighty ships of the line in commission. A knowledge of this will enable us to form some idea of the chances of success that would have attended Napoleon's concentration if it had been effected. To protect the passage of his invading expedition across the English Channel he did not depend only on concentrating his more distant fleets. In the Texel there were, besides smaller vessels, nine sail of the line. Thus the Emperor did what we may be sure any future intending invader will not fail to do, viz. he provided his expedition with a respectable naval escort. The British naval officers of the day, who knew what war was, made arrangements to deal with this escort. Lord Keith, who commanded in the Downs, had under him six sail of the line in addition to many frigates and sloops; and there were five more line-of-battle ships ready at Spithead if required. There had been a demand in the country that the defence of our shores against an invading expedition should be entrusted to gunboats, and what may be called coastal small craft and boats. This was resisted by the naval officers. Nelson had already said, 'Our first defence is close to the enemy's ports,' thus agreeing with a long line of eminent British seamen in their view of our strategy. Lord St. Vincent said that 'Our great reliance is on the vigilance and activity of our cruisers at sea, any reduction in the number of which by applying them to guard our ports, inlets, and beaches would, in my judgment, tend to our destruction.' These are memorable words, which we should do well to ponder in these days. The Government of the day insisted on having the coastal boats; but St. Vincent succeeded in postponing the preparation of them till the cruising ships had been manned. His plan of defence has been described by his biographer as 'a triple line of barricade; 50-gun ships, frigates, sloops of war, and gun-vessels upon the coast of the enemy; in the Downs opposite France another squadron, but of powerful ships of the line, continually disposable, to support the former or attack any force of the enemy which, it might be imagined possible, might slip through the squadron hanging over the coast; and a force on the beach on all the shores of the English ports, to render assurance doubly sure.' This last item was the one that St. Vincent had been compelled to adopt, and he was careful that it should be in addition to those measures of defence in the efficacy of which he and his brother seamen believed. Concerning it his biographer makes the following remark: 'It is to be noted that Lord St. Vincent did not contemplate repelling an invasion of gunboats by gunboats,' &c. He objected to the force of sea-fencibles, or long-shore organisation, because he considered it more useful to have the sea-going ships manned. Speaking of this coastal defence scheme, he said: 'It would be a good bone for the officers to pick, but a very dear one for the country.' The defence of our ocean trade entered largely into the strategy of the time. An important part was played by our fleets and groups of line-of-battle ships which gave usually indirect, but sometimes direct, protection to our own merchant vessels, and also to neutral vessels carrying commodities to or from British ports. The strategy of the time, the correctness of which was confirmed by long belligerent experience, rejected the employment of a restricted number of powerful cruisers, and relied upon the practical ubiquity of the defending ships, which ubiquity was rendered possible by the employment of very numerous craft of moderate size. This can be seen in the lists of successive years. In January 1803 the number of cruising frigates in commission was 107, and of sloops and smaller vessels 139, the total being 246. In 1804 the numbers were: Frigates, 108; sloops, &c., 181; with a total of 289. In 1805 the figures had grown to 129 frigates, 416 sloops, &c., the total being 545. Most of these were employed in defending commerce. We all know how completely Napoleon's project of invading the United Kingdom was frustrated. It is less well known that the measures for defending our sea-borne trade, indicated by the figures just given, were triumphantly successful. Our mercantile marine increased during the war, a sure proof that it had been effectually defended. Consequently we may accept it as established beyond the possibility of refutation that that branch of our naval strategy at the time of Trafalgar which was concerned with the defence of our trade was rightly conceived and properly carried into effect. As has been stated already, the defence of our sea-borne trade, being in practice the keeping open of our ocean lines of communication, carried with it the protection, in part at any rate, of our transmarine territories. Napoleon held pertinaciously to the belief that British prosperity was chiefly due to our position in India. We owe it to Captain Mahan that we now know that the eminent American Fulton--a name of interest to the members of this Institution--told Pitt of the belief held abroad that 'the fountains of British wealth are in India and China.' In the great scheme of naval concentration which the Emperor devised, seizure of British Colonies in the West Indies had a definite place. We kept in that quarter, and varied as necessary, a force capable of dealing with a naval raid as well as guarding the neighbouring lines of communication. In 1803 we had four ships of the line in the West Indian area. In 1804 we had six of the same class; and in 1805, while the line-of-battle ships were reduced to four, the number of frigates was increased from nine to twenty-five. Whether our Government divined Napoleon's designs on India or not, it took measures to protect our interests there. In January 1804 we had on the Cape of Good Hope and the East Indies stations, both together, six sail of the line, three smaller two-deckers, six frigates, and six sloops, or twenty-one ships of war in all. This would have been sufficient to repel a raiding attack made in some strength. By the beginning of 1805 our East Indies force had been increased; and in the year 1805 itself we raised it to a strength of forty-one ships in all, of which nine were of the line and seventeen were frigates. Had, therefore, any of the hostile ships managed to get to the East Indies from the Atlantic or the Mediterranean ports, in which they were being watched by our navy, their chances of succeeding in their object would have been small indeed. When we enter the domain of tactics strictly so-called, that is to say, when we discuss the proceedings of naval forces--whether single ships, squadrons, or fleets--in hostile contact with one another, we find the time of Trafalgar full of instructive episodes. Even with the most recent experience of naval warfare vividly present to our minds, we can still regard Nelson as the greatest of tacticians. Naval tactics may be roughly divided into two great classes or sections, viz. the tactics of groups of ships, that is to say, fleet actions; and the tactics of what the historian James calls 'single ship actions,' that is to say, fights between two individual ships. In the former the achievements of Nelson stand out with incomparable brilliancy. It would be impossible to describe his method fully in such a paper as this. We may, however, say that Nelson was an innovator, and that his tactical principles and methods have been generally misunderstood down to this very day. If ever there was an admiral who was opposed to an unthinking, headlong rush at an enemy, it was he. Yet this is the character that he still bears in the conception of many. He was, in truth, an industrious and patient student of tactics, having studied them, in what in these days we should call a scientific spirit, at an early period, when there was but little reason to expect that he would ever be in a position to put to a practical test the knowledge that he had acquired and the ideas that he had formed. He saw that the old battle formation in single line-ahead was insufficient if you wanted--as he himself always did--to gain an overwhelming victory. He also saw that, though an improvement on the old formation, Lord Howe's method of the single line-abreast was still a good deal short of tactical perfection. Therefore, he devised what he called, with pardonable elation, the 'Nelson touch,' the attack in successive lines so directed as to overwhelm one part of the enemy's fleet, whilst the other part was prevented from coming to the assistance of the first, and was in its turn overwhelmed or broken up. His object was to bring a larger number of his own ships against a smaller number of the enemy's. He would by this method destroy the part attacked, suffering in the process so little damage himself that with his whole force he would be able to deal effectively with the hostile remnant if it ventured to try conclusions with him. It is of the utmost importance that we should thoroughly understand Nelson's fundamental tactical principle, viz. the bringing of a larger number of ships to fight against a smaller number of the enemy's. There is not, I believe, in the whole of the records of Nelson's opinions and actions a single expression tending to show that tactical efficiency was considered by him to be due to superiority in size of individual ships of the same class or--as far as _matériel_ was concerned--to anything but superior numbers, of course at the critical point. He did not require, and did not have, more ships in his own fleet than the whole of those in the fleet of the enemy. What he wanted was to bring to the point of impact, when the fight began, a larger number of ships than were to be found in that part of the enemy's line. I believe that I am right in saying that, from the date of Salamis downwards, history records no decisive naval victory in which the victorious fleet has not succeeded in concentrating against a relatively weak point in its enemy's formation a greater number of its own ships. I know of nothing to show that this has not been the rule throughout the ages of which detailed history furnishes us with any memorial--no matter what the class of ship, what the type of weapon, what the mode of propulsion. The rule certainly prevailed in the battle of the 10th August 1904 off Port Arthur, though it was not so overwhelmingly decisive as some others. We may not even yet know enough of the sea fight in the Straits of Tsushima to be able to describe it in detail; but we do know that at least some of the Russian ships were defeated or destroyed by a combination of Japanese ships against them. Looking back at the tactics of the Trafalgar epoch, we may see that the history of them confirms the experience of earlier wars, viz. that victory does not necessarily fall to the side which has the biggest ships. It is a well-known fact of naval history that generally the French ships were larger and the Spanish much larger than the British ships of corresponding classes. This superiority in size certainly did not carry with it victory in action. On the other hand, British ships were generally bigger than the Dutch ships with which they fought; and it is of great significance that at Camperdown the victory was due, not to superiority in the size of individual ships, but, as shown by the different lists of killed and wounded, to the act of bringing a larger number against a smaller. All that we have been able to learn of the occurrences in the battle of the japan Sea supports instead of being opposed to this conclusion; and it may be said that there is nothing tending to upset it in the previous history of the present war in the Far East. I do not know how far I am justified in expatiating on this point; but, as it may help to bring the strategy and tactics of the Trafalgar epoch into practical relation with the stately science of which in our day this Institution is, as it were, the mother-shrine and metropolitical temple, I may be allowed to dwell upon it a little longer. The object aimed at by those who favour great size of individual ships is not, of course, magnitude alone. It is to turn out a ship which shall be more powerful than an individual antagonist. All recent development of man-of-war construction has taken the form of producing, or at any rate trying to produce, a more powerful ship than those of earlier date, or belonging to a rival navy. I know the issues that such statements are likely to raise; and I ask you, as naval architects, to bear with me patiently when I say what I am going to say. It is this: If you devise for the ship so produced the tactical system for which she is specially adapted you must, in order to be logical, base your system on her power of defeating her particular antagonist. Consequently, you must abandon the principle of concentration of superior numbers against your enemy; and, what is more, must be prepared to maintain that such concentration on his part against yourself would be ineffectual. This will compel a reversion to tactical methods which made a fleet action a series of duels between pairs of combatants, and--a thing to be pondered on seriously--never enabled anyone to win a decisive victory on the sea. The position will not be made more logical if you demand both superior size and also superior numbers, because if you adopt the tactical system appropriate to one of the things demanded, you will rule out the other. You cannot employ at the same time two different and opposed tactical systems. It is not necessary to the line of argument above indicated to ignore the merits of the battleship class. Like their predecessors, the ships of the line, it is really battleships which in a naval war dominate the situation. We saw that it was so at the time of Trafalgar, and we see that it has been so in the war between Russia and Japan, at all events throughout the 1904 campaign. The experience of naval war, down to the close of that in which Trafalgar was the most impressive event, led to the virtual abandonment of ships of the line[92] above and below a certain class. The 64-gun ships and smaller two-deckers had greatly diminished in number, and repetitions of them grew more and more rare. It was the same with the three-deckers, which, as the late Admiral Colomb pointed out, continued to be built, though in reduced numbers, not so much for their tactical efficiency as for the convenient manner in which they met the demands for the accommodation required in flag-ships. The tactical condition which the naval architects of the Trafalgar period had to meet was the employment of an increased number of two-deckers of the medium classes. [Footnote 92: Experience of war, as regards increase in the number of medium-sized men-of-war of the different classes, tended to the same result in both the French Revolutionary war (1793 to 1801) and the Napoleonic war which began in 1803. Taking both contests down to the end of the Trafalgar year, the following table will show how great was the development of the line-of-battle-ship class below the three-decker and above the 64-gun ship. It will also show that there was no development of, but a relative decline in, the three-deckers and the 64's, the small additions, where there were any, being generally due to captures from the enemy. The two-deckers not 'fit to lie in a line' were at the end of the Trafalgar year about half what they were when the first period of the 'Great War' began. When we come to the frigate classes we find the same result. In the earlier war 11 frigates of 44 and 40 guns were introduced into our navy. It is worth notice that this number was not increased, and by the end of the Trafalgar year had, on the contrary, declined to 10. The smallest frigates, of 28 guns, were 27 in 1793, and 13 at the end of the Trafalgar year. On the other hand, the increase in the medium frigate classes (38, 36, and 32 guns) was very large. From 1793 to the end of the Trafalgar year the 38-gun frigates increased from 8 to 50, and the 36-gun frigates from 16 to 54. ------------------------------------------------------------- | | | Napoleonic War to | | | French | the end of the | | | Revolutionary War | Trafalgar year | | Classes of Ships |-------------------|-------------------| | |Commence-|Commence-|Commence-|Commence-| | | ment of | ment of | ment of | ment of | | | 1793 | 1801 | 1803 | 1806 | |-------------------------------------------------------------| | 3-deckers | 31 | 32 | 29 | 29 | | 2-deckers of 74 | 76 | 111 | 105 | 123 | | guns, and above | | | | | | 64 and 60 gun ships | 46 | 47 | 38 | 38 | | 2-deckers not 'fit | 43 | 31 | 21 | 22 | | to lie in a line' | | | | | | Frigates 44 guns | 0 | 6 | 6 | 6 | | " 40 " | 0 | 5 | 5 | 4 | | " 38 " | 8 | 32 | 32 | 50 | | " 36 " | 16 | 49 | 49 | 54 | | " 32 " | 48 | 41 | 38 | 56 | | " 28 " | 27 | 11 | 11 | 13 | ------------------------------------------------------------- The liking for three-deckers, professed by some officers of Nelson's time, seems to have been due to a belief, not in the merit of their size as such, but in the value of the increased number of medium guns carried on a 'middle' deck. There is, I believe, nothing to show that the two-deckers _Gibraltar_ (2185 tons) and _Coesar_ (2003) were considered more formidable than the three-deckers _Balfleur_ (1947), _Glory_ (1944), or _Queen_ (1876). All these ships were in the same fleet, and fought in the same battle.] A fleet of ships of the line as long as it could keep the sea, that is, until it had to retreat into port before a stronger fleet, controlled a certain area of water. Within that area smaller men-of-war as well as friendly merchant ships were secure from attack. As the fleet moved about, so the area moved with it. Skilful disposition and manoeuvring added largely to the extent of sea within which the maritime interests that the fleet was meant to protect would be safe. It seems reasonable to expect that it will be the same with modern fleets of suitable battleships. The tactics of 'single ship actions' at the time of Trafalgar were based upon pure seamanship backed up by good gunnery. The better a captain handled his ship the more likely he was to beat his antagonist. Superior speed, where it existed, was used to 'gain the weather gage,' not in order to get a suitable range for the faster ship's guns, but to compel her enemy to fight. Superior speed was also used to run away, capacity to do which was not then, and ought not to be now, reckoned a merit in a ship expressly constructed for fighting, not fleeing. It is sometimes claimed in these days that superior speed will enable a modern ship to keep at a distance from her opponent which will be the best range for her own guns. It has not been explained why a range which best suits her guns should not be equally favourable for the guns of her opponent; unless, indeed, the latter is assumed to be weakly armed, in which case the distance at which the faster ship might engage her would be a matter of comparative indifference. There is nothing in the tactics of the time of Trafalgar to make it appear that--when a fight had once begun--superior speed, of course within moderate limits, conferred any considerable tactical advantage in 'single ship actions,' and still less in general or fleet actions. Taking up a position ahead or astern of a hostile ship so as to be able to rake her was not facilitated by originally superior speed so much as by the more damaged state of the ship to be raked--raking, as a rule, occurring rather late in an action. A remarkable result of long experience of war made itself clearly apparent in the era of Trafalgar. I have already alluded to the tendency to restrict the construction of line-of-battle ships to those of the medium classes. The same thing may be noticed in the case of the frigates.[93] Those of 44, 40, and 28 guns relatively or absolutely diminished in number; whilst the number of the 38-gun, 36-gun, and 32-gun frigates increased. The officers who had personal experience of many campaigns were able to impress on the naval architects of the day the necessity of recognising the sharp distinction that really exists between what we should now call the 'battleship' and what we should now call the 'cruiser.' In the earlier time there were ships which were intermediate between the ship of the line and the frigate. These were the two-deckers of 56, 54, 50, 44, and even 40 guns. They had long been regarded as not 'fit to lie in a line,' and they were never counted in the frigate classes. They seemed to have held a nondescript position, for no one knew exactly how to employ them in war any more than we now know exactly how to employ our armoured cruisers, as to which it is not settled whether they are fit for general actions or should be confined to commerce defending or other cruiser service. The two-deckers just mentioned were looked upon by the date of Trafalgar as forming an unnecessary class of fighting ships. Some were employed, chiefly because they existed, on special service; but they were being replaced by true battleships on one side and true frigates on the other.[94] [Footnote 93: See footnote 92.] [Footnote 94: See footnote 92.] In conclusion, I would venture to say that the strategical and tactical lessons taught by a long series of naval campaigns had been mastered by our navy by the time of the Trafalgar campaign. The effect of those lessons showed itself in our ship-building policy, and has been placed on permanent record in the history of maritime achievement and of the adaptation of material means to belligerent ends. XII THE SUPPLY AND COMMUNICATIONS OF A FLEET[95] [Footnote 95: Written in 1902. (Read at the Hong-Kong United Service Institution.)] A problem which is not an attractive one, but which has to be solved, is to arrange the proper method of supplying a fleet and maintaining its communications. In time of peace as well as in time of war there is a continuous consumption of the articles of various kinds used on board ship, viz. naval stores, ordnance stores, engineers' stores, victualling stores, coal, water, &c. If we know the quantity of each description of stores that a ship can carry, and if we estimate the progressive consumption, we can compute, approximately but accurately enough for practical purposes, the time at which replenishment would be necessary and to what amount it should be made up. As a general rule ships stow about three months' stores and provisions. The amount of coal and engineers' stores, measured in time, depends on the proceedings of the ship, and can only be calculated if we know during what portion of any given period she will be under way. Of course, this can be only roughly estimated. In peace time we know nearly exactly what the expenditure of ammunition within a given length of time--say, a quarter of a year--will be. For war conditions we can only form an estimate based upon assumptions. The consumption of provisions depends upon the numbers of officers and men, and in war or peace would be much the same. The greater activity to be expected in war would lead to more wear and tear, and consequently to a larger expenditure of naval stores. In peaceful times the quarterly expenditure of ammunition does not vary materially. In case we were at war, a single action might cause us to expend in a few hours as much as half a dozen quarterly peace allowances. There is a certain average number of days that a ship of a particular class is under way in a year, and the difference between that number and 365 is, of course, the measure of the length of time she is at anchor or in harbour. Expenditure of coal and of some important articles of engineers' stores depends on the relation between the time that she is stationary and the time she is under way. It should be particularly noted that the distinction is not between time at anchor and time at sea, but between time at anchor and 'time under way.' If a ship leaves her anchorage to run an engine-trial after refit, or to fire at a target, or to adjust compasses, or to go into dock--she burns more coal than if she remained stationary. These occasions of movement may be counted in with the days in which the ship is at sea, and the total taken as the number of days under way. It may be assumed that altogether these will amount to six or seven a month. In time of war the period under way would probably be much longer, and the time spent in expectation of getting under way in a hurry would almost certainly be considerable, so that expenditure of coal and machinery lubricants would be greatly increased. The point to be made here is that--independently of strategic conditions, which will be considered later--the difference in the supply of a given naval force in war and in peace is principally that in the former the requirements of nearly everything except provisions will be greater; and consequently that the articles must be forwarded in larger quantities or at shorter intervals than in peace time. If, therefore, we have arranged a satisfactory system of peace supply, that system--defence of the line of communications being left out of consideration for the present--will merely have to be expanded in time of war. In other words, practice in the use of the system during peace will go a long way towards preparing us for the duty of working it under war conditions. That a regular system will be absolutely indispensable during hostilities will not be doubted. The general principles which I propose to indicate are applicable to any station. We may allow for a squadron composed of-- 4 battleships, 4 large cruisers, 4 second-class cruisers, 13 smaller vessels of various kinds, and 3 destroyers, being away from the principal base-port of the station for several months of the year. The number of officers and men would be, in round numbers, about 10,000. In estimating the amounts of stores of different kinds required by men-of-war, it is necessary--in order to allow for proper means of conveyance--to convert tons of dead-weight into tons by measurement, as the two are not always exactly equivalent. In the following enumeration only estimated amounts are stated, and the figures are to be considered as approximate and not precise. It is likely that in each item an expert maybe able to discover some variation from the rigorously exact; but the general result will be sufficiently accurate for practical purposes, especially as experience will suggest corrections. A thousand men require about 3.1 tons of victualling stores, packages included, daily, We may make this figure up to 3.5 tons to allow for 'medical comforts' and canteen stores, Consequently 10,000 men require about 35 tons a day, and about 6300 tons for six months. The assumed squadron, judging from experience, would require in peace time about 600 tons of engineers' stores, about 400 tons of naval stores, and--if the ships started with only their exact allowance on board and then carried out a full quarterly practice twice--the quantity of ordnance stores and ammunition required would be about 1140 tons, to meet the ordinary peace rate of expenditure, We thus get for a full six months' supply the following figures:-- Victualling stores 6,300 tons. Engineers' stores 600 " Naval stores 400 " Ordnance stores and ammunition 1,140 " ----- Total 8,440 " Some allowance must be made for the needs of the 'auxiliaries,'[96] the vessels that bring supplies and in other ways attend on the fighting ships. This may be put at 7 per cent. The tonnage required would accordingly amount in all to about 9000. [Footnote 96: The 7 per cent. mentioned in the text would probably cover nearly all the demands--except coal--of auxiliaries, which would not require much or any ammunition. Coal is provided for separately.] The squadron would burn in harbour or when stationary about 110 tons of coal a day, and when under way about 1050 tons a day. For 140 harbour-days the consumption would be about 15,400 tons; and for 43 days under way about 45,150: so that for coal requirements we should have the following:-- Harbour consumption 15,400 tons. Under-way consumption 45,150 " ------ Total for fighting ships 60,550 " 7 per cent. for auxiliaries (say) 4,250 " ------ Grand total 64,800 " Some time ago (in 1902) a representation was made from the China station that, engine-room oil being expended whenever coal is expended, there must be some proportion between the quantities of each. It was, therefore, suggested that every collier should bring to the squadron which she was supplying a proportionate quantity of oil. This has been approved, and it has been ordered that the proportions will be 75 gallons of oil to every 100 tons of coal.[97] It was also suggested that the oil should be carried in casks of two sizes, for the convenience of both large and small ships. [Footnote 97: I was informed (on the 10th December 1902), some time after the above was written, that the colliers supplying the United States Navy are going to carry 100 gallons of oil for every 100 tons of coal.] There is another commodity, which ships have never been able to do without, and which they need now in higher proportion than ever. That commodity is fresh water. The squadron constituted as assumed would require an average of about 160 tons of fresh water a day, and nearly 30,000 tons in six months. Of this the ships, without adding very inconveniently to their coal consumption, might themselves distil about one-half; but the remaining 15,000 tons would have to be brought to them; and another thousand tons would probably be wanted by the auxiliaries, making the full six months' demand up to 16,000 tons. The tonnage requirements of the squadron and its 'auxiliaries' for a full six months' period would be about 74,000, without fresh water. As, however, the ships would have started with full store-rooms, holds, and bunkers, and might be expected to return to the principal base-port of the station at the end of the period, stores for four-and-a-half months', and coal to meet twenty weeks', consumption would be sufficient. These would be about 6750 tons of stores and ammunition and 46,000 tons of coal.[98] [Footnote 98: To avoid complicating the question, the water or distilling vessel, the hospital ship, and the repair vessel have not been considered specially. Their coal and stores have been allowed for.] The stores, &c., would have to be replenished twice and--as it would not be prudent to let the ships run right out of them--replenishment should take place at the end of the second and at the end of the fourth months. Two vessels carrying stores and ammunition, if capable of transporting a cargo of nearly 1700 tons apiece, would bring all that was wanted at each replenishment. To diminish risk of losing all of one description of supplies, if carried by itself in a separate vessel, it has been considered desirable that each supply-carrier, when employed, is to contain some ammunition, some stores, and some provisions. There are great advantages in having supply-carriers, including, of course, colliers, of moderate size. Many officers must have had experience of the inconvenience and delay due to the employment of a single very large vessel which could only coal one man-of-war at a time. Several vessels, each carrying a moderate amount of cargo, would permit much more rapid replenishment of the ships of a squadron. The inconvenience that would be caused by the loss or breakdown of a supply-carrier would be reduced by employing several vessels of moderate cargo-capacity instead of only one or two of great capacity. Each battleship and large cruiser of the assumed squadron may be expected to burn about 1000 tons of coal in five weeks, so that the quantity to be used in that time by all those ships would be 8000 tons. The remaining ships, scattered between different places as most of them would probably be, would require about 3500 tons. Therefore, every five weeks or so 11,500 tons of coal would be required. Four replenishments would be necessary in the whole period, making a total of 46,000 tons. Each replenishment could be conveyed in five colliers with 2300 tons apiece. Moderate dimensions in store- and coal-carriers would prove convenient, not only because it would facilitate taking in stores and coaling, if all the squadron were assembled at one place, but also if part were at one place and part at another. Division into several vessels, instead of concentration in a few, would give great flexibility to the system of supply. A single very capacious cargo-carrier might have to go first to one place and supply the ships there, and then go to supply the remaining ships lying at another anchorage. This would cause loss of time. The same amount of cargo distributed amongst two or more vessels would permit the ships at two or more places to be supplied simultaneously. You may have noticed that I have been dealing with the question as though stores and coal were to be transported direct to the men-of-war wherever they might be and put straight on board them from the carrying-vessels. There is, as you all know, another method, which may be described as that of 'secondary bases.' Speaking generally, each of our naval stations has a principal base at which considerable or even extensive repairs of the ships can be effected and at which stores are accumulated. Visits to it for the sake of repair being necessary, the occasion may be taken advantage of to replenish supplies, so that the maintenance of a stock at the place makes for convenience, provided that the stock is not too large. The so-called 'secondary base' is a place at which it is intended to keep in store coal and other articles in the hope that when war is in progress the supply of our ships may be facilitated. It is a supply, and not a repairing base. A comparison of the 'direct' system and 'secondary base' system may be interesting. A navy being maintained for use in war, it follows, as a matter of course, that the value of any part of its equipment or organisation depends on its efficiency for war purposes. The question to be answered is--Which of the two systems promises to help us most during hostilities? This does not exclude a regard for convenience and economy in time of peace, provided that care is taken not to push economy too far and not to make ordinary peace-time convenience impede arrangements essential to the proper conduct of a naval campaign. It is universally admitted that a secondary base at which stocks of stores are kept should be properly defended. This necessitates the provision of fortifications and a garrison. Nearly every article of naval stores of all classes has to be brought to our bases by sea, just as much as if it were brought direct to our ships. Consequently the communications of the base have to be defended. They would continue to need defending even if our ships ceased to draw supplies from it, because the communications of the garrison must be kept open. We know what happened twice over at Minorca when the latter was not done. The object of accumulating stores at a secondary base is to facilitate the supply of fighting ships, it being rather confidently assumed that the ships can go to it to replenish without being obliged to absent themselves for long from the positions in which they could best counteract the efforts of the enemy. When war is going on it is not within the power of either side to arrange its movements exactly as it pleases. Movements must, at all events very often, conform to those of the enemy. It is not a bad rule when going to war to give your enemy credit for a certain amount of good sense. Our enemy's good sense is likely to lead him to do exactly what we wish him not to do, and not to do that which we wish him to do. We should, of course, like him to operate so that our ships will not be employed at an inconvenient distance from our base of supplies. If we have created permanent bases in time of peace the enemy will know their whereabouts as well as we do ourselves, and, unless he is a greater fool than it is safe to think he is, he will try to make us derive as little benefit from them as possible. He is likely to extend his operations to localities at a distance from the places to which, if we have the secondary base system of supply, he knows for certain that our ships must resort. We shall have to do one of two things--either let him carry on his operations undisturbed, or conform to his movements. To this is due the common, if not invariable, experience of naval warfare, that the fleet which assumes the offensive has to establish what are sometimes called 'flying bases,' to which it can resort at will. This explains why Nelson rarely used Gibraltar as a base; why we occupied Balaclava in 1854; and why the Americans used Guantanamo Bay in 1898. The flying base is not fortified or garrisoned in advance. It is merely a convenient anchorage, in a good position as regards the circumstances of the war; and it can be abandoned for another, and resumed, if desirable, as the conditions of the moment dictate. It is often argued that maintenance of stocks of stores at a secondary base gives a fleet a free hand and at least relieves it from the obligation of defending the line of communications. We ought to examine both contentions. It is not easy to discover where the freedom comes in if you must always proceed to a certain place for supplies, whether convenient or not. It may be, and very likely will be, of the utmost importance in war for a ship to remain on a particular station. If her coal is running short and can only be replenished by going to a base, go to the base she must, however unfortunate the consequences. It has been mentioned already that nearly every item on our store list has to be brought to a base by sea. Let us ascertain to what extent the accumulation of a stock at a place removes the necessity of defending the communication line. Coal is so much the greater item that consideration of it will cover that of all the rest. The squadron, as assumed, requires about 11,500 tons of coal every five weeks in peace time. Some is commonly obtained from contractors at foreign ports; but to avoid complicating the subject we may leave contract issues out of consideration. If you keep a stock of 10,000 tons at your permanent secondary base, you will have enough to last your ships about four-and-a-half weeks. Consequently you must have a stream of colliers running to the place so as to arrive at intervals of not more than about thirty days. Calculations founded on the experience of manoeuvres show that in war time ships would require nearly three times the quantity used in peace. It follows that, if you trebled your stock of coal at the base and made it 30,000 tons, you would in war still require colliers carrying that amount to arrive about every four weeks. Picture the line of communications with the necessary colliers on it, and see to what extent you are released from the necessity of defending it. The bulk of other stores being much less than that of coal, you could, no doubt, maintain a sufficient stock of them to last through the probable duration of the war; but, as you must keep your communications open to ensure the arrival of your coal, it would be as easy for the other stores to reach you as it would be for the coal itself. Why oblige yourself to use articles kept long in store when much fresher ones could be obtained? Therefore the maintenance of store depots at a secondary base no more releases you from the necessity of guarding your communications than it permits freedom of movement to your ships. The secondary base in time of war is conditioned as follows. If the enemy's sphere of activity is distant from the base which you have equipped with store-houses and fortifications, the place cannot be of any use to you. It can, and probably will, be a cause of additional anxiety to you, because the communications of its garrison must still be kept open. If it is used, freedom of movement for the ships must be given up, because they cannot go so far from it as to be obliged to consume a considerable fraction of their coal in reaching it and returning to their station. The line along which your colliers proceed to it must be effectively guarded. Contrast this with the system of direct supply to the ships-of-war. You choose for your flying base a position which will be as near to the enemy's sphere of action as you choose to make it. You can change its position in accordance with circumstances. If you cease to use the position first chosen you need trouble yourself no more about its special communications. You leave nothing at it which will make it worth the enemy's while to try a dash at it. The power of changing the flying base from one place to another gives almost perfect freedom of movement to the fighting ships. Moreover, the defence of the line communicating with the position selected is not more difficult than that of the line to a fixed base. The defence of a line of communication ought to be arranged on the same plan as that adopted for the defence of a trade route, viz. making unceasing efforts to attack the intending assailant. Within the last few years a good deal has been written about the employment of cruisers. The favourite idea seems to be that peace-time preparation for the cruiser operations of war ought to take the form of scouting and attendance on fleets. The history of naval warfare does not corroborate this view. We need not forget Nelson's complaint of paucity of frigates: but had the number attached to his fleet been doubled, the general disposition of vessels of the class then in commission would have been virtually unaltered. At the beginning of 1805, the year of Trafalgar, we had--besides other classes--232 frigates and sloops in commission; at the beginning of 1806 we had 264. It is doubtful if forty of these were attached to fleets. It is sometimes contended that supply-carriers ought to be vessels of great speed, apparently in order that they may always keep up with the fighting ships when at sea. This, perhaps, is due to a mistaken application of the conditions of a land force on the march to those of a fleet or squadron making a voyage. In practice a land army cannot separate itself--except for a very short time--from its supplies. Its movements depend on those of its supply-train. The corresponding 'supply-train' of a fleet or squadron is in the holds and bunkers of its ships. As long as these are fairly well furnished, the ships might be hampered, and could not be assisted, by the presence of the carriers. All that is necessary is that these carriers should be at the right place at the right time, which is merely another way of saying that proper provision should be made for 'the stream of supplies and reinforcements which in terms of modern war is called communications'--the phrase being Mahan's. The efficiency of any arrangement used in war will depend largely on the experience of its working gained in time of peace. Why do we not work the direct system of supply whilst we are at peace so as to familiarise ourselves with the operations it entails before the stress of serious emergency is upon us? There are two reasons. One is, because we have used the permanent base method so long that, as usually happens in such cases, we find it difficult to form a conception of any other. The other reason is that the direct supply method is thought to be too costly. The first reason need not detain us. It is not worthy of even a few minutes' consideration. The second reason deserves full investigation. We ought to be always alive to the necessity of economy. The only limit to economy of money in any plan of naval organisation is that we should not carry it so far that it will be likely to impair efficiency. Those who are familiar with the correspondence of the great sea-officers of former days will have noticed how careful they were to prevent anything like extravagant expenditure. This inclination towards a proper parsimony of naval funds became traditional in our service. The tradition has, perhaps, been rather weakened in these days of abundant wealth; but we should do our best not to let it die out. Extravagance is a serious foe to efficient organisation, because where it prevails there is a temptation to try imperfectly thought-out experiments, in the belief that, if they fail, there will still be plenty of money to permit others to be tried. This, of course, encourages slovenly want of system, which is destructive of good organisation. We may assume, for the purposes of our investigation, that our permanently equipped secondary base contains a stock of 10,000 tons of coal. Any proportionate quantity, however, may be substituted for this, as the general argument will remain unaffected. As already intimated, coal is so much greater in bulk and aggregate cost than any other class of stores that, if we arrange for its supply, the provision of the rest is a comparatively small matter. The squadron which we have had in view requires an estimated amount of 46,000 tons of coal in six months' period specified, and a further quantity of 4600 tons may be expected to suffice for the ships employed in the neighbouring waters during the remainder of the year. This latter amount would have to be brought in smaller cargoes, say, five of 920 tons each. Allowing for the colliers required during the six months whilst the whole squadron has to be supplied an average cargo of 2300 tons, we should want twenty arrivals with an aggregate of 46,000 tons, and later on five arrivals of smaller colliers with an aggregate of 4600 tons to complete the year. The freight or cost of conveyance to the place need not be considered here, as it would be the same in either system. If we keep a stock of supplies at a place we must incur expenditure to provide for the storage of the articles. There would be what may be called the capital charges for sites, buildings, residences, jetties, tram lines, &c., for which £20,000 would probably not be enough, but we may put it at that so as to avoid the appearance of exaggeration. A further charge would be due to the provision of tugs or steam launches, and perhaps lighters. This would hardly be less than £15,000. Interest on money sunk, cost of repairs, and maintenance, would not be excessive if they amounted to £3500 a year. There must be some allowance for the coal used by the tugs and steam launches. It is doubtful if £500 a year would cover this; but we may put it at that. Salaries and wages of staff, including persons employed in tugs and steam launches, would reach quite £2500 a year. It is to be noted that the items which these charges are assumed to cover cannot be dispensed with. If depots are established at all, they must be so arranged that the stores deposited in them can be securely kept and can be utilised with proper expedition. The total of the charges just enumerated is £6500 a year. There are other charges that cannot be escaped. For example, landing a ton of coal at Wei-hai-wei, putting it into the depot, and taking it off again to the man-of-war requiring it, costs $1 20 cents, or at average official rate of exchange two shillings. At Hong-Kong the cost is about 2s. 5d. a ton. The charge at 2s. per ton on 50,600 tons would be £5060. I am assured by every engineer officer to whom I have spoken on the subject that the deterioration in coal due to the four different handlings which it has to undergo if landed in lighters and taken off again to ships from the coal-store cannot be put at less than 10 per cent. Note that this is over and above such deterioration as would be due to passing coal direct from the hold of a collier alongside into a ship's bunkers. If anyone doubts this deterioration it would be well for him to examine reports on coal and steam trials. He will be unusually fortunate if he finds so small a deterioration as 10 per cent. The lowest that I can remember having seen reported is 20 per cent.; reports of 30 and even 40 per cent. are quite common. Some of it is for deterioration due to climate and length of time in store. This, of course, is one of the inevitable conditions of the secondary base system, the object of which is to keep in stock a quantity of the article needed. Putting the purchase price of the coal as low as 15s. a ton, a deterioration due to repeated handling only of 10 per cent. on 50,600 tons would amount to £3795. There is nearly always some loss of coal due to moving it. I say 'nearly always' because it seems that there are occasions on which coal being moved increases in bulk. It occurs when competitive coaling is being carried on in a fleet and ships try to beat records. A collier in these circumstances gives out more coal than she took in. We shall probably be right if we regard the increase in this case as what the German philosophers call 'subjective,' that is, rather existent in the mind than in the external region of objective, palpable fact. It may be taken as hardly disputable that there will be less loss the shorter the distance and the fewer the times the coal is moved. Without counting it we see that the annual expenses enumerated are-- Establishment charges £6,500 Landing and re-shipping 5,060 Deterioration 3,795 ------- £15,355 This £15,355 is to be compared with the cost of the direct supply system. The quantity of coal required would, as said above, have to be carried in twenty colliers--counting each trip as that of a separate vessel--with, on the average, 2300 tons apiece, and five smaller ones. It would take fully four days to unload 2300 tons at the secondary base, and even more if the labour supply was uncertain or the labourers not well practised. Demurrage for a vessel carrying the cargo mentioned, judging from actual experience, would be about £32 a day; and probably about £16 a day for the smaller vessels. If we admit an average delay, per collier, of eighteen days, that is, fourteen days more than the time necessary for removing the cargo into store, so as to allow for colliers arriving when the ships to be coaled are absent, we should get-- 20 X 14 X 32 £8,960 5 X 14 X 16 1,120 ------- £10,080 as the cost of transferring the coal from the holds to the men-of-war's bunkers on the direct supply system. An average of eighteen days is probably much too long to allow for each collier's stay till cleared: because, on some occasions, ships requiring coal may be counted on as sure to be present. Even as it is, the £10,080 is a smaller sum than the £11,560 which the secondary base system costs over and above the amount due to increased deterioration of coal. If a comparison were instituted as regards other kinds of stores, the particular figures might be different, but the general result would be the same. The first thing that we have got to do is to rid our minds of the belief that because we see a supply-carrier lying at anchor for some days without being cleared, more money is being spent than is spent on the maintenance of a shore depot. There may be circumstances in which a secondary base is a necessity, but they must be rare and exceptional. We saw that the establishment of one does not help us in the matter of defending our communications. We now see that, so far from being more economical than the alternative method, the secondary base method is more costly. It might have been demonstrated that it is really much more costly than the figures given make it out to be, because ships obliged to go to a base must expend coal in doing so, and coal costs money. It is not surprising that consideration of the secondary base system should evoke a recollection of the expression applied by Dryden to the militia of his day: In peace a charge; in war a weak defence. I have to say that I did not prepare this paper simply for the pleasure of reading it, or in order to bring before you mere sets of figures and estimates of expense. My object has been to arouse in some of the officers who hear me a determination to devote a portion of their leisure to the consideration of those great problems which must be solved by us if we are to wage war successfully. Many proofs reach me of the ability and zeal with which details of material are investigated by officers in these days. The details referred to are not unimportant in themselves; but the importance of several of them if put together would be incomparably less than that of the great question to which I have tried to direct your attention. The supply of a fleet is of high importance in both peace time and time of war. Even in peace it sometimes causes an admiral to pass a sleepless night. The arrangements which it necessitates are often intricate, and success in completing them occasionally seems far off. The work involved in devising suitable plans is too much like drudgery to be welcome to those who undertake it. All the same it has to be done: and surely no one will care to deny that the fleet which has practised in quiet years the system that must be followed in war will start with a great advantage on its side when it is at last confronted with the stern realities of naval warfare. POSTSCRIPT The question of 'Communications,' if fully dealt with in the foregoing paper, would have made it so long that its hearers might have been tired out before its end was reached. The following summary of the points that might have been enlarged upon, had time allowed, may interest many officers:-- In time of war we must keep open our lines of communication. If we cannot, the war will have gone against us. Open communications mean that we can prevent the enemy from carrying out decisive and sustained operations against them and along their line. To keep communications open it is not necessary to secure every friendly ship traversing the line against attacks by the enemy. All that is necessary is to restrict the enemy's activity so far that he can inflict only such a moderate percentage of loss on the friendly vessels that, as a whole, they will not cease to run. Keeping communications open will not secure a friendly place against every form of attack. It will, however, secure a place against attacks with large forces sustained for a considerable length of time. If he can make attacks of this latter kind, it is clear that the enemy controls the communications and that we have failed to keep them open. If communications are open for the passage of vessels of the friendly mercantile marine, it follows that the relatively much smaller number of supply-vessels can traverse the line. As regards supply-vessels, a percentage of loss caused by the enemy must be allowed for. If we put this at 10 per cent.--which, taken absolutely, is probably sufficient--it means that _on_the_ _average_ out of ten supply-vessels sent we expect nine to reach their destination. We cannot, however, arrange that an equal loss will fall on every group of ten vessels. Two such groups may arrive intact, whilst a third may lose three vessels. Yet the 10 per cent. average would be maintained. This condition has to be allowed for. Investigations some years ago led to the conclusion that it would be prudent to send five carriers for every four wanted. The word 'group' has been used above only in a descriptive sense. Supply-carriers will often be safer if they proceed to their destination separately. This, however, depends on circumstances. INDEX Adventure, voyages of Agincourt, battle of Alcester, Lord Alexander the Great Alexandria, bombardment of American War of Independence; Sir Henry Maine on ---- War of Secession; raids in ---- War with Spain Ammunition, supply of; alleged shortage at the defeat of the Armada Army co-operation Athenian Navy; at the battle of Syracuse Australian Fleet, localisation of Austro-Prussian War Baehr, C. F Balaclava, capture of Bantry Bay, French invasion of Battleships, merits of; coal consumption of Beer, for the Navy Benedek, General Blockades Bounty for recruits Brassey, Lord Bright, Rev. J. F. Brougham, Lord Brunswick-Oels, Duke of Burchett, quoted Burleigh, Lord Byng, Admiral (_see_under_ Torrington, Earl of). Cadiz, Expedition Camperdown, battle of Camperdown, Lord Cardigan Bay, French invasion of Carnot, President Carrying trade, of the colonies; of the world Carthaginian Navy; fall of Cawdor, Lord Centralisation, evils of Charles II, King 'Chatham Chest' Chevalier, Captain; quoted Chino-Japanese War Chioggia, battle of Coal, allowance of; bases for; cost of Coast defence (_see_also_under_ Invasion) Collingwood, Admiral, at Trafalgar Colomb, Vice-Admiral P. H.; on the Chino-Japanese War; on the command of the sea; on Nelson's tactics at Trafalgar Colonies, naval bases in the; contributions by the; and terms of service in the navy Command of the sea; and the claim to a salute; in the Crimean War; local and temporary; and the French invasion; land fortification and; in war; and our food supply; essential to the Empire Commerce, protection of naval; destruction of; at the time of Trafalgar Communications, in war; control of; with naval bases; of a fleet Corbett, Mr. Julian; on Nelson Cornwallis, Admiral Crécy, battle of Crimean War; command of the sea in; mortality in Cromwell, Oliver Cruisers, necessity for; their equivalent at Trafalgar; coal consumption of; duties of Crusades Dacres, Rear-Admiral De Burgh, Hubert De Galles, Admiral Morard De Grasse, Admiral De la Gravière, Admiral De Ruyter, Admiral Defence, of naval commerce; against invasion; offensive; inefficiency of localised; against raids Desbrière, Capt. Destroyers, origin of Dewey, Admiral 'Dictionary of National Biography' Dockyards, fortification of Dornberg, Colonel Drake, Sir Francis Drury Lane Pantomime Dryden, quoted Duncan, Lord; Life of; quoted Dundonald, Lord Duro, Captain Dutch East India Co. ---- Navy ---- War Economy and Efficiency Edward III, King Egypt, French Expedition to Ekins, Sir Charles Elizabeth (Queen) and her seamen Empire, the defence of; and control of ocean communications English Channel, command of the Exploration, voyages of Fishguard, French invasion of Fleet, positions in war for the; duties of the; and the defence of Empire; supply and communications of the 'Fleet in being' Food supply and control of the sea Foods, preservation of Foreign seamen, in our merchant service; their exemption from impressment Franco-German War Froude's History Fulton, quoted Gardiner, Dr. S. R., quoted Genoese Navy German Navy, in the Baltic Gibbon, quoted Gibraltar; siege of Gravelines, battle of Greek Navy Green, J. R., quoted Grierson, Colonel B. H. Grouchy, Admiral Gutteridge, Mr. Hall, Mr. Hubert Hammond, Dr. W. A. 'Handy man' evolution of the Hannay, Mr. D. Hannibal Hawke, Lord Hawkins, Sir J. Herodotus, quoted History, influence of naval campaigns on; of war Hoche, General Holm, Adolf Hood, Lord; and Nelson Hosier, Admiral Howard of Effingham, Lord; quoted Howe, Lord; at Gibraltar; his tactics Hughes, Sir Edward Humbert's Bxpedition _Illustrious_ Training School Impressment; exemption of foreigners from; inefficiency of; legalised forcible; popular misconceptions of; exemptions from (_see_also_under_ Press gang) Indian Mutiny International law, and the sea; and the sale of bad food Invasion, prevention of; of British Isles; over sea and land raids; land defence against; as a means of war Ireland, French invasion of Jamaica, seizure of James, quoted Japan and China war Jena, battle of Jessopp, Dr. A. Joyeuse, Admiral Villaret Keith, Lord Killigrew, Vice-Admiral Kinglake, quoted La Hogue, battle of Laughton, Professor Sir J. K.; 'Defeat of the Armada,'; on Nelson Lepanto, battle of Lindsay, W. S. Local defence, inefficiency of; of naval bases Lyons, Admiral Lord Mahan, Captain A. T.; on the Roman Navy; on sea commerce; on early naval warfare; on the naval 'calling'; on the American War of Independence; influence of his teaching; on the Spanish-American War; on control of the sea; on impressment; on Nelson at Trafalgar Malaga, battle of Manoeuvres Marathon, battle of Marines and impressment Martin, Admiral Sir T. Byam Medina-Sidonia, Duke of Mediterranean, command of the Mends, Dr. Stilon ---- Admiral Sir W. Merchant Service, foreign seamen in our; historical relations of the navy with the; its exemption from impressment (_see_ _also_under_ Commerce) Minorca Mischenko, General Mortality from disease in war Motley, quoted Mutiny at the Nore Napoleon, Emperor; and the invasion of England; expedition to Egypt; on losses in War Naval bases; defence of; cost of _Naval_Chronicle_ Naval strategy; in the American War of Independence; the frontier in; and command of the sea; the fleet's position in War; compared with military; and the French Expedition to Egypt; in defence of Empire; for weak navies; at the time of Trafalgar ---- tactics, Nelson's achievements in; at Trafalgar; consideration of cost in ---- warfare, influence on history of; the true objective in (_see_also_under_ War) Navies, costliness of; strength of foreign Navigation Act (1651) Navy, necessity for a strong; and Army co-operation; human element in the; changes in organisation; conditions of service in the; peace training of the; historical relations with the merchant service; impressment in the; records of the; Queen Elizabeth's; victualling the; pay in the; its mobility; and the two-power standard; question of size of ships for the; economy and efficiency in the Navy Records Society Nelson, Lord; on blockades; and the 'Nile'; his strategy; and Trafalgar; his tactics Netley Hospital Newbolt, Mr. H. Nile, battle of the Oil, ship's allowance of Oppenheim, Mr. M. Oversea raids Palmer, Six Henry Peace training, and war; of the 'handy man' Pepys, quoted Pericles, quoted Persian Navy Peter the Great Phillip, Rear-Admiral Arthur Phoenician Navy Pitt, William; quoted Piracy Pocock, Rev. Thomas Poitiers, battle of Policing the sea Port Arthur, battle off Ports, fortification of Portuguese Navy Press gang; popular misconceptions of the; facts and fancies about the; in literature and art; operations of the Price, Dr. Quiberon Bay, battle of Raiding attacks; prevention of Raids, oversea and on land Raleigh, Sir Walter Recruiting, from the merchant service; by the press gang Recruits, bounty for Rhodes Navy Robinson, Commander Rodney, Lord Rogers, Thorold Roman Navy Rooke, Sir George Roosevelt, Mr. Theodore, quoted Russo-Japanese War ---- Turkish War St. Vincent, Lord Salamis, battle of Salute, the claim to a Saracen Navy Schill, Colonel Sea, International law and the Sea Power, history and meaning of the term; defined; influence on history of naval campaigns; of the Phoenicians; of Greece and Persia; of Rome and Carthage; in the Middle Ages; of the Saracens; and the Crusades; of Venice, Pisa and Genoa; of the Turks; in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries; of Portugal and Spain; rise in England of; and exploration and adventure; and military co-operation; of the Dutch; and naval strategy; in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries; examples of its efficiency; in recent times; in Crimean War; in American War of Secession; in Russo-Turkish war; in Chino-Japanese War; in Spanish-American War Sebastopol, siege of Seeley, Sir J. R. Seymour, Lord Henry Ships for the navy, question of size of; for supply Sismondi, quoted Sluys, battle of Smith, Sir Sydney Spanish Armada, defeat of the; Records of; Queen Elizabeth and the ---- American War Spanish Indies ---- Navy Spartan Army Stirling, Sir James Stores, reserve of ship's Strategy (_see_under_ Naval Strategy) Stuart, General J. E. B. Suffren, Admiral Supply and communications of a fleet Supply ships, sizes of Syracuse, battle of Tactics (_see_under_ Naval Tactics) Tate, Colonel Themistocles; and the Greek Navy Thucydides, quoted _Times_, quoted Torpedo boats, defence against Torrington, Earl of Tourville, Admiral Trafalgar, battle of; tactics of; British losses at; the attack; contemporary strategy and tactics Training (_see_under_ Peace Training) Turkish Navy United States Navy Venetian Navy Victualling allowances; and modern preserved foods Walcheren Expedition, mortality in Wales, French invasion of War, and its chief lessons; human element in; the unexpected in; under modern conditions; how to avoid surprise in; mortality from disease in; methods of making; command of the sea in; compensation for losses in; Napoleon on loss of life in; supplies in (_see_also_under_ Invasion, Naval Warfare, and Raids) Washington, George Water, ship's allowance of Waterloo, battle of Wellington, Duke of William III, King Wilmot, Sir S. Eardley Xerxes; his highly trained Army THE END 
17547	----	Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustrations. See 17547-h.htm or 17547-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/1/7/5/4/17547/17547-h/17547-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/1/7/5/4/17547/17547-h.zip) THE NAVY AS A FIGHTING MACHINE by REAR ADMIRAL BRADLEY A. FISKE U. S. Navy Former Aid for Operations of the Fleet; President of the U. S. Naval Institute; Gold Medallist of the U. S. Naval Institute and The Franklin Institute of Pennsylvania Author of "Electricity in Theory and Practice," "War Time in Manila," Etc. With Map PREFACE What is the navy for? Of what parts should it be composed? What principles should be followed in designing, preparing, and operating it in order to get the maximum return for the money expended? To answer these questions clearly and without technical language is the object of the book. BRADLEY A. FISKE. U. S. NAVAL WAR COLLEGE, NEWPORT, R. I., September 3, 1916. CONTENTS PART I GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS CHAPTER I. WAR AND THE NATIONS II. NAVAL A, B, C III. NAVAL POWER IV. NAVAL PREPAREDNESS V. NAVAL DEFENSE VI. NAVAL POLICY PART II NAVAL STRATEGY VII. GENERAL PRINCIPLES VIII. DESIGNING THE MACHINE IX. PREPARING THE ACTIVE FLEET X. RESERVES AND SHORE STATIONS XI. NAVAL BASES XII. OPERATING THE MACHINE STRATEGIC MAP OF THE ATLANTIC AND PACIFIC OCEANS *** Chapters III and VII were published originally in _The U. S. Naval Institute_; chapters I, II, IV, V, and VII in _The North American Review_. PART I GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS CHAPTER I WAR AND THE NATIONS Because the question is widely discussed, whether peace throughout the world may be attained by the friendly co-operation of many nations, and because a nation's attitude toward this question may determine its future prosperity or ruin, it may be well to note what has been the trend of the nations hitherto, and whether any forces exist that may reasonably be expected to change that trend. We may then be able to induce from facts the law which that trend obeys, and make a reasonable deduction as to whether or not the world is moving toward peace. If we do this we shall follow the inductive method of modern science, and avoid the error (with its perilous results) of first assuming the law and then deducing conclusions from it. Men have always been divided into organizations, the first organization being the family. As time went on families were formed into tribes, for self-protection. The underlying cause for the organization was always a desire for strength; sometimes for defense, sometimes for offense, usually for both. At times tribes joined in alliance with other tribes to attain a common end, the alliance being brought about by peaceful agreement, and usually ceasing after the end had been attained, or missed, or when tribal jealousies forbade further common effort. Sometimes tribes joined to form one larger tribe; the union being either forced on a weaker by a stronger tribe, or caused by a desire to secure a strength greater and more lasting than mere alliance can insure. In the same way, and apparently according to similar laws, sovereign states or nations were formed from tribes; and in later years, by the union of separate states. The states or nations have become larger and larger as time has gone on; greater numbers, not only of people but of peoples, living in the same general localities and having hereditary ties, joining to form a nation. Though the forms of government of these states or nations are numerous, and though the conceptions of people as to the purposes and functions of the state vary greatly, we find that one characteristic of a state has always prevailed among all the states and nations of the world--the existence of an armed military force, placed under the control of its government; the purpose of this armed force being to enable the government not only to carry on its administration of internal matters, but also to exert itself externally against the armed force of another state. This armed force has been a prominent factor in the life of every sovereign state and independent tribe, from history's beginning, and is no less a factor now. No instance can be found of a sovereign state without its appropriate armed force, to guard its sovereignty, and preserve that freedom from external control, without which freedom it ceases to exist as a sovereign state. The armed force has always been a matter of very great expense. It has always required the anxious care of the government and the people. The men comprising it have always been subjected to restraint and discipline, compelled to undergo hardships and dangers greater than those of civil life, and developed by a training highly specialized and exacting. The armed force in every state has had not only continuous existence always, but continuous, potential readiness, if not continuous employment; and the greatest changes in the mutual relations of nations have been brought about by the victory of the armed force of one state over the armed force of another state. This does not mean that the fundamental causes of the changes have been physical, for they have been psychological, and have been so profound and so complex as to defy analysis; but it does mean that the actual and immediate instrument producing the changes has been physical force; that physical force and physical courage acting in conjunction, of which conjunction war is the ultimate expression, have always been the most potent instruments in the dealings of nations with each other. Is there any change toward peaceful methods now? No, on the contrary; war is recognized as the most potent method still; the prominence of military matters is greater than ever before; at no time in the past has interest in war been so keen as at the present, or the expenditure of blood and money been so prodigal; at no time before has war so thoroughly engaged the intellect and energy of mankind. In other words, the trend of the nations has been toward a clearer recognition of the efficacy of military power, and an increasing use of the instrumentality of war. This does not mean that the trend of the nations has been regular; for, on the contrary, it has been spasmodic. If one hundred photographs of the map of Europe could be taken, each photograph representing in colors the various countries as they appeared upon the map at one hundred different times, and if those hundred photographs could be put on films and shown as a moving-picture on a screen, the result would resemble the shifting colored pieces in a kaleidoscope. Boundaries advanced and receded, then advanced again; tribes and nations moved their homes from place to place; empires, kingdoms, principalities, duchies, and republics flourished brilliantly for a while, and then went out; many peoples struggled for an autonomous existence, but hardly a dozen acquired enough territory or mustered a sufficiently numerous population to warrant their being called "great nations." Of those that were great nations, only three have endured as great nations for eight hundred years; and the three that have so endured are the three greatest in Europe now--the French, the British, and the German. Some of the ancient empires continued for long periods. The history of practical, laborious, and patient China is fairly complete and clear for more than two thousand years before our era; and of dreamy, philosophic India for almost as long, though in far less authentic form. Egypt existed as a nation, highly military, artistic, and industrious, as her monuments show, for perhaps four thousand years; when she was forced by the barbarians of Persia into a condition of dependence, from which she has never yet emerged. The time of her greatness in the arts and sciences of peace was the time of her greatest military power; and her decline in the arts and sciences of peace accompanied her decline in those of war. Assyria, with her two capitals, Babylon and Nineveh, flourished splendidly for about six centuries, and was then subdued by the Persians under Cyrus, after the usual decline. The little kingdom of the Hebrews, hardy and warlike under Saul and David, luxurious and effeminate under Solomon, lasted but little more than a hundred years. Persia, rising rapidly by military means from the barbarian state, lived a brilliant life of conquest, cultivated but little those arts of peace that hold in check the passions of a successful military nation, yielded rapidly to the seductions of luxury, and fell abruptly before the Macedonian Alexander, lasting less than two hundred and fifty years. Macedonia, trained under Philip, rose to great military power under Alexander, conquered in twelve years the ten most wealthy and populous countries of the world--nearly the whole known world; but fell to pieces almost instantly when Alexander died. The cities of Greece enjoyed a rare pre-eminence both in the arts and sciences of peace and in military power, but only for about one hundred and fifty years: falling at last before the superior military force of Macedon, after neglecting the practice of the military arts, and devoting themselves to art, learning, and philosophy. Rome as a great nation lasted about five hundred years; and the last three centuries of her life after the death of Commodus, about 192 A. D., illustrate curiously the fact that, even if a people be immoral, cruel, and base in many ways, their existence as an independent state may be continued long, if military requirements be understood, and if the military forces be preserved from the influence of the effeminacy of the nation as a whole. In Rome, the army was able to maintain a condition of considerable manliness, relatively to the people at large, and thus preserve internal order and keep the barbarians at bay for nearly three hundred years; and at the same time exert a powerful and frequently deciding influence in the government. But the effeminacy of the people, especially of those in the higher ranks, made them the creatures of the army that protected them. In some cases, the Emperor himself was selected by the army, or by the Pretorian Guard in Rome; and sometimes the guard removed an Emperor of whom it disapproved by the simple expedient of killing him. After the fall of the Western Empire in 476, when Rome was taken by Odoacer, a condition of confusion, approaching anarchy, prevailed throughout Europe, until Charlemagne founded his empire, about 800 A. D., except that Constantinople was able to stand up against all outside assaults and hold the Eastern Empire together. Charlemagne's empire united under one government nearly all of what is now France, Germany, Austria, Italy, Belgium, and Holland. The means employed by Charlemagne to found his empire were wholly military, though means other than military were instituted to preserve it. He endeavored by just government, wise laws, and the encouragement of religion and of education of all kinds to form a united people. The time was not ripe, however; and Charlemagne's empire fell apart soon after Charlemagne expired. The rapid rise and spread of the Mohammedan religion was made possible by the enthusiasm with which Mahomet imbued his followers, but the actual founding of the Arabian Empire was due wholly to military conquest, achieved by the fanatic Mussulmans who lived after him. After a little more than a hundred years, the empire was divided into two caliphates. Brilliant and luxurious courts were thereafter held by caliphs at Bagdad and Cordova, with results similar to those in Egypt, Persia, Assyria, and Rome; the people becoming effeminate, employed warriors to protect them, and the warriors became their masters. Then, effeminacy spreading even to the warriors, strength to resist internal disorders as well as external assaults gradually faded, and both caliphates fell. From the death of Charlemagne until the fall of Constantinople, in 1453, the three principal nations of Europe were those of France, Germany, and England. Until that time, and dating from a time shortly before the fall of Rome, Europe was in perpetual turmoil--owing not only to conflicts between nations, but to conflicts between the Church of Rome and the civil power of the Kings and Emperors, to conflicts among the feudal lords, and to conflicts between the sovereigns and the feudal lords. The power of the Roman Church was beneficent in checking a too arrogant and military tendency, and was the main factor in preventing an utter lapse back to barbarism. The end of the Middle Ages and the beginning of what are usually called "Modern Times" found only four great countries in the world--France, Germany, Spain, and England. Of these Spain dropped out in the latter part of the sixteenth century. The other three countries still stand, though none of them lies within exactly the same boundaries as when modern times began; and Austria, which was a part of Germany then, is now--with Hungary--a separate state and nation. This very brief survey of history shows that every great nation has started from a small beginning and risen sometimes gradually, sometimes rapidly to greatness; and then fallen, sometimes gradually, sometimes rapidly, to mediocrity, dependence, or extinction; that the instrument which has effected the rise has always been military power, usually exerted by armies on the land, sometimes by navies on the sea; and that the instrument which has effected the actual fall has always been the military power of an adversary. In other words, _the immediate instrument that has decided the rise and the fall of nations has been military power_. That this should have been so need not surprise us, since nations have always been composed of human beings, influenced by the same hopes and fears and governed by the same laws of human nature. And as the most potent influence that could be brought to bear upon a man was a threat against his life, and as it was the province of military power to threaten life, it was unavoidable that military power should be the most potent influence that could be brought to bear upon a nation. The history of the world has been in the main a history of war and a narrative of wars. No matter how far back we go, the same horrible but stimulating story meets our eyes. In ancient days, when every weapon was rude, and manipulated by one man only, the injury a single weapon could do was small, the time required for preparation was but brief, and the time required for recuperation after war was also brief. At that time, military power was almost the sole element in the longevity of a tribe, or clan, or nation; and the warriors were the most important men among the people. But as civilization increased, the life not only of individuals but of nations became more complex, and warriors had to dispute with statesmen, diplomatists, poets, historians, and artists of various types, the title to pre-eminence. Yet even in savage tribes and even in the conduct of savage wars, the value of wisdom and cunning was perceived, and the stimulating aid of the poet and the orator was secured. The relative value of men of war and men of peace depended during each period on the conditions prevailing then--in war, warriors held the stage; in peace, statesmen and artists had their day. Naturally, during periods when war was the normal condition, the warrior was the normal pillar of the state. In how great a proportion of the time that history describes, war was the normal condition and peace the abnormal, few realize now in our country, because of the aloofness of the present generation from even the memory of war. Our last great war ended in 1865; and since then only the light and transient touch of the Spanish War has been laid upon us. Even that war ended seventeen years ago and since then only the distant rumblings of battles in foreign lands have been borne across the ocean to our ears. These rumblings have disturbed us very little. Feeling secure behind the 3,000-mile barrier of the ocean, we have lent an almost incredulous ear to the story that they tell and the menace that they bear; though the story of the influence of successful and unsuccessful wars upon the rise and fall of nations is told so harshly and so loudly that, in order not to hear it, one must tightly stop his ears. That war has not been the only factor, however, in the longevity of nations is obviously true; and it is also true that nations which have developed the warlike arts alone have never even approximated greatness. In all complex matters, in all processes of nature and human nature, many elements are present, and many factors combine to produce a given result. Man is a very complex individual, and the more highly he is developed the more complex he becomes. A savage is mainly an animal; but the civilized and highly educated man is an animal on whose elemental nature have been superposed very highly organized mental, moral, and spiritual natures. Yet even a savage of the most primitive or warlike character has an instinctive desire for rest and softness and beauty, and loves a primitive music; and even the most highly refined and educated gentleman raises his head a little higher, and draws his breath a little deeper, when war draws near. Thus in the breast of every man are two opposing forces; one urging him to the action and excitement of war, the other to the comparative inaction and tranquillity of peace. On the side that urges war, we see hate, ambition, courage, energy, and strength; on the side that urges peace we see love, contentment, cowardice, indolence, and weakness. We see arrayed for war the forceful faults and virtues; for peace the gentle faults and virtues. Both the forceful and the gentle qualities tend to longevity in certain ways and tend to its prevention in other ways; but history clearly shows that the _forceful qualities have tended more to the longevity of nations than the gentle_. If ever two nations, or two tribes, have found themselves contiguous, one forceful and the other not, the forceful one has usually, if not always, obtained the mastery over the other, and therefore has outlived it. If any cow and any lion have found themselves alone together, the lion has outlived the cow. It is true that the mere fact of being a lion has not insured long life, and that the mere fact of being a cow has not precluded it; and some warlike tribes and nations have not lived so long as tribes and nations of softer fibre. This seems to have been due, however, either to the environments in which the two have lived, or to the fact that the softer nation has had available some forces that the other did not have. The native Indians of North America were more warlike than the colonists from Europe that landed on their shores; but the Indians were armed with spears and arrows, and the colonists with guns. Now, those guns were the product of the arts of peace; no nation that had pursued a warlike life exclusively could have produced them or invented the powder that discharged them. This fact indicates what a thousand other facts of history also indicate, that civilization and the peaceful arts contribute to the longevity of nations--not only by promoting personal comfort, and by removing causes of internal strife, and thus enabling large bodies of people to dwell together happily, but also by increasing their military power. Every nation which has achieved greatness has cultivated assiduously both the arts of peace and the arts of war. Every nation which has long maintained that greatness has done so by maintaining the policy by which she acquired it. _Every nation that has attained and then lost greatness, has lost it by losing the proper balance between the military and the peaceful arts; never by exalting unduly the military, but always by neglecting them, and thereby becoming vulnerable to attack_. In other words, the history of every great nation that has declined shows three periods, the rise, the table-land of greatness, and the decline. During the rise, the military arts hold sway; on the table-land, the arts of peace and war are fairly balanced; during the decline the peaceful arts hold sway. _Facilis descensus Averni_. The rise is accomplished by expending energy, for which accomplishment the possession of energy is the first necessity; the height of the table-land attained represents the amount of energy expended; the length of time that the nation maintains itself upon this table-land, before starting on the inevitable descent therefrom, represents her staying power and constitutes her longevity as a great nation. How long shall any nation stay upon the table-land? As long as she continues to adapt her life wisely to her environment; as long as she continues to be as wise as she was while climbing up; for while climbing, she had not only to exert force, she had also to guide the force with wisdom. So we see that, in the ascent, a nation has to use both force and wisdom; on the table-land, wisdom; in the decline, neither. Among the nations of antiquity one might suppose that, because of the slowness of transportation and communication, and the feebleness of weapons compared with those of modern days, much longer periods of time would be required for the rise of any nation, and also a longer period before her descent began. Yet the vast empire of Alexander lasted hardly a day after he expired, and the Grecian cities maintained their greatness but a century and a half; while Great Britain, France, and Germany have been great nations for nearly a thousand years. Why have they endured longer than the others? The answer is hard to find; because many causes, and some of them obscure, have contributed to the result. But, as we observe the kind of constitution and the mode of life of long-lived people, in order to ascertain what kind of constitution and mode of life conduce to longevity in people, so perhaps we may logically do the same with nations. Observing the constitution and mode of life of the British, French, and German nations, we are struck at once with the fact that those peoples have been by constitution active, ambitious, intelligent, and brave; and that they have observed in their national life a skilfully balanced relation between the arts of peace and the arts of war; neglecting neither and allowing neither to wax great at the expense of the other. In all those countries the _first_ aim has been protection from both external attack and internal disorder. Protection from external attack has been gained by military force and highly trained diplomacy; protection from internal disorder has been gained _first_ by military force, and _second_ by wise laws, just courts, and the encouragement of religion and of those arts and sciences that lead to comfort and happiness in living. China may attract the attention of some as an instance of longevity; but is China a nation in the usual meaning of the word? Certainly, she is not a great nation. It is true that no other nation has actually conquered her of late; but this has been largely by reason of her remoteness from the active world, and because other nations imposed their will upon her, without meeting any resistance that required the use of war to overcome. And even China has not lived a wholly peaceful life, despite the non-military character of her people. Her whole history was one of wars, like that of other nations, until the middle of the fourteenth century of our era. Since then, she has had four wars, in all of which she has been whipped: one in the seventeenth century when the country was successfully invaded, and the native dynasty was overthrown by the Tartars of Manchuria; one in 1840, when Great Britain compelled her to cede Hong-Kong and to open five ports to foreign commerce, through which ports opium could be introduced; one in 1860, with Great Britain and France, that resulted in the capture of Pekin; and one with Japan in 1894. Since that time (as well as before) China has been the scene of revolutions and wide-spread disturbances, so that, even though a peace-loving and non-resisting nation, peace has not reigned within her borders. The last dynasty was overthrown in 1912. Since then a feeble republic has dragged on a precarious existence, interrupted by the very short reign of Yuan Shih K'ai. This brief consideration of the trend of people up to the present time seems to show that, owing to the nature of man himself, especially to the nature of large "crowds" of men, the direction in which nations have been moving hitherto has not been toward increasing the prevalence of peace, but rather toward increasing the methods, instruments, and areas of war; furthermore, that this direction of movement has been necessary, in order to achieve and to maintain prosperity in any nation. This being the case, what forces exist that may reasonably be expected to change that trend? Three main forces are usually mentioned: Civilization, Commerce, Christianity. Before considering these it may be well to note Newton's first law of motion, that every body will continue in a state of rest or of uniform motion in a straight line unless acted on by some external force; for though this law was affirmed of material bodies, yet its applicability to large groups of men is striking and suggestive. Not only do human beings have the physical attributes of weight and inertia like other material bodies, but their mental organism, while of a higher order than the physical, is as powerfully affected by external forces. And though it is true that psychology has not yet secured her Newton, and that no one has yet formulated a law that expresses exactly the action of the minds and spirits of men under the influence of certain mental and moral stimuli or forces, yet we know that our minds and spirits are influenced by fear, hope, ambition, hate, and so forth, in ways that are fairly well understood and toward results that often can be predicted in advance. Our whole theory of government and our laws of business and every-day life are founded on the belief that men are the same to-day as they were yesterday, and that they will be the same to-morrow. The whole science of psychology is based on the observed and recorded actions of the human organism under the influence of certain external stimuli or forces, and starts from the assumption that this organism has definite and permanent characteristics. If this is not so--if the behavior of men in the past has not been governed by actual laws which will also govern their behavior in the future--then our laws of government are built on error, and the teachings of psychology are foolish. This does not mean that any man will necessarily act in the same way to-morrow as he did yesterday, when subjected to the influence of the same threat, inducement, or temptation; because, without grappling the thorny question of free will, we realize that a man's action is never the result of only one stimulus and motive, but is the resultant of many; and we have no reason to expect that he will act in the same way when subjected to the same stimulus, unless we know that the internal and external conditions pertaining to him are also the same. Furthermore, even if we cannot predict what a certain individual will do, when exposed to a certain external influence, because of some differences in his mental and physical condition, on one occasion in comparison with another, yet when we consider large groups of men, we know that individual peculiarities, permanent and temporary, balance each other in great measure; that the average condition of a group of men is less changeable than that of one man, and that the degree of permanency of condition increases with the number of men in the group. From this we may reasonably conclude that, if we know the character of a man--or a group of men--and if we know also the line of action which he--or they-have followed in the past, we shall be able to predict his--or their--line of action in the future with considerable accuracy; and that the accuracy will increase with the number of men in the group, and the length of time during which they have followed the known line of action. Le Bon says: "Every race carries in its mental constitution the laws of its destiny." Therefore, the line of action that the entire human race has followed during the centuries of the past is a good index--or at least the best index that we have--to its line of action during the centuries of the future. Now, men have been on this earth for many years; and history and psychology teach us that in their intercourse with each other, their conduct has been caused by a combination of many forces, among which are certain powerful forces that tend to create strife. The strongest by far of these forces is the _ego_ in man himself, a quality divinely implanted which makes a man in a measure self-protecting. This ego prompts a man not only to seek pleasure and avoid trouble for himself, but also to gain superiority, and, if possible, the mastery over his fellow men. Men being placed in life in close juxtaposition to each other, the struggles of each man to advance his own interests produce rivalries, jealousies, and conflicts. Similarly with nations. Nations have been composed for the most part of people having an heredity more or less common to them all, so that they are bound together as great clans. From this it has resulted that nations have been jealous of each other and have combated each other. They have been doing this since history began, and are doing it as much as ever now. In fact, mankind have been in existence for so many centuries, and their physical, moral, mental, and spiritual characteristics were so evidently implanted in them by the Almighty, that it seems difficult to see how any one, except the Almighty himself, can change these characteristics and their resulting conduct. It is a common saying that a man cannot lift himself over the fence by his boot straps, though he can jump over the fence, if it is not too high. This saying recognizes the fact that "a material system can do no work on itself"; but needs external aid. When a man pulls upward on his boot straps, the upward force that he exerts is exactly balanced by the downward reaction exerted by his boot straps; but when he jumps, the downward thrust of his legs causes an equal reaction of the earth, which exerts a direct force upward upon the man; and it is this external force that moves him over the fence. It is this external force, the reaction of the earth or air or water, which moves every animal that walks, or bird that flies, or fish that swims. It is the will of the Almighty, acting through the various stimuli of nature, that causes the desire to walk, and all the emotions and actions of men. If He shall cause any new force to act on men, their line of conduct will surely change. But if He does not--how can it change, or be changed; how can the human race turn about, by means of its own power only, and move in a direction the reverse from that in which it has been moving throughout all the centuries of the past? These considerations seem to indicate that nations, regarded in their relation toward each other, will go on in the direction in which they have been going unless acted upon by some external force. Will civilization, commerce, or Christianity impart that force? Inasmuch as civilization is merely a condition in which men live, and an expression of their history, character and aims, it is difficult to see how it could of itself act as an external force, or cause an external force to act. "Institutions and laws," says Le Bon, again, "are the outward manifestation of our character, the expression of its needs. Being its outcome, institutions and laws cannot change this character." Even if the civilization of a given nation may have been brought about in some degree by forces external to that nation, yet it is clear that we must regard that civilization rather as the result of those forces than as a force itself. Besides, civilization has never yet made the relations of nations with each other more unselfish, civilized nations now and in the past, despite their veneer of courtesy, being fully as jealous of each other as the most savage tribes. That this should be so seems natural; because civilization has resulted mainly from the attempts of individuals and groups to enhance the pleasures and diminish the ills of life, and therefore cannot tend to unselfishness in either individuals or nations. Civilization in the past has not operated to soften the relations of nations with each other, so why should it do so now? Is not modern civilization, with its attendant complexities, rivalries, and jealousies, provocative of quarrels rather than the reverse? In what respect is modern civilization better than past civilization, except in material conveniences due to material improvements in the mechanic arts? Are we any more artistic, strong, or beautiful than the Greeks in their palmy days? Are we braver than the Spartans, more honest than the Chinese, more spiritual than the Hindoos, more religious than the Puritans? Is not the superior civilization of the present day a mechanical civilization pure and simple? And has not the invention of electrical and mechanical appliances, with the resulting insuring of communication and transportation, and the improvements in instruments of destruction, advantaged the great nations more than the weaker ones, and increased the temptation to great nations to use force rather than decreased it? Do not civilization's improvements in weapons of destruction augment the effectiveness of warlike methods, as compared with the peaceful methods of argument and persuasion? Diplomacy is an agency of civilization that was invented to avoid war, to enable nations to accommodate themselves to each other without going to war; but, practically, diplomacy seems to have caused almost as many wars as it has averted. And even if it be granted that the influence of diplomacy has been in the main for peace rather than for war, we know that diplomacy has been in use for centuries, that its resources are well understood, and that they have all been tried out many times; and therefore we ought to realize clearly that diplomacy cannot introduce any new force into international politics now, or exert, an influence for peace that will be more potent in the future than the influence that it has exerted in the past. These considerations seem to show that we cannot reasonably expect civilization to divert nations from the path they have followed hitherto. Can commerce impart the external force necessary to divert nations from that path? Since commerce bears exactly the same relation to nations now as in times past, and since it is an agency within mankind itself, it is difficult to see how it can act as an external force, or cause an external force to be applied. Of course, commercial interests are often opposed to national interests, and improvements in speed and sureness of communication and transportation increase the size and power of commercial organizations. But the same factors increase the power of governments and the solidarity of nations. At no time in the past has there been more national feeling in nations than now. Even the loosely held provinces of China are forming a Chinese nation. Despite the fundamental commercialism of the age, national spirit is growing more intense, the present war being the main intensifying cause. It is true that the interests of commerce are in many ways antagonistic to those of war. But, on the other hand, of all the causes that occasion war the economic causes are the greatest. For no thing will men fight more savagely than for money; for no thing have men fought more savagely than for money; and the greater the rivalry, the more the man's life becomes devoted to it, and the more fiercely he will fight to get or keep it. Surely of all the means by which we hope to avoid war, the most hopeless by far is commerce. The greatest of all hopes is in Christianity, because of its inculcation of love and kindliness, its obvious influence on the individual in cultivating unselfishness and other peaceful virtues, and the fact that it is an inspiration from on high, and therefore a force external to mankind. But let us look the facts solemnly in the face that the Christian religion has now been in effect for nearly two thousand years; that the nations now warring are Christian nations, in the very foremost rank of Christendom; that never in history has there been so much bloodshed in such wide-spread areas and so much hate, and that we see no signs that Christianity is employing any influence that she has not been employing for nearly two thousand years. If we look for the influence of Christianity, we can find it in the daily lives of people, in the family, in business, in politics, and in military bodies; everywhere, in fact, in Christian countries, so long as we keep inside of any organization the members of which feel bound together. This we must all admit, even the heathen know it; but where do we see any evidence of the sweetening effect of Christianity in the dealings of one organization with another with which it has no special bonds of friendship? Christianity is invoked in every warring nation now to stimulate the patriotic spirit of the nation and intensify the hate of the crowd against the enemy; and even if we think that such invoking is a perversion of religious influence to unrighteous ends, we must admit the fact that the Christian religion itself is at this moment being made to exert a powerful influence--not toward peace but toward war! And this should not amaze us; for where does the Bible say or intimate that love among nations will ever be brought about? The Saviour said: "I bring not peace but a sword." So what reasonable hope does even Christianity give us that war between nations will cease? And even if it did give reasonable hope, let us realize that between reasonable hope and reasonable expectation there is a great gulf fixed. Therefore, we seem forced to the conclusion that the world will move in the future in the same direction as in the past; that nations will become larger and larger and fewer and fewer, the immediate instrument of international changes being war; and that certain nations will become very powerful and nearly dominate the earth in turn, as Persia, Greece, Rome, Spain, France, and Great Britain have done--and as some other country soon may do. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, a certain law of decadence seems to have prevailed, because of which every nation, after acquiring great power, has in turn succumbed to the enervating effects which seem inseparable from it, and become the victim of some newer nation that has made strenuous preparations for long years, in secret, and finally pounced upon her as a lion on its prey. Were it not for this tendency to decadence, we should expect that the nations of the earth would ultimately be divided into two great nations, and that these would contend for the mastery in a world-wide struggle. But if the present rate of invention and development continues, improvements in the mechanic arts will probably cause such increase in the power of weapons of destruction, and in the swiftness and sureness of transportation and communication, that some _monster of efficiency_ will have time to acquire world mastery before her period of decadence sets in. In this event, wars will be of a magnitude besides which the present struggle will seem pygmy; and will rage over the surface of the earth, for the gaining and retaining of the mastery of the world. CHAPTER II NAVAL A, B, C In order to realize what principles govern the use of navies, let us first consider what navies have to do and get history's data as to what navies in the past have done. It would obviously be impossible to recount here all the doings of navies. But neither is it necessary; for the reason that, throughout the long periods of time in which history records them, their activities have nearly always been the same. In all cases in which navies have been used for war there was the preliminary dispute, often long-continued, between two peoples or their rulers, and at last the decision of the dispute by force. In all cases the decision went to the side that could exert the most force at the critical times and places. The fact that the causes of war have been civil, and not military, demands consideration, for the reason that some people, confusing cause and effect, incline to the belief that armies and navies are the cause of war, and that they are to be blamed for its horrors. History clearly declares the contrary, and shows that the only rôle of armies and navies has been to wage wars, and, by waging, to finish them. It may be well here, in order to clear away a possible preconception by the reader, to try and dispel the illusion that army and navy officers are eager for war, in order that they may get promotion. This idea has been exploited by people opposed to the development of the army and navy, and has been received with so much credulity that it seriously handicaps the endeavors of officers to get an unbiassed hearing. But surely the foolishness of such an idea would promptly disappear from the brain of any one if he would remind himself that simply because a man joins the army or navy he does not cease to be a human being, with the same emotions of fear as other men, the same sensitiveness to pain, the same dread of death, and the same horror of leaving his family unsupported after his death. It is true that men in armies and navies are educated to dare death if need be; but the present writer has been through two wars, has been well acquainted with army and navy officers for forty-five years, and knows positively that, barring exceptions, they do not desire war at all. Without going into an obviously impossible discussion of all naval wars, it may be instructive to consider briefly the four naval wars in which the United States has engaged. The first was the War of the American Revolution. This war is instructive to those who contend that the United States is so far from Europe as to be safe from attack by a European fleet; because the intervening distance was frequently traversed then by British and French fleets of frail, slow, sailing ships, which were vital factors in the war. Without the British war-ships, the British could not have landed and supported their troops. Without the French war-ships the French could not have landed and supported their troops, who, under Rochambeau, were also under Washington, and gave him the assistance that he wofully needed, to achieve by arms our independence. The War of 1812 is instructive from the fact that, though the actions of our naval ships produced little material effect, the skill, daring, and success with which they were fought convinced Europeans of the high character and consequent noble destiny of the American people. The British were so superior in sea strength, however, that they were able to send their fleet across the ocean and land a force on the shores of Chesapeake Bay. This force marched to Washington, attacked the city, and burned the Capitol and other public buildings, with little inconvenience to itself. The War of the Rebellion is instructive because it shows how two earnest peoples, each believing themselves right, can be forced, by the very sincerity of their convictions, to wage war against each other; and because it shows how unpreparedness for war, with its accompanying ignorance of the best way in which to wage it, causes undue duration of a war and therefore needless suffering. If the North had not closed its eyes so resolutely to the fact of the coming struggle, it would have noted beforehand that the main weakness of the Confederacy lay in its dependence on revenue from cotton and its inability to provide a navy that could prevent a blockade of its coasts; and the North would have early instituted a blockade so tight that the Confederacy would have been forced to yield much sooner than it did. The North would have made naval operations the main effort, instead of the auxiliary effort; and would have substituted for much of the protracted and bloody warfare of the land the quickly decisive and comparatively merciful warfare of the sea. In the Spanish War the friction between the United States and Spain was altogether about Cuba. No serious thought of the invasion of either country was entertained, no invasion was attempted, and the only land engagements were some minor engagements in Cuba and the Philippines. The critical operations were purely naval. In the first of these, Commodore Dewey's squadron destroyed the entire Far Eastern squadron of the Spanish in Manila Bay; in the second, Admiral Sampson's squadron destroyed the entire Atlantic squadron of the Spanish near Santiago de Cuba. The two naval victories compelled Spain to make terms of peace practically as the United States wished. Attention is invited to the fact that this war was not a war of conquest, was not a war of aggression, was not a war of invasion, was not a war carried on by either side for any base purpose; but was in its intention and its results for the benefit of mankind. The Russo-Japanese War was due to conflicting national policies. While each side accused the other of selfish ends, it is not apparent to a disinterested observer that either was unduly selfish in its policy, or was doing more than every country ought to advance the interests and promote the welfare of its people. Russia naturally had a great deal of interest in Manchuria, and felt that she had a right to expand through the uncivilized regions of Manchuria, especially since she needed a satisfactory outlet to the sea. In other words, the interests of Russia were in the line of its expanding to the eastward. But Japan's interests were precisely the reverse of Russia's--that is, Japan's interests demanded that Russia should not do those things that Russia wanted to do. Japan felt that Russia's movement toward the East was bringing her entirely too close to Japan. Russia was too powerful a country, and too aggressive, to be trusted so close. Japan had the same feeling toward Russia that any man might have on seeing another man, heavily armed, gradually coming closer to him in the night. Japan especially wished that Russia should have no foothold in Corea, feeling, as she expressed it, that the point of Corea under Russian power would be a dagger directed at the heart of Japan. This feeling about Corea was the same feeling that every country has about land near her; it has a marked resemblance to the feeling that the United States has embodied in Monroe Doctrine. After several years of negotiation in which Japan and Russia endeavored to secure their respective aims by diplomacy, diplomacy was finally abandoned and the sword taken up instead. Japan, _because of the superior foresight of her statesmen_, was the first to realize that diplomacy must fail, was the first to realize that she must prepare for war, was the first to begin adequate preparation for war, was the first to complete preparation for war, was the first to strike, and in consequence was the victor. Yet Russia was a very much larger, richer, more populous country than Japan. Russia sent large forces of soldiers to Manchuria by the trans-Siberian railroad, and Japan sent large forces there by transports across the Sea of Japan. Japan could not prevent the passage of soldiers by the railroad, but Russia could prevent the passage of transports across the Japan Sea, provided her fleet could overcome the Japanese fleet and get command of the sea. Russia had a considerable fleet in the Far East; but she had so underestimated the naval ability of the Japanese, that the Russian fleet proved unequal to the task; and the Japanese gradually reduced it to almost nothing, with very little loss to themselves. Russia then sent out another fleet. The Japanese met this fleet on the 27th of May, 1904, near the Island of Tsushima, between Corea and Japan. The battle was decided in about an hour. The Japanese sank practically all the Russian ships before the battle was entirely finished, with comparatively small loss to Japan. This battle was carried on 12,000 miles by sea route from Saint Petersburg. No invasion of Russia or Japan was contemplated, or attempted, and yet the naval battle decided the issue of the war completely, and was followed by a treaty of peace very shortly afterward. These wars show us, as do all wars in which navies have engaged, that the function of a navy is not only to defend the coast in the sense of preventing an enemy from landing on it, but also to exert force far distant from the coast. The study of war has taught its students for many centuries that a merely passive defense will finally be broken down, and that the most effective defense is the "offensive-defensive." Perhaps the clearest case of a correct offensive-defensive is Nelson's defense of England, which he carried on in the Mediterranean, in the West Indies, and wherever the enemy fleet might be, finally defeating Napoleon's plan for invading England--not by waiting off the coast of England, but by attacking and crippling Napoleon's fleet off the Spanish coast near Trafalgar. The idea held by many people that the defense of a country can be effected by simply preventing the invasion of its coasts, is a little like the notion of uneducated people that a disease can be cured by suppressing its symptoms. For even a successful defense of a coast against invasion by a hostile force cannot remove the inimical influence to a country's commerce and welfare which that hostile force exerts, any more than palliatives can cure dyspepsia. Every intelligent physician knows that the only way to cure a disease is to remove its cause; and every intelligent military or naval man knows that history teaches that the only way in which a country can defend itself successfully against an enemy is to defeat the armed force of that enemy--be it a force of soldiers on the land, or a force of war-ships on the sea. In naval parlance, "our objective is the enemy's fleet." If the duty of a navy be merely to prevent the actual invasion of its country's coasts, a great mistake has been made by Great Britain, France, and other countries in spending so much money on their navies, and in giving so much attention to the education and training of their officers and enlisted men. To prevent actual invasion would be comparatively an easy task, one that could be performed by rows of forts along the coast, supplemented by mines and submarines. If that is the only kind of defense required, navies are hardly needed. The army in each country could man the forts and operate the mines, and a special corps of the army could even operate the submarines, which (if their only office is to prevent actual invasion) need hardly leave the "three-mile limit" that skirts the coasts. If the people of any country do not care to have dealings outside; if the nation is willing to be in the position of a man who is safe so long as he stays in the house, but is afraid to go outdoors, the problem of national defense is easy. But if the people desire to prevent interference with what our Constitution calls "the general welfare," the problem becomes exceedingly complex and exceedingly grave--more complex and grave than any other problem that they have. If they desire that their ships shall be free to sail the seas, and their citizens to carry on business and to travel in other lands; and if they desire that their merchants shall be able to export their wares and their farmers their grain, also that the people shall be able to import the things they wish from foreign countries, then they must be able to exert actual physical force on the ocean at any point where vessels carrying their exports and imports may be threatened. Naval ships are the only means for doing this. The possibility that an armed force sent to a given point at sea might have to fight an enemy force, brought about first the sending of more than one vessel, and later--as the mechanic arts progressed--the increasing of the size of individual vessels, and later still the development of novel types. There are two main reasons for building a small number of large ships rather than a large number of small ships. The first reason is that large ships are much more steady, reliable, safe, and fast than small ships. The second reason is that, when designed for any given speed, the large ships have more space available for whatever is to be carried; one 15-knot ship of 20,000 tons normal displacement, for instance, has about one and a half times as much space available for cargo, guns, and what-not, as four 15-knot ships of 5,000 tons each. These two reasons apply to merchant ships as well as naval ships. A third reason applies to naval vessels only, and is that a few large ships can be handled much better together than a large number of small ships, and embody that "concentration of force" which it is the endeavor of strategy and tactics to secure. A fourth reason is the obvious one that large ships can carry larger guns than small ships. The distinctly military (naval) purpose for which a war-ship is designed necessitates, first, that in addition to her ability to go rapidly and surely from place to place, she be able to exert physical force against an enemy ship or fort, and, second, that she have protection against the fire of guns and torpedoes from enemy ships and forts, against bombs dropped from aircraft, and against mines. This means that a man-of-war, intended to exert the maximum of physical force against an enemy and to be able to withstand the maximum of punishment, must have guns and torpedoes for offense, and must have armor and cellular division of the hull for defense; the armor to keep out the enemy's shells, and the cellular division of the hull to prevent the admission of more water than can fill one water-tight compartment in case the ship is hit. It must be admitted here that, at the present moment, torpedoes hold such large charges of explosive that the cellular division of ships does not adequately protect them. This means that a contest has been going on between torpedo-makers and naval constructors like the contest between armor-makers and gunmakers, and that just now the torpedo-makers are in the lead. For this reason a battleship needs other protection than that imparted by its cellular subdivision. This is given by its "torpedo defense battery" of minor guns of about 5-inch calibre. By reason of the great vulnerability of all ships to attack below the water-line, the torpedo was invented and developed. In its original form, the torpedo was motionless in the water, either anchored to the ground, or floating on the surface, and was in fact what now is called a "mine." But forty-eight years ago an Englishman named Whitehead invented the automobile, auto-steering, torpedo, which still bears his name. This torpedo is used in all the navies, and is launched on its mission from battleships, battle cruisers, destroyers, submarines, and other craft of various kinds. Most torpedoes are to be found in destroyers--long, fast, frail vessels, averaging about 700 tons displacement, that are intended to dash at enemy ships at night, or under other favorable conditions, launch their torpedoes, and hurry away. The torpedo is "a weapon of opportunity." It has had a long, slow fight for its existence; but its success during the present war has established it firmly in naval warfare. The submarine has followed the destroyer, and some people think will supplant it; though its relatively slow speed prevents those dashes that are the destroyer's rôle. The submarine is, however, a kind of destroyer that is submersible, in which the necessities of submersibility preclude great speed. The submarine was designed to accomplish a clear and definite purpose--a secret under-water attack on an enemy's ship in the vicinity. It has succeeded so well in its limited mission that some intelligent people declare that we need submarines only--ignoring the fact that, even if submarines could successfully prevent actual invasion, they could not carry on operations at a distance from their base of supplies. It is true that submarines may be made so large that they can steam at great speed from place to place, as capital ships steam now, carry large supplies of fuel and food, house their crews hygienically, and need no "mother ship" or tender. But if submarines achieve such size, they will be more expensive to build and run than battleships--and will be, in fact, submersible battleships. In other words, the submarine cannot displace the battleship, but may be developed and evolved into a new and highly specialized type of battleship. The necessity for operating at long distances from a base carries with it the necessity for supplying more fuel than even a battleship can carry; and this means that colliers must be provided. In most countries, the merchant service is so large that colliers can be taken from it, but in the United States no adequate merchant marine exists, and so it is found necessary to build navy colliers and have them in the fleet. The necessity for continuously supplying food and ammunition to the fleet necessitates supply ships and ammunition ships; but the problem of supplying food and ammunition is not so difficult as that of supplying fuel, for the reason that they are consumed more slowly. In order to take care of the sick and wounded, and prevent them from hampering the activities of the well, hospital ships are needed. Hospital ships should, of course, be designed for that purpose before being constructed; but usually hospital ships were originally passenger ships, and were adapted to hospital uses later. The menace of the destroyer--owing to the sea-worthiness which this type has now achieved, and to the great range which the torpedo has acquired--has brought about the necessity of providing external protection to the battleships; and this is supplied by a "screen" of cruisers and destroyers, whose duty is to keep enemy destroyers and (so far as is practicable) the submarines at a safe distance. We now see why a fleet must be composed of various types of vessels. At the present moment, the battleship is the primary, or paramount type, the others secondary, because the battleship is the type that can exert the most force, stand the hardest punishment, steam the farthest in all kinds of weather, and in general, serve her country the best. Of course, "battleship" is merely a name, and some think not a very good name, to indicate a ship that can take the part in battle that used to be taken by the "ship of the line." The reason for its primacy is fundamental: its displacement or total weight--the same reason that assured the primacy of the ship of the line. For displacement rules the waves; if "Britannia rules the waves," it is simply because Britannia has more displacement than any other Power. The fleet needs to have a means of knowing where the enemy is, how many ships he has, what is their character, the direction in which they are steaming, and their speed. To accomplish this purpose, "scouts" are needed--fast ships, that can steam far in all kinds of weather and send wireless messages across great distances. So far as their scout duties go, such vessels need no guns whatever, and no torpedoes; but because the enemy will see the scout as soon as the scout sees the enemy, and because the enemy will try to drive away the scout by gun and torpedo fire, the scouts must be armed. And this necessity is reinforced by the necessity of driving off an enemy's scouts. In foreign navies the need for getting information in defiance of an enemy's attempts to prevent it, and to drive off the armed scouts of an enemy, has been one of the prime reasons for developing "battle cruisers," that combine the speed of the destroyer with the long steaming radius of the battleship, a battery almost as strong, and a very considerable protection by armor. The aeroplane and the air-ship are recent accessions to the list of fighting craft. Their rôle in naval warfare cannot yet be defined, because the machines themselves have not yet reached an advanced stage of development, and their probable performance cannot be forecast. There is no doubt, however, in the minds of naval men that the rôle of aircraft is to be important and distinguished. CHAPTER III NAVAL POWER Mahan proved that sea power has exercised a determining influence on history. He proved that sea power has been necessary for commercial success in peace and military success in war. He proved that, while many wars have culminated with the victory of some army, the victory of some navy had been the previous essential. He proved that the immediate cause of success had often resulted inevitably from another cause, less apparent because more profound; that the operations of the navy had previously brought affairs up to the "mate in four moves," and that the final victory of the army was the resulting "checkmate." Before Mahan proved his doctrine, it was felt in a general way that sea power was necessary to the prosperity and security of a nation. Mahan was not the first to have this idea, for it had been in the minds of some men, and in the policy of one nation, for more than a century. Neither was Mahan the first to put forth the idea in writing; but he was the first to make an absolute demonstration of the truth. Newton was not the first man to know, or to say, that things near the earth tend to fall to the earth; but he was the first to formulate and prove the doctrine of universal gravitation. In the same way, all through history, we find that a few master minds have been able to group what had theretofore seemed unrelated phenomena, and deduce from them certain laws. In this way they substituted reasoning for speculation, fact for fancy, wisdom for opportunism, and became the guides of the human race. The effect of the acceptance of Mahan's doctrine was felt at once. Realizing that the influence of sea power was a fact, comprehending Great Britain's secret, after Mahan had disclosed it, certain other great nations of the world, especially Germany, immediately started with confidence and vigor upon the increase of their own sea power, and pushed it to a degree before unparalleled; with a result that must have been amazing to the man who, more than any other, was responsible for it. Since the words "sea power," or their translation, is a recognized phrase the world over, and since the power of sea power is greater than ever before, and is still increasing, it may be profitable to consider sea power as an entity, and to inquire what are its leading characteristics, and in what it mainly consists. There is no trouble in defining what the sea is, but there is a good deal of trouble in defining what power is. If we look in a dictionary, we shall find a good many definitions of power; so many as to show that there are many different kinds of power, and that when we read of "power," it is necessary to know what kind of power is meant. Clearly "sea power" means power on the sea. But what kind of power? There are two large classes into which power may be divided, passive and active. Certainly we seem justified, at the start, in declaring that the power meant by Mahan was not passive, but active. Should this be granted, we cannot be far from right if we go a step further, and declare that sea power means ability to do something on the sea. If we ask what the something is that sea power has ability to do, we at once perceive that sea power may be divided into two parts, commercial power and naval power. The power exerted by commercial sea power is clearly that exerted by the merchant service, and is mainly the power of acquiring money. It is true that the merchant service has the power of rendering certain services in war, especially the power of providing auxiliary vessels, and of furnishing men accustomed to the sea; but as time goes on the power contributable by the merchant service must steadily decrease, because of the relatively increasing power of the naval service, and the rapidly increasing difference between the characteristics of ships and men suitable for the merchant service and those suitable for the naval service. But even in the past, while the importance of the merchant service was considerable in the ways just outlined, it may perhaps be questioned whether it formed an element of _sea power_, in the sense in which Mahan discussed sea power. The power of every country depends on all the sources of its wealth: on its agriculture, on its manufacturing activities, and even more directly on the money derived from exports. But these sources of wealth and all sources of wealth, including the merchant service, can hardly be said to be elements of power themselves, but rather to be elements for whose protection power is required. In fact, apart from its usefulness in furnishing auxiliaries, it seems certain that the merchant service has been an element of _weakness_. The need for navies arose from the weakness of merchant ships and the corresponding necessity for assuring them safe voyages and proper treatment even in time of peace; while in time of war they have always been an anxious care, and have needed and received the protection of fighting ships that have been taken away from the fleet to act as convoys. If commercial sea power was not the power meant by Mahan, then he must have meant naval power. And if one reads the pages of history with patient discrimination, the conviction must grow on him that what really constituted the sea power which had so great an influence on history, was _naval_ power; not the power of simply ships upon the sea, but the power of a navy composed of ships able to fight, manned by men trained to fight, under the command of captains skilled to fight, and led by admirals determined to fight. Trafalgar was not won by the merchant service; nor Mobile, Manila, or Tsushima. If sea power be essentially naval power, it may be interesting to inquire: In what does naval power consist and what are its principal characteristics? If one looks at a fleet of war-ships on the sea, he will be impressed consciously or unconsciously with the idea of power. If he is impressed consciously, he will see that the fleet represents power in the broadest sense--power active and power passive; power to do and power to endure; power to exert force and power to resist it. If he goes further and analyzes the reasons for this impression of power, he will see that it is not merely a mental suggestion, but a realization of the actual existence of tremendous mechanical power, under complete direction and control. In mechanics we get a definition of power, which, like all definitions in mechanics, is clear, definite, and correct. In mechanics, power is the rate at which mechanical work is performed. It is ability to do something in a certain definite time. Now this definition gives us a clear idea of the way in which a navy directly represents power, because the power which a navy exerts is, primarily, mechanical; and any other power which it exerts is secondary and derived wholly from its mechanical power. The power of a gun is due wholly to the mechanical energy of its projectile, which enables it to penetrate a resisting body; and the power of a moving ship is due wholly to the mechanical energy of the burning coal within its furnaces. It may be objected that it is not reasonable to consider a ship's energy of motion as an element of naval power, in the mechanical sense in which we have been using the word "power," for the reason that it could be exerted only by the use of her ram, an infrequent use. To this it may be answered that energy is energy, no matter to what purpose it is applied; that a given projectile going at a given speed has a certain energy, whether it strikes its target or misses it; and that a battleship going at a certain speed must necessarily have a certain definite energy, no matter whether it is devoted to ramming another ship or to carrying itself and its contents from one place to another. Besides the mechanical power exerted by the mere motion of the ship, and often superior to it, there is the power of her guns and torpedoes. Perhaps the most important single invention ever made was the invention of gunpowder. Why? Because it put into the hands of man a tremendous force, compressed into a very small volume, which he could use instantaneously or refrain from using at his will. Its first use was in war; and in war has been its main employment ever since. War gives the best field for the activity of gunpowder, because in war, we always wish to exert a great force at a definite point at a given instant; usually in order to _penetrate_ the bodies of men, or some defensive work that protects them. Gunpowder is the principal agent used in war up to the present date. It is used by both armies and navies, but navies use it in larger masses, fired in more powerful guns. Of course this does not mean that it would be impossible to send a lot of powder to a fort, more than a fleet could carry, and fire it; but it does mean that history shows that forts have rarely been called upon to fire much powder, that their lives have been serene, and that most of the powder fired on shore has been fired by infantry using muskets--though a good deal has been fired by field and siege artillery. Leaving forts out of consideration and searching for something else in which to use gunpowder on a large scale, we come to siege-pieces, field-pieces, and muskets. Disregarding siege-pieces and field-pieces, for the reason that the great variety of types makes it difficult to compare them with navy guns, we come to muskets. Now the musket is an extremely formidable weapon, and has, perhaps, been the greatest single contributor to the victory of civilization over barbarism, and order over anarchy, that has ever existed up to the present time. But the enormous advances in engineering, including ordnance, during the last fifty years, have reduced enormously the relative value of the musket. Remembering that energy, or the ability to do work, is expressed by the formula: E=1/2 MV^2, remembering that the projectile of the modern 12-inch gun starts at about 2,900 f. s. velocity and weighs 867 pounds, while the bullet of a musket weighs only 150 grains and starts with a velocity of 2,700 feet per second, we see that the energy of the 12-inch projectile is about 47,000 times that of the bullet on leaving the muzzle. But after the bullet has gone, say 5,000 yards, its energy has fallen to zero, while the energy of the 12-inch projectile is nearly the same as when it started. While it would be truthful, therefore, to say that the energy of the 12-inch gun within 5,000 yards is greater than that of 47,000 muskets, it would also be truthful to say that outside of 5,000 yards, millions of muskets would not be equal to one 12-inch gun. Not only is the 12-inch gun a weapon incomparably great, compared with the musket, but when placed in a naval ship, it possesses a portability which, while not an attribute of the gun itself, is an attribute of the combination of gun and ship, and a distinct attribute of naval power. A 12-inch gun placed in a fort may be just as good as a like gun placed in a ship, but it has no power to exert its power usefully unless some enemy comes where the gun can hit it. And when one searches the annals of history for the records of whatever fighting forts have done, he finds that they have been able to do very little. But a 12-inch gun placed in a man-of-war can be taken where it is needed, and recent history shows that naval 12-inch guns, modern though they are, have already done effective work in war. Not only are 12-inch guns powerful and portable, but modern mechanical science has succeeded in so placing them in our ships that they can be handled with a precision, quickness, and delicacy that have no superior in any other branch of engineering. While granting the difficulty of an exact comparison, I feel no hesitation in affirming that the greatest triumph of the engineering art in handling heavy masses is to be found in the turret of a battleship. Here again, and even inside of 5,000 yards, we find the superiority of the great gun over the musket, as evidenced by its accuracy in use. No soldier can fire his musket, even on a steady platform, himself and target stationary, and the range known perfectly, as accurately as a gun-pointer can fire a 12-inch gun; and if gun and target be moving, and the wind be blowing, and the range only approximately known, as is always the case in practice, the advantage of the big gun in accuracy becomes incomparable. But it is not only the big projectile itself which has energy, for this projectile carries a large charge of high explosive, which exploding some miles away from where it started, exerts a power inherent in itself, that was exhibited with frightful effect at the battles of Tsushima and the Skagerak. This brings us to the auto-torpedo, a weapon recently perfected; in fact not perfected yet. Here is another power that science has put into the hands of naval men in addition to those she had already put there. The auto-torpedo, launched in security from below the water-line of the battleship, or from a destroyer or submarine, can be directed in a straight line over a distance and with a speed that are constantly increasing with the improvement of the weapon. At the present moment, a speed of 27 knots over 10,000 yards can be depended on, with a probability that on striking an enemy's ship below the water-line it will disable that ship, if not sink her. There seems no doubt that, in a very few years, the systematic experiments now being applied to the development of the torpedo will result in a weapon which can hardly be called inferior to the 12-inch or even 16-inch gun and will probably surpass it. _Controllability_.--If one watches a fleet of ships moving on the sea, he gets an impression of tremendous power. But if he watches Niagara, or a thunder-storm, he also gets an impression of tremendous power. But the tremendous power of Niagara, or the thunder-storm, is a power that belongs to Niagara or the thunder-storm, and not to man. Man cannot control the power of Niagara or the thunder-storm; but he can control the power of a fleet. Speaking, then, from the standpoint of the human being, one may say that the fleet has the element of controllability, while Niagara and the thunder-storm have not. One man can make the fleet go faster or slower or stop; he can increase its power of motion or decrease it at his will; he can reduce it to zero. He cannot do so with the forces of nature. _Directability_.--Not only can one man control the power of the fleet, he can also direct it; that is, can turn it to the right or the left as much as he wishes. But one man cannot change the direction of motion of Niagara or the lightning-bolt. _Power, Controllability, and Directability_.--We may say, then, that a fleet combines the three elements of mechanical power, controllability, and directability. _The Unit of Military Power_.--This is an enormous power that has come into the hands of the naval nations; but it has come so newly that we do not appreciate it yet. One reason why we do not and cannot appreciate it correctly is that no units have been established by which to measure it. To supply this deficiency, the author begs leave to point out that, since the military power of every nation has until recently been its army, of which the unit has been the soldier, whose power has rested wholly in his musket, the musket has actually been the unit of military power. In all history, the statement of the number of men in each army has been put forward by historians as giving the most accurate idea of their fighting value; and in modern times, nearly all of these men have been armed with muskets only. It has been said already that the main reason why the invention of gunpowder was so important was that it put into the hands of man a tremendous mechanical power compressed into a very small space, which man could use or not use at his will. This idea may be expressed by saying that gunpowder combines power and great controllability. But it was soon discovered that this gunpowder, put into a tube with a bullet in front of it, could discharge that bullet in any given direction. A musket was the result, and it combined the three requisites of a weapon--mechanical power, controllability, and directability. While the loaded gun is perhaps the clearest example of the combination of the three factors we are speaking of, the moving ship supplies the next best example. It has very much greater mechanical power; and in proportion to its mass, almost as much controllability and directability. The control and direction of a moving ship are very wonderful things; but the very ease with which they are exercised makes us overlook the magnitude of the achievement and the perfection of the means employed. It may seem absurd to speak of one man controlling and directing a great ship, but that is pretty nearly what happens sometimes; for sometimes the man at the wheel is the only man on board doing anything at all; and he is absolutely directing the entire ship. At such times (doubtless they are rare and short) the man at the wheel on board, say the _Vaterland_, is directing unassisted by any human being a mass of 65,000 tons, which is going through the water at a speed of 24 knots, or 27 miles, an hour, nearly as fast as the average passenger-train. In fact, it would be very easy to arrange on board the _Vaterland_ that this should actually happen; that everybody should take a rest for a few minutes, coal-passers, water-tenders, oilers, engineers, and the people on deck. And while such an act might have no particular value, _per se_, and prove nothing important, yet, nevertheless, a brief reflection on the possibility may be interesting, and lead us to see clearly into the essential nature of what is here called "directability." The man at the wheel on board the _Vaterland_, so long as the fires burn and the oil continues to lubricate the engines, has a power in his hands that is almost inconceivable. The ship that he is handling weighs more than the 870,000 men that comprise the standing army of Germany. Now can anybody imagine the entire standing army of Germany being carried along at 27 miles an hour and turned almost instantly to the right or left by one man? The standing army of Germany is supposed to be the most directable organization in the world; but could the Emperor of Germany move that army at a speed of 27 miles an hour and turn it as a whole (not its separate units) through 90 degrees in three minutes? The _Vaterland_ being a merchant ship and not fully representing naval power, perhaps it might be better to take, say, the _Pennsylvania_. The weight is about half that of the _Vaterland_, that is, it is nearly twice the weight of the men of the British standing army; and the usual speed is about, say, 15 knots. But in addition to all the power of the ship, as a ship, or an energy greater than that of 275,000 muskets, she has the power of all the guns, twelve 14-inch guns, and twenty-two 5-inch guns, whose projectiles, not including the torpedoes fired from four torpedo-tubes, have an energy at the muzzle equal to 750,000 muskets, seven-eighths of all the muskets in the German standing army. Now any one who has seen a battleship at battle practice knows that all the various tremendous forces are under excellent direction and control. And while it cannot be strictly said that they are absolutely under the direction and control of the captain, while it must be admitted that no one man can really direct so many rapidly moving things, yet it is certainly well within the truth to say that the ship and all it contains are very much more under the control of her captain than the German standing army is under the control of the Kaiser. The captain, acting through the helmsman, chief engineer, gunnery officer, and executive officer, can get very excellent information as to what is going on, and can have his orders carried out with very little delay; but the mere space occupied by an army of 870,000 men, and the unavoidable dispersion of its units prevent any such exact control. In other words, the captain of the _Pennsylvania_ wields a weapon more mechanically powerful than all the muskets of the German standing army: and his control of it is more absolute than is the Kaiser's control of that army. _Mechanism vs. Men_.--Now what is the essential reason for the efficient direction exercised by the helmsman of the _Pennsylvania_, and the relative impotency of generals? Is it not that the helmsman acts through the medium of mechanism, while the generals act through the medium of men? A ship is not only made of rigid metal, but all her parts are fastened together with the utmost rigidity; while the parts of an army are men, who are held together by no means whatever except that which discipline gives, and the men themselves are far from rigid. In the nature of things it is impossible that an army should be directed as perfectly as a ship. The rudder of a ship is a mechanical appliance that can be depended upon to control the direction of the ship absolutely, while an army has no such a thing as a rudder, or anything to take its place. Again, the rudder is only a few hundred feet from the helmsman, and the communication between them, including the steering-engine itself, is a strong reliable mechanism that has no counterpart in the army. The control of the main engines of a ship is almost as absolute as the control of the rudder; and the main engines are not only much more powerful than the legs of soldiers, but they act together in much greater harmony. _Inherent Power of a Battleship_.--Possibly the declaration may be accepted now that a battleship of 30,000 tons, such as the navies are building now, with, say, twelve 14-inch guns is a greater example of power, under the absolute direction and control than anything else existing; and that the main reason is the concentration of a tremendous amount of mechanical energy in a very small space, all made available by certain properties of water. Nothing like a ship can be made to run on shore; but if an automobile could be constructed, carrying twelve 14-inch guns, twenty-two 5-inch guns, and four torpedo-tubes, of the size of the _Pennsylvania_, and with her armor, able to run over the land in any direction at 20 knots, propelled by engines of 31,000 horse-power, it could whip an army of a million men just as quickly as it could get hold of its component parts. Such a machine could start at one end of an army and go through to the other like a mowing-machine through a field of wheat; and knock down all the buildings in New York afterward, smash all the cars, break down all the bridges, and sink all the shipping. _Inherent Power of a Fleet_.--An idea of the power exertable by a fleet of modern ships may be derived from the following comparison. When Sherman made his wonderful march to the sea from Atlanta to Savannah, he made a march whose details are historically known, which was unopposed, which was over a flat country, in good weather, and without the aid of railroad-trains. It was a march, pure and simple; and inasmuch as men are the same now as they were then, it gives excellent data of the way in which purely military or army power can move from one place to another, _while still preserving its character and exercising its functions_. Similarly, when Admiral Schroeder, in November, 1910, went from the east coast of the United States to the English Channel, his march was unopposed, its details are known, and it gave an excellent illustration of how naval power can move from one place to another, _while still preserving its character and exercising its functions_. Now General Sherman was a man of world-wide fame, and so were some of his generals, and Sherman's fame will last for centuries. Compared with Sherman, Admiral Schroeder was obscure; and compared with Sherman's officers, Admiral Schroeder's were obscure. Sherman's soldiers, privates and all, were made glorious for the rest of their lives by having been in Sherman's march to the sea, while Admiral Schroeder's sailors achieved no glory at all. So, the next paragraph is not intended to detract in the slightest from Sherman and his army, but simply to point out the change in conditions that mechanical progress has brought about. The statement of comparison is simply that when General Sherman marched from Atlanta to the sea his army composed 62,000 men, and it took him twenty-five days to go about 230 land miles or 200 sea miles; and when Admiral Schroeder went from our coast to Europe he had 16 ships, and he made the trip of more than 3,000 sea miles in less than fourteen days. Disregarding twenty-eight 5-inch guns, two hundred and fifty-two 3-inch guns, and a lot of smaller guns, and disregarding all the torpedoes, Admiral Schroeder took eighty-four 12-inch guns, ninety-six 8-inch guns, eighty-eight 7-inch guns, and forty-eight 6-inch guns, _all mounted and available_; which, assuming the power of the modern musket as a unit, equalled more than 5,000,000 modern muskets. Such an enormous transfer of absolute, definite, available power would be impossible on land, simply because no means has been devised to accomplish it. Such a transfer on land would be the transfer of ninety times as many soldiers as Sherman had (even supposing they had modern muskets) over fifteen times the distance and at thirty times the speed; and as the work done in going from one place to another varies practically as the square of the speed, a transfer on land equivalent in magnitude and speed to Schroeder's would be a performance 90 x 15 x 30^2= 1,215,000 times as great as Sherman's. This may seem absurd, and perhaps it is; but why? The comparison is not between the qualities of the men or between the results achieved. Great results often are brought about by very small forces, as when some state of equilibrium is disturbed, and vice versa. The comparison attempted is simply between the _power_ of a certain army and the power of a certain fleet. And while it is true that, for some purposes, such as overcoming small resistance, great power may not be as efficacious as feeble power or even gentleness, yet, nevertheless, it must be clear that, for the overcoming of _great_ resistance quickly great power must be applied. The existence of a certain power is quite independent of the desirability of using it. The existence of the power is all the writer wishes to insist upon at present; the question of its employment will be considered later. Not only is the power of a fleet immeasurably greater than that of an army, but it must always be so, from the very nature of things. The speed of an army, _while exercising the functions of an army_, and the power of a musket, while exercising its functions as a weapon of one soldier, cannot change much from what they were when Sherman went marching through Georgia. But, thanks to mechanical science, there is no limit in sight to the power to which a fleet may attain. The power of a navy is of recent growth, but it is increasing and is going to continue to increase. Every advance of civilization will advance the navy. Every new discovery and invention will directly or indirectly serve it. The navy, more than any other thing, will give opportunity for mechanism and to mechanism. Far beyond any possible imagination of to-day, it will become the highest expression of the Genius of Mechanism, and the embodiment of its spirit. The amount of money now being spent by the United States on its navy is so great that the expenditure can be justified only on the basis that great naval power is essential to the country. Is it essential, and if so, why? _Primary Use for a Navy_.--To answer this wisely, it may be well to remind ourselves that the principal object of all the vocations of men is directly or indirectly the acquiring of money. Money, of course, is not wealth; but it is a thing which can be so easily exchanged for wealth, that it is the thing which most people work for. Of course, at bottom, the most important work is the getting of food out of the ground; but inasmuch as people like to congregate together in cities, the thing taken out of the ground in one place must be transported to other places; and inasmuch as every person wants every kind of thing that he can get, a tremendous system of interchange, through the medium of money, has been brought about, which is called "trade." For the protection of property and life, and in order that trade may exist at all, an enormous amount of human machinery is employed which we call "government." This government is based on innumerable laws, but these laws would be of no avail unless they were carried out; and every nation in the world has found that employment of a great deal of force is necessary in order that they shall be carried out. This force is mainly exercised by the police of the cities; but many instances have occurred in the history of every country where the authority of the police has had to be supported by the army of the national government. There is no nation in the world, and there never has been one, in which the enforcement of the necessary laws for the protection of the lives, property, and trade of the people has not depended ultimately on the army; and the reason why the army could enforce the laws was simply the fact that the army had the power to inflict suffering and death. As long as a maritime country carried on trade within its own borders exclusively, as long as it lived within itself, so long as its people did not go to countries oversea, a navy was not necessary. But when a maritime country is not contented to live within its own borders, then a navy becomes essential to guard its people and their possessions on the highways of the sea; to enforce, not municipal or national law, as an army does, but international law. Now the desire of the people of a country to extend their trade beyond the seas seems in some ways not always a conscious desire, not a deliberate intent, but to be an effort of self-protection, or largely an effort of expansion; for getting room or employment. As the people of a country become civilized, labor-saving devices multiply; and where one man by means of a machine can do the work of a hundred, ninety-nine men may be thrown out of employment; out of a hundred men who till the soil, only one man may be selected and ninety-nine men have to seek other employment. Where shall it be gotten? Evidently it must be gotten in some employment which may be called "artificial," such as working in a shop of some kind, or doing some manufacturing work. But so long as a people live unto themselves only, each nation can practically make and use all the machinery needed within its borders, and still not employ all the idle hands; and when the population becomes dense, employment must be sought in making goods to sell beyond the sea. The return comes back, sometimes in money, sometimes in the products of the soil and the mine and the manufactures of foreign lands. In this way every nation becomes like a great business firm. It exports (that is, sells,) certain things, and it imports (that is, buys,) certain things; and if it sells more than it buys it is making money; if it buys more than it sells it is spending money. This is usually expressed by saying that the "balance of trade" is in its favor or against it. In a country like the United States, or any other great nation, the amount of exporting and importing, of buying and selling almost every conceivable article under the sun, is carried on in the millions and millions of dollars; and so perfect has the organization for doing this business become in every great country, that the products of the most distant countries can be bought in almost every village; and any important event in any country produces a perceptible effect wherever the mail and telegraph go. The organization for effecting this in every country is so excellent and so wonderful, that it is like a machine. In fact, it is a machine, and with all the faults of a machine. Now one of the faults of a machine, a fault which increases in importance with the complexity of the machine, is the enormous disturbance which may be produced by a cause seemingly trivial. That such is the case with the machine which the commerce of every great nation comprises, every-day experience confirms. So long as the steamers come and go with scheduled regularity, so long will the money come in at the proper intervals and be distributed through the various channels; so long will the people live the lives to which they are habituated; so long will order reign. But suppose the coming and going of all the steamers were suddenly stopped by a blockade. While it may be true that, in a country like the United States, no foreign trade is really necessary; while it may be true that the people of the United States would be just as happy, though not so rich, if they had no foreign trade--yet the sudden stoppage of foreign trade would not bring about a condition such as would have existed if we had never had any foreign trade, but would bring about a chaotic condition which cannot fitly be described by a feebler word than "horrible." The whole machinery of every-day life would be disabled. Hundreds of thousands of people would be thrown out of employment, and the whole momentum of the rapidly moving enormous mass of American daily life would receive a violent shock which would strain to its elastic limit every part of the entire machine. It would take a large book to describe what would ensue from the sudden stoppage of the trade of the United States with countries over the sea. Such a book would besides be largely imaginative; because in our history such a condition has never yet arisen. Although wars have happened in the past in which there has been a blockade of our coast more or less complete, peace has been declared before the suffering produced had become very acute; and furthermore the conditions of furious trade which now exist have never existed before. Disasters would ensue, apart from the actual loss of money, owing simply to the sudden change. In a railroad-train standing still or moving at a uniform speed, the passengers are comfortable; but if that same train is suddenly brought to rest when going at a high speed, say by collision, the consequences are horrible in the extreme, and the horror is caused _simply by the suddenness of the change_. The same is true all through nature and human nature. Any sudden change in the velocity of any mass has its exact counterpart in any sudden change in the conditions of living of any man or woman, or any sudden change in the conditions under which any organization must carry on its business. The difficulty is not with individuals only, or with the organizations themselves, and does not rest solely on the personal inability of people to accommodate themselves to the losing of certain conveniences or luxuries; but it is an inertia which resists even the strenuous efforts of individuals and organizations to meet new situations promptly, and to grapple effectively with new problems. Every organization, no matter how small, is conducted according to some system, and that system is based upon certain more or less permanent conditions, which, if suddenly changed, make the system inapplicable. The larger the organization and the more complex it is, the more will it be deranged by any change of external conditions and the longer time will it take to adapt itself to them. The sudden stoppage of our sea trade, including our coasting trade, by even a partial blockade of our ports, would change practically all the conditions under which we live. There is hardly a single organization in the country which would not be affected by it. And, as every organization would know that every other organization would be affected, but to a degree which could not possibly be determined, because there would be no precedent, it cannot be an exaggeration to declare that the blockading of our principal ports would, entirely apart from direct loss of money and other commodities, produce a state of confusion, out of which order could not possibly be evolved except by the raising of the blockade. In addition to the confusion brought about, there would, of course, be the direct loss of money and non-receipt of imported things; but what would probably be the very worst thing of all would be the numbers of men thrown out of employment by the loss of foreign markets. _So long as a country can keep its people in employment, so long the people will live in comparative order_. But when there are many unemployed men in a country, not only do their families lose the means of subsistence, but the very fact of the men being unemployed leads them into mischief. Should the ports of any great commercial nation be suddenly closed, the greatest danger to the country would not be from the enemy outside, but from the unemployed people inside, unless the government gave them employment, by enlisting them in an enormous, improvised army. It will be seen, therefore, that the blockading of the principal ports of any purely commercial country would be a disaster so great that there could not be a greater one except actual invasion. Another disaster might be the total destruction of its fleet by the enemy's fleet; but the only _direct_ result of this would be that the people of the country would have fewer ships to support and fewer men to pay. The loss of the fleet and the men would not _per se_ be any loss whatever to the country, but rather a gain. The loss of the fleet, however, would make it possible for the enemy's fleet to blockade our ports later, and thus bring about the horrors of which we have spoken. While it is true that an absolute blockade of any port might be practically impossible at the present day, while it is true that submarines and torpedo-boats might compel blockading ships to keep at such distance from ports that many loopholes of escape would be open to blockade runners, yet it may be pointed out that even a partial blockade, even a blockade that made it risky for vessels to try to break it, would have a very deleterious effect upon the prosperity of the country and of every man, woman, and child within it. A blockade like this was that maintained during the greater part of the Civil War by the Northern States against the Southern States. This blockade, while not perfect, while it was such as to permit many vessels to pass both ways, was nevertheless so effective that it made it impossible for the Southern States to be prosperous, or to have any reasonable hope of ever being prosperous. And while it would be an exaggeration to state that the navy itself, unaided by the army, could have brought the South to terms; while it would be an exaggeration to state that all the land battles fought in the Civil War were unnecessary, that all the bloodshed and all the ruin of harvests and of homesteads were unnecessary, nevertheless it does seem that so long as the navy maintained the blockade which it did maintain, the people of the South would have been prevented from achieving enough prosperity to carry on an independent government; so that their revolt would have failed. The South, not being able to raise the blockade by means of their navy, might have tried to do so by sending an army into the Northern States, to whip the Northerners on their own ground; but this would clearly have been impossible. The sentences above are not written with the intention of minimizing the services rendered by the army in the Civil War, or of detracting from the glory of the gallant officers and men who composed it, or of subtracting one jot or tittle from a grateful appreciation of their hardships and bloodshed; neither do they dare to question the wisdom of the statesmen who directed that the war should be fought mainly by the army. Their sole intention is to point out that, if a meagre naval force could produce so great an effect against a country _mainly agricultural_, a very powerful naval force, blockading effectively the principal ports of a _manufacturing country_, would have an effect so great that it can hardly be estimated. It is plainly to be seen that the effect of a blockade against a purely commercial country by a modern navy would be incomparably greater now than it was fifty years ago, for two very important reasons. One reason is that the progress of modern engineering has made navies very much more powerful than they were fifty years ago; and the other reason is that the same cause has made countries very much more vulnerable to blockade, because it has made so many millions of people dependent upon manufacturing industries and the export of manufactured things, and forced them to live an artificial life. While the United States, for instance, does not depend for its daily bread on the regular coming of wheat from over the sea, yet millions of its people do depend, though indirectly, upon the money from the export of manufactured things; for with countries, as with people, habits are formed both of system and of mode of life, which it is dangerous suddenly to break; so that a country soon becomes as dependent upon outside commerce as a man does upon outside air, and a people suddenly deprived of a vigorous outside commerce would seem to be smothered almost like a man deprived of outside air. A rough idea of the possible effect of a blockade of our coast may be gathered from the fact that our exports last year were valued at more than $2,000,000,000; which means that goods to this amount were sold, for which a return was received, either in money or its equivalent, most of it, ultimately, as wages for labor. Of course no blockade could stop all of this; but it does not seem impossible that it could stop half of it, if our fleet were destroyed by the enemy. Supposing that this half were divided equally among all the people in the United States, it would mean that each man, woman, and child would lose about $10 in one year. If the loss could be so divided up, perhaps no very great calamity would ensue. But, of course, no such division could be made, with the result that a great many people, especially poor people, earning wages by the day, would lose more than they could stand. Suppose, for instance, that a number of people earning about $900 a year, by employment in export enterprises, were the people upon whom the actual loss eventually fell by their being thrown out of employment. This would mean that more than a million people--men, women, and children--would be actually deprived of the means of living. It seems clear that such a thing would be a national disaster, for any loss of money to one man always means a loss of money or its equivalent to other men besides. For instance: suppose A owes $20 to B, B owes $20 to C, C owes $20 to D, D owes $20 to E, E owes $20 to F, F owes $20 to G, G owes $20 to H, H owes $20 to I, and I to J. If A is able to pay B, and does so, then B pays C, and so on, and everybody is happy. But suppose that A for some reason, say a blockade, fails to receive some money that he expected; then A cannot pay B, B cannot pay C, and so on; with the result, that not only does J lose his $20, but nine men are put in debt $20 which they cannot pay; with the further result that A is dunned by H, B is dunned by C, and so on, producing a condition of distress which would seem to be out of all proportion to a mere lack of $20, but which would, nevertheless, be the actual result. So in this country of 100,000,000 people, the sudden loss of $1,000,000,000 a year would produce a distress seemingly out of all proportion to that sum of money, because the individual loss of every loser would be felt by everybody else. Since to a great manufacturing nation, like ours, the greatest danger from outside (except actual invasion) would seem to be the sudden stoppage of her oversea trade by blockade, we seem warranted in concluding that, since _the only possible means of preventing a blockade is a navy_, the primary use for our navy is to prevent blockade. This does not mean that a fleet's place is on its own coast, because a blockade might be better prevented by having the fleet elsewhere; in fact it is quite certain that its place is not on the coast as a rule, but at whatever point is the best with relation to the enemy's fleet, until the enemy's fleet is destroyed. In fact, since the defensive and the offensive are so inseparably connected that it is hard sometimes to tell where one begins and the other ends, the best position for our fleet might be on the enemy's coast. It may be objected that the coast of the United States is so long that it would be impossible to blockade it. Perhaps, but that is not necessary: it would suffice to blockade Boston, Newport, New York, the Delaware, the Chesapeake, and the Gulf, say with forty ships. And we must remember that blockade running would be much more difficult now than in the Civil War, because of the increased power and accuracy of modern gunnery and the advent of the search-light, wireless telegraph, and aeroplane. It may also be objected that the blockading of even a defenseless coast would cost the blockading country a good deal of money, by reason of the loss of trade with that country. True; but war is always expensive, and the blockade would be very much more expensive to the blockaded country; and though it might hold out a long while, it would be compelled to yield in the end, not only because of the blockade itself but because of the pressure of neutral countries; and the longer it held out, the greater the indemnity it would have to pay. The expense of blockading would therefore be merely a profitable investment. The author is aware that actual invasion of a country from the sea would be a greater disaster than blockade, and that defense against invasion has often been urged in Great Britain as a reason for a great navy; so that the primary reason for a navy might be said to be defense against invasion. But why should an enemy take the trouble to invade us? Blockade is easier and cheaper, and can accomplish almost everything that an enemy desires, especially if it be enlivened by the occasional dropping of thousand-pound shells into Wall Street and the navy-yard. While, however, the _primary_ use of naval power seems to be to prevent blockade, a navy, like any other weapon, may be put to any other uses which circumstances indicate. For instance, the Northerners in the Civil War used the navy not to prevent blockade, but to make blockade; the Japanese used the navy to cover the transportation of their armies to Manchuria and Corea; and Great Britain has always used her navy to protect her trade routes. A general statement of the various uses of a navy has been put into the phrase "command of the sea." Of course, the probability of getting "command of the sea," or of desiring to get it is dependent on the existence of a state of war, and there are some who believe that the probability of our becoming involved in a war with a great naval nation is too slight to warrant the expense of money and labor needed to prepare the necessary naval power. So it may be well to consider what is the degree of probability. This degree of probability cannot be determined as accurately as the probabilities of fire, death, or other things against which insurance companies insure us; for the reason that wars have been much less frequent than fires, deaths, etc., while the causes that make and prevent them are much more numerous and obscure. It seems clear, however, that, as between two countries of equal wealth, the probability of war varies with the disparity between their navies, and unless other nations are involved, is practically zero, when their navies are equal in power; and that, other factors being equal, the _greatest probability of war is between two countries, of which one is the more wealthy and the other the more powerful_. In reckoning the probability of war, we must realize that _the most pregnant cause of war is the combination of conflicting interests with disparity in power_. And we must also realize that it is not enough to consider the situation as it is now: that it is necessary to look at least ten years ahead, because it would take the United States that length of time to prepare a navy powerful enough to fight our possible foes with reasonable assurance of success. Ten years, however, is not really far enough ahead to look, for the simple reason that, while we could get a great many ships ready in ten years, we could not get the entire navy ready as will be explained later. If, for instance, some change in policies or in interests should make war with Great Britain probable within ten years, we could not possibly build a navy that could prevent our being beaten, and blockaded, and forced to pay an enormous indemnity. Is there _no_ probability of this? Perhaps there is no great probability; but there certainly is a possibility. In fact, it might be a very wise act for Great Britain, seeing us gradually surpassing her, to go to war with us before it is too late, and crush us. It has often been said that Great Britain could not afford to go to war with us, because so many of her commercial interests would suffer. Of course, they would suffer for a while; but so do the commercial interests of competing railroads when they begin to cut rates. Cutting rates is war--commercial war: but it is often carried on, nevertheless, and at tremendous cost. Just now, Great Britain does not wish to crush us; but it is certain that she can. It is certain that the richest country in the world lies defenseless against the most powerful; and that we could not alter this condition in ten years, even if we started to build an adequate navy now. Yet even if the degree of probability of war with Great Britain, within say ten years, seems so small that we need not consider her, are there no other great Powers with whom the degree of probability of war is great enough to make it wise for us to consider them? Before answering this question, let us realize clearly that one of the strongest reasons that leads a country to abstain from war, even to seek relief from wrongs, actual or imagined, is a doubt of success; and that that reason disappears if another country, sufficiently powerful to assure success, is ready to help her, either by joining openly with her, or by seeking war herself at the same time with the same country. As we all know, cases like this have happened in the past. Great Britain knows it; and the main secret of her wealth is that she has always been strong enough to fight any two countries. It is plain that a coalition of two countries against us is possible now. The United States is regarded with feelings of extreme irritation by the two most warlike nations in the world, one on our eastern side and the other on the western. War with either one would call for all the energies of the country, and the issue would be doubtful. But if either country should consider itself compelled to declare war, the other, if free at the time, might see her opportunity to declare war simultaneously. The result would be the same as if we fought Great Britain, except that our Pacific coast would be blockaded besides the Atlantic, and we should have to pay indemnity to two countries instead of to one country. A coalition between these two countries would be an ideal arrangement, because it would enable each country to force us to grant the conditions it desires, and secure a large indemnity besides. Would Great Britain interfere in our behalf? This can be answered by the man so wise that he knows what the international situation and the commercial situation will be ten years hence. Let him speak. WILL THE IMPORTANCE OF NAVAL POWER INCREASE OR DECREASE? It is clear that the importance to a country of a navy varies with two things--the value of that country's foreign trade and the probability of war. It is also clear that, other things being equal, the probability of a country becoming involved in war varies as the value of her foreign trade; because the causes of friction and the money at stake vary in that proportion. Therefore, _the importance to a country of her navy varies as the square of the value of her foreign trade_. In order to answer the question, therefore, we must first consider whether foreign trade--sea trade--is going to increase or decrease. As to the United States alone, the value of our exports is about ten times what it was fifty years ago, and it promises to increase. But the United States is only one country, and perhaps her increase in foreign trade has been due to conditions past or passing. So what is the outlook for the future, both for the United States and other countries? Will other countries seek foreign trade? Yes. The recent commercial progress of Germany, Argentina, and Japan, shows the growing recognition by civilized and enterprising countries of the benefits of foreign trade, and of the facilities for attaining it which are now given by the advent of large, swift, modern steamers; steamers which are becoming larger and swifter and safer every year, more and more adapted for ocean trade. For not only have the writings of Mahan brought about an increase in the sea power of every great country; but this increase has so aroused the attention of the engineering professions that the improvement of ships, engines, and other sea material has gone ahead faster than all the other engineering arts. The reason why the engineering arts that are connected with the sea have gone ahead more rapidly than any other arts is simply that they are given wider opportunity and a greater scope. It is inherent in the very nature of things that it is easier to transport things by water than by land; that water transportation lends itself in a higher degree to the exercise of engineering skill, to the attainment of great results. The underlying reason for this difference seems to be that it is not possible to make any vehicle to travel on land appreciably larger than the present automobile, unless it run on rails; whereas the floating power of water is such that vehicles can be made, and are made, as large as 65,000 tons. The _Mauretania_, of 45,000 tons displacement, has been running for eight years, larger vessels are even now running and vessels larger still will undoubtedly be run; for the larger the ships, the less they cost per ton of carrying power, the faster they go, and the safer they are. Sea commerce thus gives to engineers, scientists, and inventors, as well as to commercial men, that gift of the gods--opportunity. The number of ships that now traverse the ocean and the larger bodies of water communicating with it aggregate millions of tons, and their number and individual tonnage are constantly increasing. These vessels cruise among all the important seaports of the world, and form a system of intercommunication almost as complete as the system of railroads in the United States. They bring distant ports of the world very close together, and make possible that ready interchange of material products, and that facility of personal intercourse which it is one of the aims of civilization to bring about. From a commercial point of view, London is nearer to New York than San Francisco, and more intimately allied with her. The evident result of all this is to make the people of the world one large community, in which, though many nationalities are numbered, many tongues are spoken, many degrees of civilization and wealth are found, yet, of all, the main instincts are the same: the same passions, the same appetites, the same desire for personal advantage. Not only does this admirable system of intercommunication bring all parts of the world very closely together, but it tends to produce in all a certain similarity in those characteristics and habits of thought that pertain to the material things of life. We are all imitative, and therefore we tend to imitate each other; but the inferior is more apt to imitate the superior than vice versa. Particularly are we prone to imitate those actions and qualities by which others have attained material success. So it is to be expected, it is already a fact, that the methods whereby a few great nations attained success are already being imitated by other nations. Japan has imitated so well that in some ways she has already surpassed her models. With such an example before her, should we be surprised that China has also become inoculated with the virus of commercial and political ambitions? It cannot be many years before she will be in the running with the rest of us, with 400,000,000 of people to do the work; people of intelligence, patience, endurance, and docility; people with everything to gain and nothing to lose; with the secret of how to succeed already taught by other nations, which she can learn from an open book. If Japan has learned our secret and mastered it in fifty years, will China not be able to do it in less than fifty years? Before we answer this question, let us realize clearly that China is much nearer to us in civilization than Japan was fifty years ago; that China has Japan's example to guide her, and also that any degree of civilization which was acquired by us in say one hundred years will not require half that time for another nation merely to learn. The same is true of all branches of knowledge; the knowledge of the laws of nature which it took Newton many years to acquire may now be mastered by any college student in two months. And let us not forget, besides, that almost the only difficult element of civilization which other people need to acquire, in order to enter into that world-wide competition which is characteristic of the time we live in, is "engineering" broadly considered. Doubtless there are other things to learn besides; but it is not apparent that any other things have contributed largely to the so-called new civilization of Japan. Perhaps Japan has advanced enough in Christianity to account for her advance in material power, but if so she keeps very quiet about it. It may be, also, that the relations of the government to the governed people of Japan are on a higher plane than they used to be, but on a plane not yet so high as in our own country; but has any one ever seen this claimed or even stated? It may be that the people of Japan are more kindly, brave, courteous, and patriotic than they were, and that their improvement has been due to their imitating us in these matters; but this is not the belief of many who have been in Japan. One thing, however, is absolutely sure; and that is that Japan's advance has been simultaneous with her acquirement of the engineering arts, especially as applied to military and naval matters and the merchant marine. But even supposing that China does not take part in the world-wide race for wealth, we cannot shut our eyes to the fact that Great Britain, Germany, France, Italy, Japan, Argentina, and the United States, besides others like Sweden, Norway, Belgium, Holland, Spain, and Portugal, are in the race already; and that several in South America bid fair to enter soon. Not only do we see many contestants, whose numbers and ardor are increasing, but we see, also, the cause of this increasing. The cause is not only a clearer appreciation of the benefits to be derived from commerce across the water under conditions that exist now; it is also a growing appreciation of the possibilities of commerce under conditions that will exist later with countries whose resources are almost entirely undeveloped. For four hundred years, we of the United States, have been developing the land within our borders, and the task has been enormous. At one time it promised to be the work of centuries; and with the mechanical appliances of even one hundred years ago, it would have taken a thousand years to do what we have already done. Mechanical appliances of all kinds, especially of transportation and agriculture, have made possible what would, otherwise, have been impossible; and mechanical appliances will do the same things in Tierra del Fuego and Zululand. Mechanism, working on land and sea, is opening up the resources of the world. And now, another allied art, that of chemistry, more especially biology, is in process of removing one of the remaining obstacles to full development, by making active life possible, and even pleasant, in the tropics. It is predicted by some enthusiasts that, in the near future, it will be healthier and pleasanter to live in the tropics, and even do hard work there, than in the temperate zone. When this day comes, and it may be soon, the development of the riches of lands within the tropics will begin in earnest, and wealth undreamed of now be realized. The opening of the undeveloped countries means a continuing increase of wealth to the nations that take advantage of the opportunity, and a corresponding backsliding to those nations that fail. It means over all the ocean an increasing number of steamers. It means the continuing increase of manufacturing in manufacturing countries, and the increasing enjoyment in them of the good things of all the world. It means in the undeveloped countries an increasing use of the conveniences and luxuries of civilization and an increasing possession of money or its equivalent. It means, throughout all the world, an increase of what we call "Wealth." In discussing a subject so great as sea trade, while it may be considered presumptuous to look fifty years ahead, it can hardly be denied that we ought at least to try to look that far ahead. To look fifty years ahead, is, after all, not taking in a greater interval of time than fifty years back; and it certainly seems reasonable to conclude that, if a certain line of progress has been going on for fifty years in a perfectly straight line, and with a vigor which is increasing very fast and shows no sign of change, the same general line of progress will probably keep up for another fifty years. If we try to realize what this means, we shall probably fail completely and become dazed by the prospect. We cannot possibly picture accurately or even clearly to ourselves any definite conditions of fifty years hence; but we certainly are warranted in concluding that by the end of fifty years, practically all of the countries of the world, including Africa, will be open to trade from one end to the other; that the volume of trade will be at least ten times as great as it is now; that the means of communication over the water and through the air will be very much better than now; and that there will be scores of appliances, methods, and processes in general use of which we have, as yet, no inkling, and cannot even imagine. Now let us call to mind the accepted proverb that "Competition is the life of trade," and this will make us see that, accompanying this stupendous trade, extending over, and into, every corner of the world, there will be stupendous competition, involving in a vast and complicated net, every red-blooded nation of the earth. We seem safe in concluding, therefore, that the importance of naval power will increase. A great deal is said and written nowadays about the ability of arbitration to make wars unnecessary, and a good deal also about the possibility of an agreement among the nations, whereby armaments may be limited to forces adequate to insure that every nation shall be compelled to abide by the decision of the others in any disputed case. In view of the number, the earnestness, and the prominence of many of the men interested in this cause; in view of the number of arbitration treaties that have been already signed; in view of the fact that arbitration among nations will simply establish a law among them like the law in any civilized country; in view of the fact that individuals in their dealings with each other sometimes surrender certain of their claims, and even rights, for the common good; in view of the fact that nations, like all business firms, like to cut down expenses, and in further view of the fact that a navy is not directly, but only indirectly, a contributor to a nation's prosperity, it seems probable that arbitration will be more and more used among the nations, and that armaments may be limited by agreement. It is clear, however, that the practical difficulties in the way of making the absolute agreement required are enormous, and that the most enthusiastic advocates of the plan do not expect that the actual limitation of armaments will become a fact for many years. After the necessary preliminaries shall have been arranged, and the conference takes place which shall settle what armament each nation may have, it is plain that it will be to the interest of each nation to keep down the armament of every other nation, and to be allowed as much as possible itself. In this way, the operation of making the agreement will be somewhat like the forming of a trust among several companies, and the advantage will lie with that nation which is the most powerful. For this reason it would seem a part of wisdom for each country to enter the conference with as large a navy as possible. Therefore, the probability of an approaching agreement among the nations as to limitation of armaments, instead of being a reason for abating our exertions toward establishing a powerful navy, is really a conclusive reason for redoubling them. This brings us to the important question, "how powerful should our navy be?" This may seem a question impossible to answer. Of course it is impossible to answer it in terms of ships and guns; but an approximate estimate may be reached by considering the case of a man playing poker who holds a royal straight flush. Such a man would be a fool if he did not back his hand to the limit and get all the benefit possible from it. So will the United States, if she fails to back her hand to the limit, recognizing the fact that in the grand game now going on for the stakes of the commercial supremacy of the world, she holds the best hand. She has the largest and most numerous seaports, the most enterprising and inventive people, and the most wealth with which to force to success all the various necessary undertakings. This does not mean that the United States ought, as a matter either of ethics or of policy, to build a great navy in order to take unjust advantage of weaker nations; but it does mean that she ought to build a navy great enough to save her from being shorn of her wealth and glory by simple force, as France was shorn in 1871. It is often said that the reason for Great Britain's having so powerful a navy is that she is so situated geographically that, without a powerful navy to protect her trade, the people would starve. While this statement may be true, the inference usually drawn is fallacious: the inference that if Great Britain were not so situated, she would not have so great a navy. Why would she not? It is certain that that "tight little island" has attained a world-wide power, and a wealth per capita greater than those of any other country; that her power and wealth, as compared with her home area, are so much greater than those of any other country as to stagger the understanding; that she could not have done what she has done without her navy; that she has never hesitated to use her navy to assist her trade, and yet that she has never used her navy to keep her people from starving. In fact, the insistence on the anti-starvation theory is absurd. Has any country ever fought until the people as a mass were starving? Has starving anything to do with the matter? Does not a nation give up fighting just as soon as it sees that further fighting would do more harm than good? A general or an admiral, in charge of a detached force, must fight sometimes even at tremendous loss and after all hope of local success has fled, in order to hold a position, the long holding of which is essential to the success of the whole strategic plan; but what country keeps up a war until its people are about to starve? Did Spain do so in our last war? Did Russia fear that Japan would force the people of her vast territory into starvation? No--starvation has nothing to do with the case. If some discovery were made by which Great Britain could grow enough to support all her people, she would keep her great navy nevertheless--simply because she has found it to be a good investment. The anti-starvation theory--the theory that one does things simply to keep from starving--does apply to some tropical savages, but not to the Anglo-Saxon. Long after starvation has been provided against, long after wealth has been secured, we still toil on. What are we toiling for? The same thing that Great Britain maintains her navy for--wealth and power. The real reason for Great Britain's having a powerful navy applies with exact equality to the United States. Now that Great Britain has proved how great a navy is best for her, we can see at once how great a navy is best for us. That is--since Great Britain and the United States are the wealthiest countries in the world, and since the probability of war between any two countries is least when their navies are equal in power--the maximum good would be attained by making the United States navy exactly equal to the British navy. CHAPTER IV NAVAL PREPAREDNESS In a preceding chapter I endeavored to show why it is that the necessities of the naval defense of a country have caused the gradual development of different types of vessels, each having its distinctive work. If those different types operated in separate localities they would lose that mutual support which it is the aim of organization to secure, and each separate group could be destroyed in turn by the combined groups of an enemy. For this reason, the types or groups are combined in one large fleet, and an admiral is placed in command. The command of a fleet is the highest effort of the naval art. Its success in time of war demands in the admiral himself a high order of mind and nerve and body; and it demands in all the personnel, from the highest to the lowest, such a measure of trained ability and character that each shall be able to discharge with skill and courage the duties of his station. In order that the material fleet shall be efficient as a whole, each material unit must be efficient as a unit. Each ship must be materially sound; each pump, valve, cylinder, gun, carriage, torpedo, and individual appliance, no matter how small, must be in condition to perform its expected task. The complexity of a fleet baffles any mental effort, by even those most familiar with it, to grasp it fully. Each dreadnaught, battle cruiser, destroyer, submarine, collier, tender, hospital ship, scout, supply ship, and what-not, is a machine in itself, and is filled with scores--in some cases, hundreds--of highly specialized machines, operated by steam, oil, air, electricity, and water. A superdreadnaught is a machine which, including the machines inside of her, costs $15,000,000; a battle cruiser more. The personnel is nearly as complicated as the material. Not only are there all the various ranks of commissioned officers in the line, medical corps, pay corps, marine corps, etc., but there are ten kinds of warrant officers besides; while in the enlisted personnel there are ninety-one different "ratings" in the navy, and thirteen in the marine corps, besides temporary ratings, such as gun-pointer, gun-trainer, gun-captain, etc. Each rank and rating carries its rigidly prescribed duties, as well as its distinctive uniform and pay. That such a multitudinous host of types and individuals, both material and personnel, can be actually combined in one unit fleet, and that fleet operated as a mobile directable organism by its admiral, is a high achievement of the human intellect. How is it done? By discipline, by training, by knowledge, by energy, by devotion, by will; by the exercise of those mental, moral, and spiritual faculties that may be grouped under the one term "mind": the same power that co-ordinates and controls a still more complex machine, the organism of the human body. Despite its relative crudeness, a fleet possesses, more fully than any other fruit of man's endeavor, the characteristics of an organism, defined by Webster as "an individual constituted to carry on the activities of life by means of parts or organs more or less separate in function, but mutually dependent." And though it must be true that no fleet can approximate the perfection of nature's organisms, nevertheless there is an analogy which may help us to see how a complex fleet of complex vessels has been slowly evolved from the simple galley fleets of earlier days; how its various parts may be mutually dependent yet severally independent; and how all must be made to work as one vast unit, and directed as one vast unit by the controlling mind toward "the end in view." The common idea is that an army consists of a number of soldiers, and a navy of a number of ships. This idea is due to a failure to realize that soldiers and ships are merely instruments, and that they are useless instruments unless directed by a trained intelligence: that the first essential in an army and the first essential in a navy is mind, which first correctly estimates the situation, then makes wise plans to meet it, then carries out those plans; which organizes the men and designs the ships, and then directs the physical power exertable by the men and the ships toward "the end in view." Owing to the enormous mechanical power made available in ships by the floating properties of water, machinery is more used by navies than by armies; but this does not mean that machinery can take the place of men more successfully in navies than in armies, except in the sense that navies can use more mechanical power. The abundant use of machines and instruments in navies does not mean that machinery and instruments can take the place of trained intelligence--but exactly the reverse. Under the guidance of trained intelligence, a machine or instrument can perform wonders. But it is not the machinery that does the wonders; it is the trained intelligence that devised the instrument or machine, and the trained intelligence that operates it. Let the trained intelligence err, or sleep, and note the results that follow. The _Titanic_, a mass of 40,000 tons, moving through the water at 20 knots an hour, a marvel of the science and skill of man, crashes into an iceberg, because the trained intelligence directing her errs--and is reduced at once to an inert mass of iron and brass. The mighty fleet of Russia meets the Japanese fleet in Tsushima Straits; and because the trained intelligence that directed its movements seriously erred, in an engagement decided in less than an hour, is stripped of its power and glory, and transformed into a disorganized aggregation of separate ships--some sunk, some sinking, some in flight. The Japanese fleet, on the other hand, because it is directed with an intelligence more highly trained than that which directs the Russian fleet, and because, in consequence, the officers and enlisted men perform their various duties not only in the actual battle, but in preparation for it, with a skill greater than that used in the Russian fleet, suffers but little damage in the fight--though the advantage in number and size of ships is slightly with the Russians. As a consequence of that battle, the war between Russia and Japan was decided in favor of Japan, and terms of peace were soon agreed upon. Russia lost practically all the ships that took part in the battle, and several thousand of her officers and sailors--and _she lost the whole object for which she went to war_. The difference between the Russian and Japanese fleets that gave the victory to the Japanese was a difference in trained intelligence and in the relative degrees of preparedness which that difference caused. During the actual battle, the intelligence was that of the officers and men in the respective fleets, in managing the two fleets, the ships themselves, and the guns, engines, and machines of all kinds that those ships contained. It is this factor--trained intelligence--that has decided most of the battles of history, and the course that nations thereafter followed. Battles have usually been fought between forces not very different in point of numbers and material, for the reason that a force which knew itself to be weaker than another would not fight unless compelled to fight; and in cases where two forces of widely differing strength have fought, the situation has usually been brought about directly by a superior intelligence. In fact, one of the most frequent and important endeavors of strategy and tactics--used triumphantly by Napoleon--has always been such a handling of one's forces as to be superior to the enemy at the point of contact--to "get the mostest men there the firstest," as General Forrest is said to have expressed it. The effect of superior-trained intelligence is greatest "at the top," but it can accomplish little unless a fine intelligence permeates the whole. A fine intelligence at the top will so direct the men below, will so select men for the various posts, and will so co-ordinate their efforts, that the organization will resemble a veritable organism: all the various organs fulfilling separately yet accurately their allotted functions; all the fire-control parties, all the gun crews, all the torpedo crews, all the engineer forces properly organized and drilled; all the hulls of the vessels, all the guns, all the torpedoes, all the multifarious engines, machines, and instruments in good material condition and correctly adjusted for use. But it is not only in the actual battle that fine intelligence is required; it is required long before the battle and far distant from the scene--in the "admiralty" at home. The Japanese fleet set out fully manned with a highly trained, enthusiastic, and confident personnel; the Russian fleet set out manned with a poorly trained and discouraged personnel, only too well aware of their defects. The issue at Tsushima was decided before the respective fleets left their respective homes--though that issue was not then known to mortals. The battle emphasized, but did not prove, what had been proved a hundred times before: the paramount importance of preparedness; that _when two forces fight--the actual battle merely secures the decision as to the relative values of two completed machines, and their degrees of preparedness for use_. Preparedness of material is not, of course, so important as preparedness of personnel, because if the personnel is prepared, they will inevitably prepare the material. And the preparedness must pervade all grades: for while it is true that the preparedness of those in high command is more important than the preparedness of those in minor posts, yet there is no post so lowly that its good or its ill performance will not be a factor in the net result. An unskilful oiler may cause a hot bearing that will slow down a battleship, and put out of order the column of a squadron; a signalman's mistake may throw a fleet into confusion. Perfect preparedness of personnel and material is essential because events follow each other so rapidly in war that no preparation can be made after it has begun. To fight is the most intense work a man can do; and a war is nothing but a fight. No matter how great or how small a war may be, no war can lose the essential qualities of a fight, or (save in the treatment of prisoners) be more brutal or less brutal when fought between two little savage tribes, than when fought between two colossal groups of Christian nations, civilized to the highest point. War is the acme of the endeavor of man. Each side determines that it will win at all costs and at all hazards; that nobody's comfort, happiness, or safety shall receive the slightest consideration; that everybody's strength and courage must be worked to the limit by night as well as by day, and that there must be no rest and no yielding to any softening influence whatever; that the whole strength and mind of the nation, and of every individual in it, must be devoted, and must be sacrificed, if need be, to the cause at stake. In war, a navy's primary duty has usually been to protect the coast and trade routes of its country; and in order to do this, it has had to be able to oppose to an attacking fleet a defending fleet more militarily effective. If it were less effective, even if no invasion were attempted, the attacking fleet could cripple or destroy the defending fleet and then institute a blockade. In modern times an effective blockade, or at least a hostile patrol of trade routes, could be held hundreds of miles from the coast, where the menace of submarines would be negligible; and this blockade would stop practically all import and export trade. This would compel the country to live exclusively on its own resources, and renounce intercourse with the outside world. Some countries could exist a long time under these conditions. But they would exist merely, and the condition of mere existence would never end until they sued for peace; because, even if new warships were constructed with which to beat off the enemy, each new and untrained ship would be sunk or captured shortly after putting out to sea as, on June 1, 1813, in Massachusetts Bay, the American frigate _Chesapeake_ was captured and nearly half her crew were killed and wounded in fifteen minutes by a ship almost identical in the material qualities of size and armament--the better-trained British frigate _Shannon_. For these reasons, every nation that has acquired and has long retained prosperity, has realized that every country liable to be attacked by any navy must either be defended by some powerful country, or else must keep a navy ready to repel the attack successfully. To do this, the defending navy must be ready when the attack comes; because if not ready then, it will never have time to get ready. In regard to our own country, much stress is laid by some intelligent people--who forget the _Chesapeake_ and _Shannon_--on the 3,000 miles of water stretching between the United States and Europe. This 3,000 miles is, of course, a factor of importance, but it is not a prohibition, because it can be traversed with great surety and quickness--with much greater surety and quickness, for instance, than the 12,000 miles traversed by the Russian fleet, in 1904, in steaming from Russia to Japan. The 3,000 miles that separate the United States from Europe can be traversed by a fleet more powerful than ours in from two to three weeks; and the fleet would probably arrive on our shores in good condition, and manned by full crews of well-trained officers and men, habituated to their duties by recent practice and thoroughly ready to fight, as the _Shannon_ was. We could not meet this fleet successfully unless we met it with a fleet more militarily effective; and we could not do this unless we had in the regular service and the reserve a personnel of officers and men sufficiently numerous to man immediately all the vessels that would be needed, and to man in addition all the shore stations, which would have to be expanded to a war basis. The officers and enlisted men, of course, would have to be at least as well trained as the corresponding personnel in the attacking fleet, and have as recent and thorough practice in their respective duties; for otherwise, no matter how brave and devoted they might be, the fate of the American fleet would be the fate of the _Chesapeake_. In order to be ready when war breaks, the first essential is a plan for preparation. Preparation is divided naturally into two parts: first, preparation of sufficient material and personnel; second, preparation of plans for the conduct of the war after it has begun. These two parts are both considered in what are technically called "War Plans." Preparation for war has always been known to be essential. Lack of preparation has never been due to lack of knowledge, but always to neglect. The difference between the wise and the foolish virgins was not a difference in knowledge but a difference in character. The difference between Alexander's little army and the tremendous army of Darius was not so much in numbers as in preparedness. Trained under Philip of Macedon for many years, organized for conquest and aggression, prepared to meet any situation that might arise, Philip's army carried Philip's son from victory to victory, and made him the master of the world. Cæsar was great in peace as well as war, but it was by Cæsar's army that Cæsar's greatness was established; and it was a thoroughness of preparation unknown before that made Cæsar's army great. Napoleon's successes were built on the splendid preparation of a mind transcendently fitted to grasp both principles and details, and on the comparatively unprepared state of his opponents. The Great Elector began in 1640 a course of laborious and scientific preparation which committed all Prussia, as well as the army, to acquiring what now we call "efficiency." As this plan developed, especially under the Elector's grandson King Frederick William, the next King found himself, as Alexander had done, the chief of an army more highly prepared for war than any other. By means of that army he made himself Frederick the Great, and raised Prussia from a minor position to the first rank of European Powers. Pursuing Frederick William's system of progressive preparation, Prussia continued her prosperous course till William I defeated Austria, then France, and founded the German Empire. This does not mean that the only result of developing national efficiency to its highest point is to secure success in war--in fact, we know that it is not. But it does mean that the same quality--efficiency--which tends to prosperity in peace tends also to victory in war. Preparing for war was a simple thing in the olden days compared with preparing now, for the reason that the implements of war are much more numerous and complicated than they used to be, especially in navies. A navy is not ready unless all preparations and plans have been made, tested, and kept up to date, to insure that all of the vessels of every kind and all the shore stations will be in material condition, fully equipped and manned by a sufficient and efficient personnel of officers and crews, in time to meet the enemy on advantageous terms, and unless the central authority has already decided what it will do, when any probable emergency shall arise. This was the condition of the German army in 1870. This was also the condition of the British navy, when war broke out in August, 1914; the British navy was ready; and therefore it was able to assume command of the sea at once, drive its enemy's commerce from the ocean, and imprison its fleets in sheltered ports. In all countries the peace establishment of the army and navy is smaller than the war establishment, for reasons of economy, upon the assumption that there will be enough time after war is declared to get on a war basis before the enemy can strike. But since 1870, all the military nations have realized that the vital struggle of a war takes place _before_ a shot is fired; that _the factors that decide which nation shall be the victor and which the vanquished are determined before the war begins_; that they are simply "functions" of preparedness. Germany was ready not only for war but for victory, because her troops were so much better trained, organized, and equipped than those of France, and her war plans so much more complete, that she was able to lay France prostrate, before the enormous resources of that country in men and material could rally in her defense. The relative conditions in which two opposing forces will enter a war, and their relative performances afterward, will depend upon the relative excellence of the war plans made for them, and the thoroughness with which the plans are tested before war breaks. So it is not difficult to see why all the great armies have patterned after Germany, and organized special bodies of officers for the preparation and execution of War plans; and why it is that they endeavor to secure for that peculiar duty the most thorough and industrious of their officers. Owing to the nature of war itself, the principles of warfare apply in their essentials to navies as well as to armies; and so the navies have patterned after the armies and made plans whereby they can get ready to fight in fleet organization on the ocean with the greatest possible effectiveness in the shortest possible time. During peace times every navy is maintained on a "peace basis"; only such ships and other material being kept in full commission, and only such a number of officers and enlisted men being actively employed, as the appropriations allotted by the government permit. Those ships and other material that are not actually in commission are maintained in reserve, a condition of partial readiness, of which several degrees are recognized, in which a reduced number of officers and men are kept on board, and the various structures and apparatus are kept in as high a degree of readiness as circumstances will permit. In order to man in time of war these vessels in reserve, and insure a sufficient personnel in the active fleet, a "naval reserve" is organized in each country, composed of officers and men who have had experience in the regular navy. They are compelled to undergo a specific amount of training each year, to keep themselves in readiness at all times to answer the call for active service on short notice, and to maintain such communication with the government as will make it easy to locate any man at any moment. The act of getting ready, the passing from a state of peace to a state of readiness for fighting, is called "mobilization." Mobilization plans are an important element in war plans, but the details of any mobilization plan are of such a confidential nature that it would not be proper to discuss them in public print. There can be no impropriety, however, in making the general statement that in all navies the endeavor is made to keep the mobilization plans continually up to date, and to have them prepared in such detail that every officer and enlisted man in active service, the retired list, the naval reserve, and the naval militia, will become instantly available for a predetermined duty, and that every shore station and every necessary vessel will be ready to take part. The plans prescribe methods in very great detail whereby the ships and other vessels in reserve can be quickly put into commission with full crews of officers and men, all their various equipments, fuel, and ammunition put on board, and the vessels themselves sent out to sea to join the fleet. In addition, plans are made whereby certain auxiliaries can be fitted out at once and put into commission--such as supply ships, ammunition ships, transports, colliers, mine ships, hospital ships, etc. The mass of detailed plans, orders, and instructions is stupendous and bewildering. Years of study, trial, and rectification are required to get them into such condition that the plans can be put into immediate and effective use when war breaks out. The work must be done, however, and with the utmost thoroughness, _before_ war breaks out; otherwise it will never be done, if an active enemy is about, because he will strike at once--and then it will be too late. In most of the great naval countries the work of mobilizing the fleet is comparatively easy, for the reason that the coast-line is short and is not far from any part of the interior, enabling reserves to live in fairly close touch with the coast and with naval affairs, and so near the coast that they can get quickly to any port. But the conditions in the United States are more difficult than those in any other country, because of the enormous stretch of our coast, the great average distance from any place in our country to the coast, the difficulty of getting a naval reserve that could be of practical use (owing to the ease with which young men can make a comfortable living on land), and the perilous slowness of the nation as a whole to realize the necessity for preparedness. As an offset to this, we have the 3,000 miles of ocean between us and Europe, and the 5,000 miles between us and Asia; and on account of this we may to a certain extent discount the danger of attack and the preparedness required to meet it. But our discount should be reasonable and reasoned out, and certainly not excessive. Fortunately the problem of how much time we should allow for mobilizing and joining the fleet is easy, as a moment's thought will show us that it must be simply the two weeks needed for a fleet to come from Europe to America; for we must realize that the report of the sailing of the hostile fleet would be the first news we should get of any hostile preparation or intent. The general situation in which every isolated naval nation stands regarding other nations is not complicated, but very plain. Each nation has, as possible opponents in its policy, certain countries. The naval forces of those countries and the time in which they can be made ready are known with sufficient accuracy for practical purposes. If any isolated naval nation wishes to carry out a policy which any of those countries will forcibly oppose she must either build a navy equal to that of the other country, or else be prepared to abandon any attempt to force her policies. Stating the question in another way, she can carry out only such policies as do not require for their enforcement a navy stronger than she has. It is true that diplomacy and the jealousies of foreign powers unite to make possible the averting of war during long periods of time. Diplomacy averted war with Germany for forty-three years, but it could not continue to avert war eternally. War finally broke out with a violence unparalleled in history, and possessing a magnitude proportional to the duration of the preceding peace. "Long coming long last, short notice soon past" is a sailor's maxim about storms; and it seems not inapplicable to wars. Certain it is that the frequent wars of savage tribes are far less terrible than the infrequent wars of enlightened powers. This indicates that, even though a nation may be able to avert war for a long time, war will come some day, in a form which the present war foreshadows; and it suggests the possibility that the longer the war is averted, the more tremendous it will be, the greater the relative unpreparedness of a slothful nation, and the sharper her punishment when war finally breaks upon her. CHAPTER V NAVAL DEFENSE There has never been a time since Cain slew Abel when men have not been compelled to devote a considerable part of their energies to self-defense. In the early ages, before large organizations existed or the mechanic arts had made much progress, defense was mostly defense of life itself. As time went on, and people amassed goods and chattels, and organized in groups and tribes, it came to include the defense of property--not only the property of individuals, but also of the tribe and the land it occupied. Still later, defense carne to include good name or reputation, when it was realized that the reputation, even of an organization, could not be destroyed without doing it an injury. At the present day, owing to the complexity of nations and other organizations, and to the long time during which many of them have existed, the question of defense has become extremely difficult. The places in which defense has been brought to its highest excellence are the large cities of the civilized countries; for there we see that defense of the life, property, and reputation of every individual has been carefully provided for. This has been made possible by the intimate intermingling of the people, the absence of racial rivalries, and the fact that the interests of all are identical in the matter of defense of life, property, and reputation; since, no matter how bad any individual may be, he wishes that others shall be good, in order that he himself may be safe. The defense of reputation has two aspects: the practical and the sentimental. The practical aspect regards the defense of that element of reputation which affects ability to "make a living"; while the sentimental aspect is concerned with the purely personal reputation of the individual, or with the reputation of an organization or a nation. The sentimental aspect is much more important, especially in enlightened nations, than is realized by some who have not thought much about it; for there is, fortunately, in every decent man a craving for the esteem and even the affection of his fellow men; and a knowledge that, no matter how wealthy or powerful he may be, he cannot be happy if he knows that he is despised. The fact that individuals organize to acquire the strength of united effort brings about, among organizations, a spirit of competition like that among individuals. It is more intense, however, because no man alone can get up the enthusiasms that ten men acting together can get up, and ten men cannot get up as much as a thousand. The longer any organization is maintained, the sharper this spirit of rivalry grows to be, owing to the feeling of clanship that propinquity and material interests evoke. Its acme is found in those organizations called nations, that have lived together, nourished from the same soil, for generations; where the same loves and jealousies and hates that they now feel were felt by their fathers and their grandfathers and great-grandfathers for centuries back. Among a people possessing the potentialities of national solidarity and greatness this feeling waxes, into a self-sacrificing devotion to the nation and to the land that bore them. That there should be such a thing is sometimes deplored; because patriotism, like all human qualities, has its bad side and its unfortunate effects. If it were not for patriotism there would probably be no war, and the greatest suffering that the world endures would thus be obviated. But if it were not for patriotism there would be no competition among nations; and in any one nation there would be no national spirit, no endeavor on the part of every man to do his part toward making her strong, efficient, and of good repute or toward making the people individually prosperous and happy. In the same way, on a smaller scale, many people deplore the necessity of competition among organizations, saying that it is ruthless and selfish; that it stamps out the individual; that it makes every man a mere cog in a money-getting machine; that it brings about strife, hatred, jealousies, and sometimes murders; that, if it were not for competition, all men would live together in peace. This may be so; but if it were not for competition there would probably be little of that strenuous, endeavor without which no effective progress in advancing the welfare of men has ever yet been made. Of course, it may be that what we call "progress" has really not advanced the welfare of men; that the savage in Samoa is as happy as the millionaire in New York; that knowledge itself is not an unmixed benefit; and if we accept this view, we may logically declare that competition, progress, and patriotism are all disadvantages. But who will go so far? It seems to be a fact that we cannot get something for nothing: that every plus has its minus, every joy its pain; that if men succeed in passing beyond the savage state, and in overcoming the forces of nature, so that they can live in houses with every modern luxury and convenience, they must pay for it by a condition of competition that causes personal jealousies among individuals, commercial wars among organizations, physical wars among nations. Yet the instinctive desire of every one is for peace and comfort, for the maximum of good with the minimum of exertion; and therefore the normal person dislikes to see interjected into human life the abominable confusion of war. From this it comes about that every nation, even if it consciously brings about a war, always endeavors to make it appear that the other party is the aggressor. For this reason in every country the army and navy are said to be for the "defense" of the country. No nation, no matter how aggressive its policy may secretly be, openly declares that it intends to provoke aggression. This does not mean that any nation ever deliberately raises an army and navy for aggression, and then consciously deceives the world in regard to its intention; for men are so constituted as to feel more or less unconsciously that their interests and desires are proper and those of their opponent wrong; and every nation is so firmly persuaded of the righteousness of its own policies as to feel that any country which exhibits antagonism toward these policies is trying to provoke a fight. Now these policies, especially after a nation has adhered to them for long, seem vital in her eyes, and they usually are so. To Great Britain, whose major policy is that she must be mistress of the seas, it is vital that she should be. Her people are surrounded by the ocean, and unless they are willing simply to eke out an agricultural existence, it is essential that she should be able to manufacture articles, send them out in ships to all parts of the world, and receive in return money and the products of other lands. In order that she may be able to do this, she must feel sure that no power on earth can restrain the peaceful sailing to and fro of her exporting and importing ships. This assurance can be had only through physical force; it can be exerted only by a navy. Germany has been gradually coming into the same position, and the same clear comprehension, owing to the increase of her population, the growth of their desire for wealth, and their realization of the control by Great Britain and the United States of large areas of the surface of the earth. Germany's determination to break down, at least in part, that overpowering command of the sea which Great Britain wields has been the result. The ensuing rapid growth and excellence of Germany's navy and merchant marine brought Germany and England into sharp competition. Military and naval men have seen for years that these competing nations would have to go to war some day in "self-defense." In the minds of some people the idea of what constitutes "defense" is rather hazy, and "defense" is deemed almost synonymous with "resistance." Perhaps the clearest idea of what constitutes "defense" is given in a sentence in Webster's Dictionary, that reads: "The inmates of a fortress are _defended_ by its guns, _protected_ by its walls, and _guarded_ against surprise by sentries." The distinction is important, and the partially aggressive character of defense it indicates is exemplified in all walks of human and brute life. Any animal, no matter how peaceably inclined, will turn on his aggressor--unless, indeed, he runs away. No one ever saw any brute oppose a merely passive resistance to attack. Every man recognizes in himself an instinct to hit back if he is hit. If it be an instinct, it must have been implanted in us for a reason; and the reason is not hard to find in the universal law of self-protection, which cannot be satisfied with the ineffectual method of mere parrying or resisting. Naval defense, like military defense, therefore, is not passive defense only, but contains an element of "offense" as well. When the defense contains in large measure the element of offense, it is said in military parlance to be "offensive-defensive"; and the most effective defensive is this offensive-defensive. When a defending force throws off its defensive attitude entirely and advances boldly to attack, it is said to have "assumed the offensive"; but even this assumption, especially if it be temporary--as when a beleaguered garrison makes a sortie--does not rob the situation of its defensive character. For these reasons the dividing line between offense and defense is very vague; and it is made more vague through a realization by all military people that the offense has certain decided advantages over the defense (unless the defense has the advantage of position); so that when strained relations between two nations come, each is so fearful that the other will take the offensive first, when the two nations are near each other, that it is apt to take the offensive first--in real _self-defense!_ A striking illustration is the action of certain European Powers in the latter part of July, 1914. In addition to the sincere convictions of either party, there is also apt to be considerable yielding to the temptation to persuade the world that the other party is the aggressor, merely to get the sympathy that usually goes to the innocent victim--the support of what Bismarck called "the imponderables." Few wars have been frankly "offensive," like the conquests of Alexander, Cæsar, and Pizarro, at least in modern times; each side has usually claimed (and often sincerely believed) that its action was demanded in self-defense and that its cause was just. To some in the United States naval defense means merely defense against invasion. This notion is of recent growth, and certainly was not held by the framers of our Constitution. Section 8 of Article I defines the powers of Congress; and although eight of the eighteen paragraphs deal exclusively with measures of defense on sea and land, only one of those paragraphs (the fifteenth) deals with invasion. The, first paragraph reads: The Congress shall have power to lay and collect taxes, duties, imposts, and excises, _to pay the debts and provide for the common defense and general welfare of the United States_; but all duties, imposts, and excises shall be uniform throughout the United States. The juxtaposition of the words "common defense" and "general welfare" in this admirably written paragraph could hardly have been accidental, or have been due to any other cause than a juxtaposition of those ideas in the minds of the Constitution's framers. And what more natural connection can there be between any two ideas than between those of common defense and general welfare, since the general welfare of no country has ever continued long unless it was defended. Now the general welfare of every maritime power has always been intimately concerned with its sea-borne commerce. It is only by means of sea-borne commerce, for instance, that Americans can live in the way Americans wish to live. "General welfare" means more than mere existence. A mere existence is the life a savage lives. Furthermore, the general welfare of a country requires the safety of its exported and imported goods while on the sea, and includes the right of its citizens to travel with safety in every land, to buy and sell in foreign ports, to feel a proper measure of self-respect and national respect wherever they may go, and to command from the people of the lands they visit a proper recognition of their claims to justice. Naval defense may, therefore, be said to consist of three parts: 1st--Defense of the coast against bombardment and invasion. 2d--Defense of the trade routes traversed by ships carrying the exports and imports of the country. 3d--Defense of the national policy, including defense of the nation's reputation, honor, and prestige. Of these, defense of the coast against bombardment and invasion is the easiest, and defense of the national policy the most difficult; because in preventing bombardment and invasion the defender has the strategical advantage of being nearer home than the adversary; while in the defense of a country's policy, a naval force may have to "assume the offensive," and go even to the far distant coasts of the enemy--as the Russian fleet went to Tsushima, where it met its death. In that part of naval defense which is concerned with trade routes, the strategical advantage must go, in general, to that side which is the nearer to the locality where the decisive battle may occur. In laying down a policy of naval defense, however, it is not necessary to consider these three parts separately, because no nation can ever tell whether in the distant future its naval defense will have to be used directly for any one of the three, or for all. In general terms, it may be stated that in nearly all naval wars the fleet has been used more for the defense of the nation's policy than for the actual defense of the coasts or the trade routes. This does not mean that there has never been a bombardment or invasion, or that the defense of trade routes may not have been the cause of the war itself; but it does mean that in actual wars bombardment or invasion has been rare, the capture of merchant vessels has played a minor part, and the deciding events have been battles between two fleets, that were often far from the land of either. Owing to the fact that within modern times most of the important countries of the world have been those of continental Europe, with frontiers contiguous, and in fact identical, the defense of a country has been largely committed to the army, and most of the wars have been on land. The country standing in exception to this has been Great Britain, whose isolated and insular situation demanded a defense that was strictly naval. The tremendous advance in recent times of the engineering arts, by which ships became larger and faster, and able to carry more powerful and accurate guns than ever before, has enhanced the value of naval power and enabled Great Britain to reach all over the surface of the earth, and become more powerful than any continental nation. Thus she has made out of the very weakness of her position a paramount tower of strength. Naval defense was taken up systematically in Great Britain in the eighth century by King Offa, to whom is credited the maxim, "He who would be secure on land must be supreme at sea"; but it must have dropped to a low ebb by 1066, for William of Normandy landed in England unopposed. Since that time Great Britain's naval defense, committed to her navy, has increased steadily in effectiveness and power, keeping pace with the increase in the national interests it defended, and utilizing all the growing resources of wealth and science which the world afforded. Until the present crisis, Great Britain's naval defense did its most important work during Napoleon's time, when Great Britain's standing, like the standing of every other European nation, was subjected to a strain that it could hardly bear. So keenly, however, did the nation and the nation's great leader, Pitt, realize the situation that the most strenuous measures were adopted to keep the navy up, press-gangs even visiting the houses of subjects of the King, taking men out and putting them by force on board his Majesty's ships. But the British navy, even more than the British army, brought Great Britain safe out of the Napoleonic danger, and made the British the paramount nation of the world. Since then Great Britain has waxed more and more powerful, her avowed policy being that her navy should be equal to any other two; realizing that her aloofness in point of national characteristics and policy from all other nations made it possible that a coalition of at least two great nations might be pitted against her at a time when she could not get an ally. Accompanying the growth of the British navy has been the establishment of British foreign trade, British colonies, and British bases from which the navy could work, and the general making of a network of British commerce and British power over the surface of the earth. No other nation has ever dominated so large a part of the surface of the globe as has Great Britain during the last two centuries; and she has done it by means of her naval power. This naval power has been, in the language of Great Britain, for the "imperial defense"; not for coast defense alone, but for the defense of all the imperial interests, commercial and political, and even the imperial prestige. And this defense of prestige, it may here be remarked, is not a vainglorious defense, not an exhibition of a swaggering, swashbuckling spirit, but a recognition of the fact that the minds of men are so constituted that the prestige of an individual, an organization, or a nation has a practical value and is an actual force. No government that appreciates its responsibilities will willingly risk the prestige of the nation which it governs, because it knows that any weakening of it will be followed by a weakening of influence and a consequent increase of difficulty in attaining some "end in view." The greatness of the British navy, compared with that of the British army and the other elements of Great Britain's government, has taken on magnified dimensions during the last half century. So long as war-ships used sails as their principal motive power, so long were they forced to employ methods of construction and equipment that forbade the efficient employment of high-power guns, the attainment of great speed, and the use of instruments of precision; so long, in other words, was their military effectiveness prevented from increasing greatly. But when the British navy decided to abandon sail power altogether and propel their ships by steam, a new phase was entered upon, in which every resource of the engineering arts and the physical sciences was called into requisition; and now, on board a dreadnaught, battle cruiser, destroyer, or submarine, can be found the highest examples of mechanical and electrical art and science. Every material resource which the brain and wealth of man can compass is enlisted in her naval defense; and in order to take advantage of the rapidity and certainty of movement they afford for operating fleets and ships, there has been a great advance in methods of operation, or, in military parlance, "staff work." To assist this work, the radio, the cable, and even the humble typewriter have contributed their essential share, with the result that to Great Britain's naval defense there has been devoted an extraordinary degree of efficiency, continuous effort, a more varied activity, and a larger expenditure of money than to any other object of man's activity. The United States navy, to which is committed the naval defense of the United States, has followed the same lines as the British; and its task, while in some ways easier, is in other ways more difficult. Perhaps the chief reason why the naval defense of Great Britain is so difficult is the extreme closeness of her borders to the borders of her possible foes--for the English Channel is only twenty-three miles across from Dover to Calais. And yet the very narrowness of the Channel there lends a certain element of assistance to the defender of either coast against an enemy like Germany, because it enables the defender, by simply protecting that narrow area, to prevent an enemy from passing to the sea or from it, except by going around the British Isles. But while it is interesting thus to compare the tasks of two navies by comparing the lengths of coast line, populations, wealth, and areas of their countries, or their distances from possible antagonists, such comparisons are really misleading; for the reason that all nations are on a par in regard to the paramount element of national defense, which is defense of national policy. It was as important to Belgium as it was to Germany to maintain the national policy, and the army of Belgium was approximately as strong as that of Germany in proportion to her wealth, area, and population; but nevertheless the Belgium army was routed, and Belgium was conquered by the German army. Much has been written to prove that the sole reason for the possession of the paramount navy by Great Britain is that the soil of Great Britain cannot support her people. In an essay, entitled "Naval Power," which I contributed to the _United States Naval Institute_ in 1911, the fallacy of this was shown; and it was pointed out that even if Great Britain grew more than enough to feed her people, life could be made unendurable to the 60,000,000 living there (or to the people in any civilized and isolated country) by an effective blockading fleet. _The question of how great a navy any country needs depends, not on the size, but on the policies of that country, and on the navies of the countries that may oppose those policies_. The navy that a country needs is a navy that can defend its policies, both offensively and defensively. If, for instance, the United States does not wish to enforce any policy that Great Britain would oppose, or to oppose any policy that Great Britain would enforce, then we may leave her navy out of consideration. But if we decide that we must maintain a certain policy which a certain country may oppose, then we must have a navy at least equal to hers; because we do not know whether we should have to meet that navy near our coast, or near hers, or far away from both. For the reason, furthermore, that a war with a European Power might occur at a period of strained relations with some Asiatic Power, we must realize the temptation to that Asiatic Power to seize the opportunity and attack us on the Pacific side, knowing that we should need all our navy on the Atlantic side. This seems to mean that in order to have an effective naval defense (since we are precluded by our policy from having European allies and no South American country could give us any effective naval help) we must have on each ocean a fleet as strong as that of any nation on that ocean against whose wishes we may have to enforce a policy--or against whose policy we may have to oppose resistance. The essential requirement of any defense is that it shall be adequate; because an inadequate defense will be broken down, while the attack will retain a large proportion of its original strength. In the _United States Naval Institute_, in 1905, the present writer showed, by means of a series of tables, how, when two forces fight, the force which is originally the more powerful will become gradually more powerful, relatively to the weaker, as the fight goes on. That, for instance, if two forces start with the relative powers of 10 and 8, the weaker force will be reduced so much more rapidly than the stronger that when it has been reduced to zero the stronger force will have a value of 5.69. The values mentioned indicated the actual fighting strength--strength made up of all the factors--material, physical, and psychic--that constituted it. Of course, none of these factors can ever be accurately compared; but nevertheless the tables seemed to prove that in a contest between two forces whose total strengths are as 10 and 8 one force will be reduced to zero, while the other will be reduced not quite one-half. One of the lessons drawn was "the folly of ineffectual resistance." Doubtless a clearer lesson would have been "the folly of ineffectual preparedness"; because, when the decision as to resistance or non-resistance is forced upon a nation, the matter is so urgent, the military, political, and international conditions so complex, and the excitement probably so intense, that a wise decision is very difficult to reach; whereas the question of what constitutes effectual preparedness is simple, and needs merely to be approached with calm nerves and an open mind. Inasmuch as the psychic element in defense is the strongest single element, it is apparent that if the decision is reached to prepare an effectual defense the nation must be absolutely united, and must appreciate at its full value the debilitating influence of opposition to the measure; for, no matter how much money a nation may expend, no matter how many lives it may sacrifice, its defense cannot have an efficiency proportional to the effort if a considerable number of its citizens are permitted to oppose it. In our own country there has been so much talking and writing recently about defense, that there is danger of the question coming to be considered academic; though no question is more practical, no question is more urgent. _Defense must defend_. CHAPTER VI NAVAL POLICY Every country that has a satisfactory navy has acquired it as the result of a far-seeing naval policy, not of opportunism or of chance. The country has first studied the question thoroughly, then decided what it ought to do, then decided how to do it. Naval policy has to deal with three elements: material, personnel, and operations, which, though separate, are mutually dependent. A clear comprehension of their actual relations and relative weights can be obtained only by thorough study; but without that comprehension no wise naval policy can be formulated, and therefore no satisfactory navy can be established. The most obvious thing about a navy is its material: the ponderous battleships, the picturesque destroyers, the submarines, the intricate engines of multifarious types, the radio, the signal-flags, the torpedo that costs $8,000, the gun that can sink a ship 10 miles away. The United States navy ever since its beginning in 1775 has excelled in its material; the ships have always been good, and in many cases they have surpassed those of similar kind in other navies. This has been due to the strong common sense of the American people, their engineering skill, and their inventive genius. The first war-ship to move under steam was the American ship _Demologos_, sometimes called the _Fulton the First_, constructed in 1813; the first electric torpedoes were American; the first submarine to do effective work in war was American; the first turret ship, the _Monitor_, was American; the first warship to use a screw propeller was the _Princeton_, an American; the naval telescope-sight was American. American ships now are not only well constructed, but all their equipments are of the best; and to-day the American battleship is the finest and most powerful vessel of her class in the world. Our personnel, too, has always been good. The American seaman has always excelled, and so has the American gunner. No ships have ever been better handled than the American ships; no naval battles in history have been conducted with more skill and daring than those of American ships; no exploits in history surpass those of Cushing, Hobson, and Decatur. In operations, however, in the handling of the navy as a whole, we have never excelled; though no better individual fleet leaders shine in the pages of all history than Farragut and Dewey. The strategical operating of our material and personnel has not been in accordance with carefully laid plans, but has been left largely to the inspiration of the commander on the spot, both in peace and in war. Material has suffered from lack of a naval policy, but only quantitatively, because material is a subject that the people understand. Personnel has suffered more, because the people fail to realize the amount of training needed to make a personnel competent to perform their tasks successfully, in competition with the highly trained men of other navies. But operations have suffered incomparably more than material and personnel; because naturally the people do not comprehend the supreme importance of being ready, when war breaks out, to operate the material and personnel skilfully against an active enemy, in accordance with well-prepared strategic plans; nor do they realize how difficult and long would be the task of preparing and testing out those plans. Therefore, they fail to provide the necessary administrative machinery.[*] [Footnote *: Since this was written, the Congress has so enlarged the scope of the Office of Chief of Naval Operations as to make it a General Staff.] In fact, the kind and amount of machinery needed to conduct operations skilfully and quickly cannot be decided wisely until the country adopts some naval policy; and in naval policy the United States must be admitted to have lagged behind almost every other civilized country. Spurred as we were to exertion by the coming of the Revolutionary War, we constructed hastily, though with skill, the splendid ships that did service in that war. But after the war, interest in the navy waned; and if it had not been for the enormous tribute demanded by the pirates of the Barbary coast from our government, and a realization of the fact that not only was it cheaper to build ships and fight the pirates than to pay the tribute, but paying the tribute was a disgraceful act, our navy would have run down even more than it did. Yet even with this warning, 1812 found our navy in a desperate condition. Rallying to the emergency, though too late to accomplish much practical result, we built a number of excellent ships, against the votes of many highly influential men in Congress. These ships did gallant service, and redeemed the reputation of Americans from the oft-repeated charge of being cowards and merely commercial men, though they were too few to prevent the blockade which British squadrons maintained on our Atlantic coast. After the war, the navy was again allowed to deteriorate; and although our ships were excellent, and the officers and men were excellent, and although the war with Mexico supplied some stimulation, the War of the Rebellion caught us in a very bad predicament. The country rose to this emergency too slowly, as before; but the enemy were even less prepared than we, so that during the four years of the Civil War we were able to construct, man, and buy several hundred ships of various kinds; with the result that, at the end of the war, our navy, if not quite so powerful as Great Britain's, was at least very close to it, and with a recent experience in actual war which the British navy did not possess. After that war, the same story was repeated. The people convinced themselves that they would never again be forced to go to war; that they had seen the folly of it, and the misery of it, and would devote themselves thereafter to the delightful pursuits of peace. Gradually the fighting ships of the ironclad class were allowed to go to pieces; gradually even the larger ships of the wooden sailing class fell into disrepair; gradually the idea of war faded from the minds even of naval officers; gradually squadrons and fleets, as such, were broken up, and our ships were to be found scattered singly over all the seas, and swinging idly at their anchors in pleasant ports. Fortunately, Admiral Luce and a very few other officers had learned the salient lessons of war during the Rebellion, and sturdily stood up against the decadent tendency of the times. Against much opposition, Luce succeeded in founding the Naval War College at Newport, where the study of war as an art in itself was to be prosecuted, and in enlisting Captain Mahan in the work. In a few years Mahan gave to the world that epochal book, "The Influence of Sea Power upon History" (embodying his lectures before the War College), which stirred the nations of Europe to such a realization of the significance of naval history, and such a comprehension of the efficacy of naval power, that they entered upon a determined competition for acquiring naval power, which continues to this day. Meanwhile, a little before 1880, the people became aroused to the fact that though the country was growing richer, their navy was becoming weaker, while the navies of certain European countries were becoming stronger. So they began in 1880 the construction of what was then called "the new navy." The construction of the new ships was undertaken upon the lines of the ships then building abroad, which were in startling contrast with the useless old-fashioned American ships which then were flying our flag. The construction of the material of the navy has progressed since then, but spasmodically. At every session of Congress tremendous efforts have been made by people desiring an adequate navy, and tremendous resistance has been made by people who believed that we required no navy, or at least only a little navy. The country at large has taken a bystander's interest in the contest, not knowing much about the pros and cons, but feeling in an indolent fashion that we needed some navy, though not much. The result has been, not a reasonable policy, but a succession of unreasonable compromises between the aims of the extremists on both sides. Great Britain, on the other hand, has always regarded the navy question as one of the most difficult and important before the country, and has adopted, and for centuries has maintained, a definite naval policy. This does not mean that she has followed a rigid naval policy; for a naval policy, to be efficient, must be able to accommodate itself quickly to rapid changes in international situations, and to meet sudden dangers from even unexpected quarters--as the comparatively recent experience of Great Britain shows. At the beginning of this century the British navy was at the height of its splendor and self-confidence. Britannia ruled the waves, and Britannia's ships and squadrons enforced Britannia's policies in every sea. The next most powerful navy was that of France; but it was not nearly so large, and seemed to be no more efficient, in proportion to its size. Owing to Britain's wise and continuing policy, and the excellence of the British sailor and his ships, the British navy proudly and almost tranquilly held virtual command of all the seas. But shortly after this century began, British officers discerned a new and disturbing element gradually developing on the horizon. The first thing which roused their attention to it was the unexpected attack of the Japanese torpedo-boats on the Russian squadron in Port Arthur. No war had been declared, and the Russian squadron was riding peacefully at anchor. The suddenness of the attack, and the distinct though incomplete success which it achieved, startled the British into a realization of the fact that there had been introduced into warfare on the sea methods and tactics requiring _a higher order of preparation_ than had ever before been known; that the scientific methods which the Germans employed so effectively on land in 1870 had been adapted by the Japanese to naval warfare, and would necessitate the introduction into naval policies of _speedier methods_ than had hitherto been needed. Another event which had happened shortly before showed that naval policies would have to be modified, if they were to utilize recent advances in scientific methods. This event was the unprecedented success at target practice of H. M. S. _Terrible_, commanded by Captain Sir Percy Scott, which proved that by a long and strenuous training and the adoption of instruments of precision, it was possible to attain a skill in naval gunnery never attained before. Up to this moment the British navy had almost despised gunnery. Inheriting the traditions brought down from Howe, Rodney, and Nelson, permeated with the ideals of the "blue-water school," proud of being British seamen, proud of the pure white of their ships, enamoured of the stimulating breeziness of the quarterdeck and bridge, imbued with almost a contempt for such mathematical sciences as were not directly used in practical navigation, British naval officers exalted seamanship as the acme of their art, and took little interest in gunnery. All the battles of the past had been won by dash and seamanship and dogged persistence. Ships had always fought close alongside each other. No science had ever won any naval battle of the past, so why should they bother with science now--and why should they bother with target practice, except just enough to insure that the battery was in order, and that the men were not afraid of their guns? Besides, target practice dirtied the ship--a sacrilege to the British naval officer. But the events of the war between Japan and Russia, especially the naval battles of Port Arthur, August 10, 1904, and the Sea of Japan, May 27, 1905, riveted their attention on the fact that something more than seamanship and navigation and clean ships would be needed, if the British navy was to maintain its proud supremacy on the sea; for in these battles, overwhelming victories were won purely by superior skill in gunnery, strategy, and tactics. To these causes of awakening was added one still greater, but of like import--the rapid rise of the German navy from a position of comparative unimportance to one which threatened the British navy itself. The fact became gradually evident to British officers that the German navy was proceeding along the same lines as had proceeded the German army. Realizing the efficiency of the German Government, noting the public declarations of the German Emperor, observing the excellence of the German ships, the skill of the German naval officers, and the extraordinary energy which the German people were devoting to the improvement of the German navy--the British navy took alarm. So did the other navies. Beginning about 1904, Great Britain set to work with energy to reform her naval policy. Roused to action by the sense of coming danger, she augmented the size and number of vessels of all types; increased the personnel of all classes, regular and reserve; scrapped all obsolete craft; built (secretly) the epochal _Dreadnaught_, and modernized in all particulars the British navy. In every great movement one man always stands pre-eminent. The man in this case was Admiral Sir John Fisher, first sea lord of the admiralty, afterward Lord Fisher. Fisher brought about vital changes in the organization, methods, and even the spirit of the navy. He depleted the overgrown foreign squadrons, concentrated the British force in powerful fleets near home, established the War College, inculcated the study of strategy and tactics, appointed Sir Percy Scott as inspector of target practice, put the whole weight of his influence on the side of gunnery and efficiency, placed officers in high command who had the military idea as distinguished from the idea of the "blue-water school," and imbued the entire service with the avowed idea that they must get ready to fight to the death, not the French navy, with its easy-going methods, but the German navy, allied perhaps with some other. At the admiralty he introduced methods analogous to those of the General Staff, to maintain the navy ready for instant service at all times, to prepare and keep up to date mobilization plans in the utmost detail, and to arrange plans for the conduct of war in such wise that after a war should break out, all the various probable situations would have been studied out in advance. The work required at the admiralty, and still more in the fleet--night and day and in all weathers--taxed mental and physical endurance to the limit; but the result was complete success; for when war broke out on the 1st of August, 1914, the British navy was absolutely ready. Many complaints have appeared in print about the unreadiness of Great Britain; but no one who knows anything of the facts supposes that these criticisms include Great Britain's navy. The United States navy in the early part of this century occupied, relatively to others, a very ill-defined position; but the increased interest taken in it by our people after the Spanish War, combined with the destruction of the flower of the Russian fleet in the Russo-Japanese War, and the crushing blow inflicted on the French navy by the maladministration of Camille Pelletan, resulted in placing our navy, about three years ago, in a position second only to Great Britain's--a position which it recently has lost. Owing to a common origin and language, our navy has always followed the British navy, though at a somewhat respectful distance; and while it is true that in point of mechanical inventions we are ahead, in seamanship, navigation, and engineering on a par, and in gunnery and tactics not far behind, yet we must admit that in policy and in policy's first cousin, strategy, we are very far in the rear. There are many reasons why this should be, the first being that the British navy has nearly always lived under more stimulating conditions than we, because the probability of war has seemed greater, and because the United States has underestimated what reasonable probability there has been, and failed to realize how tremendously difficult would be the task of getting ready for it. Owing to the present war, our people have gradually come to see that they must get more ships and other material; but they realize this as only a measure of urgency, and not as a matter of policy. If the emergency passes us by in safety, the people may see in this fact only a confirmation of their notion that war can be postponed _ad infinitum_, and may therefore fail to take due precautions for the future. If so, when we at last become involved in a sudden war, we shall be as unprepared as now; and, relatively to some aggressive nation which, foreseeing this, may purposely prepare itself, we shall be more unprepared. A curious phase of the navy question in our country is the fact that very few people, even the most extreme partisans for or against a large navy, have ever studied it as a problem and endeavored to arrive at a correct solution. Few have realized that it is a problem, in the strictest sense of the word; and that unless one approaches it as such his conclusions cannot be correct except by accident. In Germany, on the other hand, and equally in Japan, the question has been taken up as a concrete problem, just as definite as a problem in engineering. They have used for solving it the method called "The Estimate of the Situation," originated by the German General Staff, which is now adopted in all the armies and navies of civilized countries for the solution of military problems. Previous to the adoption of this method the general procedure had been such as is now common in civil life, when a number of people forming a group desire to make a decision as to what they will do in any given contingency. The usual procedure is for some one to suggest that a certain thing be done, then for somebody else to suggest that something else be done, and so on; and then finally for the group to make a decision which is virtually a compromise. This procedure is faulty, and the decisions resulting are apt to be unwise; because it is quite possible that some very important factors may be overlooked, and equally possible that some other factors be given undue weight. Furthermore, a measure advocated by a man who has the persuasive and emotional abilities of the orator is more apt to be favorably considered than a measure advocated by a man not possessing those abilities. In the "Estimate of the Situation" method, on the other hand, the orator has no opportunity, because the procedure is simply an accurate process of reasoning. It is divided into four parts. The first part consists of a careful study of the "mission," ending in a clear determination of what the "mission" really is--that is, _what is the thing which it is desired to do?_ The second part consists of a careful study, and eventually a clear comprehension, of the difficulties in the way; the third part consists of a careful study, and eventually a clear comprehension, of what facilities are available with which to overcome the difficulties; the fourth part consists of a careful study of the mission, difficulties and facilities, in their mutual relations, and a "decision" as to what should therefore be done. Military and naval people are so thoroughly convinced of the value of this method that they always employ it when making important decisions, writing down the various factors and the successive steps in regular order and in complete detail. In this country, while naval and military people use this method in their comparatively minor problems, the country at large does not use it in deciding the major problem--that is, in deciding how much navy they want, and of what composition. They do not take even the first step toward formulating a naval policy, because they do not study the "mission" of the navy--that is, _they do not study the international and national situations and their bearing on the need for a navy_. Yet until they do this they will not be in a sufficiently informed condition of mind to determine what the "mission" is--that is, what they wish the navy to be able to do--because, before they can formulate the mission they must resolve what foreign navy or navies that mission must include. If they decide that the mission of the navy is to guard our coast and trade routes against the hostile efforts of Liberia the resulting naval policy will be simple and inexpensive; while if they conclude that the mission of our navy is to guard our coast and trade routes against the hostile acts of _any_ navy the resulting naval policy will be so difficult and costly as to tax the brain and wealth of the country to a degree that will depend on _the length of time that will elapse before the date at which the navy must be ready to fulfil that mission_. This factor reminds us of another factor: _the minimum time in which the navy can get ready to fulfil a given mission_ (for instance, to protect us against any navy); and we cannot decide the mission correctly without taking this factor into account. For example, it would be foolish to decide that the mission of our navy is to protect us _now_ against any navy, including the greatest, when it would take us at least twenty years to develop and train a navy to accomplish that task; and it would be equally foolish to decide that the mission is to protect us against any navy _except_ the greatest, because such a decision could rest on no other ground than present improbability of conflict with the greatest navy, or improbability for the very few years ahead (say two or three) which we poor mortals can forecast. This reasoning seems to indicate that the first step in formulating a naval policy for the United States is to realize that any conclusion as to which navies should be included in the mission of our navy must not exclude any navy about whose peaceful conduct toward us we can entertain a reasonable doubt, _during the period of time which we would require to get ready to meet her_. For instance, inasmuch as it would take us at least twenty years to get ready to protect ourselves against the hostile efforts of the British navy, we cannot exclude even that navy from a consideration of the mission of our own, unless we entertain no doubt of the peaceful attitude of that navy toward us for at least that twenty years. Clearly, the problem is not only very important but very difficult--perhaps the most difficult single problem before the country; and for this reason, naval officers have long marvelled that the leading minds of the country do not undertake it. Perhaps one reason is that they do not know how difficult it is: that they do not realize the extraordinary complexity of modern ships and engines, and the trained skill required to handle them; that they do not realize what Great Britain now realizes, that we must prepare for one of the most stupendous struggles ever carried on; that we must have a personnel both of officers and enlisted men trained to the highest point, because they will have to meet officers and enlisted men trained to the highest point; that the training must be such that the skill produced can be exercised by night and day, in cold and heat, in storm and calm, under circumstances of the utmost possible difficulty and danger; that, while it takes four years to build a ship and get her into the fleet as an effective unit, it takes much longer to train an enlisted petty officer as he should be trained, and a lifetime to train officers of the upper grades. Perhaps also our leading minds do not realize the intellectual requirements of the higher realms of the naval art, or comprehend what the examples of Alexander, Cæsar, Napoleon, Nelson, and Farragut prove: that, _in the real crises of a nation's life her most valuable asset is the trained skill in strategy that directs the movements of her forces_. Further than this, they may not realize that the greater the danger which they must avert, the earlier they must begin to prepare for it, because the more work in preparation will have to be performed; and yet realization of this truth is absolutely vital, as is also realization of the fact that we have no military power as our ally, and therefore must be ready to meet alone a hostile attack (though perhaps in the far-distant future) from _any_ foreign power. To see that this is true it is merely necessary to note the facts of history, and observe how nations that have long been on terms of friendship have suddenly found themselves at war with each other; and how countries which have always been hostile have found themselves fighting side by side. In the present war, Great Britain is allied with the two countries toward which, more than toward any other, she has been hostile; and she is fighting the country to which, more than any other, she is bound by ties of consanguinity and common interests. The history of war is so filled with alternations of peace and war between every pair of contiguous countries as to suggest the thought that the mere fact of two countries having interests that are common is a reason why their respective shares in those interests may conflict; that countries which have no common interests have nothing to fight about; that it is only for things in which two nations are interested, and which both desire, that those two nations fight. If our estimate of the situation should lead us to the decision that we must prepare our navy in such a way that, say twenty years hence, it will be able to protect the country against any enemy, we shall then instinctively adopt a policy. The fact of having ahead of us a definite, difficult thing to do, will at once take us out of the region of guesswork, and force us into logical methods. We shall realize the problem in its entirety; we shall see the relation of one part to another, and of all the parts to the whole; we shall realize that the deepest study of the wisest men must be devoted to it, as it is in all maritime countries except our own. The very difficulties of the problem, the very scope and greatness of it, the fact that national failure or national success will hinge on the way we solve it, will call into action the profoundest minds in all the nation. We shall realize that, more than any other problem before the country, this problem is urgent; because in no other problem have we so much lost time to make up for, and in no other work of the government are we so far behind the great nations that we may have to contend against. Great Britain was startled into a correct estimate of the situation ten years ago, and at once directed perhaps the best of her ability to meet it. Certain it is that no other department of the British Government is in such good condition as the navy; in no other department has the problem been so thoroughly understood, and so conscientiously worked out, or the success been so triumphant. The underlying reason for this is not so much the individual courage and ability of the officers and men, or even their skill in handling their ships and squadrons, as the fact that Great Britain has followed a definite naval policy; so that the British nation has had a perfectly clear realization of what it wishes the navy to do, and the navy has had a perfectly clear realization of how to do it. The United States has not yet made a correct estimate of the naval situation; she has not yet reached the point that Great Britain reached ten years ago. Great Britain apprehended the danger, and took action before it was too late. Shall the United States take action now or wait until it is too late? PART II NAVAL STRATEGY CHAPTER VII GENERAL PRINCIPLES Strategy is difficult of definition; but though many definitions have been made, and though they do not agree together very well, yet all agree that strategy is concerned with the preparation of military forces for war and for operating them in war--while tactics is the immediate instrument for handling them in battle. Strategy thinks out a situation beforehand, and decides what preparations as to material, personnel, and operations should be made. Many books have been written on strategy, meaning strategy as applied to armies, but very few books have been written on naval strategy. The obvious reasons are that armies in the past have been much larger and more important than navies; that naval men have only recently had the appliances on board ship for writing on an extensive scale; and that the nature of their occupation has been such that continuous application of the kind needed for thinking out principles and expounding them in books, has only recently been possible. Most of the few existing books on naval strategy deal with it historically, by describing and explaining the naval campaigns of the past and such land campaigns as illustrate principles that apply to sea and land alike. Perhaps the best books are those of Darrieus and Mahan. Until about fifty years ago, it was only by experience in actual war, supplemented by laborious study of the campaigns of the great commanders, and the reading of books on strategy which pointed out and expounded the principles involved in them, that one could arrive at any clear idea of strategy. But wars have fortunately been so infrequent, the information about them has often been so conflicting, and so many results have been due to chance, that, in default of experience, the mere reading of books did not lead to very satisfactory results, except in the case of geniuses; and therefore war problems and war games were devised, in which the various factors of material and personnel were represented, and made as true to life as possible. The _tactical_ games resulting, which naval strategists now play, employ models of the various craft used in war, such as battleships, submarines, etc., and are governed by rules that regulate the movements of those craft on a sort of big chess-board, several feet square, that represents an area of water several miles square. The _strategic_ games and problems are based on principles similar to those on which the tactical games are based, in the sense that actual operations are carried on in miniature; but naturally, the strategical operations cover several hundred miles, and sometimes thousands. The aim of both the tactical and the strategic games is to determine as closely as possible the laws that decide victory or defeat; and therefore, for any country, the material, personnel and operations it should employ. Naturally the results obtained are not quite so convincing as those of actual war or battle; but they are more convincing than can be attained in any other way, as yet devised, especially as many of the operations of the game-board that turn out well in games are tried out afterward by the fleet in peace maneuvers. War games and problems may be compared to the drawings that an architect makes of a house which some one wants to build; the plans and drawings are not so realistic as a real house, but they are better than anything else; and, like the war games, they can be altered and realtered until the best result seems to have been attained, considering the amount of money allowed and other practical conditions. The idea of devising war games and war problems seems to have originated with Von Moltke; certainly it was first put in practice by his direction. Shortly after he became chief of the General Staff of the Prussian army in 1857, he set to work to carry out the ideas which he had had in mind for several years, while occupying minor posts, but which he had not had the power to enforce. It seems to have become clear to his mind that, if a chess-player acquired skill, not only by playing actual games and by studying actual games played by masters, but also by working out hypothetical chess problems, it ought to be possible to devise a system whereby army officers could supplement their necessarily meagre experience of actual war, and their necessarily limited opportunities for studying with full knowledge the actual campaigns of great strategists, by working out hypothetical, tactical, and strategic problems. Von Moltke succeeded in devising such a system and in putting it into successful operation. Hypothetical problems were prepared, in which enemy forces were confronted with each other under given circumstances of weather, terrain, and distances, each force with its objective known only to itself: for instance, you are in command of such and such a force at such and such a place; you have received orders to accomplish such and such a purpose; you receive information that the enemy, comprising such and such troops, was at a certain time at a certain place, and marching in a certain direction. What do you do? Classes of army officers were formed, and compelled to work out the problems exactly as boys at school were compelled to work out problems in arithmetic. The skill of individual officers in solving the problems was noted and recorded; and the problems themselves, as time went on and experience was gained, were made more and more to conform to probable situations in future wars with Austria, France, and other countries, actual maps being used, and the exact nature and magnitude of every factor in each problem being precisely stated. By such work, the pupils (officers) acquired the same kind of skill in solving strategic and tactical problems that a boy acquires in solving problems in arithmetic--a skill in handling the instruments employed. Now the skill acquired in solving any kind of problem, like the skill developed in any art, such as baseball, fencing, or piano-playing, does not give a man skill merely in doing a thing identically like a thing he has done before: such a skill would be useless, for the reason that identical conditions almost never recur, and identical problems are never presented. Similar conditions often recur, however, and similar problems are often presented; and familiarity with any class of conditions or problems imparts skill in meeting any condition or any problem that comes within that class. If, for instance, a man memorizes the sums made by adding together any two of the digits, he is equipped to master any problem of addition; and if he will practise at adding numbers together, he will gradually acquire a certain ability of mind whereby he can add together a long row of figures placed in a sequence he never saw before, and having a sum he never attained before. Or a pianist, having acquired the mastery of the technic of the keyboard and the ability to read music, can sit down before a piano he never sat at before and play off instantly a piece of music he never saw before. Doubtless Moltke had ideas of this kind in mind when his plans for educating strategists and tacticians by problems on paper and by games were ridiculed by the unimaginative, and resisted by the indolent; and certainly no man was ever proved right more gloriously than Moltke. In the war with Austria in 1866, the Prussian army defeated the Austrian at Sadowa or Königgrätz in nineteen days after the declaration of war. In the war with France in 1870, the Prussian army routed the French and received the surrender of Napoleon III in seven weeks and two days, not because of superior courage or experience in war, but by more scientific strategy. As Henderson says: "Even the French generals of divisions and brigades had had more actual experience (in war) than those who led the German army corps. Compared with the German rank and file, a great part of their non-commissioned officers and men were veterans, and veterans who had seen much service. Their chief officers were practically familiar with the methods of moving, supplying, and maneuvering large masses of troops; their marshals were valiant and successful soldiers. And yet the history of modern warfare records no defeats so swift and complete as those of Königgrätz and Sedan. The great host of Austria was shattered in seven weeks; the French Imperial army was destroyed in seven weeks and three days; and to all intents and purposes the resistance they had offered was not much more effective than that of a respectable militia. But both the Austrian and the French armies were organized and trained under the old system. Courage, experience, and professional pride they possessed in abundance. Man for man, in all virile qualities, neither officers nor men were inferior to their foes. But one thing their generals lacked, and that was education for war. Strategy was almost a sealed book to them." Also, "Moltke committed no mistake. Long before war had been declared every possible precaution had been made. And these included much more than arrangements for rapid mobilization, the assembly of superior numbers completely organized, and the establishment of magazines. The enemy's numbers, armaments, readiness, and efficiency had been submitted to a most searching examination. Every possible movement that might be made, however unlikely, had been foreseen; every possible danger that might arise, however remote, discussed and guarded against"; also, "That the Prussian system should be imitated, and her army deprived of its monopoly of high efficiency, was naturally inevitable. Every European state has to-day its college, its intelligence department, its schools of instruction, and its course of field maneuvers and field firing." Strategy may be divided into two parts, war strategy and preparation strategy; and of these two, preparation strategy is by far the more important. War strategy deals with the laying out of plans of campaign after war has begun, and the handling of forces until they come into contact with the enemy, when tactics takes those forces in its charge. It deals with actual situations, arranges for the provisioning, fuelling, and moving of actual forces, contests the field against an actual enemy, the size and power of which are fairly well known--and the intentions of which are sometimes known and sometimes not. The work of the strategist in war is arduous, pressing, definite, and exciting; and results are apt to follow decisions quickly. He plays the greatest and oldest game the world has ever known, with the most elaborate instruments, and for the largest stakes. In most wars, the antagonists have been so nearly equal in point of personnel and material that the result has seemed to be decided by the relative degrees of skill of the strategists on both sides. This has been the verdict of history; and victorious commanders in all times and in all lands have achieved rarer glories, and been crowned with higher honors, than any other men. Preparation strategy deals with the laying out of plans for supposititious wars and the handling of supposititious forces against supposititious enemies; and arranges for the construction, equipment, mobilization, provisioning, fuelling, and moving of supposititious fleets and armies. War strategy is vivid, stimulating and resultful; preparation strategy is dull, plodding, and--for the strategist himself--apparently resultless. Yet war strategy is merely the child of preparation strategy. The weapons that war strategy uses, preparation strategy put into its hands. The fundamental plans, the strength and composition of the forces, the training of officers and men, the collection of the necessary material of all kinds, the arrangements for supplies and munitions of all sorts--the very principles on which war strategy conducts its operations--are the fruit of the tedious work of preparation strategy. Alexander reaps the benefit of the preliminary labors of his father, Philip; William is made German Emperor by the toil of Moltke. The work of laying out a supposititious campaign, involving supposititious operations against a supposititious enemy, requires of the strategist a thorough estimate of the situation, including a careful estimate of the forces of the enemy, in material and personnel, and of the strategy that will probably govern his operations--whether he will act on the defensive, or assume the offensive; if he is to act on the defensive, how and where will he base his forces, how far will he operate away from his own shores? And if he is to act on the offensive, what direction will his operations take; will he secure an advance base; and if so, where? And as the character of the enemy's operations will depend on the personnel of the enemy General Staff and of the high commanders afloat, who comprise the personnel, and what are their characteristics? To decide these questions correctly requires considerable acquaintance with the enemy country, its navy and its policy, a full knowledge of the strategy, personnel, and material of that navy, and a sound conception of strategy itself. But to decide the questions correctly is essential, because the decision will form the basis of the future plans. Naturally, as the plan is entirely supposititious and is to take effect at some indefinite time in the future, all the factors that will be in existence at that time cannot be foretold exactly, and therefore must be estimated. This will necessitate several alternate hypotheses; and a war plan including mobilization and operations must be made out, based on each hypothesis. For instance, on the hypothesis that the enemy will take the offensive, one set of plans will have to be prepared on the basis that we shall also take the offensive, and another on the basis that circumstances may be such at that time as to make it wise for us to resort to the defensive; while on the hypothesis that the enemy is to remain on the defensive, a set of plans very different from the other two as to both mobilization and operations must be devised. Each set of the plans just suggested may also have to be divided into two or more parts. On the basis that the enemy will remain on the defensive, for instance, the circumstances when the hour for action comes, such as the fact of his being quite unprepared, may indicate the advisability of an attack on him as sudden as it can be made; while, on the other hand, circumstances such as the fact of his being thoroughly prepared may render it necessary for us to send a larger force than we could get ready quickly, especially if the enemy coast be far away, and may therefore indicate the advisability of deliberate movements, and even a protracted delay before starting. But no matter what plan is to be followed, a detailed plan for every probable contingency must be prepared; and it must be elaborated in such detail that it can be put into operation instantly when the fateful instant comes; because the enemy will put his plans into operation at the same time we do, and the one whose plans are executed first will take a long step toward victory. Not only must the plans provide some means whereby the plans themselves shall get into full operation instantly when war breaks; other plans must also provide that all the acts which those plans contemplate must be performed. Not only must the plans provide that all the prearranged orders for putting the _Kearsarge_ into full commission shall be instantly sent by mail, telegraph, and telephone to the proper officials, but other plans must also provide means whereby the officers and men shall actually march on board the _Kearsarge_, her ensign and commission pennant be displayed, all the fuel, ammunition, provisions, and equipment be on board and the _Kearsarge_ sail at once, and join the commander-in-chief at sea. Doubtless the most complicated and comprehensive plans are those for sending a large expedition on an offensive mission to a far-distant coast, especially if that coast be guarded by an efficient navy, if it have outlying islands that would afford good bases for her destroyers and submarines, and if there are not good harbors which our fleet could seize as advance bases, from which to prosecute its future operations. The complexity of the task of planning such an expedition, taking due account, but not exaggerated account, of all the factors, favorable and adverse, is appalling; but the task must be undertaken and accomplished. The most tedious part is the logistics--the arrangements for supplying the fleet on the way and in the distant theatre of operations with the necessary provisions, equipment, and ammunition and, above all, the fuel. The average superdreadnaught consumes about 460 tons of coal per day at full speed, and about 108 tons at 10 knots; and coal or other fuel for all the dreadnaughts, battle cruisers, cruisers of various classes, scouts, destroyers, submarines, ships, aircraft of different kinds, hospital ships, ammunition ships, transports, and the fuel ships themselves, must be provided by means that _must not fail_. While the work of planning an offensive movement to a distant coast is the most tedious and complex, the work of planning a defensive measure against a sudden attack on the coast needs the most concentration of effort; for whatever the plans require to be done must be done at once. This necessitates that the orders to be issued must be as few as possible; that they be as concise and clear as possible; that the things to be done be as few and as simple as possible, and that all possible foresight be exercised to prevent any confusion or misunderstanding, or any necessity on the part of any one for requesting more instructions. When the fateful instant comes, the final command to mobilize puts into execution whichever of the plans already made is to be followed; and for this reason it is clear that the various plans must be kept separate from each other, and each set of plans must include all the various orders that must be signed for carrying it into effect, including the particular word or phrase that directs the execution of that particular set of plans. It is the story that the final order to the British navy in the early part of August, 1914, was the word "Go." All the units went immediately, understandingly, unitedly; and the greatest machine the world has ever known was almost instantly in operation at full speed. No such stupendous feat, physically considered, had ever been done before. The mobilization of the Prussian army in 1870 and of the German army about August 1, 1914, were as great performances mentally and strategically, but not physically, by reason of the relative feebleness of the forces set in motion. This relative feebleness was due, of course, to the insignificance of muskets compared to navy guns, of railway-trains compared to battleships, etc.--an insignificance far from being neutralized by the greater number of the units, for one 14-inch shell has an energy equal to that of about 60,000 muskets, and no army contains anything approximating the powerfulness of a battleship. Not only, however, must the strategist make plans in peace for preparations that culminate in mobilization, and simply insure that the navy shall be ready in material and personnel when war breaks; he must also make plans for operating the navy strategically afterward, along each of the various lines of direction that the war may take. In other words, the work of preparation strategy in making war plans may be divided into two parts--mobilization and operation. The plans of mobilization deal naturally with all the activities concerned, material and personnel, and endeavor to arrange a passing from a state of peace to a state of war in the quickest possible time, and with the least chance of errors and omissions. A considerable degree of imagination is required, an almost infinite patience, and a perfect willingness to work indefinitely without any reasonable expectation of getting tangible results. A more hopeless task can hardly be given any man or body of men than that of working out plans, general and detailed, day after day, for contingencies that will probably never happen, and to guard against dangers that will probably never come; preparing tables, diagrams, and schedules which are almost certainly doomed to rest forever in the sepulchre of the confidential files. Yet this work is basic. Perhaps it is for that reason, that it is obscure and dull; basic work is apt to be so. The spectacular success of an individual in any walk of life is often but the crowning of the unrecognized, and often utterly unknown work--of other men. Strategy is not a science only; it is an art as well; and although the art cannot be practised in its perfection until after the science is well comprehended, yet the art of strategy was born before the science was. This is true of all those departments of man's activity that are divided into sciences and arts, such as music, surgery, government, navigation, gunnery, painting, sculpture, and the rest; because the fundamental facts--say of music--cannot even attract attention until some music has been produced by the art of some musician, crude though that art may be; and the art cannot advance very far until scientific methods have been applied, and the principles that govern the production of good music have been found. The unskilled navigators of the distant past pushed their frail craft only short distances from the land, guided by art and not by science; for no science of navigation then existed. But the knowledge gradually gained, passing first from adept to pupil by word of mouth, and afterward recorded on the written and then the printed page, resulted first in the realization of the fact that various apparently unrelated phenomena were based on the same underlying principles; and resulted later in the perception, and still later in the definite expression, of those underlying principles. Using these principles, the navigator expanded the limits of his art. Soon we see Columbus, superbly bold, crossing the unknown ocean; and Magellan piercing the southern tip of the American continent by the straits that now bear his name. But of all the arts and sciences, the art and science that are the oldest and the most important; that have caused the greatest expenditure of labor, blood, and money; that have been the immediate instruments of more changes and greater changes in the history of the world than any other, are the art and the science of strategy. Until the time of Moltke the art of strategy, like most arts, was more in evidence than the science. In fact, science of any kind is a comparatively recent product, owing largely to the more exact operations of the mind brought about by the birth of the science of measurement, and the ensuing birth and development of the mechanic arts. Before Moltke's time campaigns were won by wise preparation and skilful execution, as they are now; but the strategical skill was acquired by a general or admiral almost wholly by his own exertions in war, and by studying the campaigns of the great commanders, and reflecting upon them with an intensity that so embedded their lessons in his subjective mind that they became a part of him, and actions in conformity with those lessons became afterward almost automatic. Alexander and Napoleon are perhaps the best illustrations of this passionate grasping of military principles; for though both had been educated from childhood in military matters, the science of strategy was almost non-existent in concrete form, and both men were far too young to have been able to devote much time or labor to it. But each was a genius of the highest type, and reached decisions at once immediate and wise, not by inspiration, but by mental efforts of a pertinacity and concentratedness impossible to ordinary men. It was because Von Moltke realized this, realized the folly of depending on ability to get geniuses on demand, and realized further the value of ascertaining the principles of strategy, and then expressing them so clearly that ordinary men could grasp and use them, that he conceived and carried into execution his plan; whereby not only actual battles could be analyzed, and the causes of victory and defeat in each battle laid bare to students, but also hypothetical wars and battles could be fought by means of problems given. The first result of a course of study of such wars and battles, and practice with such problems, was a skill in decision a little like that developed in any competitive game, say tennis, whist, chess, poker, boxing, and the like--whereby any action of your adversary brings an instantaneous and almost automatic reply from you, that you could not have made so skilfully and quickly before you had practised at the game; and yet the exact move of your adversary, under the same conditions, you had never seen before. Of course, this skill was a development, not of the science, but of the art, as mere skill always is; but as skill developed, the best methods for obtaining skill were noted; and the principles governing the attainment of success gradually unveiled themselves, and were formulated into a science. Naturally, strategy is not an exact science like mathematics, physics, or engineering--at least not now. Whether it ever will be cannot be foretold. The reason that strategy (like medicine and most other sciences concerning human beings) is not an exact science is simply because it involves too many unknown quantities--quantities of which our knowledge is too vague to permit of our applying exact methods to them, in the way in which we apply exact methods to the comparatively well-known quantities and elements in the so-called "exact sciences." But a science may be a science even if it is not an exact science; we may know certain important principles sufficiently well to use them scientifically, even if we do not know them with sufficient exactness to permit us to use them as confidently as we should like. We may know, for instance, that it is folly to divide a military force in the presence of an active enemy into such small forces, and at such distances apart, as to let the enemy defeat each small force, one after the other, even if we do not know exactly how far it would be safe to separate two forces of a given size, in the presence of an enemy of a given power. It is well to know a fact in general terms, even if we do not know it in precise terms: it is well to know in general terms that we must not take prussic acid, even if we do not know exactly how much is needed to kill. So the studies and problems instituted by Von Moltke, and copied in all the armies and navies of the world, have brought about a science of strategy which is real, even though not exact, and which dwells in the mind of each trained strategist, as the high tribunal to which all his questions are referred and by whose decisions he is guided; just as the principles of medicine are the guide alike of the humblest and the most illustrious practitioner, wherever the beneficent art of medicine is practised. It is clear that, in order to be skilful in strategy (in fact, in any intellectual art), not only must a man have its scientific principles firmly imprinted on his mind, but he must make its practice so thoroughly familiar to his mental muscles that he can use strategy as a _trained_ soldier uses his musket--automatically. Inasmuch as any man requires years of study and practice--say, of chess--in order to play chess well enough to compete successfully with professional chess-players, it seems to follow that any man must require years of study and practice of the more complicated game of strategy, in order to play strategy well enough to compete successfully with professional strategists. The game of chess looks easy to a beginner; in fact, the kind of game that he thinks chess to be is easy. But after he has learned the moves, he finds the intricacies of the game developing more rapidly than he can master them, and discovers that chess is a game which some men spend their lifetime studying. The full realization of this fact, however, does not come to him until after defeats by better players have forced into his consciousness the almost infinite number of combinations possible, the difficulty of deciding on the correct move at any juncture, and the consequences that follow after wrong moves. So with strategy. The ease and certainty with which orders can be transmitted and received, the precision with which large forces can be quickly despatched from place to place, and the tremendous power exertable by those forces, tend to blind the mind to the fact that transferring any force to any place is merely making a "move," and that the other player can make moves, too. If a man were never to be pitted in strategy against another player, either in games or in actual war, the "infinite variety" of strategy would never be disclosed to his intelligence; and after learning how to make the moves, he might feel willing to tackle any one. Illustrations of this tendency by people of great self-confidence are numerous in history, and have not been missing even in the present war, though none have been reported in this country as occurring on the Teuton side. There has always been a tendency on the part of a ruling class to seize opportunities for military glory, and the ambition has often been disproportioned to the accompanying ability and knowledge--sometimes on the part of a King, prince, or man of high nobility, sometimes on the part of a minister, sometimes on the part of an army or navy man, who has been indebted to political or social influence for his place. But within the past fifty years, especially since the establishment of the General Staff in Prussia and the studies of Von Moltke, the overshadowing importance of strategy has been understood, the necessity of comprehending its principles and practising its technic has been appreciated, and attempts to practise strategy by persons inexpert in strategy have been deprecated. The game of strategy, while resembling in many ways the game of chess, differs from it, of course, in the obvious element of personal danger. It also differs from it in an equally important but less obvious way--its relation to the instruments employed; for in chess those instruments (pieces) are of a number and character fixed by the rules of the game; whereas in strategy the number and character of the instruments (ships, etc.) employed are determined by strategy itself, assisted by engineering. Germany realizes this, and therefore has established and followed a system whereby the character of the various material and personnel units of the navy, and even the number of them (under the restrictions of the money alloted), are decided by a body of men who are highly trained in strategy and engineering. There is an intimate connection between policy and strategy, and therefore between naval policy and naval strategy; and while it is difficult to draw the line exactly which separates policy and strategy, it may be said in general that policy is the concern of the government, and strategy is the concern of the navy and army, to be employed by them to carry out the policy. As naval policy and naval strategy are so intimately connected in their essence, it is apparent that the naval policy of a country and its naval strategy should be intimately connected in fact; for the policy cannot be properly carried out if the strategy that tries to execute it is not good, or if the policy requires more naval force or skill than the navy can bring to bear; and the strategy cannot be good if it is called upon to execute a policy impossible to execute, or if the exact end in view of the policy is not distinctly known. Some of the greatest mistakes that have been made by governments have been made because of a lack of co-ordination between the government and its navy, so that the policy and the strategy could not work together. We see an illustration of this throughout the history of France, whose civil and naval authorities have not worked harmoniously together, whose naval strategy has apparently been opportunistic and short-sighted, and whose navy in consequence has not been so successful as the large sums of money spent upon it might lead one to expect. Across the English Channel we see a totally different state of things. In Great Britain the development of the navy has been going on for more than twelve hundred years, ever since King Offa declared that "he who would be secure at home must be supreme at sea." For about eight hundred years thereafter the development was carried on energetically, but in an opportunistic fashion, following the requirements of the hour. In 1632, however, the Board of Admiralty was established; and with occasional interruptions, especially prior to 1708, the board has continued in existence ever since. A coherent policy of development has thereby been assured, and a wisdom of strategy established which more than any other single factor has made Great Britain the mistress of the seas, and almost the mistress of the world. The wisdom of her strategy has been due largely to the fact of the close touch maintained between the civil government, including Parliament, and the navy; for by its very constitution the Board of Admiralty includes some of the highest officers of Parliament, the cabinet, and the navy. Its presiding officer is a member of the cabinet, and also member of Parliament; four of the officers are naval officers, high in rank, character, and attainments; and the junior civil lord is a civilian versed in naval matters. All the orders for great movements of the fleets and ships are directed by this board and signed by its secretary, the board, by a fiction of the law, being considered an individual replacing the lord high admiral--which it did, in 1632. The board is supposed to meet every day with all the members present, the vote of each member carrying as much weight as that of any other member. Naturally, the first lord of the admiralty being a cabinet officer and a member of Parliament, has a far greater influence on broad questions than any other member; and the first sea lord being the person of the most experience in naval matters, has the most weight on strictly naval questions. Theoretically, however, neither of these gentlemen can carry a measure opposed to the others; and any member, even a junior, has equal opportunity with the others to bring up and discuss any question and to attempt to procure its passage by the full board; but in 1869 the first lord at that time, Mr. Childers, brought about a change whereby the first lord was made personally responsible to the government. This vastly increased the power of the first lord, relatively to the others. Two other navies, the German and the Japanese, which with the British, are the most efficient navies in the world, have systems somewhat different from the British. In Germany and Japan the Emperor is the head of the navy, and there is no civilian between him and it. In Germany there is no minister of marine, unless the Emperor himself may be said to be the minister, which he practically is; and the navy is divided into three parts, each under an admiral. The three parts are the General Staff, which deals with war plans and fundamental questions; the naval cabinet, which deals with matters of personnel; and the administrative section, which has to do with questions of material, including money, and the getting of money from Parliament. In Japan the minister of marine is by law a naval officer, and under him is a chief of staff, also a naval officer. The minister of marine has the direction of the navy as a whole, but the ideas of the chief of staff are supposed to be carried out in matters that are strictly naval. The Japanese naval officer has a higher regard for the office of chief of staff than for that of minister of marine, because it is given for professional excellence only. It might seem at first sight that in Germany and Japan there would be danger of a lack of co-ordination between the civil and the naval authorities, and a tendency for the navy to become unduly self-assertive. Of course, one reason why there is no such danger is that the governments of those countries are controlled by men who, though civilians, have great knowledge of international affairs, and of military and naval subjects; another reason is that the navy is so vital a matter, accurate knowledge about it is so general, and interest in it so wide-spread and intense, that there is no great gulf fixed between naval people and civilians. Still another reason is the fact that in each country the Emperor is trained in military and naval duties as well as in civil duties, and therefore can effect in his own person the co-ordination of the civil and the naval authority: that is, of policy and strategy. Such automatic and complete co-ordination is desirable not only in preventing the unnatural barrier between the civil and the military authority which exists in some countries such as ours, but in lightening the labors and enlightening the deliberations of the strategists. If, for instance, a bold policy is to be enforced, and a large sum of money allotted for material and personnel, the strategists will be led to recommendations different from those to which they would be led if a cautious policy were to be pursued, and a small sum of money to be allotted. Germany did not turn her eyes seriously toward the navy until the Emperor William II read Mahan's book, "The Influence of Sea Power upon History." Previous to that epochal event, Germany had relied on her army to protect her interests and enforce her rights, being led thereto by the facts of her history and the shortness of her coast-line. But the strategically trained mind of William grasped at once the situation laid bare by Mahan; and his military training led him to quick decision and prompt action. The necessary machinery was soon set in motion, with the amazing result that in twenty years the German navy became the second in power and perhaps the first in efficiency in the world. Was this feat accomplished by prodigal expenditures in building vessels and other material of all kinds, and enlisting and commissioning a large number of officers and men? No, the expense was less than that of building our navy, even if a liberal allowance be made for the relative cheapness of things in Germany; and the mere enlisting and commissioning of officers and men was the simplest part of the undertaking. How was it accomplished? In the simplest way imaginable: by following Moltke's plan of solving hypothetical war problems, and adapting the military war game (_Kriegspiel_) to naval forces; playing numberless war games, and deciding from those games the naval strategy best adapted to Germany's needs--not only in matters of general principle, not only as to tactics, training, education, co-operation with the army, and the size of fleet required to carry out the policy of the nation--but also as to the composition of the fleet, relative proportions of vessels of the various types, and the characteristics of each type. Nothing was left to chance; nothing was decided by guessing; no one man's dictum was accepted. The whole problem was attacked in its entirety, and a general solution found; and after this, the various divisions and subdivisions of the problem were attacked and solved, in obedience to the same principles, in accordance with the results obtained at _Kriegspiel_. If a very large and complicated engine of new pattern is to be built by any engineering company, no casting of the smallest kind is made until general plans have been outlined, detailed plans prepared from these, and then "working plans" made for the workmen. From the working plans, the workmen construct the various parts; sometimes in number several hundred. Finally, the whole intricate machine is put together, and the motive power applied. Then all the parts, great and small, begin their allotted tasks, each part perfectly adapted to its work, not too large and not too small; all working together in apparent confusion, but in obedience to law--fulfilling exactly the will of the designing engineer. So, the vast and new machine of the German navy was designed in the drafting-room of the _Kriegspiel_; and though it has been gradually strengthened and enlarged since then, each strengthening piece and each addition has been designed in accordance with the original plan, and has therefore harmonized with the original machine. Thus the navy has expanded smoothly, symmetrically, purposefully. No other result was to be expected: the strategy having been correct, the result was correct also. Perhaps one contributing factor to the success of the German navy has been her staff of officers highly trained in strategy by _Kriegspiel_, that insures not only sound advice in general, but also insures that at any time, night or day, a body of competent officers shall be ready at the admiralty to decide what action should be taken, whenever any new situation is reported. This factor is most important; because in naval and military operations, even in time of peace, but especially in war, events follow each other so rapidly, and momentous crises develop so suddenly, that the demand for action that shall be both wise and instantaneous is imperative. The chess-player can linger long over his decisions, because his opponent cannot make his next move meanwhile; but in warfare no such rule or condition can exist. In war, time is as vital a factor as any other: and the strategist, who, like Napoleon, can think faster and decide more quickly and accurately than his antagonist is, _ceteris paribus_, sure to win; and even if _ceteris_ are not quite _paribus_, his superior quickness and correctness will overcome great handicaps in material and personnel, as the lives of all the great strategists in history, especially Alexander and Napoleon, prove convincingly. To bring a preponderating force to bear at a given point ahead of the enemy--to move the maximum of force with the maximum of celerity--has always been the aim of strategy: and probably it always will be, for the science of strategy rests on principles, and principles never change. Thus while we see in Great Britain's navy an example of the effect of a strategy continuous and wise, conducted for three hundred years, we see in the Japanese and German navies equally good examples of a strategy equally wise, but of brief duration, which started with the example of the British navy, and took advantage of it. The German and Japanese navies did not follow the British navy slavishly, however; for the national military character of their people required the introduction and control of more military and precise methods than those of the primarily sailor navy of Great Britain. We see, therefore, a curious similarity between the German and Japanese navies, and very clear evidence in each of the engrafting of purely military ideals on maritime ideas. And we see not only this, we see the reaction on the British navy itself of the ideals of the German and the Japanese, and a decided change during the last ten years from the principles of "the blue-water school"; as evidenced mainly by the institution of a Naval War College, including a war staff, the employment at the admiralty of General Staff methods, though without the name; and the introduction into naval methods, especially naval gunnery, of mathematical procedures. Previous to the Japanese-Russian War, ten years ago, the strategy of the British navy may be characterized as physical rather than mental, depending on a superior number of ships and men; those ships and men being of a very high grade individually, and bound together by a discipline at once strict and sympathetic. All the personnel from the highest admiral to the humblest sailor prided themselves on being "British seamen," comrades of the sea, on whom their country placed her ultimate reliance. Maneuvers on a large scale were held, target practice was carried on with regularity--and navy ships carried the banner of Saint George over every sea, and displayed it in every port. Tactics and seamanship filled the busy days with drills of many kinds; but strategy, though not quite forgotten, did not command so large a portion of the officers' time and study as it did in Germany and Japan. The rapid success of the Germans and Japanese, however, in building up their navies, as instanced by the evident efficiency of the German fleet almost under the nose of England, and the triumph of the Japanese fleet in Tsushima Strait startled the British navy out of her conservatism, and caused her to proceed at full speed toward the modernization of her strategy. With the quick decision followed by quick action that characterizes the seaman everywhere, the British instituted a series of reforms, and prosecuted their efforts with such wisdom and such vigor, that, in the brief space of ten years, the British navy has been almost revolutionized. As in all such movements, the principal delay was in bringing about the necessary mental changes; the mental changes having been accomplished, the material changes followed automatically. The change whereby the German and Japanese navies became preceptors to their preceptor is like changes that occur in every-day life, and is one of many illustrations of how a young and vigorous individual or organization, endowed with proper energy and mentality, can appropriate whatever is valuable for its purposes from its elders, and reject whatever those elders have had fastened on them by circumstances or tradition, and develop a superior existence. It is a little like the advantage which a comparatively new city like Washington has over an old city like Boston, in being started after it was planned, instead of being started haphazard, without being planned at all. The United States navy was started not like the city of Washington, but like the city of Boston. It was modelled on the British navy; but since the United States has never taken an interest in its navy at all comparable with that taken by Great Britain in its navy, and since our navy has been built up by successive impulses from Congress and not in accordance with a basic plan, the lack of harmoniousness among its various parts reminds one of Boston rather than of Washington. Owing to the engineering and inventive genius of our people and the information we got from Europe, inferiority has not occurred in the units of the material: in fact, in some ways our material is perhaps the best of all. Neither has inferiority been evidenced in the personnel, as individuals; for the excellent physique and the mental alertness of the American have shown themselves in the navy as well as in other walks of life. In strategy, however, it must be admitted that we have little reason to be proud. We do very well in the elementary parts of the naval profession. In navigation, seamanship, gunnery, and that part of international law that concerns the navy we are as good as any. But of the higher branches, especially of strategy, we have little clear conception. How can we have? Strategy is one of the most complex arts the world contains; the masters in that art have borne such names as Alexander, Cæsar, Nelson, and Napoleon. Naval strategy is naval chess, in which battleships and other craft take the place of queens and other pieces. But it is a more complicated game than chess, for the reason that not only are there more kinds of "pieces," but the element of time exerts a powerful influence in strategy while it does not even exist in chess. The time element has the effect not only of complicating every situation, but also of compelling intense concentration of mind, in order to make decisions quickly; and often it forces decisions without adequate time for consideration, under circumstances of the utmost excitement, discomfort, and personal peril. One dislikes intensely to criticise his own country, even to himself. But when a naval officer is studying--as he should continually do--what must be done, in order to protect his country from attack by some foreign foe, it would be criminal folly for him to estimate the situation otherwise than honestly; and to do this, it is necessary to try to see where his country is weak and where strong, relatively to the possible foes in question. If we do this, and compare the strategical methods employed by--say Germany and us--we are forced to admit that the German methods are better adapted to producing economically a navy fitted to contend successfully in war against an enemy. In Germany the development of the navy has been strictly along the lines of a method carefully devised beforehand; in our country no method whatever is apparent, at least no logical method. Congress, and Congress alone, decides what vessels and other craft shall be built, how many officers and men shall wear the uniform. It is true that they consult the report of the secretary of the navy, and ask the opinions of some naval officers; and it is true that the secretary of the navy gets the opinions of certain naval officers including the General Board, before making his report. But both the secretary and Congress estimate the situation from their own points of view, and place their own value on the advice of naval officers. And the advice of these naval officers is not so valuable, possibly, as it might be; for the reason that it is really irresponsible, since the advisers themselves know that it will not be taken very seriously. The difference between the advice of men held responsible for the results of following their advice, and the advice of men not so held responsible, is well recognized, and is discussed fully in the reports of the Moody and the Swift Boards on the organization of the Navy Department. Furthermore, our officers do not have the machinery of the _Kriegspiel_ to help them. It is true that at the Naval War College, a war-game apparatus is installed and that war games are played, and war problems solved; but the officers there are very properly engaged in the regular work of a war college, in educating officers in the principles of warfare, and have little time for other work. It is also true that the war games and problems there do lead occasionally to recommendations by the War College to the General Board as to various matters; but the connection between the conclusions of the War College and the decisions of Congress via the General Board and the secretary of the navy is so fragile and discontinuous, that it may truthfully be said that the influence of the war games at our War College has but a faint resemblance to the determining force of the _Kriegspiel_ in Berlin. It is often said that Germany is an empire and the United States a republic, and that _therefore_ the military methods of Germany cannot be employed here. The inference is not necessarily correct, however, as is shown by the excellence of the army of France; for, France, although a republic, insists that military strategy only shall control and direct the army. The American Congress can do the same with the American navy. Whether Congress shall so decide or not, the decision will undoubtedly be wise; and we of the navy will do our utmost to make the navy all it should be. In this connection, it should be noted that: 1. Germany has been following a certain strategic system regarding the navy; we a system different from that of any other navy, which has been used now for about one hundred and forty years. Both systems have been in operation for a time sufficiently long to warrant our comparing them, by comparing the results they have achieved. 2. The German navy has been in existence a much shorter time than the American navy, belongs to a much less populous and wealthy country, and yet is not only about 30 per cent larger in material, and more than 100 per cent larger in trained personnel, but if we judge by maneuvers carried on in both peace and war, is much better in organization, morale, and capacity for doing naval work upon the ocean. We do not, of course, know what Germany has been doing since the war began on August 1, 1914; but all accounts show that Germany, like all the other belligerent Powers, has been adding units of material and personnel to her navy much more rapidly than they have been destroyed; as well as perfecting her strategy, under the influence of the war's stimulus. Leaving out of consideration, however, what she may have been doing since the war began, and neglecting any unauthenticated accounts of her status before it started, we know positively that in 1913 the maneuvers of the German fleet were executed by a force of 21 battleships, 3 battle cruisers, 5 small cruisers, 6 flotillas of destroyers (that is 66 seagoing torpedo vessels), 11 submarines, an airship, a number of aeroplanes and special service ships, and 22 mine-sweepers--all in one fleet, all under one admiral, and maneuvered as a unit. _This was nearly three years ago, and we have never come anywhere near such a performance_. In January, 1916, the United States Atlantic fleet, capable as to both material and personnel of going to sea and maneuvering together, consisted of 15 battleships and 23 destroyers, 2 mine-depot ships, and 1 mine-training ship, and 4 tugs fitted as mine-sweepers--with no submarines, no aircraft of any kind, no scouts (unless the _Chester_ be so considered, which was cruising alone off the coast of Liberia, and the _Birmingham_, which was flag-ship to the destroyer flotilla). This was the only fleet that we had ready to fight in January, 1916; because, although more battleships could have been put into commission, this could have been done only by putting out of commission certain smaller vessels, such as cruisers and gunboats; and the battleships would have had to be put into commission very hurriedly, filled up with men fresh from other ships, and no more ready to fight in the fleet against an enemy (whose ships were fully manned with well-trained officers and men, accustomed to the details of their respective ships, and acquainted with each other) than the _Chesapeake_ was ready to fight the _Shannon_. 3. In case our system is not so good as that of--say Germany--or of any other country having a system equally excellent, we shall _never_ be able to contend successfully against that navy, under equal strategic conditions, unless we have an excess over her in numbers of personnel and material sufficient to counteract our inferiority in efficiency. The efficiency of a navy or an army is exactly what the strategic system makes it. Eleven thousand Greeks under Miltiades, highly efficient and thoroughly trained, defeated 100,000 Persians at Marathon. A Greek fleet under Themistocies defeated and almost destroyed a much larger Persian fleet at Salamis. With an army of less than 35,000 men, but highly trained by Philip of Macedon, his father, Alexander, in only twelve years conquered ten of the most wealthy and populous countries of the world. Cæsar, Alaric, Attila, Charlemagne, and all the great military men from the greatest antiquity down to the present moment have trained and organized bodies of soldiers and sailors, under systems suited to the times, and then waged successful war on peoples less militarily efficient. Cortez conquered Mexico, and Pizarro conquered Peru; the British, French, and Spanish subdued the Indians of North America, and during the latter half of the nineteenth century nearly all the land in the world that was "unoccupied" by Europeans or their descendants was taken in possession by European Powers. Great Britain is now mistress of about one-quarter of the land and the population of the globe. Russia, France, Germany, and the United States govern most of the remainder. These results were brought about almost solely by the exercise of military force:--and of this force, physical courage was not a determining element, because it was just as evident in the conquered as in the conquerors. The determining element was strategy that (under the behest of policy) prepared the military and naval forces in material and personnel before they were used, and directed their operations, while they were being used. Of all the single factors that have actually and directly made the history of the world, the most important factor has been strategy. CHAPTER VIII DESIGNING THE MACHINE The most important element connected with a navy is the strategy which directs it, in accordance with which all its plans are laid--plans for preparation before war and plans for operations during war. Strategy is to a navy what mind is to a man. It determines its character, its composition, its aims; and so far as external conditions will permit, the results which it accomplishes. It is possible for certain features connected with a navy to be good, even if the strategy directing it be faulty; or for those features to be faulty, even if the strategy directing it be good. Experience has shown, however, that, in any organization the influence of the men at the top, and the effect of the policy they adopt, is so great that the whole organization will in the main be good or bad according to the kind of men that control it, and the methods they employ. The better the discipline of the organization, the more completely the quality of the management will influence the whole, and the more essential it becomes that good methods be employed. Good discipline means concentration of the effort of the organization; and the more concentrated any effort is, the more necessary that it be directed aright. The simplest illustration of this is seen in naval gunnery; for there the effect of good fire-control is to limit the dispersion of the various shots fired, relatively to each other; to make a number of shots fired simultaneously to bunch closely together, that is to concentrate; getting away from the shotgun effect, and approximating the effect of a single shot. Obviously, if the fire-control and the skill of the gunners are so great that the shots fall very close together, the chance of hitting the target is less than if the shots did not fall close together, if the range at which the guns are fired is incorrect. A mathematical formula showing the most effective dispersion for a given error in range was published in the _Naval Institute_ by Lieutenant-Commander B. A. Long, U. S. N., in December, 1912. So, we see that if the strategy directing a navy is incorrect, we can accomplish little by improving the discipline, and may do harm; when unwise orders have been given in the past, those orders have sometimes been disobeyed with beneficial effect. Neither would it avail much to improve the details of the material or personnel, or to spend much money; for there is no benefit to be derived from building fine ships, if they are to be captured by the enemy. If the Russian fleet sent to Tsushima had been weaker than it was, the loss to Russia would have been less. Inasmuch as strategy, however, includes all the means taken to make a navy effective, it is obvious that a good strategical direction will be more likely to result in good discipline and good material than would a poor strategy. But this is not necessarily so, for the reason that a strategy may be in the main faulty, and yet be good in certain ways--especially in attention to details, for which a high degree of mentality is not required. In the same way, an individual who is short-sighted and imperfectly educated may be a most excellent and useful member of society, provided he is not permitted to use power in matters beyond his vision. An illustration of how an incorrect point of view does not necessarily injure, but may even benefit in details is shown by certain militia regiments, which are able to surpass some regiments of the regular army in many details of the drill, and in general precision of movement. In fact, a very wise strategical direction has as one of its most important functions the division of study and labor among various lines of action, and in deciding which lines are important and which not: and for this reason may--and often does--limit labor, and therefore perfection of result, along lines which a less wise strategy would not limit. Illustrations of the casting aside of rigid and difficult forms of drill during the past fifty years in armies, and the substitution of more easy methods are numerous. This does not indicate, however, that a wise strategy may not encourage rigid forms of drill, for the army which is directed with the greatest strategical skill is the German, and no army has more precise methods, not only of procedure, but of drill. The Prussian army of Frederick William which Frederick the Great inherited was not more rigidly drilled in some particulars than the German army of to-day, fought by Frederick the Great's great-great-great-grandnephew, William II. So we see that a wise and far-sighted strategy does not necessarily either frown on or encourage attention to details; it merely regulates it, deciding in each case and for each purpose what degree of attention to detail is best. The most obvious work of naval strategy, and therefore the work that impresses people most, is in directing naval forces against an enemy in war. But it is clear that before this can be done effectively strategy must first have made plans of preparation in time of peace; and it is equally clear that, previous to this, strategy must first determine the units of the force and their relation to each other: it must, in other words, design the machine. Evidently, therefore, _the work of strategy is three-fold: first, to design the machine; second, to prepare it for war; and, third, to direct its operations during war_. A navy being a machine composed of human and material parts, it is clear that the work of designing it correctly should take account of all the parts at the outset; and not only this--the whole design should be completed before any parts are made and put together if the best results are to be obtained. This is the practice in making material machines in manufacturing establishments--and no other practice there could be successfully pursued. It is the outcome of the experience of tens of thousands of men for many years--and the result of the expenditure of tons of money. This remark as to manufacturing establishments does not include the development of new ideas, for which experimentation or original research is needed; because it is sometimes necessary, when venturing into untrodden fields, to test out by mere trial and error certain parts or features before determining enough of their details to warrant incorporating them in the drawing of the whole machine. Similarly, some experiments must be made in the methods, organization, and material of the naval machine; but in this, case, as in the case of manufacturing establishments, the experimental work, no matter how promising or alluring, must be recognized as of unproved and doubtful value; and no scheme, plan, or doctrine must be incorporated in the naval machine, or allowed to pose as otherwise than experimental, until successful trials shall have put it beyond the experimental stage. The naval machine consists obviously of two parts, the personnel and the material; these two parts being independent, and yet mutually dependent, like the parts of any other organism. Obviously, the parts are mutually dependent not only in the quantitative sense that the more numerous the material parts the more numerous must be the personnel to operate them, but also in the qualitative sense that the various kinds of material determine the various kinds of personnel that must be provided to operate them with success. Gunners are needed to handle guns, and engineers to handle engines. In this respect, personnel follows material. In the galley days only two kinds of personnel were needed--sailors to handle the galleys (most of these being men merely to pull on oars)--and soldiers to fight, when the galleys got alongside of the enemy. Ship organization remained in a condition of great simplicity until our Civil War; for the main effort was to handle the ships by means of their sails, the handling of the simple battery being a very easy matter. Every ship was much like every other ship, except in size; and in every ship the organization was simple and based mostly on the necessities of handling the ship by sails. The first important change from this condition followed the departure of the Confederate ironclad _Virginia_ (_Merrimac_) carrying 10 guns and 300 men from the Norfolk Navy Yard on the 8th of March, 1862, and her sinking hardly two hours afterward the Union sloop of war _Cumberland_, carrying 24 guns and 376 men; and then destroying by fire the Union frigate _Congress_, carrying 50 guns and 434 men. The second step was taken on the following day, when the Union _Monitor_, 2 guns and 49 men, defeated the _Merrimac_. These two actions on two successive days are the most memorable naval actions in history from the standpoint of naval construction and naval ordnance, and perhaps of naval strategy; because they instituted a new era--the era of mechanism in naval war. The next step was the successful attack by the Confederate "fish-torpedo boat" _David_, on the Union ironclad _Housatonic_ in Charleston harbor on February 17, 1864; and the next was the sinking of the Confederate ironclad _Albemarle_ by a spar torpedo carried on a little steam-launch commanded by Lieutenant W. B. Cushing, U. S. N., on October 27, 1864. These four epochal events in our Civil War demonstrated the possibilities of mechanism in naval warfare, and led the way to the use of the highly specialized and scientific instruments that have played so important a part in the present war. During the half-century that has intervened since the _Monitor_ and _Merrimac_ ushered in the modern era, since the five brave crews of the _David_ lost their lives, and since Cushing made his amazing victory, a contest between the sailor and the scientist has been going on, as to which shall be deemed the ultimate master of the sea. As in many contests, the decision has gone unqualifiedly to neither; for he who sails the sea and braves its tempests, must be in heart and character a sailor--and yet he who fights the scientific war-craft of the present day cannot be merely a sailor, like him of the olden kind, but must be what the _New York Times_, a few years ago, laughingly declared to be a combination quite unthinkable, "a scientific person and a sailor." Each year since the fateful 8th of March, 1862, has seen some addition to the fighting machinery of navies. Some appliances have been developed gradually from their first beginnings, and are to-day substantially what they were at first--but of course improved; among these are the turret, the automobile torpedo, the telescope-sight, the submarine, and the gyrocompass. Many other appliances found favor for a while and then, having demonstrated the value of what they attempted and did perform, were gradually supplemented by improved devices, doing the same thing, but in better ways; in this class are many forms of interior-communication apparatus, especially electrical. Still other appliances are adaptations to ship and naval life of devices used in civil life--such as the telephone, electric light, and radio. Each of these appliances has required for its successful use the educating of men to use it, and frequently the creation and organization of entirely new branches of the service; an illustration is the radio corps in each of our large ships. At the present time the attitude of officers and of the department itself is so much more favorable to new appliances that a clear probability of a new device being valuable is a sufficient stimulus to bring about the education of men to use it; but a very few years ago many devices were lost to us because they were considered "not adapted naval use." Now we endeavor to adapt them. The present complexity of our material is therefore reflected in the complexity of the organization of our personnel; and as it is the demands of material that regulate the kind of personnel, and as a machine must be designed and built before men can learn to use it, it follows that our personnel must lag behind our material--that our material as material must be better than our personnel as personnel. It may be answered that all our material is first invented, then designed, and then constructed by men; that men create our material appliances (though not the matter of which they are composed), that the created cannot be better than the creator; and that therefore it is impossible for our material to be better than our personnel. But to this objection it may be pointed out that only a very small proportion of our personnel are employed in creating; that most of them are engaged merely in using the material with whatever degree of skill they possess, and that, if a man uses an instrument with perfect skill, he then succeeds merely in getting out of that instrument all that there is in it. A soldier's musket, for instance, is a very perfect tool--very accurate, very powerful, very rapid; and no marksman in the world is so skilful that he can shoot the musket with all the accuracy and speed of which the gun itself is capable. This indicates that the personnel of a navy is harder to handle than the material, and that therefore the most effort is required to be expended on the personnel. The strength of any system depends on the strength of its weakest part; in any organism, human or material, effort is best expended on the weak points rather than on the strong. Recognition of this principle is easy, but carrying out the principle in practice is most difficult. One reason is the difficulty of seeing always where the weak spot is; but a greater difficulty is due to the fact that the principle as above stated must be modified by the consideration that things which are important need attention more than things that are unimportant. A weak point in any organism deserves attention more than a strong point of the same order of importance, or than a strong point in the same class; but not, necessarily more than a strong point of a higher order of importance, or a strong point in another class. It may be more beneficial, for instance, to drill an ineffective turret crew than to try to reduce friction in a training gear already nearly frictionless; or it may be more beneficial to overcome the faults of a mediocre gun-pointer than to develop still more highly the skill already great of another gun-pointer; but, on the other hand, it may be less beneficial to drill boat crews at boat-sailing, even if they need it, than to drill them at landing as armed forces on the beach, though they may do that pretty well; or it may be better not to have boat drill at all and to get under way for fleet drill, even though the ships are very expert at it. It is true that in any endeavor where many things are to be done, as in a navy, it is important that nothing be neglected; and yet, under the superintendence of any one, there are some things the doing of which requires priority over other things. The allotting of the scientifically correct amount of time, energy, and attention to each of the various things claiming one's attention is one of the most difficult, and yet one of the most important problems before any man. It requires an accurate sense of proportion. Naturally the problem increases in complexity and importance the higher the position, and the greater the number of elements involved--being more difficult and important for instance in the office of the commander-in-chief of a fleet, whose time and attention have to be divided among multitudinous matters, than in that of captain of a single ship. For this reason, _the higher one is in position, the more imperative it is that he understand all elements involved, and estimate properly their various weights_. The success or non-success of a man in high authority depends largely on how his sense of proportion leads him to allot his time. But a matter fully as important as the allotment of time and attention to the consideration of various matters by the various members of the personnel is the allotment of money for the various items, especially of the material; for, after all, every navy department or admiralty must arrange its demands for ships, guns, men, etc., with reference to the total amount of money which the nation will allot. For this purpose, only one good means of solution has thus far been devised--the game-board. The game-board, naturally, tries out only the units that maneuver on the ocean; it does not try out the mechanism inside those units, because they can be tried out best by engineering methods. The province of the game-board is merely to try out on a very small scale, under proper conventions or agreements, things that could not be tried out otherwise, except at great expense, and very slowly; to afford a medium, half-way between actual trials with big ships and mere unaided reasoning, for arriving at correct conclusions. When the game-board is not used, people conferring on naval problems can do so only by forming pictures in their own minds, endeavoring to describe those pictures to the others (in which endeavor they rarely perfectly succeed) while at the same time, trying to see the pictures that are in the minds of the others--and then comparing all the pictures. The difficulty of doing this is shown by a little paragraph in "The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table," in which Dr. Holmes points out that when John and Thomas are talking, there are really six persons present--the real John, the person John thinks himself to be, the person Thomas thinks him to be, the real Thomas, the person Thomas thinks himself to be, and the person John thinks him to be. The conditions surrounding John and Thomas are those of the simplest kind, and the conversation between them of the most uncomplicated character. But when--not two people but--say a dozen or more, are considering highly complicated questions, such as the House Naval Committee discuss when officers are called to testify before them, no two of the twenty congressmen can form the same mental picture when an officer uses the word--say "fleet." The reason is simply that very few of the congressmen hearing that word have ever seen a fleet; none of them know exactly what it is, and every one forms a picture which is partly the result of all his previous education and experience; which are different from the previous education and experience of every other congressman on the committee. Furthermore, no one of the officers uses words exactly as the other officers do; and the English language is too vague (or rather the usual interpretation put on words is too vague) to assure us that even ordinary words are mutually understood. For instance, the question is asked: "Do you consider it probable that such or such a thing would happen?" Now what does the questioner mean by "probable," and what does the officer think he means? Mathematically, the meaning of "probable" is that there is more than 50 per cent of chance that the thing would happen; but who in ordinary conversation uses that word in that way? That this is not an academic point is shown by the fact that if the answer is "no" the usual inference from the answer is that there is no need for guarding against the contingency. Yet such an inference, if the word "probable" were used correctly by both the questioner and the answerer, would be utterly unjustified, because the necessity for taking precautions against a danger depends not so much on its probability or improbability, as on the degree of its probability; and to an equal degree on the greatness of the danger that impends. If the occurrence of a small mishap has a probability say of even 75 per cent, there may be little necessity of guarding against it; while if the danger of total destruction has a probability as low as even 1 per cent, we should guard against it sedulously. The more complicated the question, the more elements involved, the more difficult it is to settle it wisely by mere discussion. The effort of the imagination of each person must be directed not so much to getting a correct mental picture of what the words employed describe, as to getting a correct picture of what the person using the words desires them to describe. Any person who has had experience in discussions of this character knows what an effort this is, even if he is talking with persons whom he has known for years, and with whose mental and lingual characteristics he is well acquainted: and he also knows how much more difficult it is when he is talking with persons whom he knows but slightly. It may here be pointed out how greatly the imaginations of men differ, and how little account is taken of this difference in every-day life. In poetry and fiction imagination is recognized; and it is also recognized to some extent in painting, inventing, and, in general, in "the arts." But in ordinary life, the difference among men in imagination is almost never noticed. Yet a French proverb is "point d'imagination, point de grand general"; and Napoleon indicated a danger from untrained imagination in his celebrated warning to his generals not to make "pictures" to themselves of difficulties and disasters. The difference in imagination among men is shown clearly by the difference--and often the differences--between inventors and engineers, and the scarcity of men who are both inventors and engineers. Ericsson repudiated the suggestion that he was an inventor, and stoutly and always declared he was an engineer. This was at a time, not very long ago, when it was hardly respectable to be an inventor; when, even though men admitted that some inventors had done valuable work, the work was supposed to be largely a chance shot of a more or less crazy man. Yet Ericsson was an inventor--though he was an engineer. So were Sir William Thompson (afterward Lord Kelvin), Helmholtz, Westinghouse, and a very few others; so are Edison and Sperry. Many inventors, however, live in their imaginations mainly--some almost wholly. Like Pegasus, they do not like to be fastened to a plough or anything else material. Facts, figures, and blue-prints fill their souls with loathing, and bright generalities delight them. The engineer, on the other hand, is a man of brass and iron and logarithms; in imagination he is blind, in flexibility he resembles reinforced concrete. He is the antipodes of the inventor; he despises the inventor, and the inventor hates him. Fortunately, however, there is a little bit of the inventor in most engineers, and a trace of the engineer in most inventors; while in some inventors there is a good deal of the engineer. And once in a while we meet a man who carries both natures in his brain. That man does marvels. Despite the great gulf normally fixed, however, between the engineer and the inventor, most of the definite progress of the world for the past one hundred years has been done by the co-ordination of the two; a co-ordination accomplished by "the man of business." Now the inventor and engineer type do not exist only in the world of engineering and mechanics, though it is in that world that they are the most clearly recognized; for they exist in all walks of life. In literature, inventors write novels; in business life, they project railroads; in strategy, they map out new lines of effort. In literature, the engineer writes cyclopædias; in business, he makes the projected railroads a success; in strategy, he works out logistics and does the quantitative work. In that part of strategy of which we are now thinking--the designing of the naval machine--the inventor and the engineer clearly have two separate lines of work: one line the conceiving, and the other line the constructing, of strategic and tactical methods, and of material instruments to carry out those methods. Clearly, these two lines of work while independent are mutually dependent; and, if properly carried out are mutually assistant. The coworking of the inventor and the engineer is a little like that coworking of theory and practice, which has been the principal factor in bringing about the present amazing condition of human society commonly called "Modern Civilization." The shortcomings of human speech are most evident in discussing complicated matters; and for this reason speech is supplemented in the engineering arts by drawings of different kinds. No man ever lived who could describe a complicated machine accurately to a listener, unless that machine differed but little from a machine with which the listener was acquainted. But hand a drawing of even a very complicated machine to a man who knows its language--and the whole nature of the object is laid bare to him; not only its general plan and purpose, but its details, with all their dimensions and even the approximate weights. So, when the forces representing a complicated naval situation are placed upon the game-board, all the elements of the problem appear clearly and correctly to each person; the imagination has little work to do, and the chance for misunderstanding is almost negligible. Of course, this does not mean that the game-board can decide questions with absolute finality. It cannot do this; but that is only because conditions are represented with only approximate realism, because the rules of the game may not be quite correct, and because sufficient correct data cannot be procured. The difficulties of securing absolute realism are of course insuperable, and the difficulties of getting absolutely correct data are very great. The more, however, this work is prosecuted, the more clearly its difficulties will be indicated, and therefore the more effectively the remedies can be provided. The more the game-board is used both on ship and shore, the more ease will be found in getting correct data for it, and the more correctly conclusions can then be deduced. These remarks, while intended for tactical games, seem to apply to strategical games as well; for both the tactical and the strategical games are simply endeavors to represent actual or probable situations and occurrences in miniature, by arbitrary symbols, in accordance with well-understood conventions. War games and war problems have not yet been accepted by some; for some regard them as games pure and simple and as academic, theoretical, and unpractical. It may be admitted that they are academic and theoretical; but so is the science of gunnery, and so is the science of navigation. In some ways, however, the lessons of the game-board are better guides to future work than "practical" and actual happenings of single battles: for in single battles everything is possible, and some things happen that were highly improbable and were really the result of accident. After nearly every recent war there has been a strong move made toward the adoption of some weapon, or some method, that has attained success in that war. For instance, after our Civil War, many monitors were built, and the spar torpedo was installed in all our ships; after the battle of Lissa, the ram was exploited as the great weapon of the future; the Japanese War established the heavily armed and armored battleships on a secure foundation; and the early days of the present war caused a great rush toward the submarine. Yet, in most cases, the success was a single success or a very few successes, and was a little like the throw of a die, in the sense that the result was caused in great measure by accident; that is, by causes beyond the control of man, or by conditions that would probably not recur. The game calls our attention to the influence of chance in war, and to the desirability of our recognizing that influence and endeavoring to eliminate it, when reasoning out the desirability or undesirability of a certain weapon or a certain method. Of course, every thoughtful person realizes that few effects in life are due to one cause only, and that most effects are due to a combination of many causes; so that, if any weapon or method succeeds or fails, it is illogical to infer from that one fact that the weapon or method is good or bad. A common illustration is the well-known fact that a marksman may hit the target when his aim is too high or too low, provided that he has erroneously set his sight enough too low or too high to compensate; whereas if he had made only one error instead of two, he would have missed. "Two wrongs cannot make a right," but two errors can compensate each other, and often do. The theory of the Probability of Errors recognizes this. In fact, if it were not true that some errors are plus and some minus, all errors in gunnery (in fact in everything) would be additive to each other, and we should live in a world of error. The partial advantage of the game-board over the occurrences of actual war, for the purpose of studying strategy, lies largely in its ability to permit a number of trials very quickly; the trials starting either with identical situations, or with certain changes in conditions. Of course, the game-board has the tremendous disadvantage that it presents only a picture, and does not show a real performance; but the more it is used, and the more fleets and game-boards work together, the more accurate the picture will become, and the more correctly we shall learn to read it. One limitation of the game-board is that it can represent weather conditions only imperfectly--and this is a serious limitation that mayor may not be remedied as time goes on. The theory of the game-board is in fact in advance of the mechanism, and is waiting for some bright inventive genius for the remedy. Until this happens, the imagination must do the best it can, and the effect of a certain kind of weather under the other conditions prevailing will have to be agreed upon by the contestants. The term "war game" is perhaps unfortunate, for the reason that it does not convey a true idea of what a "war game" is. The term conveys the idea of a competitive exercise, carried on for sport; whereas the idea underlying the exercise is of the most serious kind, and has no element of sport about it, except the element that competition gives. A war game may be simply a game of sport--and sometimes it is so played; but the intention is to determine some doubtful point of strategy or tactics, and the competitive element is simply to impart realism, and to stimulate interest. When two officers, or two bodies of officers, find themselves on different sides of a certain question, they sometimes "put it on the game-board," to see which side is right. This statement applies most obviously to tactical games; but it applies to strategic games as well; for both are inventions designed to represent in miniature the movements of two opposing forces. The main difference between strategic and tactical games is the difference in size. Naturally, the actual means employed are different, but only so different as the relative areas of movement necessitate. In the strategic games, the opposing forces are far apart, and do not see each other; in the tactical games, they operate within each other's range of vision. War games when played for the purpose of determining the value of types of craft and vessels of all kinds, may take on almost an infinite variety of forms; for the combinations of craft of different kinds and sizes, and in different numbers, considered in connection with the various possible combinations of weather, climate, and possible enemy forces, are so numerous as to defy computation. In practice, however, and in a definite problem, the number of factors can be kept down by assuming average conditions of weather, using the fairly well-known enemy force that would appear in practice, and playing games in which the only important variable is the kind of vessel in question. For instance, in the endeavor to ascertain the value of the battle cruiser, games can be played in which battle cruisers are only on one side, or in which they are more numerous, or faster or more powerful on one side than on the other. Naturally, the games cannot be as valuable practically as they otherwise would be, unless they consider the amount of money available. For instance, if games are played to ascertain the most effective number and kinds of craft for which to ask appropriations from Congress at next session, the solution, unless a money limit were fixed, would be impossible. In other words, the amount of money to be expended must be one of the known or assumed factors in the problem. As this amount can never be known, it must be assumed; and, in order that the whole value of the games may not be lost, in case the amount assumed were incorrect, it is necessary to assume a number of possible sums, the upper limit being above the probable amount to be received, and the lower limit below it, and then work out the answer to the problem, under each assumption. Of course, this procedure would be laborious, but most procedures are that bring about the best results. Suppose that such a procedure were followed for, say, a year, and that a number of plans, all worked out, were presented to Congress when it met: plan No. 1, for instance, consisting of such and such craft showing (according to the results of the games) the best programme, if $100,000,000 were to be appropriated for the increase of the navy; plan No. 2, if $90,000,000 were to be appropriated; plan No. 3, if $80,000,000 were to be appropriated, and so on. Each plan being concisely and clearly stated, and accompanied by drawings, sketches, and descriptions, Congress could easily and quickly decide which plan it would adopt. This scheme would have the obvious advantage over the present scheme that the professional questions would be decided by professional men, while the financial question would be decided by Congress, which alone has the power to decide it. At present, the laymen on the House Naval Committee spend laborious days interrogating singly, and on different days, various naval officers, who naturally do not always agree. Finally, the House Naval Committee decides on a programme and recommends it to the House. The House discusses it most seriously (the professional points more seriously than the financial point), and decides on something. Then the Senate Committee, using the House decision as a basis, recommends something to the Senate, and the Senate then decides on something more or less like what the Senate Committee recommends. Then the whole question is decided by a Conference Committee of three senators and three members of the House. It is to be noted that this committee decides not only how much money the country shall spend on the navy, but also what kinds of vessels navy officers shall use to fight in the country's defense; how many officers there shall be, and how they shall be divided among the various grades! Attention is requested here to the _ease_ with which a decision can be made, _provided one does not take into account all of the factors of a problem, or if he is not thoroughly acquainted with them_; and attention is also requested to the _impossibility_ of making a _wise_ decision (except by chance) unless one understands _all_ the factors, takes _all_ into consideration, and then combines them _all_, assigning to each its proper weight. From one point of view, every problem in life is like a problem in mathematics; for if all the factors are added, subtracted, multiplied, and divided correctly (that is, if they are combined correctly), and if correct values are assigned to them, the correct answer is inevitable. In most of the problems of life, however, certainly in the problems of strategy, we do not know all of the factors, and cannot assign them their exactly proper weights; and therefore we rarely get the absolutely correct answer. The best that any man can do is to estimate the factors as accurately as he can, judge as correctly as he can their interaction on each other, and then make his own conclusion or decision. When a man can do this well in the ordinary affairs of life, he is said to be "a man of good judgment"; when he can do it well in a certain line of work--say investments in real estate--he is said to have good judgment in real estate. The use of the word "judgment" here is excellent, because it expresses the act of a judge, who listens patiently to all the evidence in a case and then gives his decision. And the act of the judge, and the act of any man in coming carefully to any decision, consist mainly in estimating the relative values of all the factors, and their relations to each other ("sizing them up" is the expressive slang), and then perceiving with more or less correctness what the answer is. Some men do not have good judgment; some men highly educated, brilliant, and well-meaning, seem never to get quite the correct answer to any problem in life. They are said to be unsuccessful and no one knows why. Perhaps they lack that instinctive sense of proportion that some men have--a sense as real as an "ear for music"; or perhaps they lack a willingness or a capability to think about a situation with sufficient intentness to force a clear picture of the situation with all its various features upon the mental retina. The ability to make a mental picture, be it of a machine, of any group of material objects, such as the various units of a fleet organized as such, or of any other situation, varies with different men; but like every other kind of ability, it can be strengthened by practice, and assisted by appropriate means. In the engineering arts, the practice is gotten by observing and remembering actual machines; and the assistance is given by drawings of different kinds. In strategy, the practice is given by observing and remembering the movements of actual fleets; and the assistance by means of drawings of different kinds, and by war problems, and the game-board. The game-board represents a number of successive pictures, and is not very different in principle from moving-pictures. In fact, the suggestion has been made repeatedly for several years and is now in process of development that the various situations in tactical games might advantageously be photographed on films and afterward projected in rapid succession on a screen. One of the curious limitations of the naval game board, both in tactical and strategic games, is that it takes no account of personnel; that it assumes that all the various units are manned by crews that are adequate both in numbers and in training. Of course, it would be impracticable to test say the relative values of kinds of vessels, unless all the factors of the problem were the same, except the two factors that were competing. Therefore the limitation mentioned is not mentioned as a criticism, but simply to point out that the game-board, in common with most of the other means of discussion in naval matters, has gradually led people to think of naval matters in terms of material units only. That such an unfortunate state of affairs has come to pass can be verified by reading almost any paper, even professional, that speaks about navies; for one will be confronted at once with the statement that such and such a navy consists of such and such ships, etc. Since when has a navy consisted of brass and iron? Since when has the mind and character of man taken a place subordinate to matter? At what time did the change occur whereby the instrument employed dominated the human being who employed it? That this is not an academic point, or an unimportant thing to bear in mind is evidenced by countless facts in history. In order not to tire the reader, mention will be made of only one fact, the well-known fight between the American frigate _Chesapeake_, and the British frigate _Shannon_ to which I have already referred. These two ships were almost identical in size and in the number and kinds of guns, and in the number of officers and crew, and the battle was fought on June 1, 1813, in Massachusetts Bay, under circumstances of weather and other conditions that gave no advantage to either. If material and numbers of personnel were the only factors in the fight, the fight would have continued very long and ended in a draw. Did these things occur? No, the _Chesapeake_ was captured in a little less than fifteen minutes after the first gun was fired, and nearly half her crew were killed or wounded! It would be tiresome to recount all the battles both on sea and land, in which smaller forces defeated forces numerically greater; but it may not be possible by any other means to force the fact on the attention--even sometimes of naval officers--that material vessels, guns, etc., are merely instruments, and that the work gotten out of any instrument depends not only on the instrument itself, but on the skill with which it is employed. Usually, when thinking or speaking of the power of any instrument (or means or method or organization) we mean the power of which it is capable; that is, the result which it can produce, _if used with_ 100 _per cent of skill_. Possibly, we are subconsciously aware that we assume perfect skill; but whether we are or not, we have become so accustomed to the tacit acceptance of the phrase, "other things being equal," that we have come to forget that other things may not be equal at all; and that they certainly will not be on the day of trial, if we forget or undervalue those other things, while our antagonist does not. Let us always remember, then, that the effective work gotten out of any means or instrument is the product of the maximum capability of the means or instrument and the skill with which it is used; that, for instance, if two fleets fight, which are numerically equal in material and personnel, but in which the skill of the personnel of the A fleet is twice as great as the skill of the personnel of the B fleet, the A fleet will be twice as powerful as the B fleet. It may be objected that it would be absurd to assume the skill of the personnel in one fleet as twice as great as that of the personnel in the other fleet, but it can easily be shown that even so great a disproportion is not impossible, provided the skill in one fleet is very great. The value of superior skill naturally becomes important where the difficulties are great. A very simple illustration is in firing a gun; for even if the skill of one marksman be greater than that of another, it will be unimportant, if the target is so large and so close that even the inferior marksman can hit it at each shot. The probability of hitting a target--so far as overs and shorts are concerned (or deviations to the left and right)--varies with the fraction _a/y_, where _a_ is the half height (or width) of the target, and _y_ is the mean error. The greater the size of the target, and the less the mean error, the greater the probability of hitting. The size of the two targets being fixed, therefore, the smaller the mean error the greater the probability of hitting. The probability of hitting, however (as can be seen by the formula), does not increase greatly with the decrease of error, except in cases where _a/y_ is small, where the mean error is large relatively to the width or height of the target. For instance, if _a/y_ is .1 in one case, and .2 in another case, the probability is practically double in the second case; whereas, if _a/y_ is 1 in one case, and 2 in another, the probability increases only 55 per cent; while if it is 2 in one case and 4 in the other, the probability of hitting increases only 12 per cent. This means that if two antagonists engage, the more skilful should, and doubtless will, engage under difficult conditions, where _y_ is considerable relatively to _a_; for instance, at long range. Suppose that he engages at such a range that he can make 10 per cent of hits--that is, make 90 per cent of misses; and that his misses relatively to the enemy's is as 90 to 95--so that the enemy makes 95 per cent of misses. This does not seem to be (in fact it is not) an extreme case: and yet _A_ will hit _B_ twice as often as _B_ will hit _A_. In other words, the effective skill of _A_ will be twice that of _B_. This illustrates the effect of training--because all that training in handling any instrument can do is to attain as closely as possible to the maximum output of the instrument; and as the maximum output is attained only when the instrument is handled exactly as it should be handled, and as every departure is therefore an error in handling, we see that the effect of training is merely to diminish errors. That this illustration, drawn from gunnery, is applicable in general terms to strategy seems clear, for the reason that in every strategical situation, no matter how simple or how complex, there is, and can be only one _best_ thing to do; so that the statement of any strategic situation, if followed by a question as to what is the best thing to do, becomes a problem, to which the answer is--_the best thing to do_. Of course, in most strategic problems, there are so many factors almost unknown, and so many factors only imperfectly known, that we can rarely ascertain mathematically what is the best thing to do. Nevertheless, there must be a best thing to do, even if we never ascertain exactly what it is. Now in arriving at the decision as to the best thing to do, one estimates the weight of each factor and its bearing on the whole. If one estimates each factor correctly, that is, if he makes no errors in any estimate, and if he makes no error in summing up, he will make an absolutely correct decision; and any departure from correctness in decision can result from no other cause than from errors in his various estimates and in their final summation. In other words, skill in strategy is to be attained by the same process as is skill in other arts: by eliminating errors. So, when we take the decisions of the game-board and the war problem, we must not allow ourselves to forget that there has been a tacit assumption that the numbers and the skill of the personnel have been equal on the two sides; and we must supplement our decision as to the best material to be employed by another decision as to how we shall see to it that the assumption of equality of personnel shall be realized in fact--or rather that it shall be realized in fact that our personnel shall get the maximum of effectiveness out of the material. In designing the machine, therefore, we are confronted with the curious fact that, in general, we must design the various material parts before designing the personnel parts that are to operate them. The most obvious characteristic of the personnel parts is that the number of personnel parts shall be sufficient to operate the material parts. To ascertain the number of personnel parts, the only means is actual trial; though naturally, if we have previously ascertained the number of men needed to operate any kind of mechanism, say a certain kind and size of gun, we can estimate quite accurately the number needed to operate a similar gun, even if it differ somewhat from the other gun. After the gun is tried, however, we may have to change our original estimate, not only because the estimate may have been in error, but because the requirement of operating the gun may have changed. For instance, the requirements of fire-control have within very recent years compelled the addition of a considerable number of men to the complements of battleships. Now the need of supplying enough men to operate successfully any instrument or mechanism is absolute, for the reasons that the number of things to be done is fixed, and that an insufficient number of men in the ratio for instance of 9 to 8 may mean a falling off in the output of the machine much greater than in the ratio of 9 to 8. A simple illustration may be taken from the baseball game; for it is obvious that the output of a baseball team, in competition with other teams, would fall off in a much greater ratio than of 9 to 8, by leaving out one member of the nine. Another illustration, or rather an analogy, may be found in machinery made of rigid metal--say a steam-engine; for the omission of almost any part in an engine would entirely stop its operation. Not only, however, must we see that the number of personnel parts is sufficient, we must see that they are correctly divided among the various material parts; otherwise there will be too many in one place and too few in another; and while it is better to have too many men than too few, too many men prevent the attainment of the maximum effect. The effect of having too few men, however, is not merely in limiting the effectiveness of the output of the machine; for, if carried to a considerable degree, it prevents due care of the material parts themselves, and causes those material parts to deteriorate. This deterioration may take the form of actual wasting away as by rust; but even if the deterioration does not advance so far as actual wastage, it may easily, and often does, advance to the stage where, although not evidenced by visible rust or by any other indication, so long as the mechanism is not operated at its normal rate, it declares itself very clearly as soon as the mechanism is tried in service. For this reason, all mechanicians realize that it is better for every mechanism not to lie idle, but to be used considerably, though, of course, without being forced unduly. Not only also must the personnel be sufficient in number and correctly divided, it must be organized in such manner that the personnel itself will have the characteristics of a machine, in the sense that each unit will be so placed relatively to the hope of reward and the fear of punishment, that he will do his allotted tasks industriously; that he will have the place in the organization for which his character and abilities fit him, and that he will be given such duties and exercises as will fit him more and more for his position, and more and more for advancement to positions higher. Not only this, we must exercise foresight in the endeavor that the material parts and the personnel parts shall be ready at the same time, so that neither will have to wait for the other; and to insure the immediate availability when war breaks out, of sufficient trained personnel to man and fight effectively all the material units that we shall need to use. This raises the question: "What units shall we need?" The government itself must, of course, decide this matter; but it may be pointed out that if in any considerable war every unit we possess should not be utilized, the navy could not do as effective work as it otherwise could do. In the present war, the belligerents have not only utilized all the units that they had, they have built very many more, using the utmost possible diligence and despatch. In case we should be drawn into war with any considerable naval nation, all history and all reasoning show that we must do the same. Few considerable wars have been waged except with the greatest energy on each side; for each side knows that the scale may be turned by a trifling preponderance on one side; and that if the scale once be turned, it will be practically impossible ever to restore the balance. Every advantage gained makes one side relatively weaker to the other than it was before, and increases the chance that the same side will gain another advantage; gains and losses are cumulative in their effect. For this reason, it is essential, if we are to wage war successfully, that we start right, and send each unit immediately out to service, manned with a highly trained and skilful personnel; because that is what our foe will do. The Germans meet the difficulty of keeping their personnel abreast of their material very wisely. They utilize the winter months, when naval operations are almost impossible, for reorganizing and rearranging their personnel; so that when spring comes, they are ready in all their ships to start the spring drilling on a systematic plan. The crews being already organized, and the scheme of drills well understood, the work of getting the recruits versed in their relatively simple tasks and the more experienced men skilled in their new positions is quickly accomplished, and the fleet is soon ready for the spring maneuvers. The fundamental requirement of any organization of men is that it shall approach as closely as possible the characteristics of an organism, in which all the parts, though independent, are mutually dependent, each part doing its appropriate work without interfering with any other, but on the contrary assisting it. The most complex organization in the world is that of a navy, due primarily to the great variety of mechanisms in it, and secondarily to the great variety of trained bodies of men for handling those mechanisms. This variety extends from the highest posts to the lowest; and to make such varied organizations work together to a common end is one of the greatest achievements of civilized man. How it is accomplished is not clear at first view. It is not hard to see how a company of soldiers, drawn up in line, can be made to move as one body by order of the captain. But how in a battleship carrying a thousand men does the coal-passer in the fire-room do as the captain on the bridge desires? It may be objected that he does not--that the captain has no wishes regarding the doings of any coal-passer--that all the captain is concerned with is the doings of the ship as a whole. True, in a way; and yet if the various coal-passers, firemen, quartermasters, _et al_., do not do as the captain wishes, the ship as a whole will not. The secret of the success achieved seems to lie in the knitting together of all the personnel parts by invisible wires of common understanding, analogous to the visible wires that connect the helmsman with the steering-engine. In the case of any small body of men, say the force in one fire-room, the connecting wire joining each man to the petty officer in charge of that fire-room is almost visible, because the petty officer is familiar, by experience, with the work of each man; for he has done that work himself, knows just how it should be done, and knows how to instruct each man. But the more complicated the organization is, the more invisible are the communicating wires that tie the men together, and yet the more important it is that those wires shall tie them; it is even more important, for instance, that the wires connecting the chief engineer with all his force shall operate than that the wires in any one fire-room shall operate. And yet not only are there more wires, but the wires themselves that connect the chief engineer to all the men below him, are longer and more subject to derangement, than the wires that connect the petty officer of one fire-room to the individuals under him. The chief engineer, of course, is not tied directly to his coal-passers, but to men close to himself; close not only in actual distance, but in experience, knowledge, and sympathy; men who speak the same languages as he does, who understand what he means when he speaks, and who speak to him in ways he understands. These men immediately under him are similarly tied to their immediate subordinates by wires of knowledge, experience, and sympathy--these to their immediate subordinates, and so on. The same statement applies to the captain in his relations with the chief engineer. The captain may not be an experienced engineer himself; but he is familiar enough with engineering, with its difficulties, its possibilities, and its aims, to converse with the chief engineer in language which both clearly understand. The same principles seem to apply throughout the whole range of the personnel: so that, no matter how large the organization of any navy may be, there is--there must be, if good work is to be done--a network of invisible wires, uniting all together, by a strong yet flexible bond of sympathy. And has the material of the navy no connection with this bond? Who knows! Brass and steel are said to be lifeless matter. But does any naval man believe this wholly? Does any man feel that those battleships, and cruisers, and destroyers, and submarines are lifeless which he himself--with his own eyes--has seen darting swiftly, precisely, powerfully on perfect lines and curves, changing their relative positions through complicated maneuvers without accident or mistake? Can we really believe that they take no part and feel no pride in those magnificent pageants on the ocean? From the earliest times, men have personified ships, calling a ship "he" or "she," and giving ships the names of people, and of states; and is not a ship with its crew a living thing, as much as the body of a man? The body of a man is in part composed of bones and muscles, and other parts, as truly things of matter as are the hull and engines of a ship. It is only the spirit of life that makes a man alive, and permits the members of his body, like the members of a ship, to perform their appointed tasks. But even if this notion seems fanciful and absurd, we must admit that as surely as the mind and brain and nerves and the material elements of a man must be designed and made to work in harmony together, so surely must all the parts of any ship, and all the parts of any navy, parts of material and parts of personnel, be designed and made to work in harmony together; obedient to the controlling mind, and sympathetically indoctrinated with the wish and the will to do as that mind desires. CHAPTER IX PREPARING THE ACTIVE FLEET John Clerk, of Eldin, Scotland, never went to sea, and yet he devised a scheme of naval tactics, by following which the British Admiral Rodney gained his victory over the French fleet between Dominica and Guadeloupe in April, 1782. Clerk devised his system by the simple plan of thinking intently about naval actions in the large, disregarding such details as guns, rigging, masts, and weather, and concentrating on the movements of the fleets themselves, and the doings of the units of which those fleets were made. He assisted his mental processes by little models of ships, which he carried in his pockets, and which he could, and did, arrange on any convenient table, when he desired to study a problem, or to make a convert. He was enabled by this simple and inexpensive device to see the special problems of fleet tactics more clearly than he could have done by observing battles on board of any ships; for his attention in the ships would have been distracted by the exciting events occurring, by the noise and danger, and by the impossibility of seeing the whole because of the nearness of some of the parts. The amazing result was that he formed a clearer concept of naval tactics than any admiral of his time, finally overcame the natural prejudice of the British navy, and actually induced Rodney to stake on the suggestion of a non-military civilian his own reputation and the issue of a great sea fight. Furthermore, the issue was crowned with success. Nothing could be simpler than Clerk's method. It was, of course, applied to tactics, but similar methods are now applied to strategy; for strategy and tactics, as already pointed out, are based on similar principles, and differ mainly in the fact that strategy is larger, covers more space, occupies more time, and involves a greater number of quantities. Most of the books on naval strategy go into the subject historically, and analyze naval campaigns, and also describe those measures of foresight whereby nations, notably Great Britain, have established bases all over the world and built up great naval establishments. These books lay bare the reasons for the large successes that good naval strategy has attained, both in peace and war, and constitute nearly all there is of the science of naval strategy. These books and this method of treating naval strategy are valuable beyond measure; but officers find considerable difficulty sometimes in applying the principles set forth to present problems, because of the paucity of data, the remoteness in time and distance of many of the episodes described, and the consequent difficulty of making due allowance for them. Now, no study of naval strategy can be thoroughly satisfactory to a naval officer unless it assists him practically to decide what should be done in order to make the naval forces of his country, including himself, better in whatever will conduce to victory in the next war. Therefore, at the various war colleges, although the student is given books on strategy to study, the major part of the training is given by the applicatory method, an extension of Clerk's, in which the student applies his own skill to solving war problems, makes his own estimate of the situation, solves each problem in his own way (his solution being afterward criticised by the staff), and then takes part in the games in which the solutions presented are tried out. This procedure recognizes the fact that in any human art and science--say medicine, music, or navigation--it is the art and not the science by which one gets results; that the science is merely the foundation on which the art reposes, and that it is by practice of the art and not by knowledge of the science that skill is gained. This does not mean, of course, that we do not need as much knowledge of the science of naval strategy as we can get; for the reason that the naval profession is a growing profession, which necessitates that we keep the application of the principles of its strategy abreast of the improvements of the times, especially in mechanisms; which necessitates, in turn, that we know what those principles are. The applicatory method bears somewhat the same relation to the method of studying books and hearing lectures that exercises in practical navigation bear to the study of the theory. There is one difference, however, as applied to strategy and navigation, which is that the science of navigation is clearly stated in precise rules and formulæ, and the problems in practical navigation are solved by assigning values to quantities like _a, b, c, d_, etc., in the formulæ, and working out the results by mathematics; whereas in strategy, no exact science exists, there are no formulæ, and even the number of assured facts and principles is small. For this reason the art of strategy is more extensive and significant relatively to its science than is the art of navigation to its science. It is a defect of the historical system that it tends to make men do as people in the past have done--to make them work by rule. Clerk's method took no note of what had been done before, but confined itself to working out what should be done at the moment (that is, by what we now call the "applicatory method"), taking account of conditions as they are. By combining the two methods, as all war colleges do now, officers get the good results of both. In the studies and exercises at the war colleges, note is taken of the great events that have gone by, and of the great problems now presented; by studying the historical events, and by solving war problems of the present, a certain knowledge of the science of naval strategy, and a certain skill in the art are gained. The studies and the problems naturally are of war situations. Yet every war situation was the result of measures taken in time of peace. If these measures had been unwise on the part of one side--say Blue--in the design of certain craft, or the adoption, or failure of adoption, of certain plans, then Blue's strategic situation in the war would be more unfavorable than it would have been if the measures had been wise. This proves that it is not only in war that strategy should be consulted; that strategy should be made to perform important services in peace as well; that strategic considerations should be the guide to all measures great and small, that not only the major operations in war, but also the minor preparations in peace, should be conducted in accordance with the principles of strategy, and conform to its requirements. By this means, and by this means only, does a system of preparation seem possible in which all shall prepare with the same end in view, and in which, therefore, the best results will be secured in the least time and with the least labor. The naval machine having been designed, the various parts having been furnished by the administrative agencies directing personnel and material, and the consumable stores having been provided by the agencies of supply (all under the guidance and control of strategy, and in accordance with the calculations of logistics), the next step is the same as that with any other machine--to prepare the machine to do its work. The work that strategy has to do in accomplishing the preparation is only in planning; but this planning is not limited to general planning, for it extends to planning every procedure of training and administration, no matter how great or how small. It plans the mobilization of the navy as a whole, the exercises of the fleet, the training of officers and men to insure that the plans for mobilization and fleet exercises shall be efficiently carried out, the exercises of the various craft, and of the various mechanisms of all kinds in those craft, and even the drills of the officers and men, that insure that the various craft and mechanisms shall be handled well. This does not mean that strategy concerns itself directly with the training of mess cooks and coal-passers; and it may be admitted that such training is only under strategy's general guidance. It may be admitted, also, that a considerable part of the training of men in using mechanisms is caused by the requirements of the mechanism itself; that practically the same training is needed for a water-tender in the merchant service as for a water-tender in the navy. Nevertheless, we must either declare that the training of mechanicians in the nary has no relation to the demands of preparation of the navy for war, or else admit that the training comes under the broad dominion of strategy. To admit this does not mean at all that the training of a naval radio electrician is not directed in its details almost wholly by electrical engineering requirements; it merely means that the training must be such as to fulfil the requirements of strategy, for otherwise it would have no value. No matter how well trained a man might be in radio work, his work would be useless for naval purposes, if not made useful by being adapted to naval requirements. The fact that strategy controls the training of radio electricians through the medium of electrical means is only one illustration of another important fact, which is that in all its operations strategy directs the methods by which results are to be attained, and utilizes whatever means, even technical means, are the most effective and appropriate. The naval machine having been designed as to both personnel and material, strategy has nothing to do with the material in preparing the machine for use, because the material parts are already prepared, and it is the work of engineering to keep those material parts in a state of continual preparedness. It must be noted, however, that the naval machine differs from most material machines in that its various parts, material as well as personnel, are continually being replaced by newer parts, and added to by parts of novel kinds. Strategy must be consulted, of course, in designing the characteristics of the newer and the novel parts; but this work properly belongs in the designing stage, and not in the preparation stage. Strategy's work, therefore, in preparing the naval machine for work consists wholly in preparing the personnel. This preparing may be divided into two parts--preparing the existing fleet already mobilized and preparing the rest of the navy. _Preparing the Fleet_.--The fleet itself is always ready. This does not mean that, in time of profound peace, every ship in the fleet has all its men on board, its chain hove short, and its engines ready to turn over at a moment's notice; but it does mean that this condition is always approximated in whatever degree the necessities of the moment exact. Normally, it is not necessary to keep all the men on board; but whenever, or if ever, it becomes so necessary, the men can be kept on board and everything made ready for instant use. It is perfectly correct, therefore, to say that, so far as it may be necessary, a fleet in active commission is always ready. _Training_.--Before this state of readiness can be attained, however, a great deal of training has to be carried out; and this training must naturally be designed and prosecuted solely to attain this end. Unless this end be held constantly in view, and unless the methods of training be adapted to attain it, the training cannot possibly be effective. To go from any point to another point, one must proceed in the correct direction. If he proceeds in another direction, he will miss the point. The training of the fleet naturally must be in doing the things which the fleet would have to do in war. To decide what things these will probably be, resort must be had to the teachings of history, especially the most recent history, and to the teachings of the war problem, the chart maneuver, and the game-board. The part of the personnel which it is the most important to train is, of course, the commander-in-chief himself; and no reason is apparent for supposing that his training should be conducted on principles different from those that control the training of every other person in the fleet. Men being the same in general, their qualities differing only in degree, it is logical to conclude that, if a gun-pointer or coxswain is best trained by being made first to understand the principles that underlie the correct performance of his work, and then by being given a good deal of practice in performing it, a commander-in-chief, or a captain, engineer, or gunner, can be best trained under a similar plan. Knowledge and practice have always been the most effective means of acquiring skill, and probably will continue to be the best for some time to come. Owing to the fact that navies have been in existence for many years, the general qualifications of efficient naval officers are fairly well known; and they have always been the same in the most important particulars, though the recent coming of scientific apparatus has made available and valuable certain types of men not especially valuable before this scientific apparatus appeared. In all navies, and equally in all armies, the qualification that has been the most important has been character. To insure, or rather to do the utmost toward insuring, proper character in its officers, all countries for many years have educated certain young men of the country to be officers in the army and navy, and they have educated young men for no other service. If knowledge were the prime requirement, special training for young men would not be needed; the various educational institutions could supply young men highly educated; and if the government were to take each year a certain number of graduates who could pass certain examinations, the educational institutions would be glad to educate young men to pass them. In securing young men of proper education and physique, little difficulty would be found. Special schools could even give sufficient instruction in military and maritime subjects to enable young men to become useful in minor positions on shipboard and in camp, after a brief experience there. In fact, for some of the positions in the army and navy, such as those in the medical corps and others, military or naval training is not needed, or exacted. The truth of these remarks is not so obvious now as it was some years ago, and it has never been so obvious in navies as in armies; because education in the use of the numerous special appliances used in ships could be given less readily by private instruction than in the use of the simpler appliances used in armies. But even now, and even in the navy, the course given at Annapolis is usually termed a "training" rather than an education. Yet even education, educators tell us, is more a matter of training than a matter of imparting knowledge. This indicates that even for the duties of civil life, the paramount aim of educators is so to train the characters of young men as to fit them for good citizenship. We may assume, therefore, that the primary aim of governments in preparing young men for the army and navy is to develop character along the line needed for useful work in those services. What is that line? Probably nine officers in ten would answer this question with the words, "the line of duty." This does not mean that officers are the only people who should be trained to follow the line of duty; but it does mean that, in military and naval schools, the training is more devoted to this than in other schools, except, of course, those schools that train young men for the priesthood or other departments of the religious life. The analogy between the clerical and the military professions in this regard has been pointed out many times; but perhaps the closeness with which the medical profession approximates both in its adherence to the line of duty has not been appreciated as fully as it should be. _Duty_.--The reason for the predominance of the idea of duty over any other in naval training is due, of course, to a realization of the fact that more can be accomplished by officers having a strict sense of duty though otherwise lacking, than by officers having any or all the other qualifications, but lacking the sense of duty. As an extreme instance of the doubtful value of highly trained officers who lack the sense of duty, we need but to point to those traitors who, in the past, have turned their powers in the hour of need against the cause they were engaged to fight for. One cannot pursue the path of duty when that path becomes difficult or disagreeable unless the sense of duty is so strong as to resist the temptation to leave the path. To train a man to be strong in this way, we train his character. There are several ways in which a man is tempted to leave the line of duty; of these perhaps the most important are danger, sloth, and love of pleasure. No human being is perfectly strong along any of these lines; and some are most tempted by danger, some by sloth, and some by love of pleasure. Sloth and the love of pleasure do not act as hinderances to efficiency in the naval profession any more than they do in other callings. There is no profession, business, or vocation, in which a man's efficiency does not depend largely on his power of resistance to the allurement of sloth and pleasure. In all walks of life, including the usual routine of the naval life, these two factors are the main stumbling-blocks to the success of any man. That is, they are the main stumbling-blocks that training can remove or lessen; the main stumbling-blocks in the way of his attaining that degree of efficiency for which his mental and physical abilities themselves would fit him. Natural abilities are not here considered; we are considering merely what training can do to develop men as they are for the naval life. _Courage_.--Danger is the special influence to divert a man from duty's line that is distinctive of the army and the navy; and therefore to secure ability to overcome this influence is the distinct effort of military training. To train a young man for the army, the training naturally is directed toward minimizing the influence of one class of dangers; while to train a young man for the navy, the training must be directed toward minimizing the influence of another class. Of course training toward courage in any line develops courage in other lines; but nevertheless a naval training does not enable a man to ride a plunging cavalry horse with equanimity; nor does training as a cavalryman wholly fit a man to brave the dangers of the deep in a submarine. Thirty years ago, the present writer showed Commander Royal Bird Bradford, U. S. N., the wonders of the U. S. S. _Atlanta_, the first ship of what Americans then called "The New Navy." When I showed Bradford the conning-tower, I remarked that many captains who had visited the _Atlanta_ had said that they would not go into the conning-tower in battle. To this Bradford replied: "The captain who would not go into the conning-tower in battle would be very brave, but he'd be a d----d fool." The obvious truth of this remark, the intimate connection which it suggested between courage and folly, and the fact often noted in life that to be brave is often to be foolish, contrasted with the fact that in all history the virtue of courage in men has been more lauded than any other virtue, suggests that a brief inquiry into the nature and influence of courage may be interesting. The definitions of courage found in the dictionary are most unsatisfactory, except that they say that the word "courage" comes from the Latin "cor," the heart; showing that it is deemed a moral quality, rather than physical or mental. Yet the deeds of courage that history and fiction tell, have been deeds of what we call "physical courage," in which heroes and heroines have braved death and physical suffering. Far in the background are deeds of "moral courage," though many wise men have told us that "moral courage" is a quality higher than "physical courage," and more important. It is a little difficult to make a clear picture of courage that is physical, as distinguished from courage that is moral; or moral as distinguished from physical. Courage seems to be a quality so clearly marked as to be hardly qualifiable by any adjective except an adjective indicating degree--such as "great" or "little"; but if any other adjective may be applied to it, the adjective "moral" seems to be the only one. For courage, no matter how or why displayed, is from its very essence, moral. Strictly speaking, how can there be any courage except moral courage? If a man braves death or physical suffering, the quality that enables him to brave it is certainly not physical; certainly it does not pertain to the physical body. The "first law of nature" impels him to escape or yield; and it impels him with a powerful force. If this force be not successfully resisted, the man will yield. Now the act of resisting a temptation to escape a physical danger is due to a more or less conscious desire to preserve one's self-respect and the respect of one's fellow men; and therefore, the best way in which to train a man to be brave is to cultivate his self-respect and a desire to have the respect of his fellow men; and to foster the idea that he will lose both if he acts in a cowardly way. Naturally, some men are more apt to be cowards as regards physical dangers than are others; and men differ greatly in this way. Men of rugged physique, dull imagination, and sluggish nerves are not so prone to fear of physical danger, especially danger far ahead in the future, as are men of delicate physique, keen imagination, and highly strung nervous system; and yet men of the latter class sometimes surpass men of the former class when the danger actually arrives--they seem to have prepared themselves for it, when men of the former class seem in a measure to be taken by surprise. It is the attainment of physical courage, or courage to defy a threat of physical injury, that military training aims at. That it has done so successfully in the past, the history of the valiant deeds of sailors and soldiers bears superabundant witness. This courage has been brought out because it was essential. Courage is to a man what strength is to structural materials. No matter how physically strong and mentally equipped a man may be; no matter how perfectly designed and constructed an engine may be, neither the man nor the engine will "stand up to the work," unless the courage in the one case, and the strength of the materials in the other case, are adequate to the stress. While perfect courage would enable a man to approach certain death with equanimity, all that is usually demanded of a man is that he shall dare to risk death, if need be. To do this successfully, a great assistance is a knowledge that even if things look bad, the danger is not so great as it appears. Therefore, training confronts men frequently with situations that look dangerous, but which skill and coolness can avert. In this way, the pupil becomes familiar with the face of danger, and learns that it is not so terrible as it seems. Nothing else makes a man so brave regarding a certain danger as to have met that danger successfully before. This statement must be qualified with the remark that in some cases a danger, although passed successfully, has been known to do a harm to the nervous system from which it never has recovered. This is especially the case if it was accompanied with a great and sudden noise and the evidence of great injury to others. In cases like this, the shock probably comes too abruptly to enable the man to prepare himself to receive it. The efficacy of a little preparation, even preparation lasting but a few seconds, is worthy of remark. Two theories connecting fear and trembling may be noted here: one that a person trembles because he fears; the other, and later, that trembling is automatic, and that a person fears _because he trembles_. But the influence of fear is not only to tempt a man to turn his back on duty and seek safety in flight, for it affects him in many degrees short of this. Sometimes, in fact usually, it prevents the accurate operation of the mind in greater or less degree. Here again training comes to the rescue, by so habituating a man to do his work in a certain way (loading a gun for instance) that he will do it automatically, and yet correctly, when his mind is almost paralyzed for a time. A very few men are so constituted that danger is a stimulus to not only their physical but their mental functions; so that they never think quite so quickly and so clearly as when in great danger. Such men are born commanders. Discussion of such an abstract thing as courage may seem out of place in a discussion of "Naval Strategy"; but while it is true that naval strategy is largely concerned with mental operations, while courage is a moral or spiritual quality, yet strategy concerns itself with the securing of all means to victory, and of these means courage is more important than any other one thing. One plan or one system of training may be better than another; but they differ only in degree, and if one plan fails another may be substituted; but if courage be found lacking, there is no substitute on earth. Now, if courage is to be inculcated by some system of training, surely it is not amiss to devote a few minutes to an analysis of the nature of courage, to seek what light we can get as to the best methods of training to employ. _Responsibility_.--There is one form of courage which most men are never called upon to use, and that is willingness to take responsibility. Most men are never confronted with a situation requiring them to take it. To naval men, however, the necessity comes often, even to naval men in the lower grades; for they are often confronted with situations in which they can accept or evade responsibility. That courage is needed, no one can doubt who has had experience. To accept responsibility, however, is not always best either for the individual or for the cause; often it were better to lay the responsibility on higher authority, by asking for instructions. But the same remark is true of all uses of courage; it is not always best to be brave, either for the individual or for the cause. Both the individual and the cause can often be better served by Prudence than by her big brother Courage. When, however, the conditions require courage in any form, such as willingness to accept responsibility, the man in charge of the situation at the moment must use courage, or--fail. In such cases the decision rests with the man himself. He cannot shift it to another's shoulders, even if he would. Even if he decides and acts on the advice of others, the responsibility remains with him. _From the Top Down, or from the Bottom Up?_--There are two directions in which to approach the subject of training the personnel--from the top down, and from the bottom up. The latter is the easier way; is it the better? The latter is the easier way, because it is quicker and requires less knowledge. In training a turret crew in this way, for instance, one does not have to consider much outside of the turret itself. The ammunition can be sent up and down, and the guns can be loaded, pointed, and fired with just as much quickness and accuracy as is humanly practicable, without much reference to the ship itself, the fleet, or the navy. In fact, knowledge of outside requirements hinders in some ways rather than advances training of this kind. Knowledge, for instance, of the requirements of actual battle is a distinct brake on many of the activities of mere target practice. But while it is easier to train in this way all the various bodies of men that must be trained, it is obvious that by training them wholly without reference to the requirements of the fleet as a whole, the best result that we could expect would be a number of bodies of men, each body well trained as a unit, but the combined units not trained at all as component elements of the whole. The result would be a little like what one would expect from the efforts of an orchestra at playing a selection which the whole orchestra had never played before together, but of which each member of the orchestra had previously learned his part, and played it according to his own ideas, without consulting the orchestra leader. By approaching the subject from the other direction, however, that is, from the top, the training of each organization within the fleet is arranged with reference to the work of the fleet as a whole, the various features of the drills of each organization being indicated by the conditions developed by that work. If this plan be carried out, a longer time will be required to drill the various bodies of men; but when it has been accomplished, those bodies will be drilled, not only as separate bodies, but as sympathetic elements of the whole. Of course the desirability of drilling separate divisions of a fleet, ana separate ships, turret crews, fire-control parties, and what-not, in accordance with the requirements of fleet work does not prevent them from drilling by themselves as often as they wish--any more than the necessity of drilling in the orchestra prevents a trombone player from practising on his instrument as much as the police will let him. Thus the fact of keeping a fleet together does more than merely give opportunity for acquiring skill in handling the fleet itself, and in handling the various ships so that they will work together as parts of the fleet machine; because it shows each of the various smaller units within the ships themselves how to direct its training. For this reason, the idea so often suggested of keeping the fleet normally broken up into smaller parts, those parts close enough together to unite before an enemy could strike, is most objectionable. It is impossible to keep the fleet together all the time, because of needed repairs, needed relaxation, and the necessity for individual drills that enable a captain or division commander to strengthen his weak points; but nevertheless since the "mission" of training is to attain fighting efficiency in the fleet as a whole, rather than to attain fighting efficiency in the various parts; and since it can be attained only by drilling the fleet as a whole, the decision to keep the fleet united as much as practicable seems inevitably to follow. Besides, the statement cannot be successfully controverted that difficult things are usually not so well done as easy things, that drills of large organizations are more difficult than drills of small organizations, and that in every fleet the drills that are done the worst are the drills of the fleet as a whole. How could anything else be expected, when one considers how much more often, for instance, a turret crew is exercised at loading than the fleet is exercised at the difficult movement of changing the "line of bearing"? The older officers remember that for many years we carried on drills at what we called "fleet tactics," though we knew they were only tactical drills. They were excellent in the same sense as that in which the drill of the manual of arms was excellent, or the squad exercises given to recruits. They were necessary; but beyond the elementary purpose of training in ship handling in fleet movements, they had no "end in view"; they were planned with a limited horizon, they were planned from the bottom. _General Staff_.--In order to direct the drills of a fleet toward some worthy end, that end itself must be clearly seen; and in order that it may be clearly seen, it first must be discovered. The end does not exist as a bright mark in the sky, but as the answer to a difficult problem; it cannot be found by guessing or by speculating or by groping in the dark. Strategy says that the best way in which to find it is by the "estimate of the situation" method. Owing to the fact that the commander-in-chief and all his personnel are, by the nature of the conditions surrounding them, on executive duty, the working out of the end in view of any extensive drills seems the task of the Navy Department; while the task of attaining it seems to belong to the commander-in-chief. Owing to the present stage of electrical progress, the Navy Department has better means of ascertaining the whole naval situation than has the commander-in-chief, and if officers (General Staff) be stationed at the department to receive and digest all the information received, and decide on the best procedure in each contingency as it arises, the Navy Department can then give the commander-in-chief the information he requires and general instructions how to proceed. This does not mean that the department would "interfere" with the commander-in-chief, but simply that it would assist him. The area of discretion of the commander-in-chief should not be invaded; for if it be invaded, not only may orders be given without knowledge of certain facts in the commander-in-chief's possession, but the commander-in-chief will have his difficulties increased by the very people who are trying to help him. He may be forced into disobeying orders, a most disturbing thing to have to do; and he will surely be placed in a position of continuous doubt as to what is expected of him. Of course, it must be realized that the difficulties of co-operating with a commander-in-chief at sea, by means of even the most expert General Staff, are of the highest order. It is hard to imagine any task more difficult. It must be accomplished, however, or else there will be danger all the time that the commander-in-chief will act as he would not act if he had all the information that the department had. This suggests at once that the proper office of the department is merely to give the commander-in-chief information and let him act on his own judgment. True in a measure; but the commander-in-chief must be given some instructions, even if they be general, for the reason that the commander-in-chief is merely an instrument for enforcing a certain policy. Clearly, he must know what the policy is, what the department desires; and the mere statement of the department's desires is of itself an order. If it is admitted that the commander-in-chief is to carry out the orders of the department, it remains merely to decide in how great detail those orders ought to be. No general answer can be given to the question: "In what detail shall the orders be?" The general statement can be made, however, that the instructions should be confined as closely as practicable to a statement of the department's desires, and that this statement should be as clear as possible. If, for instance, the only desire of the department is that the enemy's fleet shall be defeated, no amplification of this statement is required. But if the department should desire, for reasons best known to itself, that the enemy should be defeated by the use of a certain method, then that should be stated also. Maybe it would not be wise for the department to state the method the employment of which is desired; maybe the commander-in-chief would be the best judge of the method to be employed. But maybe circumstances of governmental policy dictate the employment of a certain method, even if militarily it is not the best; and maybe also the department might prefer that method by reason of information recently received, which it does not have time to communicate in full. Now, if it is desirable for the department to give the commander-in-chief instructions, running the risk of invading his "area of discretion," and of doing other disadvantageous things, it is obvious that the department should be thoroughly equipped for doing it successfully. This means that the department should be provided not only with the most efficient radio apparatus that can be secured, manned, of course, by the most skilful operators, but also with a body of officers capable of handling that particular part of the Navy Department's work which is the concentrated essence of all its work, the actual handling of the naval forces. The usual name given to such a body of officers is "General Staff." Such bodies of officers have been developed in navies in recent years, by a desire to take advantage of electrical appliances which greatly increase the accuracy and rapidity of communication over long distances. In days not long ago, before communication by radio was developed, commanders on the spot were in possession of much more information about events in their vicinity, compared with the Navy Department, than they are now; and the difficulties and uncertainties of communication made it necessary to leave much more to their discretion and initiative. The President of the United States can now by telephone talk to the commander-in-chief, when he is in home waters, and every day sees some improvement in this line. This facility of communication carries with it, of course, the danger of "interfering," one of the most frequent causes of trouble in the past, in conducting the operations of both armies and fleets--a danger very real, very insidious, and very important. The very ease with which interference can be made, the trained instinct of the subordinate to follow the wishes of his superior if he can, the temptation to the superior to wield personally some military power and get some military glory, conspire to bring about interference. This is only an illustration, however, of the well-known fact that every power can be used for evil as well as for good, and is not a valid argument against developing to the utmost the communication between the department and the fleet. It is, however, a very valid argument against developing it unless there be developed simultaneously some means like a "safety device" for preventing or at least discouraging its misuse. The means devised is the General Staff; and in some countries like Germany it seems to work so well that (unless our information is incorrect) the Emperor himself does not interfere. He gives the machine a certain problem to work out, and he accepts the answer as the answer which has a greater probability of being correct than any answer he could get by other means. _Training of the Staff_.--Now, if there is to be at the Navy Department a body of men who will work out and recommend what instructions should be given to the commander-in-chief, it seems obvious that that body of men should be thoroughly trained. In the German army the training of men to do this work (General Staff work) is given only to officers specially selected. Certain young officers who promise well are sent to the war college. Those who show aptitude and industry are then put tentatively into the General Staff. Those who show marked fitness in their tentative employment are then put into the General Staff, which is as truly a special corps as is our construction corps. How closely this system is followed with the General Staff in the German navy, the present writer does not know exactly; but his information is that the system in the navy is copied (though with certain modifications) after the system in the army. How can the General Staff at the Navy Department be trained? In the same way as that in which officers at the war college are trained: by study and by solving war problems by tactical and strategical games. The training would naturally be more extended, as it would be a postgraduate course. There is a difference to be noted between games like war games in which the mental powers are trained, and games like billiards, in which the nerves and muscles receive practically all the training; and the difference refers mainly to the memory. Games of cards are a little like war games; and many books on games of cards have been written, expounding the principles on which they rest and giving rules to follow. These books may be said to embody a science of card-playing. No such book on naval strategy has appeared; and the obvious reason is that only a few rules of naval strategy have been formulated. Staff training, therefore, cannot be given wholly by studying books; but possibly the scheme suggested to the department by the writer, when he was Aid for Operations, may be developed into a sort of illustrative literature, which can assist the memory. By this scheme, a body of officers at the Navy Department would occupy their time wholly in studying war problems by devising and playing strategical and tactical games ashore and afloat. After each problem had been solved to the satisfaction of the staff, each distinctive situation in the approved solution would be photographed in as small a space as practicable, preferably on a moving-picture film. In the solution of problem 99; for instance, there might be 50 situations and therefore 50 photographs. These photographs, shown in appropriate succession, would furnish information analogous to the information imparted to a chess student by the statement of the successive moves in those games of chess that one sees sometimes in books on chess and in newspapers. Now if the film photographs were so arranged that the moves in the approved solution of, say, problem 99 could be thrown on a screen, as slowly and as quickly as desired, and if the film records of a few hundred such games could be conveniently arranged, a very wide range of situations that would probably come up in war would be portrayed; and the moves made in handling those situations would form valuable precedents for action, whenever situations approximating them should come up in war. It must be borne in mind that in actual life, our only real guide to wise action in any contingency that may arise is a memory, more or less consciously realized, of how a similar contingency has been met, successfully or unsuccessfully, in the past. Perhaps most of us do not realize that it is not so much experience that guides us as our memory of experiences. Therefore in the training of both officers and enlisted men in strategy, tactics, seamanship, gunnery, engineering, and the rest, the memory of how they, or some one else, did this well and that badly (even if the memory be hardly conscious) is the immediate agency for bringing about improvement. Imagine now a strategical system of training for the navy, in which a body of highly trained officers at the department will continuously regulate the exercises of the fleet, guided by the revelations of the _Kriegspiel:_ the commander-in-chief will direct the activities of the main divisions of the fleet, carrying out the department's scheme; the commander of each division will regulate the activities of the units of his command in accordance with the fleet scheme; the officer in command of each unit of each division will regulate the activities of each unit in his ship, destroyer, submarine, or other craft in accordance with the division scheme; and every suborganization, in every ship, destroyer, or other craft will regulate likewise the activities of its members; so that the navy will resemble a vast and efficient organism, all the parts leagued together by a common understanding and a common purpose; mutually dependent, mutually assisting, sympathetically obedient to the controlling mind that directs them toward the "end in view." It must be obvious, however, that in order that the navy shall be like an organism, its brain (the General Staff) must not be a thing apart, but must be of it, and bound to every part by ties of sympathy and understanding. It would be possible to have a staff excellent in many ways, and yet so out of touch with the fleet and its practical requirements that co-ordination between the two would not exist. Analogous conditions are sometimes seen in people suffering from a certain class of nervous ailments; the mind seems unimpaired, but co-ordination between the brain and certain muscles is almost wholly lacking. To prevent such a condition, therefore, the staff must be kept in touch with the fleet; and it must also permit the fleet to keep in touch with the staff, by arranging that, accompanying the system of training, there shall be a system of education which will insure that the general plan will be understood throughout the fleet; and that the means undertaken to execute it will be made sufficiently clear to enable each person to receive the assistance of his own intelligence. No man can do his best work in the dark. Darkness is of itself depressing; while light, if not too intense, stimulates the activities of every living thing. This does not mean that every mess attendant in the fleet should be put into possession of the war plans of the commander-in-chief, that he should be given any more information than he can assimilate and digest, or than he needs, to do his work the best. Just how much information to impart, and just how much to withhold are quantitative questions, which can be decided wisely by only those persons who know what their quantitative values are. This is an important matter, and should be dealt with as such by the staff itself. To get the maximum work out of every man is the aim of training; to get the maximum work that shall be effective in attaining the end in view, training must be directed by strategy, because strategy alone has a clear knowledge of what is the end in view. _Stimuli_.--Some men are so slothful that exertion of any kind is abhorrent to them; but these men are few, and are very few indeed among a lot of healthy and normal men such as fill a navy. An office boy, lazy beyond belief in the work he is engaged to do, will go through the most violent exertions at a baseball game; and a darky who prefers a soft resting-place in the shade of an umbrageous tree to laboring in the fields will be stirred to wild enthusiasm by a game of "craps." Now why are the office boy and the darky stimulated by these games? By the elements of competition, chance, and possible danger they bring out and the excitement thereby engendered. Training, therefore introduces these elements into drills as much as it can. Competition alone does not suffice, otherwise all men would play chess; competition and chance combined are not enough, or gentlemen would not need the danger of losing money to make card games interesting; but any game that brings in all three elements will rouse the utmost interest and activity of which a man is capable. Games involving these three elements are known by many names; one name is "poker," another name is "business," and another name is "politics." There are many other games besides, but the greatest of all is strategy. Now in the endeavor to prepare a fleet by training, no lack of means for exciting interest will be found; in fact no other training offers so many and so great a variety of means for introducing the elements of competition, chance, and danger. The problem is how best to employ them. To do this successfully, it must be realized, of course, that the greatest single factor in exciting interest is the personal factor, since comparatively few men can get much interested in a matter that is impersonal; a boy is more interested in watching a baseball game in which he knows some of the players than in watching a game between teams neither of which he has ever seen; and the men in any ship are more interested in the competition between their ship and some other than between any other two; feeling that _esprit de corps_ by reason of which every individual in every organization personifies the organization as a living thing of which he himself is part. _Strategic Problems_.--The training of the fleet, then, can best be done under the direction of a trained staff, that staff generously employing all the resources of competition, chance, and danger. The obvious way to do this is to give out to the fleet for solution a continual succession of strategic problems, which the entire fleet will be engaged in solving, and which will be the starting-point for all the drills of the fleet and in the fleet. (Some officers prefer the word "maneuver" to "problem.") The arranging of a continual series of war problems, or maneuvers to be worked out in the fleet by "games," will call for an amount of strategical skill second only to the skill needed for operations in war, will deal with similar factors and be founded on similar principles. Naturally, the war problems, before being sent to the fleet for solving, would be solved first by the staff, using strategical and tactical games, and other appropriate means; and inasmuch as the scheme of education and training is for the benefit of the staff itself, as well as for the benefit of the fleet, certain members of the staff would go out with the fleet to note in what ways, each problem sent down was defective, in what ways good--and in what ways it could be modified with benefit. The successive situations and solutions, made first by the staff and subsequently by the fleet, can then be photographed and made part of the history of war problems, for the library of the staff. In laying out the war problems, the staff will be guided naturally by the ends in view--first to work out solutions of strategic, logistic, and tactical situations in future wars, and second to give opportunity to the various divisions, ships, turret crews, engineers' forces, etc., for drills that will train them to meet probable contingencies in future wars. This double end will not be so difficult of attainment as might at first sight seem, for the reason that the solution of any problem which represents a situation actually probable will automatically provide all the minor situations necessary to drill the various bodies; and the more inherently probable a situation is, the more probable will be the situations in which the various flag-officers, captains, quartermasters, engineers' forces, turret crews, etc., will find themselves. Of course, the prime difficulty in devising realistic problems is the fact that in war our whole fleet would be employed together against an enemy fleet; and as the staff cannot supply an enemy fleet, it must either imagine an enemy fleet, divert a small part of our fleet to represent an enemy fleet, or else divide our fleet into two approximately equal parts, one "red," and one "blue." _First Scheme_.--The first scheme has its usefulness in working out the actual handling of the fleet as a whole; and considering the purposes of strategy only, is the most important, though, of course, "contacts" with the enemy cannot be simulated. From the standpoint of fleet tactical drill, and the standpoint of that part of strategy which arranges for handling large tactical situations with success, it is useful, since it provides for the tactical handling of the entire fleet. This certainly is important; for if the personnel are to be so trained that the actual fleet shall be handled with maximum effectiveness in battle, training in handling that actual fleet must frequently be had; the fleet is a machine, and no machine is complete if any of its parts is lacking. It may be objected that it is not necessary for the staff at the department to devise such training, because drills of the entire fleet can be devised and carried out by the commander-in-chief; in fact that that is what he is for. This, of course, is partly true; and it is not the idea of the author that the staff in the department should interfere with any scheme of drills that the commander-in-chief desires to devise and carry out; but it is his idea that the staff should arrange problems to be worked out by the fleet, in which the tactical handling of the fleet should be subordinate to, and carried out for, a strategic purpose. A very simple drill would be the mere transfer of the fleet to a distant point, when in supposititious danger from an enemy, employing by day and night the scouting and screening operations that such a trip would demand. Another drill would be the massing of previously separated forces at a given place and time; still another would be the despatching of certain parts of the fleet to certain points at certain times. The problems need not be quite so simple as these, however; for they can include all the operations of a fleet under its commander-in-chief up to actual contact; the commander-in-chief being given only such information as the approximate position, speed, and course of the enemy at a given time, with orders to intercept him with his whole force; or he may be given information that the enemy has divided his force, that certain parts were at certain places going in certain directions at certain speeds at certain times, and he may be directed to intercept those supposititious parts; that is, to get such parts of his fleet as he may think best to certain places at certain times. Of the strategic value to the staff of the practical solutions of this class of problems by the fleet, there can be little question; and the records made if kept up to date, would give data in future wars for future staffs, of what the whole fleet, and parts of it acting with the fleet, can reasonably be expected to accomplish, especially from the standpoint of logistics. And it has the advantage of dealing with only one thing; the actual handling of the actual fleet, uncomplicated by other matters, such as interference by an enemy. For the reason, however, that it leaves out of consideration the effects of scouting and of contacts with the enemy, it is incomplete. _Second Scheme_.--To remedy this incompleteness, resort may be had to the device of detaching a few vessels from the fleet and making each represent a force of the enemy; one destroyer, for instance, to represent a division, four destroyers four divisions, etc. This scheme has the advantage that all the capital ships can be handled together, and that, say three-quarters of the destroyers can be handled without much artificiality on the assumption that four-fourths are so handled; while for merely strategic purposes four destroyers, properly separated, can represent four divisions of destroyers very truthfully. This scheme is useful not only strategically but tactically; for the reasons that the contacts made are actual and visible, and that all the personnel on each side are put to doing things much like those they would do in war. The scheme is extremely flexible besides; for the number of ways in which the fleet can be divided is very great, and the number of operations that can be simulated with considerable accuracy is therefore very great also. The training given to the personnel of the fleet is obviously more varied, interesting, and valuable, than in the first scheme; and the records of the solutions (games played) will form instructive documents in the offices of the staff, concerning situations which the first scheme could not bring out. These records, naturally, will not be so simple as those under the first scheme, because many factors will enter in, some of which will bring up debatable points. For when actual contact occurs, but only "constructive" hits by torpedo and gun are made, much room for difference of opinion will occur, and many decisions will be disputed. To decide disputed questions must, of course, rest with the staff; but those questions must be decided, and if correct deductions from the games are to be made, the decisions must be correct. To achieve correctness in decision the members of the staff must be highly trained. To devise and develop a good scheme of staff training, several years may be required. _Third Scheme_.--The third kind of game is that in which the fleet is divided into two parts, fairly equal in each of the various elements, battleships, battle cruisers, destroyers, submarines, aircraft, etc. This scheme gives opportunity for more realistic situations than the other two, since each side operates and sees vessels and formations similar to those that it would operate and see in war; and it gives opportunity for games which combine both strategical and tactical operations and situations to a greater degree than do the other two schemes. Its only weakness is the fact that the entire fleet is not operated as a unit; not even a large fraction, but only about one-half. Like each of the other two schemes, however, it has its distinctive field of usefulness. Its main advantage is its realism--the fact that two powerful naval forces, each composed of all the elements of a naval force, seek each other out; or else one evades and the other seeks; and then finally they fight a fairly realistic battle; or else one successfully evades the other; or else minor actions occur between detachments, and no major result occurs; just as happens in war. Strategically, this scheme is less valuable than the other two; tactically, more so. For the experience and the records of the staff this scheme is less valuable than the other two, but for the training of the fleet it is more so. Of course, the division of games for staff and fleet training into three general schemes is arbitrary, and not wholly correct; for no such division really exists, and in practice it would not be observed. The thought of the writer is merely to point out that, in a general way, the schemes may be divided into three classes, and to show the convenience of doing so--or at least of recognizing that there are three general kinds of games, and that each kind has its advantages and likewise its disadvantages. In our navy, only three strategic problems or maneuvers, devised at the department, have been worked out at sea--one in May, and one in October, 1915, and one in August, 1916: all belonged in the second category. They were devised by the General Board and the War College, as we had no staff. The solving of the problems by the commander-in-chief aroused the greatest interest not only in the fleet, but in the Navy Department, in fact, throughout the entire navy, and to a surprising degree throughout the country, especially among the people on the Atlantic coast. Discussions of the utmost value were aroused and carried on, and a degree of co-operation between the department, the War College, and the fleet, never attained before, was realized. If a routine could be devised whereby such problems could be solved by practical games, say once a month, and the results analyzed and recorded in moving-picture form by the staff in Washington, we could see our way in a few years' time to a degree of efficiency in strategy which now we cannot even picture. It would automatically indoctrinate the navy and produce a sympathetic understanding and a common aim, which would permeate the personnel and make the navy a veritable organism. It would attain the utmost attainable by any method now known. Attention is respectfully invited to the fact that at the present time naval strategy is mainly an art; that it will probably continue so for many years; that whether a science of naval strategy will ever be formulated need not now concern us deeply, and that the art of naval strategy, like every other art, needs practice for its successful use. Naval strategy is so vague a term that most of us have got to looking on it as some mystic art, requiring a peculiar and unusual quality of mind to master; but there are many things to indicate that a high degree of skill in it can be attained by the same means as can a high degree of skill in playing--say golf: by hard work; and not only by hard work, but by doing the same thing--or similar things--repeatedly. Now most of us realize that any largely manual art, such as the technic of the piano, needs frequent repetition of muscular actions, in order to train the muscles; but few of us realize how fully this is true of mental arts, such as working arithmetical or strategical problems, though we know how easy it is to "get rusty" in navigation. Our mental muscles and whatever nerves co-ordinate them with our minds seem to need fully as much practice for their skilful use as do our physical muscles; and so to attain skill in strategy, we must practise at it. This means that all hands must practise at it--not only the staff in their secret sanctuary, not only the commander-in-chief, not only the division commanders, but, in their respective parts, the captains, the lieutenants, the ensigns, the warrant officers, the petty officers, and the youngest recruits. To get this practice, the department, through the staff, must furnish the ideas, and the commander-in-chief the tools. Then, day after day, month after month, and year after year, in port and at sea, by night and by day, the ideas assisted by the tools will be supplying a continuous stimulus to the minds of all. This stimulus, properly directed through the appropriate channels and devoted to wise purposes, will reach the mess attendant, the coal-passer, and the recruit, as well as those in positions more responsible (though not more honorable); and as the harmony of operation of the whole increases, as skill in each task increases, and as a perception of the strategic _why_ for the performance of each task increases, the knowledge will be borne in on all that in useful occupation is to be found the truest happiness; that only uninterested work at any task is drudgery; that interest in work brings skill, that skill brings pleasure in exerting it; and that the greater the number of men engaged together, and the more wise the system under which they work, the greater will be the happiness of each man, and the higher the efficiency of the whole. CHAPTER X RESERVES AND SHORE STATIONS In the preceding chapter it was pointed out that the work of preparing the naval machine for use could be divided into two parts: preparing the existing fleet and preparing the rest of the navy. The "rest of the navy" consists of the Navy Department itself, the naval stations, the reserve ships and men, and also the ships and men that must be brought in from civil life. As the department is the agency for preparing the naval stations, the reserves, and the men and ships brought in from civil life, it is clear that the work of preparing the department will automatically prepare the others. The work of preparing any Navy Department necessitates the preparation and execution of plans, whereby the department itself and all the rest of the navy will be able to pass instantly from a peace footing to a war footing; will be able to pass instantly from a status of leisurely handling and supplying the existing fleet by means of the offices, bureaus, and naval stations, to the status of handling with the greatest possible despatch a force which will be not only much larger, but also much less disciplined and coherent. In time of peace a Navy Department which is properly administered for times of peace, as most Navy Departments are, can, by means of its bureaus, naval stations, offices, etc., handle the existing fleet, and also these bureaus, naval stations, offices, etc., by labors which for the most part are matters of routine. The department opens for business at a certain time in the morning and closes at a certain time in the afternoon. During office hours the various officials and their clerks fill a few busy hours with not very strenuous labor, and then depart, leaving their cares behind them. The naval stations are conducted on similar principles; and even the doings of the fleet become in a measure matters of routine. All the ordinary business of life tends to routine, in order that men may so arrange their time, that they may have regular hours for work, recreation, and sleep, and be able to make engagements for the future. But when war breaks out, all routine is instantly abolished. The element of surprise, which each side strives to interject into its operations, is inherently a foe to routine. In a routine life, expected things occur--it is the office of routine to arrange that expected things shall occur, and at expected times; in a routine life one is always prepared to see a certain thing happen at a certain time. Surprise breaks in on all this, and makes unexpected things occur, and therefore finds men unprepared. It is the office of surprise to catch men unprepared. Appreciating this, and appreciating the value of starting a war by achieving some great success, and of preventing the enemy from so doing, military countries in recent years have advanced more and more their preparations for war, even in time of the profoundest peace, in order that, when war breaks out, they may be prepared either to take the offensive at once, or to repel an offensive at once. With whatever forces a nation expects or desires to fight in a war, no matter whether it will begin on the offensive or begin on the defensive, the value to the nation of those forces will depend on how soon they are gotten ready. In a navy, the active fleet may be considered always ready; but the personnel and the craft of various kinds that must be added to it cannot be added to it as quickly as is desirable--because it is desirable that they should be added immediately, which is impossible. It is not in the nature of things that they should get ready as quickly as a fleet that has been kept ready always; but it is essential that the handicap to the operations of the active fleet, due to the tardiness of its additions, should be kept as small as possible. In other words, whatever additions are to be made to the active fleet should be made as quickly as possible. When the additions are made to the fleet (reserve ships and men, ships and men from civil life, etc.) it is clear that those ships and men should at that time be ready for effective work. If the ships are not in condition for effective work by reason of being out of order, or by reason of the ships from civil life not having been altered to suit their new requirements, or by reason of the men not being thoroughly drilled for their new tasks, considerable time will have to be lost by the necessity of getting the ships and the men into proper condition--or else warlike operations will have to be entered into while unprepared, and the classic _Chesapeake-Shannon_ tragedy re-enacted. Therefore, the endeavor must be strongly made to have ready always all the ships and men that are to be added to the fleet; the ships equipped for their duties in the fleet, and the men drilled for their future tasks. The matter of getting ready the navy ships that are in reserve is largely a matter of getting the men to man them, as the ships themselves are kept in repair, and so in a state of readiness, materially speaking. At least this is the theory; and the successful application of the theory, when tested in practice, depends greatly on how large a proportion of the full complements has been kept on board, and on the amount and nature of the cruising which the vessels in reserve have done. The ideal conditions cannot be reached, unless the full complements have been kept on board, and the ships required to make frequent cruises. Of course, such a condition is never met in reserve ships; there would be no reason for putting ships in reserve if they were to be so handled. The more closely, however, a ship is kept in that condition of readiness, the more quickly she can be made absolutely ready in her material condition. Unless one realizes how and why ships deteriorate in material, it is surprising to see how many faults develop, when ships in reserve, that are apparently in good condition, are put into active service. Trouble is not found, of course, with the stationary parts, like the bottoms, and sides, and decks, so much as with the moving parts, especially the parts that have to move and be steam and gas tight at the same time--the parts found mainly in the steam engineering and ordnance departments. Defects in the moving parts, especially in the joints, are not apt to be found out until they are moved, and often not until they are moved under the pressure and with the speeds required in service. Now "in service" usually means in service in time of peace; but the service for which those ships are kept in reserve is war service, and the requirements of war service are much more rigorous than those of peace service. Objection may be made to this statement by remarking that engines turn around and guns are fired just the same in war as in peace, and that therefore the requirements are identical. True in a measure; but vessels and guns are apt to be forced more in war than in peace; and even if they were not, vessels in time of peace are gotten ready with a considerable degree of deliberation, are manned by well-trained men, and are sent to sea under circumstances which permit of gradually working up to full service requirements. But when reserve vessels are mobilized and sent into service for war, everything is done with the utmost haste; and the men, being hurriedly put on board, cannot possibly be as well trained and as ready to do skilful work as men sent on board in peace time; and when reserve vessels get to sea they may be required immediately to perform the most exacting service. For all these reasons, it is highly desirable--it is essential to adequate preparation--that vessels should be kept in a state of material readiness that is practically perfect. Every vessel on board of which defects in material develop after she shall have been put into service, when war breaks out, will be a liability instead of an asset. She will be able to render no effective service, and she will require the expenditure of energy by officers and men, and possibly the assistance of other vessels, when their services are needed for other work. But the problem of how to keep reserve vessels in a state of material readiness is easier than the problem of how to keep the reserve men in a state of personnel readiness, which will insure their reporting on board of the reserve ships quickly enough and with adequate training. This problem is so difficult, and its solution is so important, that in Great Britain, France, Germany, Japan, and doubtless other navies, men are compelled to go into the reserves, and to remain in for several years after completing their periods of service in the regular navy. In this way, no breaking away from the navy occurs until after reserve service has been completed, and every man who enlists remains in the navy and is subject to its discipline until his reserve period has been passed. Thus the question of the reserve is a question that has been answered in those countries, and is therefore no longer a question in them. If battleship _A_ in any of those countries is to be mobilized, the government knows just who are to go on board and when; and knows that every man has recently served in the regular navy, has been kept in training ever since he left it, and that he is competent to perform the duties of his allotted station in battleship _A_. The problem of getting into service the ships that are to be gotten from the merchant service is more difficult, and is perhaps of more importance; that is, it is more important to get into the service some vessels from the merchant service than some reserve ships; more important, for instance, to get colliers to serve the fleet with coal than to commission some antiquated cruisers. Naturally, the number and kinds of ships that need to be provided will depend on the nature of the war--whether, for instance, a very large force is to be sent to the other side of the world, to meet a powerful fleet there, or whether a sudden attack on our Atlantic coast is to be repelled. The difference, however, is largely numerical; so that if the plans provide for a sufficient number to take part in the distant expedition, it will be easy to get the appropriate number to meet a coast attack. To receive an attack upon the coast, however, provision must be made for vessels and men not needed on an expedition across the seas--that is, for vessels and men that will defend the coast itself from raids and similar expeditions. The work of preparing all that part of the naval machine which in time of peace is separate from the active fleet is purely one of logistics; it is that part of the preparation which calculates what ways and means are needed, and then supplies those ways and means. Logistics, having been told by strategy what strategy plans to do, calculates how many and what kinds of vessels, men, guns, torpedoes, fuel, food, hospital service, ammunition, etc., are needed to make possible the fulfilling of those plans; and then proceeds to provide what it has calculated must be provided. This does not mean that strategy should hold itself aloof from logistics and make arbitrary demands upon it; for such a procedure would result in making demands that logistics could not supply; or, through an underestimate of what logistics can supply, in refraining from demanding as much as could be supplied. Logistics, of course, does provide what strategy wants, in so far as it can; but in order that satisfactory results may be obtained, the fullest co-operation between strategy and logistics is essential; and to this end frequent conferences are required between the officers representing both. The logistic work of expanding the naval forces to a war basis may evidently be divided into two parts: the adding of vessels and other craft appropriately equipped and manned to the active fleet, and the establishment of a coast-defense force, which will be distributed along the coast and divided among the most important commercial and strategic centres. _Adding to the Fleet_.--Naturally, the additions to the fleet will depend on the service for which the fleet is intended; that is, on the plans of strategy. If the navy were to be gotten ready for a definite undertaking, then the additions to carry out that undertaking could be calculated and prepared; and of course this condition does come up immediately before any war occurs. But in addition to these preparations which are to be made at the last moment (many of which cannot be made until the last moment), the staff must prepare in the leisure of profound peace for several different contingencies. Inasmuch as many of the additions will be needed, no matter with what country the war may come; and inasmuch as the same general kind of additions will be made, it is clear that there must underlie all the various plans one general plan, to which modifications must be made to adapt it to special conditions. And as, no matter whether we are to take the offensive or the defensive, no matter whether the fleet is to go far away or stay near our coast, the matter of additions to it is mainly a matter of degree (whether for instance ten extra colliers are needed or a hundred), it seems clear that the general plan should be the one demanding the greatest additions, so that the modifications to adapt it to special cases would consist merely in making subtractions from it. To carry out this plan, strategy must make a sufficiently grave estimate of the situation; and logistics must make calculations to supply the most difficult demands that the estimate of the situation indicates as reasonable, and then arrange the means to provide what the calculations show. If one has provided a little more than is necessary, it is much easier to leave out something later than it is to add more, if one has not provided enough; and one's natural indolence then acts on the side of safety, since it tends to persuade one not to leave off too much; whereas in the opposite case, it tends to assure him that it is not really necessary to take the trouble to provide what it might be hard to get. _The Estimate of the Situation.--In no field of strategical work is an accurate estimate of the situation more clearly necessary than when it is to form the basis for the precise calculations of logistics_. General strategical plans require a vividness of imagination and a boldness of conception that find no field for exercise in logistics; and tactics requires a quickness of decision and a forcefulness of execution that neither strategy nor logistics need; but neither strategy nor tactics calls for the mathematical exactness that logistics must have, or be of no avail. Yet there will be no use in working out the mathematically correct means to produce certain result, if the real nature of the desired result is underrated; there will be no use in working out laboriously how many ships and tons of coal and oil are needed, if the estimate of the situation, to meet which those ships and coal and oil are needed, is inadequate. The first step, therefore, in providing for the expansion of the navy for war, is to estimate the situation correctly. The greatest difficulty in doing this arises from a species of moral cowardice, which tempts a man to underestimate its dangers, and therefore the means required to meet them. _Probably no single cause of defeat in war has been so pregnant with disaster as this failure to make a sufficiently grave estimate of the situation_. Sometimes the failure seems due more to carelessness than to cowardice; Napoleon's disastrous underestimate of the difficulties of his projected Russian campaign seems more due to carelessness than to cowardice; but this may be due to a difficulty of associating cowardice with Napoleon. But is it not equally difficult to associate carelessness with Napoleon? What professional calculator, what lawyer's clerk was ever more careful than Napoleon was, when dealing with problems of war? Who was ever more attentive to details, who more industrious, who more untiring? And yet Napoleon's plans for his Russian campaign were inadequate to an amazing degree, and the inadequacy was the cause of his disaster. But whether the cause was carelessness or moral cowardice on his part, the fact remains that he did not estimate the situation with sufficient care, and make due plans to meet it. This unwillingness to look a difficult situation in the face one can see frequently in daily life. Great difficulties seem to appall some people. They hate so much to believe a disaster possible, they fear so much to let themselves or others realize that a danger is impending, they are so afraid that other people will think them "nervous," and they shrink so from recommending measures that would cause great exertions or great expenditures, that they are very prone to believe and say that there is no especial danger, and that whatever danger there may be, can be obviated by measures that are easy and cheap to carry out. If we yield to this feeling, we are guilty of moral cowardice, and we vitiate all the results of all our labors. We _must_ make a correct estimate of the situation--or rather we must estimate the situation to be as grave as it is--or our preparations will be of no avail. If we estimate the situation too gravely, we may spend more money and time on our preparations than is quite needed, and our preparations may be more than adequate. It may be that the preparations which Prussia made before 1870 for war with France were more than adequate. In fact, it looks as if they were, in view of the extreme quickness with which she conquered France. But does any military writer condemn Prussia for having made assurance too sure? _The Value of Superadequate Preparation_.--No, on the contrary. The very reasons that make adequate preparation valuable make superadequate preparation even more valuable. The reason is very clear, as is shown by the table on page 284 illustrating the progressive wasting of fighting forces, which the writer published in the _U. S. Naval Institute_ in an essay called "American Naval Policy," in April, 1905.[*] [Footnote *: I have recently been informed that Lieutenant (now Commander) J. V. Chase, U. S. N., arrived at practically the same results in 1902 by an application of the calculus; and that he submitted them to the U. S. Naval War College in a paper headed, "Sea Fights: A Mathematical Investigation of the Effect of Superiority of Force in."--B. A. F.] TABLE I ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- | |Col.|Col.|Col.|Col.|Col.|Col.|Col.|Col.|Col.|Col.| | | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | |----------------------------------------------------------------------------| |Value of offensive power A|1000|1000|1000|1000|1000|1000|1000|1000|1000|1000| | at beginning B|1000| 900| 800| 700| 600| 500| 400| 300| 200| 100| |Damage done in 1st A| 100| 100| 100| 100| 100| 100| 100| 100| 100| 100| | period B| 100| 90| 80| 70| 60| 50| 40| 30| 20| 10| |Value of offensive power A| 900| 910| 920| 930| 940| 950| 960| 970| 980| 990| | at end of 1st period B| 900| 800| 700| 600| 500| 400| 300| 200| 100| 0| |Damage done in 2nd A| 90| 91| 92| 93| 94| 95| 96| 97| 98| | | period B| 90| 80| 70| 60| 50| 40| 30| 20| 10| | |Value of offensive power A| 810| 830| 850| 870| 890| 910| 930| 950| 970| | | at end of 2nd period B| 810| 709| 608| 507| 406| 305| 204| 103| 2| | |Damage done in 3rd A| 81| 83| 85| 87| 89| 91| 93| 95| | | | period B| 81| 71| 61| 51| 41| 31| 20| 10| | | |Value of offensive power A| 729| 759| 789| 819| 849| 879| 910| 940| | | | at end of 3rd period B| 729| 626| 523| 420| 317| 214| 111| 8| | | |Damage done in 4th A| 73| 76| 79| 82| 85| 88| 91| | | | | period B| 73| 63| 52| 42| 32| 21| 11| | | | |Value of offensive power A| 656| 696| 737| 777| 817| 858| 899| | | | | at end of 4th period B| 656| 550| 444| 338| 232| 126| 20| | | | |Damage done in 5th A| 65| 70| 74| 78| 82| 86| | | | | | period B| 65| 55| 44| 34| 23| 13| | | | | |Value of offensive power A| 591| 641| 693| 743| 794| 845| | | | | | at end of 5th period B| 591| 480| 370| 260| 150| 40| | | | | |Damage done in 6th A| 59| 64| 69| 74| 79| 85| | | | | | period B| 59| 48| 37| 26| 15| 4| | | | | |Value of offensive power A| 532| 593| 656| 717| 779| | | | | | | at end of 6th period B| 532| 416| 301| 186| 71| | | | | | |Damage done in 7th A| 53| 59| 66| 72| 78| | | | | | | period B| 53| 42| 30| 19| 7| | | | | | |Value of offensive power A| 479| 551| 626| 698| 772| | | | | | | at end of 7th period B| 479| 357| 235| 114| 0| | | | | | |Damage done in 8th A| 48| 55| 63| 70| | | | | | | | period B| 48| 36| 24| 11| | | | | | | |Value of offensive power A| 431| 515| 602| 687| | | | | | | | at end of 8th period B| 431| 302| 172| 44| | | | | | | |Damage done in 9th A| 43| 52| 60| 69| | | | | | | | period B| 43| 30| 17| 4| | | | | | | |Value of offensive power A| 388| 485| 585| 683| | | | | | | | at end of 9th period B| 388| 250| 112| 0| | | | | | | |Damage done in 10th A| 39| 49| 59| | | | | | | | | period B| 39| 25| 11| | | | | | | | |Value of offensive power A| 349| 460| 574| | | | | | | | | at end of 10th period B| 349| 201| 53| | | | | | | | |Damage done in 11th A| 35| 46| 57| | | | | | | | | period B| 35| 20| 5| | | | | | | | |Value of offensive power A| 314| 440| 569| | | | | | | | | at end of 11th period B| 314| 155| 0| | | | | | | | |Damage done in 12th A| 31| 44| | | | | | | | | | period B| 31| 16| | | | | | | | | |Value of offensive power A| 283| 426| | | | | | | | | | at end of 12th period B| 283| 111| | | | | | | | | | | |etc.| | | | | | | | | |Total damage done by A| 717| 789| 800| 700| 600| 500| 400| 300| 200| 100| | B| 717| 574| 431| 317| 228| 159| 101| 60| 30| 10| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- These tables grew out of an attempt to ascertain how the values of two contending forces change as the fight goes on. The offensive power of the stronger force is placed in the beginning at 1,000 in each case, and the offensive power of the weaker force at 900, 800, 700, 600, 500, 400, 300, 200, and 100. These values are, of course, wholly arbitrary, and some may say imaginary; but, as they are intended merely to show the comparative strength of the two forces, they are a logical measure, because numerical; there is always some numerical factor that expresses the comparative value of two contending forces, even though we never know what that numerical factor is. Two forces with offensive powers of 1,000 and 900 respectively may mean 1,000 men opposed to 900 men of equal average individual fighting value, commanded by officers of equal fighting ability; or it may mean 10 ships opposed to 9 like ships, manned by officers and men of equal numbers and ability; or it may mean two forces of equal strength, as regards number of men, ships, and guns, but commanded by officers whose relative ability is as 1,000 to 900. It may be objected here that it is ridiculous so to compare officers, because the ability of officers cannot be so mathematically tabulated. This, of course, is true; but the fact that we are unable so to compare officers is no reason for supposing that the abilities of officers, especially officers of high position, do not affect quantitatively the fighting value of the forces they command; and the intention in mentioning this factor is simply to show that the relative values of the forces, as indicated in these tables, are supposed to include all the factors that go to make them up. Another convention, made in these tables, is that every fighting force is able to inflict a damage in a given time that is proportional to the force itself; that a force of 1,000, for instance, can do twice as much damage in a given time as a force of 500 can; also that a force can do an amount of damage under given conditions that is proportional to the time in which it is at work; that it can do twice as much damage in two hours, for instance, as in one hour, _provided the conditions for doing damage remain the same_. Another convention follows from these two conventions, and it is that there is a period of time in which a given force can destroy a force equal, say, to one-tenth of itself under certain conditions; that there is some period of time, for instance, in which, under given conditions, 1,000 men can disable 100 men, or 10 ships disable 1 ship, or 10 guns silence 1 gun. In the conflicts supposed to be indicated in these tables, this period is the one used. It will be plain that it is not necessary to know how long this period is, and also that it depends upon the conditions of the fight. In Table I, it is supposed that the chance of hitting and the penetrability are the same to each contestant. In other words, it is assumed that the _effective targets_ presented by the two forces are alike in the sense that, if the two targets are hit at the same instant by like projectiles, equal injuries will be done. In other words, if each contestant at a given instant fires, say a 12-inch shell, the injury done to one will be the same as that done to the other; not proportionately but quantitatively. For instance, if one force has 10 ships and the other has 9 like ships, all the ships being so far apart that a shot aimed at one ship will probably not hit another, the conditions supposed in Table I, column 2, are satisfied; the chances of hitting are identical for both contestants, and so is the damage done at every hit. Table I supposes that the chance of hitting and damaging does not change until the target is destroyed. As the desire of the author is now to show the advantage of having a superadequate force, the following table has been calculated to show the effect of forces of different size in fighting an enemy of known and therefore constant size: TABLE II ----------------------------------------------------------------------- | |Col. 1|Col. 2|Col. 3| |--------------------------------------------------|------|------|------| |Value of offensive power at beginning. A | 1100 | 1500 | 2000 | | B | 1000 | 1000 | 1000 | |Damage done in 1st period by A | 110 | 150 | 200 | | B | 100 | 100 | 100 | |Value of offensive power at end of 1st period A | 1000 | 1400 | 1900 | | B | 890 | 850 | 800 | |Damage done in 2nd period by A | 100 | 140 | 190 | | B | 89 | 85 | 80 | |Value of offensive power at end of 2nd period A | 911 | 1315 | 1820 | | B | 790 | 710 | 610 | |Damage done in 3rd period by A | 91 | 131 | 182 | | B | 79 | 71 | 61 | |Value of offensive power at end of 3rd period A | 832 | 1244 | 1759 | | B | 699 | 579 | 422 | |Damage done in 4th period by A | 83 | 124 | 176 | | B | 70 | 58 | 43 | |Value of offensive power at end of 4th period A | 762 | 1186 | 1716 | | B | 616 | 455 | 252 | |Damage done in 5th period by A | 76 | 119 | 172 | | B | 62 | 46 | 25 | |Value of offensive power at end of 5th period A | 700 | 1140 | 1691 | | B | 540 | 336 | 80 | |Damage done in 6th period by A | 70 | 114 | 169 | | B | 54 | 34 | 8 | |Value of offensive power at end of 6th period A | 646 | 1106 | 1683 | | B | 470 | 222 | 0 | |Damage done in 7th period by A | 65 | 110 | | | B | 47 | 22 | | |Value of offensive power at end of 7th period A | 599 | 1084 | | | B | 405 | 112 | | |Damage done in 8th period by A | 60 | 108 | | | B | 41 | 11 | | |Value of offensive power at end of 8th period A | 558 | 1073 | | | B | 345 | 4 | | |Damage done in 9th period by A | 56 | 4 | | | B | 35 | 0 | | |Value of offensive power at end of 9th period A | 523 | 1073 | | | B | 289 | 0 | | |Damage done in 10th period by A | 53 | | | | B | 29 | | | |Value of offensive power at end of 10th period A | 494 | | | | B | 236 | | | |Damage done in 11th period by A | 49 | | | | B | 24 | | | |Value of offensive power at end of 11th period A | 470 | | | | B | 187 | | | | | | | | |Value of offensive power at end of 16th period A | 422 | | | | B | 0 | | | ----------------------------------------------------------------------- It will be noted that if our force is superior to the enemy's in the ratio of 1,100 to 1,000, the fight will last longer than if it is superior in the ratio of 1,500 to 1,000, in the proportion of 16 to 9; and that if it is superior in the ratio of 1,100 to 1,000 the fight will last longer than if it is superior in the ratio of 2 to 1, in the proportion of 16 to 6. We also see that we should, after reducing the enemy to 0, have forces represented by 422, 1,073, and 1,683, respectively, and suffer losses represented by 678, 427, and 317, respectively. Now the difference in fighting forces cannot be measured in units of material and personnel only, though they furnish the most accurate general guide. Two other factors of great importance enter, the factors of skill and morale. Skill is perhaps more of an active agent, and morale is perhaps more of a passive agent, like the endurance of man or the strength of material; and yet in some battles morale has been a more important factor in attaining victory than even skill. It is not vital to this discussion which is the more important; but it is vital to realize clearly that skill and morale are not to be forgotten, when we calculate how many and what kinds of material and personnel units we must provide for a war; and inasmuch as we cannot weigh morale and skill, or even be sure in most cases as to which side will possess them in the superior degree, we are forced in prudence to assume that the enemy may possess them in a superior degree, and that therefore we should secure superadequacy in units of personnel and material; not so much to win victory with the minimum of loss to ourselves, as simply to avert disaster. The present war shows us that the factors of skill and morale, while independent of each other, are closely linked together, and react upon each other. Nothing establishes a good morale more than does the knowledge of exceeding skill; and nothing promotes skill more than does an enthusiastic and firm morale. But superadequateness of preparation has a value greater than in merely insuring victory with minimum loss to ourselves, in case war comes, because it exerts the most potent of all influences in preventing war, since it warns an enemy against attacking. At the present day, the laws of victory and defeat are so well understood, and the miseries resulting from defeat are so thoroughly realized, that no civilized country will voluntarily go to war, except for extraneous reasons, if it realizes that the chances of success are small. And as the cumulative consequences of defeats are also realized, and as no country is apt to assume that the morale and skill of its forces are measurably greater than those of a probable antagonist, no country and no alliance is apt to provoke war with a nation whose armed forces are superior in number of units of personnel and material; unless, of course, the nation is markedly inferior in morale and skill, as the Persians were to the legions of Alexander. It is often insisted that superadequacy in armed force tends to war instead of peace, by inducing a country to make war itself; that the very principles which deter a weak country from attacking a strong country tend to make a strong country attack a weak one. There is some truth in this, of course, and history shows many cases of strong countries deliberately attacking weak ones for the purpose of conquest. Analysis of wars, however, in which strong countries have done this, shows that as a rule, the "strong" country was one which was strong in a military sense only; and that the "weak" country was a country which was weak only militarily, but which was potentially strong in that it was possessed of wealth in land and goods. Most of the great conquests of history were made by such "strong" over such "weak" countries. Such were notably those wars by which Persia, Assyria, Egypt, Greece, Rome, and Spain gained their pre-eminence; and such were the wars by which they later fell. Such were the wars of Ghenghis Khan, Tamerlane, Mahomet, and Napoleon; such were the wars by which most tribes grew to be great nations, and by which as nations they subsequently fell. No greater cause of war has ever existed than a disproportion between countries or tribes of such a character that one was rich and weak, while the other was strong and poor. Nations are much like individuals--and not very good individuals. Highwaymen who are poor and strong organize and drill for the purpose of attacking people who are rich and weak; and while one would shrink from declaring that nations which are poor and strong do the same, it may nevertheless be stated that they have often been accused of doing so, and that some wars are explainable on that ground and on none other. The wars of Cæsar in Gaul and Britain do not seem to fall in this category, and yet they really do; for Rome was poor in Julius Cæsar's day; and while Gaul and Britain were not rich in goods, they were rich in land, and Rome craved land. Of course, there have been wars which were not due to deliberate attacks by poor and strong countries on rich and weak countries; wars like our wars of the Revolution, and with Mexico, our War of the Rebellion, and our Spanish War, and many others in which various nations have engaged. The causes of many wars have been so numerous and so complex that the true cause is hard to state; but it may be stated in general that wars in which countries that were both rich and strong, as Great Britain and France are now, have deliberately initiated an aggressive war are few and far apart. The reason seems to be that countries which are rich tend to become not militaristic and aggressive, but effeminate and pacific. The access of luxury, the refinements of living that the useful and the delightful arts produce, and the influence of women, tend to wean men from the hardships of military life, and to engender a distaste for the confusion, bloodshed, and "horrors" of war. For this reason, the rich countries have shown little tendency to aggression, but a very considerable tendency to invite aggression. Physical fighting among nations bears some resemblance to physical fighting among men, in that rich nations and rich men are apt to abstain from it, unless they are attacked; or unless they think they are attacked, or will be. The fact of being rich has the double influence of removing a great inducement to go to war, and of causing a distaste for it. For all of the reasons given above, it would seem advisable when making an "estimate of the situation," in preparation for war, to estimate it as gravely as reasonable probability will permit. The tendency of human nature is to estimate it too lightly; but in matters of possible war, "madness lies that way." This seems to mean that in preparing plans for additions to the fleet for war, we should estimate for the worst condition that is reasonably probable. In the United States, this means that we should estimate for a sudden attack by a powerful fleet on our Atlantic coast; and, as such an attack would occasion a tremendous temptation to any foe in Asia to make a simultaneous attack in the Pacific, we must estimate also for sending a large fleet at the same time on a cruise across the Pacific Ocean. This clearly means that our estimate must include putting into the Atlantic and Pacific all the naval vessels that we have, fully manned with fully drilled crews; and adding besides all the vessels from civil life that will be needed. The vessels taken from civil life will be mostly from the merchant service, and will be for such auxiliary duties as those of hospital ships, supply ships, fuel ships, and ammunition ships, with some to do duty as scouts. For the purposes of the United States, therefore, the office of naval strategy in planning additions to our fleet for war, is to make a grave estimate of the naval requirements in both the Atlantic and the Pacific; to divide the total actual and prospective naval force between the Atlantic and the Pacific in such a way as shall seem the wisest; to assign duties in general to each force; and then to turn over to logistics the task of making the quantitative calculations, and of performing the various acts, which will be necessary to carry out the decisions made. Objection may be made to the phrase just used--"to divide the total force," because it is an axiom with some that one must never divide his total force; and the idea of dividing our fleet, by assigning part to the Atlantic and part to the Pacific, has been condemned by many officers, the present writer among them. This is an illustration of how frequently phrases are used to express briefly ideas which could not be expressed fully without careful qualifications and explanations that would necessitate many words; and it shows how carefully one must be on his guard, lest he put technical phrases to unintended uses, and attach incorrect meanings to them. As a brief technical statement, we may say, "never divide your force"; but when we say this, we make a condensed statement of a principle, and expect it to be regarded as such, and not as a full statement. The full statement would be: "In the presence of an active enemy, do not so divide your force that the enemy could attack each division in detail with a superior force." Napoleon was a past master in the art of overwhelming separate portions of an enemy's force, and he understood better than any one else of his time the value of concentration. And yet a favorite plan of his was to detach a small part of his force, to hold a superior force of the enemy in check for--say a day--while he whipped another force of the enemy with his main body. He then turned and chastised the part which had been held in check by the small detachment, and prevented from coming to the relief of the force that he attacked first. When we say, then, that strategy directs how our naval force should be divided between the Atlantic and the Pacific, this does not mean that strategy should so divide it that both divisions would be confronted with forces larger than themselves. It may mean, however, that strategy, in order that the force in one ocean shall be sufficient, may be compelled to reduce the force in the other ocean almost to zero. Some may say that, unless we are sure that our force--say in the Atlantic--is superadequate, we ought to reduce the force in the Pacific to actual zero. Maybe contingencies might arise for which such a division would be the wisest; but usually such a condition exists that one force is so large that the addition to it of certain small units would increase the force only microscopically; whereas those small units would be of material value elsewhere--say in protecting harbors from the raids of small cruisers. Practically speaking, therefore, strategy would divide our naval force into Atlantic and Pacific fleets, but those fleets might be very unequal in size, owing to the vastly greater commercial and national interests on our Atlantic coast, and the greater remoteness of probable enemies on our Pacific coast. In estimating the work to be done by the U. S. Atlantic fleet, three general objects suggest themselves: 1. To repel an attack made directly on our Atlantic continental coast. 2. To repel an expedition striving to establish a base in the Caribbean, preliminary to an attack on our Atlantic continental coast or on the Panama Canal. 3. To make an expedition to a distant point, to prevent the occupation of territory by a foreign government in the south Atlantic or the Pacific. _First Object_.--To repel an attack made directly on the Atlantic coast, the plan must provide for getting the needed additions to the fleet with the utmost despatch. Owing to the keen appreciation by European nations of the value of secrecy and despatch, any attack contemplated by one of them on our Atlantic coast would be prepared behind the curtain, and nothing about its preparation would be allowed to be reported to the outside world until after the attacking force had actually sailed. For the force to reach our shores, not more than two weeks would be needed, even if the fleet stopped at mid-Atlantic islands to lay in fuel. It is very doubtful if the fact of stopping there would be allowed to be reported, as the commander-in-chief could easily take steps to prevent it. It is possible that merchant steamers might meet the fleet, and report the fact by radio, but it is not at all certain. A great proportion of the steamers met would willingly obey an order not to report it, or even to have their radio apparatus deranged; either because of national sympathy, or because the captain was "insulted with a very considerable bribe." The probability, therefore, would be that we should hear of the departure of the fleet from Europe, and then hear nothing more about it until it was met by our scouts. This reasoning shows that to carry out the plans of strategy, logistics would have to provide plans and means to execute those plans, whereby our existing fleet, plus all the additions which strategy demanded, would be waiting at whatever points on the ocean strategy might indicate, before the coming enemy would reach those points. In other words, logistics must make and execute such plans that all the fleet which strategy demands will be at the selected points in less than two weeks from the time the enemy leaves the shores of Europe. Of course, the conditions will not necessarily be such that strategy will demand that all our reserve ships, especially the oldest ships, shall go out to sea with the active fleet, ready to engage in battle. Maybe some of them will be found to be so slow and equipped with such short-range guns, that they would be an embarrassment to the commander-in-chief, instead of an assistance. Unless it is clear, however, that any ship, especially a battleship, _would be an embarrassment_, her place is clearly with the fighting fleet. The issue of the battle cannot be known in advance; and as everything will depend upon that issue, no effort and no instrument should be spared that can assist in gaining victory. And even if the older ships might not be of material assistance in the early stages of a battle, they would do no harm because they could be kept out of the way, if need be. In case either side gains a conclusive victory at once, the older ships will do neither good nor harm; but in case a decisive result is not at once attained, and both sides are severely damaged, the old ships, held in reserve, may then come in fresh and whole, like the reserve in land engagements, and add a fighting force which at that time will be most important and may be decisive. Probably some of the ships will be too old, however, to fill places of any value in the active fleet. These should be fully manned and equipped, however, for there will be many fields of usefulness for them. One field will be in assisting the land defenses, in protecting the mouths of harbors and mine-fields, in defending submarine bases, and acting as station ships in the coast-defense system. _Second Object_.--To repel an enemy expedition, striving to establish a base in the Caribbean, preparation would have to be made for as prompt a mobilization as possible; for although the threat of invasion of our coast would not carry with it the idea of such early execution as would a direct attack on New York, yet the actual establishment of a base so near our shores would give such advantages to a hostile nation for a future invasion, that measures to prevent it should be undertaken with the utmost possible thoroughness and despatch; because the operation of establishing a base involves many elements of difficulty that an active defender can hinder by aeroplane attacks, etc.; whereas, after a base has once been established and equipped with appropriate defenses, attacks upon it are much less productive of results. The endeavor to establish a base and the opposing effort to prevent it, will offer many opportunities for excellent work on both sides. Practically all the elements of naval force will be engaged, and events on the largest possible scale may be expected. The operations will naturally be more extended both in time and distance than in the case of a direct attack upon our coast, and therefore the task of logistics will be greater. Actual battle between large forces; minor engagements among aircraft, scouts, submarines, and destroyers; attacks on the train of the invader--even conflicts on shore--will be among the probabilities. _Third Object_.--To send a large expedition to carry out naval operations in far distant waters--in the south Atlantic, for instance, to prevent the extension of a monarchical government in South America, or in the western Pacific to defend our possessions there--calls for plans involving more logistical calculation and execution, but permitting a more leisurely procedure. The distances to be traversed are so great, the lack of bases is so distinct and so difficult to remedy, and the impossibility of arriving in time to prevent the seizing of land by any hostile expedition is so evident, that they combine to necessitate great thoroughness of preparation and only such a measure of despatch as can be secured without endangering thoroughness. Whether the projected expedition shall include troops, the conditions at the time must dictate. Troops with their transports will much complicate and increase the difficulties of the problem, and they may or may not be needed. The critical results can be accomplished by naval operations only; since nothing can be accomplished if the naval part of the expedition fails to secure the command of the sea; and the troops cannot be landed until it has been secured, unless the fact of securing it can safely be relied on in advance. For these reasons, the troops may be held back until the command of the sea has been secured, and then sent out as an independent enterprise. This would seem the more prudent procedure in most cases, since one successful night attack on a group of transports by an active enemy might destroy it altogether. But whether a military expedition should accompany the fleet, or follow a few hundred miles behind, or delay starting until command of the sea has been achieved, it is obvious that the logistic calculations and executive measures for sending a modern fleet to a very distant place, and sustaining it there for an indefinite period, must be of the highest order of difficulty. The difficulty will be reduced in cases where there is a great probability of being able to secure a base which would be able to receive large numbers of deep-draft ships in protected waters, to repair ships of all classes that might be wounded in battle, and to store and supply great quantities of ammunition, food, and fuel. No expedition of such magnitude has ever yet been made--though some of the expeditions of ancient times, such as the naval expedition of Persia against Greece, B. C. 480, and the despatch of the Spanish Armada in more recent days, may have been as difficult, considering the meagreness of the material and engineering resources of those epochs. But even if no military force accompanies the expedition, the enormous quantities of fuel, supplies, ammunition, medical stores, etc., that will be required, especially fuel; the world-wide interest that will be centred on the expedition; the international importance attaching to it; and the unspeakable necessity that the plans shall underestimate no difficulty and overlook no factor, point with a long and steady finger at the necessity of attacking this problem promptly and very seriously, and of detailing the officers and constructing the administrative machinery needed to make the calculations and to execute the measures that the calculations show to be required. _Static Defense of the Coast_.--But besides the mobile fleet which is a nation's principal concern, strategy requires that for certain points on the coast, where large national and commercial interests are centred, arrangements shall be made for what may be termed a "static defense," by vessels, mine-fields, submarines, aircraft, etc., assigned as permanent parts of the defense of these points, analogous to forts on the land. The naval activities of this species of defense will centre on the mine-fields which it is a great part of their duty to defend. To guard these, and to get timely information of the coming of any hostile force or raiding expedition, strategy says we must get our eyes and ears well out from the land. To do this, water craft and aircraft of various kinds are needed; and they must be not only sufficiently numerous over each area to scout the waters thoroughly, but they must be adapted to their purpose, manned by adequate and skilful crews, and organized so as to act effectively together. The work of this patrol system is not to be restricted, however, to getting and transmitting information. Certain of the craft must be armed sufficiently to drive off hostile craft, trying to drag or countermine the defensive mine-fields; some must be able to add to the defensive mine-fields by planting mines, and some must be able to pilot friendly ships through the defensive mine-fields; others still must be able to countermine, drag, and sweep for any offensive mines that the enemy may plant. Vessels for this patrol work do not have to be very large; in fact, for much of the work in the mine-fields, it were better if they were small, by reason of the ability of small vessels to turn in restricted spaces. It would seem that for the patrol service, the vessels of the Revenue Marine and Lighthouse Service (coast guard) are ideally adapted; but, of course, there are only a few in total. These would have to be supplemented by small craft of many kinds, such as tugs, fast motor-boats, fishing-boats, and trawlers. To find men competent to man such vessels and do the kind of work required would not be so difficult as to get men competent to man the more distinctive fighting ships. Good merchant sailors, fishermen, and tugboat men would fit into the work with considerable ease, and in quite a short time. Strategy declares, however, that a coast guard may be needed a very short time after war breaks out; and that the vessels and the men, with all the necessary equipment and all the necessary organization and training, should be put into actual operation beforehand. Not only the fleet, however, but all the bureaus and offices of the Navy Department, all the navy-yards, and an the radio stations, recruiting stations, hydrographic offices, training stations, and agencies for securing information from foreign countries, will have to pass instantly from a peace basis to a war basis. To do these things quickly and correctly many preliminaries must be arranged; but if the General Staff prepares good plans beforehand, arranges measures which will insure that the plans shall be promptly carried out, and holds a few mobilization drills to test them, the various bureaus and offices in the department can do the rest. If the fires have all been lighted, the engine gotten ready, and the boilers filled in time, the engineer may open the throttle confidently, when the critical time arrives, for the engine will surely do its part. But if the proper plans have not been made and executed, the sudden outbreak of war, in which any country becomes involved with a powerful naval country, will create confusion on a scale larger than any that the world has ever seen, and compared with which pandemonium would be a Quaker meeting. A realization of facts will come to that country, and especially to the naval authorities, that will overwhelm them with the consciousness of their inability to meet the crisis marching toward them with swift but unhurried tread--confident, determined, unescapable. Fear of national danger and the sense of shame, hopelessness and helplessness will combine to produce psychological effects so keen that even panic will be possible. Officers in high places at sea and on shore will send telegrams of inquiry and suggestion; civilians in public and private station will do the same. No fitting answers can be given, because there will be no time for reflection and deliberation. The fact that it would be impossible to get the various additions to the fleet and the patrol services ready in time, and the consciousness that it would be useless to do any less, will tend to bring on a desperate resolve to accept the situation and let the enemy do his worst. The actual result, however, will probably be like the result of similar situations in the past; that is, some course of action will be hastily decided on, not in the reasoned-out belief that it can accomplish much, but with the feeling that action of any kind will relieve the nervous tension of the public by giving an outlet for mental and physical exertion and will, besides, lend itself to self-encouragement, and create a feeling that proper and effective measures are being taken. Such conditions, though on a much smaller scale, are familiar to naval officers and are suggested by the supposititious order "somebody do something"; and we frequently see people placed in situations in which they do not know what to do, and so they do--not nothing, but anything; though it would often be wiser to do nothing than to do the thing they do do. Many of the inane remarks that people make are due to their finding themselves in situations in which they do not know what to say, but in which they feel impelled to say "something." Now what kind of "something" would be done under the stimulus of the outbreak of a war for which a country had not laid its plans? Can any worse situation be imagined--except the situation that would follow when the enemy arrived? The parable of the wise and foolish virgins suggests the situation, both in the foolishness of the unpreparedness and in the despair when the consequent disaster is seen approaching. In nearly all navies and armies, until the recent enormous increase in all kinds of material took place, the work of getting a navy ready for war in personnel and material was comparatively simple. This does not mean that it was easier then than now; because the facilities for construction, transportation, communication, and accounting were much less than now; but it does mean that the actual number of articles to be handled was much less, and the number of kinds of articles was also much less; and it also means that the various mechanical improvements, while they have facilitated construction, transportation, communication, and accounting, have done so for every nation; so that none of the competing navies have had their labors expedited or made less. On the contrary, the very means devised and developed for expediting work is of the nature of an instrument; and in order to use that instrument successfully, one has to study it and practise with it; so that the necessity for studying and practising with the instrument has added a new and difficult procedure to those before existing. Fifty years ago the various mechanisms of naval warfare were few, and those few simple. In our Navy Department the work of supplying those mechanisms was divided among several bureaus, and each bureau was given the duty and the accompanying power of supplying its particular quota. The rapid multiplication, during the past fifty years, of new mechanisms, and new kinds of mechanisms; the increased expense of those mechanisms compared with that of former mechanisms; the increased size and power of vessels, guns, and engines; the increased size and complexity of the utilities in navy-yards for handling them; the necessity for providing and using means and methods for despatching the resulting "business" speedily, and for guarding against mistakes in handling the multiplicity of details--the increase, in brief, in the number, size, and kinds of things that have to be done in preparation, has brought about not only more labor in doing those things by the various bureaus assigned to do them, but has brought about even more imperiously the demand for means whereby the central authority shall be assured that each bureau is doing its work. And it has brought about more imperiously still a demand that a clear conception shall be formed first of what must be done, and second of the maximum time that can be allowed for doing it. Clearly, the forming of a correct conception should not be expected of men not trained to form it; clearly, for instance, mere knowledge of electricity and mere skill in using electrical instruments cannot enable a man to devise radio apparatus for naval use; a certain amount of knowledge of purely naval and nautical matters is needed in addition. Clearly, the concept as to the kind of performance to be required of radio apparatus is not to be expected of a mere technician, but is to be expected of a strategist--and equally the ability to design, construct, and supply the apparatus is not to be expected of a strategist, but it is to be expected of a technician. A like remark may be made concerning any mechanism--say a gun, a torpedo, or an instrument, or a vessel of any kind. The strategist, by studying the requirements of probable war, concludes that a certain kind of thing is needed; and the technician supplies it, or does so to the best of his ability. The statement thus far made indicates a division of work into two sharply defined departments; and, theoretically, such a division does exist. This does not mean, however, that the strategist and the technician should work independently of each other. Such a procedure would result in the strategist demanding things the technician could not supply, and in the technician supplying things the strategist did not want, under a mistaken impression as to what the strategist wanted. The fullest and most intimate understanding and co-operation must exist between the strategist and the technician, as it must equally between the architect and the builder of a house. From an appreciation of such facts as these, every great Navy Department, except that of the United States, has developed a General Staff, which studies what should be done to prepare for passing from a state of peace to a state of war; which informs the minister at the head of the department what things should be done, and is given power to provide that the various bureaus and offices shall be able to do them when war breaks. This is the scheme which all the navy departments, except the American, have devised, to meet the sudden and violent shock of the outbreak of a modern war. _No other means has yet been devised_, and no other means is even forecasted. The means is extremely simple in principle, but complex beyond the reach of an ordinary imagination in detail. It consists simply in writing down a digest of all the various things that are to be done, dividing the task of doing them among the various bureaus and offices that are authorized by law to do them, and then seeing that the bureaus shall be able to do them in the time allowed. The best way of ascertaining if the bureaus are able to do them is to mobilize--to put into commission and send out to sea all the craft that will be needed, fully equipped with a trained personnel and with a well-conditioned material; and then direct the commander-in-chief to solve a definite strategic problem--say to defend the coast against a hypothetical enemy fleet--the solution including tactical games by day and night. Before attempting the solution of a strategic problem by an entire naval force, however, it is usual to hold mobilization exercises of a character less complete, in the same way that any course of training begins with drills that are easy and progresses to drills that are difficult. The simplest of all the preparative drills--if drills they correctly can be called--is the periodical reporting, once a month, or once a quarter, by each bureau and office, of its state of readiness; the report to be in such detail as experience shows to be the best. In the days when each bureau's preparation consisted of comparatively few things to do, the chief of that bureau could be relied on to do the things required to be done by his bureau; and his oral assurance to the secretary that--say all the ships had enough ammunition, or that adequate provision had been made for coal, or that there were enough enlisted men--would fulfil all requirements. But in the past fifty years, the requirements have increased a hundredfold, while the human mind has remained just as it was. So it has seemed necessary to institute a system of periodical preparation reports, to examine them carefully, and to use all possible vigilance, lest any item be forgotten or any work done by two bureaus that ought to be done by only one. Who should examine the reports? Naturally the same persons as decide what should be done. The same studies and deliberations that fit a person to decide what is needed, fit him to inspect the product that is offered to supply the need; not only to see if it comes up to the specifications, but also to decide whether or not any observed omission is really important; to decide whether, in view of certain practical difficulties, the specifications may be modified; and also to decide whether certain improvements suggested by any bureau should or should not be adopted. This procedure may seem to put the strategy officers "over" the technical officers, to put a lieutenant-commander on the General Staff "over" a rear admiral who is chief of bureau; but such an idea seems hardly justified. In any well-designed organization relative degrees of official superiority are functions of rank, and of nothing else; superiority in rank must, of course, be recognized, for the reason that when on duty together the junior must obey the senior. But even this superiority is purely official; it is a matter of position, and not a matter of honor. All the honor that is connected with any position is not by reason of the position itself, but by reason of the honorable service which a man must have rendered in order to attain it, and which he must continue to render in order to maintain it. So, in a Navy Department, the General Staff officers cannot be "over" the bureau officers, unless by law or regulation certain of the staff are made to rank over certain bureau officers. A procedure like this would seem to be unnecessary, except in the case of the chief of staff himself, who might, for the purpose of prompt administration, be placed by law over the bureau chiefs. The importance of the question, however, does not rest on a personal basis, but a national basis. It makes no difference to the nation whether Smith is put above Jones, or Jones above Smith; and in all discussions of national matters it is essential to bear in mind clearly not only that national questions must not be obscured by the interjection of the personal element, but also that great vigilance is needed to prevent it. For the reason that questions of the salaries of government officials have been settled in advance, questions of personal prestige and authority are more apt to intrude themselves among them than among men in civil life, whose main object is to "make a living"--and as good a living as they can. In the long struggle that has gone on in the United States Navy Department between the advocates and the opponents of a General Staff, the personal element has clouded the question--perhaps more than any other element. Not only in the department itself, but in Congress, the question of how much personal "power" the General Staff would have has been discussed interminably--as though the personal element were of any importance whatever. Such an attitude toward "power" is not remarkable when held by civilians, but it is remarkable when held by men who have had a military or naval training. Of course, there is an instinct in all men to crave power; but it is not recognized as an instinct wholly worthy. It is associated in most men's minds with a desire for material possessions, such as money or political position, and not with such aspirations as a desire for honor. In other words, a strong desire for wealth or power, while natural and pardonable, is considered a little sordid; while a desire for honor, or for opportunity to do good service, is held to be commendable. So, when public officials, either military or civilian, condemn a measure because it will give somebody "power," the reason given seems to be incomplete, unless a further reason is given which states the harm that would be done by conferring the "power." Military and naval men exercise "power" from the beginning of their careers until their careers are closed; and they exercise it under the sane and restraining influence of responsibility; without which influence, the exercise of power is unjustifiable, and under which influence the exercise of power is a burden--and oftentimes a heavy one. That men trained as military men are trained, should aspire to power for power's own sake, is a little hard to understand--unless it be confessed that the person desiring the power appreciates its pleasing features more than its responsibilities, and regards its duties more lightly than its glories. Few men, even those who shoulder responsibility the most courageously, desire responsibility for its own sake--and so the fact of a man ardently desiring "power" seems a good reason for withholding power from him. And what is "power," in the sense in which officials, both military and civilian, use the word? Is it ability to do good service, or is it ability to bestow favors in order that favors may be received, to give orders to others coupled with authority to enforce obedience, or to take revenge for injuries received or fancied? Of course, "power" is ability to do all these things, good and bad. But if a man desires power simply to do good service, and if he holds a highly conscientious view of the accompanying duties and responsibilities, will he crave "power" as much as some men seem to do? It seems fundamental, then, that any strategic plan for preparing the Navy Department for war should be framed with a strong endeavor to leave out the personal element, and should regard national usefulness only. If this be done successfully, and if good selections be made of the personnel to do it, it will be found that the members of the personnel will think no more about their "power" than does an officer of the deck while handling a battleship in fleet formation during his four hours on the bridge. In preparing the department for war, one would be in danger of being overwhelmed by the enormousness and the complexity of the task, unless he bore in mind continuously that _it is only when we get into details that any matter becomes complex_; and therefore that if we can get a clear idea of the whole subject, the principles that underlie it, and the major divisions into which it naturally is divided, we can then make those divisions and afterward subdivide those divisions, and later divide the subdivisions; so that the whole subject will seem to fall apart as a fowl does under the hands of a skilful carver. The divisions and subdivisions of the subject having been made, the remaining task, while onerous, will be largely a matter of copying and of filling in blank forms. As all navy departments have means regulated by law such that the actual executive work of recruiting, constructing, and supplying the necessary personnel and material shall be done by certain bureaus and offices, strategy does not need executive power, except for forcing the bureaus and offices to do the necessary work--should such forcing become necessary. Strategy being the art of being a general (_strategos_), one cannot conceive of it as bereft of executive power, since we cannot conceive of a general exercising generalship without having executive power. It is true that strategy occupies itself mainly with planning--but so does a general; and it is also true that strategy itself does not make the soldiers march, but neither does a general; it is the colonels and captains and corporals who make the soldiers march. The general plans the campaign and arranges the marches, the halts, the bivouacs, provisions, ammunition, etc., through his logistical officers, and they give the executive officers general instructions as to how to carry out the general's plans. Strategy without executive functions would be like a mind that could think, but was imprisoned in a body which was paralyzed. Of course, strategy should have executive functions for the purposes of strategy only; under the guidance of policy and to execute policy's behests. Policy is the employer, and strategy the employee. CHAPTER XI NAVAL BASES The nature of naval operations necessitates the expenditure of fuel, ammunition, and supplies; wear and tear of machinery; fatigue of personnel; and a gradual fouling of the bottoms of the ships. In case actual battles mark the operations, the expenditure of stored-up energy of all kinds is very great indeed, and includes not only damage done to personnel and material by the various agencies of destruction, but actual loss of vessels. To furnish the means of supplying and replenishing the stored-up energy required for naval operations is the office of naval bases. A naval base capable of doing this for a large fleet must be a very great establishment. In such a naval base, one must be able to build, dock, and repair vessels of all kinds, and the mechanisms needed in those vessels; anchor a large fleet in safety behind adequate military and naval protection; supply enough fuel, ammunition, and supplies for all purposes, and accommodate large reserves of material and personnel. Inasmuch as a naval base is purely a means for expending energy for military purposes, and has no other cause for its existence, it is clear that it cannot be self-supporting. For this reason it is highly desirable that a naval base shall be near a great city, especially if that city be a large commercial and manufacturing centre. It is true that many large naval bases, such as Malta and Gibraltar are not near great cities; and it is true that most large naval bases have no facilities for building ships. But it is also true that few large naval bases fulfil all the requirements of a perfect naval base; in fact it is true that none do. The most obvious requirement of a naval base is a large sheet of sheltered water, in which colliers and oil-carriers may lie and give coal and oil to fighting craft, and in which those fighting craft may lie tranquilly at anchor, and carry on the simple and yet necessary repairs and adjustments to machinery that every cruising vessel needs at intervals. Without the ability to fuel and repair, no fleet could continue long at work, any more than a man could do so, without food and the repairs which nature carries on in sleep. The coming of oil fuel and the consequent ease of fuelling, the practicability even of fuelling in moderate weather when actually at sea, subtract partially one of the reasons for naval bases; but they leave the other reasons still existent, especially the reasons connected with machinery repairs. The principal repair, and the one most difficult to furnish, is that given by docking in suitable docks. The size and expense of docks capable of carrying dreadnaughts and battle cruisers are so great, and their vulnerability to fire from ships and from aircraft is so extreme, that the matter of dry-docks is perhaps the most troublesome single matter connected with a naval base. The necessity of anchorage areas for submarines is a requirement of naval bases that has only recently been felt; and the present war shows a still newer requirement in suitable grounds for aircraft. The speed of aircraft, however, is so great that little delay or embarrassment would result if the camp for aircraft were not at the base itself. Instead of the camp being on Culebra, for instance, it might well be on Porto Rico. The extreme delicacy of aircraft, however, and the necessity for quick attention in case of injuries, especially injuries to the engine, demand a suitable base even more imperiously than do ships and other rugged things. That the vessels anchored in the base should be protected from the fire of ships at sea and from guns on neighboring shores is clear. Therefore, even if a base be hidden from the sea and far from it as is the harbor of Santiago, it must be protected by guns, or mines, or both; the guns being nearer to the enemy than are the ships in the waters of the base. An island having high bluffs, where large guns can be installed, and approached by gradually shoaling waters in which mines can be anchored, with deeper water outside in which submarines can operate, is desirable from this point of view. Ability to store and protect large quantities of provisions is essential, and especially in the case of ammunition and high explosives. For storing the latter, a hilly terrain has advantages, since tunnels can be run horizontally into hills, where explosives can lie safe from attack, even attack from aircraft dropping bombs above them. Naturally, the country that has led the world in the matter of naval bases is Great Britain; and the world at large has hardly yet risen to a realization of the enduring work that she has been quietly doing for two hundred years, in establishing and fortifying commodious resting-places for her war-ships and merchant ships in all the seas. While other nations have been devoting themselves to arranging and developing the interiors of their countries, Great Britain has searched all the oceans, has explored all the coasts, has established colonies and trading stations everywhere, and formed a network of intimate commercial relations which covers the world and radiates from London. To protect her commercial stations and her merchant ships from unfair dealings in time of peace, and from capture in time of war, and to threaten all rivals with defeat should they resort to war, Great Britain has built up the greatest navy in the world. And as this navy pervades the world, and as her merchant ships dot every sea and display Great Britain's ensign in every port, Great Britain has not failed to provide for their safety and support a series of naval stations that belt the globe. Bases are of many kinds, and may be divided into many classes. An evident ground for division is that of locality in relation to the home country. Looked at from this point of view, we may divide naval bases into two classes, home bases and distant bases. _Home Bases_.--A home base is, as its name implies, a base situated in the home country. The most usual type of the home naval base is the navy-yard, though few navy-yards can meet all the requirements of a naval base. The New York navy-yard, for instance, which is our most important yard, lacks three of the most vital attributes of a naval base, in that it has no means for receiving and protecting a large fleet, it cannot be approached by large ships except at high tide, and it could not receive a seriously injured battleship at any time, because the channel leading to it is too shallow. Home bases that approach perfection were evidenced after the battle off the Skagerak; for the wounded ships of both sides took refuge after the battle in protected bases, where they were repaired and refitted, and resupplied with fighting men and fuel. These bases seem to have been so located, so protected, and so equipped, as to do exactly what bases are desired to do; they were "bases of operations" in the best sense. The fleets of the opposing sides started from those bases as nearly ready as human means and foresight could devise, returned to them for refreshment after the operations had been concluded, and, during the operations, were based upon those bases. If the bases of either fleet had been improperly located, or inadequately protected or equipped, that fleet would not have been so completely ready for battle as, in fact, it was; and it could not have gone to its base for shelter and repairs so quickly and so surely as, in fact, it did. Many illustrations can be found in history of the necessity for naval bases; but the illustration given by this battle of May 31 is of itself so perfect and convincing, that it seems hardly necessary or even desirable to bring forward any others. The fact of the nearness to each other of the bases of the two contending fleets--the nearness of Germany and Great Britain in other words--coupled with the nearness of the battle itself to the bases, and the fact that both fleets retired shortly afterward to the bases, bring out in clear relief the efficacy of bases; but nevertheless their efficacy would have been even more strongly shown if the battle had been near to the bases of the more powerful fleet, but far from the bases of the other fleet--as was the case at the battle, near Tsushima, in the Japan Sea. Of course the weaker fleet in the North Sea battle would not have been drawn into battle under such conditions, because it would not have had a safe refuge to retreat to. It was the proximity of an adequate naval base, that could be approached through protected waters only, which justified the weaker fleet in dashing out and taking advantage of what seemed to be an opportunity. Similarly, if the Russian fleet in the Japan Sea had had a base near by, from which it had issued ready in all ways, and to which it could have retired as soon as the battle began to go against it, the Russian disaster might not have occurred, and full command of the sea by the Japanese might have been prevented. But there being no base or harbor of refuge, disaster succeeded disaster in a cumulative fashion, and the Russian fleet was annihilated in deep water. If a naval base were lacking to the more powerful fleet, as was the case in the battle of Manila, the effect would in many cases be but slight--as at Manila. If, however, the more powerful fleet were badly injured, the absence of a base would be keenly felt and might entail disaster in the future, even though the more powerful fleet were actually victorious. The Japanese fleet was practically victorious at the battle of August 10, near Port Arthur; but if it had not been able to refit and repair at a naval base, it would have met the Russian fleet later with much less probability of success. Mahan states that the three main requirements in a naval base are position, resources, and strength; and of these he considers that position is the most important; largely because resources and strength can be artificially supplied, while position is the gift of nature, and cannot be moved or changed. Mahan's arguments seem to suggest that the bases he had in mind were bases distant from home, not home bases; since reference is continually made by him to the distance and direction of bases from important strategic points of actual or possible enemies. His arguments do not seem to apply with equal force to home bases, for the reason that home bases are intended primarily as bases from which operations are to start; secondarily as bases to which fleets may return, and only remotely as bases during operations; whereas, distant bases are intended as points from which operations may continually be carried on, during the actual prosecution of a war. The position of a home base, for instance, as referred to any enemy's coasts or bases, is relatively unimportant, compared with its ability to fit out a fleet; while, on the other hand, the position of distant bases, such as Hong-Kong, Malta, or Gibraltar, relatively to the coasts of an enemy, is vital in the extreme. It is the positions of these three bases that make them so valuable to their holders; placed at points of less strategic value, the importance of those bases would be strategically less. Home bases are valuable mainly by reason of their resources. This does not mean that position is an unimportant factor; it does not mean, for instance, that a naval base would be valuable if situated in the Adirondack Mountains, no matter how great resources it might have. It does mean, however, that the "position" that is important for a home base is the position that the base holds relatively to large home commercial centres and to the open sea. New York, for instance, could be made an excellent naval base, mainly because of the enormous resources that it has and its nearness to the ocean. Philadelphia, likewise, could be made valuable, though Philadelphia's position relatively to deep water is far from good. "Position," as used in this sense, is different from the "position" meant by Mahan, who used the word in its strategic sense. The position of Philadelphia relatively to deep water could be changed by simply deepening the channel of the Delaware; but no human power could change the strategic position of Malta or Gibraltar. Yet for even home bases, position, resources, and strength must be combined to get a satisfactory result; the "position" not being related to foreign naval bases, however, but to large industrial establishments, mainly in order that working men of various classes may be secured when needed. The requirements of work on naval craft are so discontinuous that steady employment can be provided for comparatively few men only; so that a sort of reservoir is needed, close at hand, which can be drawn up when men are needed, and into which men can be put back, whenever the need for them has ceased. And the same commercial and industrial conditions that assure a supply of skilled workers, assure a supply of provisions and all kinds of material as well. _Distant Bases_.--Distant bases have two fields of usefulness which are distinct, though one implies the other; one field being merely that of supplying a fleet and offering a refuge in distress, and the other field being that of contributing thereby to offensive and defensive operations. No matter in which light we regard a distant naval base, it is clear that position, resources, and strength must be the principal factors; but as soon as we concentrate our attention on the operations that may be based upon it, we come to realize how strong a factor position, that is strategic position, is. The base itself is an inert collection of inert materials; these materials can be useful to the operations of a fleet that bases on it; but if the fleet is operating in the Pacific, a base in the Atlantic is not immediately valuable to it, no matter what strength and resources the base may have. The functions of a home base are therefore those that the name "home" implies; to start the fleet out on its mission, to receive it on its return, and to offer rest, refuge, and succor in times of accident and distress. The functions of a distant base concern more nearly the operations of a prolonged campaign. A distant base is more difficult to construct as a rule; largely because the fact of its distance renders engineering operations difficult and because the very excellence of its position as an outpost makes it vulnerable to direct attack and often to a concentration of attacks coming from different directions. If naval operations are to be conducted at considerable distance from home, say in the Caribbean Sea, distant bases are necessary, since without them, the fleet will operate under a serious handicap. Under some conditions, a fleet operating in the Caribbean without a base there, against an enemy that had established a satisfactory base, might have its normal fighting efficiency reduced 50 per cent, or even more. A fleet is not a motionless fort, whose strength lies only in its ability to fire guns and withstand punishment; a fleet is a very live personality, whose ability to fight well--like a pugilist's--depends largely on its ability to move quickly and accurately, and to think quickly and accurately. The best pugilists are not usually the strongest men, though physical strength is an important factor; the best pugilists are men who are quick as well as strong, who see an advantage or a danger quickly, and whose eyes, nerves, and muscles act together swiftly and harmoniously. A modern fleet, filled with high-grade machinery of all kinds, manned by highly trained men to operate it, and commanded by officers fit to be intrusted with such responsibilities, is a highly developed and sensitive organism--and, like all highly developed and sensitive organisms, exists in a state of what may be called "unstable equilibrium." As pointed out in previous pages, the high skill needed to perform well any very difficult task can be gained only by great practice in overcoming difficulties and eliminating errors of many kinds; and when the difficulties are manifold and great, a comparatively small increase or decrease in the overcoming of them makes a great difference in the results attained. An interesting though possibly not very correct analogy is to be seen in the case of a polished surface; for we readily note that the more highly polished the surface is, the more easily it is sullied. Another analogy may be found in the performance of a great pianist or violinist; for a very small failure in his skill for even an instant will produce a painful feeling that could not be produced by a much greater failure in an ordinary performer. Another analogy is to be found in the case of a ship that is going at the upper limit of her speed; for a very minor failure of any part of her machinery will produce a much greater slowing than it would if her speed were slower. Perhaps apologies are in order for dwelling so long on what may seem to some an academic question, but it does not seem to the writer to be academic at all. Certainly, the "condition" of a pugilist, or a fleet, about to fight, is not an academic consideration; and if it is not, no matter which affects this condition can rightfully be considered academic. The whole usefulness of bases is due to their ability to put fleets into good fighting condition and to maintain them in it; and it seems a very proper and useful thing to note that the more highly trained a fleet is, and the more highly organized the various appliances the fleet contains, the more difference results from a falling off in the condition of its personnel and material. This shows the advantage of having a base as close to the place where a fight is going to happen as may be possible. This does not mean, of course, that a fleet should remain for long periods within its base; because a fleet, like any other practiser of any art, needs constant practice. It merely means that the closer the base is to the scene of the operations or the actual battle, the better "tuned up" the personnel and material will be. It also means that this consideration is of the highest practical importance. _Advanced Bases_.--The extreme desirability of having a base near the scene of operations, even if the base be only temporarily held, has led to the use of what are called "advanced bases." An excellent and modern illustration of an advanced base is the base which the Japanese established at the Elliot Islands about sixty miles from Port Arthur, which the Japanese were besieging. The Russian fleet could issue from their base at Port Arthur whenever the Russians wished, and return to it at will. While inside, until the Japanese had landed and attacked them from the land side, the Russians could make their preparations in security and leisure, and then go out. The Japanese fleet, on the other hand, until they had established their base, were forced to remain under way at sea, and to accept action at the will of the Russians; so that, although Port Arthur was besieged, the advantages of the offensive, to some extent, resided with the Russians. The establishment of the base did not, of course, change the situation wholly; but it permitted a very considerable relaxation of vigilance and mental strain on the part of the Japanese, and a considerable easement of the motive power of their ships. Naturally, the Japanese made arrangements whereby their heavy ships could remain in comparative tranquillity near the base, while destroyers and scouts of various kinds kept touch with Port Arthur, and notified the base by wireless of any probable sortie by the Russian fleet. The temporary advanced base at the Elliot Islands was, as temporary advanced bases always must be, quite incomplete in every way as compared with the permanent bases at home. It fulfilled its mission, however, and was in fact as good a base as really was required. The strategic ability of the Japanese was indicated quite early in the war by the promptness and skill with which they established this base. Of course, all advanced bases are distant bases, but the words usually imply temporariness, as does in fact the word "advance." An instance of an advanced base that has been far from temporary is the island of Jamaica, and another is the island of Bermuda; another is Malta, and still another is Gibraltar. These bases form stepping-stones, by which Great Britain's navy may go by easy stages from one position to another, stopping at a base when desired, or going beyond it without stopping, secure in the knowledge that the base is "under her lee" in case of accident or distress. Viewed from the standpoint of operations in an actual war, the strategic value of a certain position for a base is important, no matter whether the operations are offensive or defensive; and the same factors that make a position good for defensive operations make it good for offensive operations also. For instance, if we wish to send a fleet on a hostile expedition to a distant point, it is well to have a base on a salient as far out as practicable from the coast, in order that the fleet may be able to start, full of fuel and supplies, from a place near the distant point; and equally, if we are to receive an attack upon the coast, it is well to have a base far out, in order to embarrass the transit of the enemy toward our coast, by the threat--first against his flank, and later against his rear and his communications. Naval bases looked at from this point of view resemble those forts that European nations place along their frontiers. It is true that any base placed at a salient has the weakness of all salients, in that fire can be concentrated on it from several directions; and a naval base has the added disadvantage of a more difficult withdrawal, if attacked by an overwhelming force, and a longer line of communications that has to be protected. But this weakness all distant bases have, from the fact that they are distant; and, naturally, the more distant they are, the more difficult it is to support them, because the longer are their lines of communications. Distant naval bases, therefore, are vulnerable in a high degree; they are vulnerable both to direct attack and to an attack on their lines of communications; and the factors that help a base in one way injure it in another. If a naval base is placed on a rock, or a rugged little island that holds nothing else, and on which a hostile army could not land, it is very safe from land attack; whereas, if it is placed on a large and fertile island, on which an invading army could easily land, it is extremely vulnerable to land attack. But, on the other hand, the naval base on the inaccessible island could be starved out by simply breaking its lines of communications, while the naval base on the large and fertile island might be able to survive indefinitely, even though the communications were wholly ruptured. The establishment of any permanent distant naval base is a matter of great expense, even if the natural conditions are favorable. But favorable conditions have rarely existed; and the expense of establishing such bases as Malta, Gibraltar, and Heligoland has been tremendous. An important consideration has been the fact that, unless the base were made so strong that it could not be taken, it might be better not to attempt to fortify it, on the theory that it would be better to let a poor naval base fall into the hands of the enemy than a good one. To this reasoning, the answer is usually made that no base can be made absolutely impregnable, and that sufficient defense will be provided if it makes the task and cost of capturing the base greater than the base is worth. This means simply that the more valuable the base is, the more money should be spent in defending it; and that _it is worse than useless to defend it by any means that is obviously too small, in proportion to its value_. It often happens that the places that have the best position are weak in strength and resources; a notable instance is Gibraltar, another is Culebra, and the most notable of all is Guam. None of these places is fortunate in either resources or natural strength, though Gibraltar was strong for the artillery of the time when the base was established there. In fact, it is hard to think of any place that combines in itself the three advantages of a fine strategical position, large resources, and great strength. The three attributes seem almost incompatible; for how can a base far distant from its home be well placed with reference to attacking the lines of communication of any enemy intending to attack the home coast, and yet have its own lines of communications safe? How can it have a sheet of water, just deep enough but not too deep to anchor a large fleet in, with all of its auxiliaries extensive enough to accommodate all the vessels and far enough from the sea to be safe from gun-fire, and yet be on an island so small and so rugged, that an enemy could not land troops near the base and capture it from the land side, as the Japanese captured Port Arthur? The natural strategic advantages of a large and sheltered sheet of water seem to entail the disadvantages of a large island, or a continent. There seems only one way in which to solve the problem of where and how to establish a permanent naval base at a distant point, and that is the way in which the world's preceptor--Great Britain--has solved it; and the solution is to select a place that has already the advantage of position, and then add to it the artificial advantages of resources and military strength. This brief statement makes the matter seem a little too simple; and so it will have to be modified by adding that the mere fact of a place having a fine position is not quite sufficient, because the place must be of such a character that it is capable of having resources and strength added to it; a sharp pinnacle rock in the middle of the Mediterranean, for instance, might have a fine strategic position, and yet be unavailable as a naval base. Even here, however, we must pause to note that energy and will could do much toward making even a pinnacle rock a naval base; for we see the gigantic fortress of Heligoland erected on what was little but a shoal; and we see the diminutive water areas of Malta and Gibraltar made to hold in safety the war-ships of the greatest navy in the world. Despite the paramount importance of strategic position, we must not forget that a naval base should have sufficient military strength to be able to hold out for a long time against hostile operations, as many bases, notably Gibraltar and Port Arthur, have done, without the assistance of the fleet. The German base at Kiao-chau held out for more than two months in 1914, without any external aid. During all the time of siege, even if surrender is ultimately to occur, the enemy's forces are prevented from being utilized elsewhere. This condition was clearly shown during the siege of Port Arthur, because the large force of Japanese troops required to conduct the siege were urgently needed in Manchuria--to which region they were sent as soon as Port Arthur fell. From this point of view, naval bases again look much like fortresses on the land; fortresses like Metz and Strasburg, that had to be subdued before an enemy could safely pass them. _Strategic Position of Distant Bases_.--Since the strategic position of an outlying naval base is the principal factor that goes to make its value, it may be well to consider what elements make a strategic position good. To make the problem clear, let us take a concrete case, that of our own country, and consider what elements would constitute a good strategic position for a naval base of the United States, leaving out of consideration for the moment any questions of resources and military strength. In the case of a war with a nation that had only one naval home base, it is clear that the best position for our distant base would be one as close to the enemy's base as possible; because, if placed there, our fleet, if it were the more powerful, could do more to injure the enemy's fleet, or prevent its going out, than if placed at any point more distant from the enemy's base; and if it were less powerful, it could do more to cut the enemy's communications, because it could attack them at or near their source. A poor position would be one far away from both countries, and far away from the line joining them. In the case of a war between this country and Norway, for instance, a very poor position for a naval base would be a spot near--say Juan Fernandez--in the south Pacific. In case the enemy country has two home bases of equal importance, the best position for our base clearly would be one equidistant from them, and as near to each as practicable. If the distance from our base to a point half-way between the two bases is shorter than is the distance to it from either base, then a fleet at our base could probably prevent the junction of two forces issuing from those two bases--assuming, of course, that we had a proper system of scouting. Our fleet would be able to operate on what are often called "interior lines"--a technical expression that has great efficacy in confusing a simple matter. It is also assumed that our fleet is considerably stronger than either of the two separated enemy forces; otherwise our case would be hopeless. If the two home bases of the enemy are unequal in importance, it would seem that our base should be nearer to the important base than to the other. More strictly speaking, it should be nearer to the base from which the larger force may be expected to come out. If the enemy country have three or more bases, from which parts of a fleet may be expected to come out, the question seems a little more complex; but nevertheless, since the first duty of our fleet would probably be to prevent junctions or a junction, of the separated parts of the enemy's fleet, the best position for our home base would be at a point about equally distant from them all, and as close to them as possible. In the wars between Great Britain and France in the early part of the nineteenth century, the base of the British fleet for operations on the western and northern coasts of France was as close to the enemy home bases as practicable--though the base was England itself. For operations on France's southern coast, the base was at Gibraltar, or some Mediterranean island. That any country should be able to hold a distant base close to the home base of a possible naval enemy might seem impossible, if we did not know that Great Britain holds Bermuda and Jamaica near to our own coast, and Hong-Kong actually inside of China, all far away from Britain; besides Malta and Gibraltar in the Mediterranean, nearer to the coasts of sometime enemies than to her own. That the United States should own a base far from her own coasts, and near those of other countries, might seem improbable, were it not for the fact that Guam is such a base, and is so situated. It is true that Guam is not strictly a naval base, because it is not so equipped or fortified; but we are thinking now of position only. In case the enemy country has several home bases, and it is impossible to have our distant base so near to them as to prevent the junction of parts of a fleet issuing from them, the value of the base is less than it otherwise would be. In this case, which is the one in which our country is actually concerned, because of its great distance from other countries, its value becomes merely the usual value attaching to a naval base; and the fact that the entire enemy fleet can operate as a unit, that it can divide into separate forces at will near its own shores, or send out detachments to prey on the long line of communications stretching from our distant base to that base's home, necessitates that the base be fortified in the strongest possible way, and provided with large amounts of supplies. Its principal function in war would be to shorten the long trip that our vessels would have to make without refreshment, and therefore the length of their lines of communications, and to enable our vessels to arrive in enemy's waters in better condition of readiness for battle than would otherwise be the case. We have thus far considered the best position for an advanced naval base, in the case of operations against one country only. It seems clear that, if we are to consider operations against two countries separately, and at different times, we should be led to conclude that the case of each country should be decided individually; in the case of wars with Norway and Portugal, for instance, the best places for our two bases would be as close to the home bases of those countries as possible; and even in the case of fighting two simultaneously, the conclusion would be the same, if the two countries were in widely different directions from us--as are Switzerland and China. If we consider the case of war against two contiguous countries simultaneously, however, it would seem better to have one base, situated similarly toward the home bases of the two countries as toward two different home bases in one country--since the two countries would be, in effect, allies; and their fleets would act in reality like separated portions of one fleet. As the United States possesses no island on the Atlantic side which is nearer to foreign countries than to our own, and as our interests for the immediate future lie mostly on the Atlantic side, it may be well now to apply the general principles just considered to the question of where is a naval base most urgently needed under actual conditions. Imagining a war between us and some one European naval Power, and imagining a war also between us and two or three allied European naval Powers, and realizing the length of our Atlantic and Gulf coasts, extending from Maine to Panama, a glance at the map shows us that, apart from the home naval bases on our continental coasts, the position on American soil which is the closest to European bases is on the little island of Culebra, which occupies a salient in the northeastern end of the Caribbean Sea.[*] [Footnote *: The acquisition by the United States of the island of Saint Thomas, about 20 miles east of Culebra, if accomplished, will extend the salient just so much farther toward Europe.] The only reason an enemy would have for entering the Caribbean would be an intention to attack the Panama Canal region, or an intention to establish an advanced base, from which he could conduct more or less deliberate siege of our Atlantic coast and cities. In either case, our fleet would be seriously handicapped if it had no adequate base in the Caribbean; because its line of communications north would be exposed to the enemy's operations at all times; and seriously wounded American ships would have little chance of getting repairs; little chance even of making successfully the long trip to Norfolk or New York. In case the enemy fleet should start from Europe fully prepared in every way, we should be in ignorance of its intended destination; and as the enemy fleet would be stronger than ours (otherwise it would not start) it would doubtless be able to destroy our undefended station at Guantanamo, seize some suitable place in the West Indies, say the Bay of Samana, and then establish a base there, unless we had first seized and fortified all suitable localities; and the United States would then find itself in the anomalous position of being confronted near its own coasts with an enemy fleet well based for war, while her own fleet would not be based at all. Not only would the enemy fleet be superior in power, but it would possess the strategical advantage, though far from its own shores. The situation, therefore, about a month after the foreign fleet left Europe, would be that the Caribbean Sea would contain a hostile fleet which was not only superior to ours in power, but was securely resting on a base; while ours had no base south of Norfolk, the other side of Hatteras. Our fleet would be in a position similar to that of the Russian fleet when it rushed to its destruction in Tsushirna Straits, though not in so great a degree; because it would have had more recent docking and refitting in our home ports, and the personnel would be fresher. In case, however, we had a naval base strongly fortified and thoroughly equipped, at a salient in the Caribbean region, say at Culebra, and if our fleet were based upon it, a hostile fleet, even if it were considerably superior to our own, would hesitate to pass it and enter the Caribbean, by reason of the continuous threat that the fleet would exert on its communications. Even if the hostile fleet should pass Culebra, and establish a base farther on, an American force based on Culebra would continue to exert this threat on the communications between the hostile base and its mother country. An American base--say at Guantanamo--would be very effective in embarrassing hostile operations _west_ of Guantanamo, because it would be on the flank of the line of communications extending from Europe; but it would be comparatively ineffective in embarrassing operations east of it, since the hostile line of communications would be protected from it by the interposition of its own main body; this interposition necessitating the despatch of defending forces around that main body. The coming hostile force would push before it all resistance, and leave the sea free for the passage of its auxiliaries and supplies. A defending force, operating from Guantanamo, in endeavoring to prevent a hostile fleet from establishing a base to the _eastward_ of it, would act much less effectively than a force operating from Culebra. Not only would the force from Guantanamo have to pass around the main body to attack the train; it would again have to pass around the main body to get back to Guantanamo; whereas a force operating from Culebra could make a direct attack upon the enemy's train, and then a direct retreat to Culebra. This comparison assumes, as has been said, that the matter of resources and strength are not in question; that is, that they are equal in our two supposition bases. But, as in practice they would not be equal, the practical point to consider is how much strength and resources can compensate for inferiority of position, and how much position must be insisted on. Of course, no correct quantitative answer can be given, except by accident. The problem, unfortunately, cannot be solved by mathematics, for the simple reason that no quantitative values can be assigned to the various factors, and because no mathematical formula now exists that expresses their relations to each other. It may be pointed out, however, that if a position be good, strength and resources can be artificially supplied; and that the cost of doing this, even on a tremendous scale, is relatively small compared to the cost of the fleet which the base will support, and in distress protect. In other words, we may be able to form an estimate of the relative values of bases, say at Guantanamo and Culebra, even if we cannot ascribe arithmetical values to each, and compare arithmetically those arithmetical values. If, for instance, we see that a fleet costing $500,000,000, would, if it operated from a base at Culebra, be 10 per cent more effective than if it operated from Guantanamo, and that it would cost $20,000,000 more to make a strong base there than to make an equally strong one at Guantanamo, we should conclude that, since 10 per cent of $500,000,000 is $50,000,000, it would be wise to spend that $20,000,000, even if we had to forego the building of one battlesbip. We should come to the same conclusion, if we realized that no matter what their comparative values might be, a base at one place would not meet our necessities, and a base at the other place would. If a base at Guantanamo would not meet our necessities in case of an invasion of the Caribbean by a naval fleet superior to ours, then it seems idle to discuss the value of Guantanamo relative to some other place, no matter how good the position of Guantanamo may be, and no matter how nearly it may approximate to adequacy. There is no real usefulness in having a naval base anywhere, unless that naval base can accomplish the purpose for which it is desired. A naval base is desired for purposes of war, and for no other purpose whatever; and to decide on a position for a base without keeping this fact clearly in view, is to act on an underestimate of the situation, the folly of which has been pointed out in previous pages. We may conclude, then, that in deciding on the place for a distant permanent naval base, on which the operations of a whole fleet are to base for war, we should select the best site available, even if military strength and resources may have to be added to it artificially--unless in the case of any site considered the difficulties of adding them are insuperable. The last sentence may seem like shirking the whole question, because it does not state what "insuperable" means; so it may be well to add that in modern days few engineering difficulties are insuperable, as the existence of the fortress at Heligoland shows. If the submarine and the mine did not exist, the difficulties would be greater than they actually are; because guns alone, no matter how carefully mounted and protected, could hardly be expected to keep off indefinitely the attack of a heavy fleet, or even to save from injury the fighting and auxiliary vessels anchored in its waters. But the submarine and mine combine to keep fighting ships at distances greater than those over which ship's guns can fire, and reduce the amount of fortification required on shore. One of the principal sources of expense in establishing bases at some points would be that of dredging out harbors sufficiently extensive, while harbors sufficiently extensive are provided already by nature in such localities as Samana. But, as pointed out before, harbors on large islands can be taken from the land side, as was Port Arthur; and adequate protection from land attack is, in many cases, almost impossible if the enemy has command of the sea, as a superior hostile fleet would have in the Caribbean; while the hills and waters of Culebra and Vieques Sound could long defy not only actual invasion, but any fleet attack. This brings us face to face with the fact that it may be less expensive to establish and protect a naval base situated on a little island, even if an artificial harbor has to be constructed, than to establish and protect a base on a large island, even if the base on the large island has a large natural harbor and can be more easily defended against bombardment from the sea. It would be cheaper, for instance, to protect a base on Culebra than one at Guantanamo, or even Samana, if the enemy commanded the sea; and cheaper to protect a base on the forbidding rocks of Polillo or Guam than on the large and fertile island of Luzon, with its extensive gulfs and bays, in many of which a fleet in command of the sea could land its force; because protecting a base on a large island would require covering a very large area, and perhaps a long extent of coast. Aircraft may exercise an important influence on the choice of the position of a base, perhaps in the direction of choosing a base on a large island rather than on a small one; since the great speed of aircraft tends to lessen the importance of having the base out a great distance from home--so far as purposes of scouting are concerned. It seems probable also that aircraft will soon be recognized as inherently adapted to preventing the landing of hostile troops, by dropping bombs on the troops, while they are in process of disembarkation, while proceeding in small boats to the shore, and while in the act of landing on the beach, with their guns, ammunition, supplies, horses, and impedimenta of various kinds. _Co-operating Bases_.--Discussion of the relative values of positions for bases, say in the Caribbean, should not blind our eyes to the fact, however, that no nation is prevented from establishing as many bases as it needs, wherever its flag may float; that the United States, for instance, is not debarred from establishing permanent naval bases at both Guantanamo and Culebra, should such a procedure seem desirable. The fact that each locality has advantages that the other does not have, suggests the idea that two bases, placed in those localities, would form a powerful combination. In fact, the great value of the position of Culebra being its distance toward the enemy, which necessitates a great distance away from our continental coast, and a long line of communications from that coast suggest an intermediate base as a support and stepping-stone. Analogous cases are seen in all the countries of Europe, in the fortresses that are behind their boundary-lines--the fortresses existing less as individuals than as supporting members of a comprehensive scheme. Two bases, one at Guantanamo and one at Culebra, would in time of war in the Caribbean, add a value to our fleet that might make the difference between defeat and victory. The effective work that a fleet can do is a function of the material condition of the ships themselves, and of the physical and mental condition of the personnel that man them. Fighting is the most strenuous work that men can do; it calls for the last ounce of strength, the last effort of the intellect, the last struggle of the will; it searches out every physical imperfection in men, in ships, in engines, in joints, in valves. Surprise has sometimes been expressed at the quickness with which the Japanese defeated the Russians at Tsushima; but would any one express surprise if a pugilist, fresh from rest, quickly defeated another pugilist who, exhausted from long travelling, staggered hopelessly into the ring? And how would the betting be before a football match, if it were known that one of the teams would enjoy a rest of twenty-four hours before the game, whereas the other team would walk from the railroad to the ball grounds after a trip across the continent? These analogies may seem forced--but are they? A living animal requires hours of rest and refreshment, in order that the tissues expended in action may be repaired by the internal mechanism of the body, and the food consumed be supplied from some external source. A fleet is in exactly the same category, even when operating in times of peace: and in time of war it needs, in addition, a station in which injuries may be repaired--a station analogous to that of the hospital for wounded men. In the Caribbean it would seem necessary to successful operations, therefore, to have two bases, one say at Guantanamo and one at Culebra; the one at Culebra to be the principal base, and the one at Guantanamo the auxiliary. Culebra, by reason of the great work to be accomplished, and the engineering difficulties to be encountered, cannot be gotten ready for several years. Reliance, meanwhile, will have to be placed on Guantanamo; and as the coming of any war is not usually very long foretold, the urgency of fortifying Guantanamo stands out in clear relief. The mutual relations of Guantanamo and Culebra are much like the mutual relations of Pearl Harbor in Hawaii and Guam--and so are the joint relations of each pair to the mother country. Culebra and Guam are the potential bases of the United States farthest away from the coast in the Atlantic and the Pacific respectively; and the nearest to countries in Europe and Asia with any one of which, of course, war will be always possible, and sometimes probable. Each is a small and rugged island, admitting of tremendous military strengthening by guns, fortifications, mines, and submarines, but connected to the motherland by a long line of communications. The line of communications of Culebra would, of course, be safer than that of Guam, because it is shorter than would be the line of an enemy attacking it; whereas, the line of communications of Guam would be longer. Guantanamo and Pearl Harbor are both stations about half-way from the home country to Culebra and Guam respectively; and though greater danger to our vital and commercial interests exists in the Atlantic than in the Pacific, Pearl Harbor has been fortified, and Guantanamo has not--and neither has Culebra. This sentence is not intended as a criticism of the government for fortifying Pearl Harbor. The Hawaiian Islands occupy the most valuable strategic position in the Pacific, and Pearl Harbor is the most important strategic place in the Hawaiian Islands; and it ought to have been strengthened many years ago, and to a greater degree even than is contemplated now. But the sentence is intended as a protest against our continued inertness in failing to establish any suitable naval bases whatever, especially in the Caribbean. _Distant Base in the Philippines_.--The difficulty of finding suitable positions for bases is exemplified in the Philippines, for no suitable island is to be found there, except some that are within the archipelago itself; and these are so placed that, to reach them, our fleet would have to go through long reaches of water, ideally suited for destroyer and submarine attack. A possible exception is the island of Polillo, twenty miles east of the eastern coast of Luzon; and in many ways Polillo seems ideal. The practical difficulties are so great, however, the status of the islands in our national policy is so ill defined, and the futility of strengthening it, unless Guam be adequately strengthened also, is so apparent, that the question has been hardly even mooted. Polillo made impregnable, with Guam defenseless, supported by an undefended line of communications several thousand miles long to the main country, would in case of war with an active Asiatic power be reduced to the zero of effectiveness in whatever was the length of time in which its accumulated stores would be exhausted. This sentence may be modified by saying that the time might be lengthened by the occasional arrival of supply ships and colliers that might come by way of the Mediterranean, or the Cape of Good Hope, or any other route which approached the Philippines from the southward; and it is possible that, in the unfortunate event of a war between us and some Asiatic power, our relations with European countries might be such as to make the use by us of such routes feasible and safe. In view, however, of the conditions of island possession in the Pacific as they actually are, and because of the rapid and abrupt changes that characterize international relations, the probability of being able to use such routes seems too small to receive grave consideration. _Other Bases in the Pacific_.--The Pacific Ocean is so vast, and the interests of the United States there will some day be so great, that the question of establishing naval bases, in addition to bases at Pearl Harbor, the Philippines, and Guam, will soon demand attention. The localities that are the most obvious are the Panama Canal Zone and the Samoan Islands in the south, and the Aleutian Islands in the north. A moderately far-seeing policy regarding the Pacific, and a moderately far-seeing strategy for carrying out the policy, would dictate the establishment and adequate protection of bases in both the southern and the northern regions; so that our fleet could operate without undue handicap over the long distances required. The same principles that govern the selection of positions and the establishment of bases in the Atlantic apply in the Pacific; the same requirements that a base shall be near where the fleet will conduct its operations--no matter whether those operations be offensive or defensive, no matter whether they concern direct attack or a threat against communications. * * * * * In view of the great value of naval bases, one may be pardoned perhaps for a feeling of surprise that the United States has no real naval base, home or distant. Our large navy-yards are our nearest approximation to real bases. The yards at Norfolk and Bremerton seem to combine the three factors of position, strength, and resources better than do any other stations; though both are surpassed in resources by New York, Philadelphia, and Boston. Bremerton has the greatest natural military strength of all our stations; in fact, it is naturally very strong indeed, because of the length and nature of the waterway leading to it from the sea and the ease with which it could be denied. Norfolk is fortunate in its nearness to Chesapeake Bay and Lynn Haven Roads, and the ease with which the entrance to the Chesapeake from seaward could be defended; but the fact that it is only 18 miles from the Atlantic coast-line makes it more vulnerable than Bremerton to the attack of troops landed by an enemy fleet. The yard at Mare Island, near San Francisco, is faultily placed as regards deep water; but dredging could rectify this. The Panama Canal Zone has great facilities for repairs, docking, and supplies; but it must be adequately fortified in order to be a trustworthy base in the case of operations in its vicinity. New York, by reason of its enormous wealth of every kind, its steamer terminals, and its excessively vulnerable position, within gunshot of ships out in the deep water (a position without parallel in the large cities of the world) must, of course, be protected. The cheapest way to protect it is to do so locally, by means of fortifications, and other shore defenses. The only other means would be by a fleet permanently kept near New York, a measure that would be expensive beyond reason. In case the enemy should inform us that he would reach the vicinity of New York at a certain time, and in case he should fulfil his promise, the fact that New York was properly strengthened would not be very important; since our fleet would go there, and the whole war would be settled by one "stand-up fight." But wars are not so conducted and never have been. From the oldest times till now, and even among savage tribes, finesse has always been employed, in addition to actual force--more perhaps by the weaker than by the stronger side, but very considerably also by the stronger. A coming enemy would endeavor to keep his objective a close secret, and even to mislead us; so that our fleet would have to take a position out at sea, perhaps far away, which would leave our bases open to attack by the enemy fleet or at least exposed to raids. The most effective local defense of a naval base is a combination of mine-fields and heavy guns, which also give protection to which the wounded vessels can retire, as the German vessels did after the North Sea battle. Unless such protection be provided, swift destroyers can complete the work that guns began, as the Japanese destroyers did, after the artillery battle at Tsushima. In addition to their value in defending navy-yards from raids, and in giving wounded ships a refuge, the military strengthening of home bases, if such home bases are wisely placed near large commercial centres, prevents actual destruction of those commercial centres themselves, in case an attack is made upon them, either in the absence of the defending fleet, or after that fleet may have been destroyed. The line of engineering advance during recent years, although it has greatly increased the offensive power of war-ships, has increased even more greatly the defensive power of land works. For this reason, it is perfectly possible to defend successfully almost any land position against attack by ships; and it is so easy, that not to do so, is, in the case of large commercial centres, a neglectfulness of the extremest character. One important reason, therefore, for placing a permanent home base near a large commercial centre is the fact that the fortification of one is also the fortification of the other. Assuming that New York is to be defended locally, we can state at once that the New York naval station can easily be made to be a permanent naval base of the highest order, and of the most efficient type. In fact, it can be made into a naval base better than any other now in the world, because of the large sheets of water tributary to it in New York Bay, Hudson River, and Long Island Sound; the proximity of the sea; the untold resources in money, supplies, and men that it could on demand produce, and the ease with which it could be defended. To make such a base, it would be necessary to fortify the vicinity of Coney Island and the entrances from the ocean to the Lower Bay, and Long Island Sound; to deepen the channel to the navy-yard, and to make clear and safe the waterway from the East River to Long Island Sound. It would be necessary also to enlarge the navy-yard; and to this end, to buy back the land adjoining it, which the government most unwisely sold to private parties about twenty-five years ago. Owing to the position of Block Island, relatively to the lines of communication of a hostile force coming from Europe to attack our eastern coast, and because of the sheltered waters held within it, suitable for small craft, the advisability of establishing a small naval base there is apparent. With a suitable base there and another on Martha's Vineyard, and the present canal from Massachusetts Bay to Buzzards Bay sufficiently enlarged, the whole coast from Boston to New York, including Narragansett Bay, could be made to form one naval base which would have three exits. Our own ships could pass from one point to another, and concentrate at will near Sandy Hook, Block Island, or Massachusetts Bay; and, which is equally important, the establishment of an enemy base near New York would be made almost, if not quite, impossible. In case of an attack on our eastern coast, made directly from Europe, which could be accomplished easily during the calm months of the summer, the degree of efficiency shown by the bases at Norfolk, Philadelphia, New York, and Boston would influence vitally the condition in which our fleet would go to battle. Owing to the traditional policy, or rather lack of policy, of the United States, and the consequent unreadiness of our preparations, we may reasonably assume that war will find us in such a condition that the utmost haste will be necessary to get our whole naval force out to sea in time to prevent the enemy from making an actual bombardment of our shores. We have no reason to suppose that the ships actually cruising in our active fleet will not be ready; we have every reason to believe that they will be ready. But it is inconceivable that we should not try to oppose such an attack with all the naval force that we could muster; which means that we should try to send out many ships from our home bases to join the active fleet at sea. The ease with which the passage of an enemy's fleet up the Delaware or Chesapeake could be prevented, in case any means of national defense whatever be attempted, compared with the difficulty of defending New York, and combined with the greater damage that an enemy could inflict on New York, mark the vicinity of New York as the probable objective of any determined naval attack upon our coast; no matter whether that attack be made directly from Europe, or indirectly from Europe by way of the Caribbean. To meet such an attack, various parts of the fleet would have to issue from their bases; even parts of the active fleet would probably have had to go to their home ports for some needed repairs or supplies. The first thought of an attacking fleet would naturally be to prevent our ships from getting out, as it was the thought of Nelson and other British commanders to prevent the issuing of forces from the ports of France. But in view of the great distance from Europe to our coast, and the impossibility of preventing the knowledge reaching us of the departure of the fleet (unless indeed all the powers of Europe combined to prevent it), it seems probable that no such issuing could be prevented, and that a very considerable American force would have time to take its station out at sea, prepared to meet the coming foe. The home bases if properly prepared would exert a powerful effect on a battle near them by equipping the fleet adequately and promptly, and also by preventing a possible defeat from becoming a disaster, by receiving wounded ships before they sank. The wounded ships of the enemy, on the other hand, would have no base near by, and only those inconsiderably injured could probably be gotten home. CHAPTER XII OPERATING THE MACHINE The naval machine, including the various vessels of all kinds, the bases and the personnel, having been designed, put together, and prepared for its appointed task of conducting war, and the appointed task having at last been laid upon it, how shall the machine be operated--how shall it be made successfully to perform its task? In order to answer this correctly, we must first see clearly what is its task. _War_.--War may be said to be the act of two nations or two sets of nations, by means of which each tries to get its way by physical force. The peaceful methods of diplomacy having been exhausted, arguments and threats having been tried in vain, both parties resort to the oldest and yet the latest court; the same court as that to which resort the lions of the desert, the big and little fishes of the sea, the fowls of the air, and even the blades of grass that battle for the sunshine. The vastness of the issue decided by war, the fact that from its decision there is no appeal, the greatness of the forces that nations can produce, the length of experience of war extending through 8,000 wars, and during more than three thousand years of recorded history, the enormous literature of the subject, and the fact that more brain power, energy, and character have been devoted to war than to any other fruit of man's endeavor--combine to give to the conduct of war an importance that no other subject can possess. The thing that each side brings forward against the other side is force; "that which moves or tends to move matter." In all ages, it has been directed primarily against the physical bodies of individual men, threatening each individual man with suffering and death. It appeals to the primal instinct of men, self-preservation, and is the _ultima ratio regum_, the last argument of kings--and not only of kings, but of all other living things as well. The first feeling aroused by the threat against life, or physical well-being, is fear; and, therefore, the first force with which to oppose the threat is a force of the same spiritual nature as fear, but opposite in direction. This force is called in the English language "courage." Without courage every man and every nation would be at the mercy of every man or nation that made a threat against it. The inherent necessity for courage is thus apparent; and the reason is therefore apparent, for the fact that in every nation and tribe physical courage has been esteemed the greatest virtue in a man. In Latin, we know, the word _virtus_ meant courage, and also virtue--showing that the Romans held the two qualities to be identical or similar. In discussing the operations of war, little is usually said of courage. The reason, however, is not that its value is unrecognized, but that its existence is assumed; in the same way as that in which all the other faculties among the men are assumed, such as physical health, ability to march, etc. Movements to inspire fear, however, actions to break down the morale, are of frequent use; because, if the morale of the opposing side is broken down, its power of resistance is destroyed. In the operations, therefore, of two contending parties, force is opposed by force. If the forces on both sides could be concentrated at a single point, and exerted in opposite directions, the result would be decided in an instant. Such an arrangement has never yet been brought about; though fairly close approximations have been made, when two parties have selected two champions who have fought for them--the victory going by agreement to the side whose champion became the victor. Barring such rare occasions, contests in war have usually been between two forces spread over considerable areas of land or water; and the contest has usually been decided by the defeat of one of the two. If in any individual combat, all the forces possessed by both sides had been engaged, and if either force had been annihilated, the entire war between the two parties would have been decided. This was nearly the case in the naval battle off Tsushima between the Russian and Japanese fleets--and the treaty of peace was signed soon after. Usually, however, neither party to the quarrel has had all its forces on the field in any one battle, and neither force in the battle has been annihilated. Usually, only partial forces have been engaged, and only partial victories have been won; with the result that wars between contending nations have usually consisted of a series of battles, with intervals of rest between. If two opposing forces in any battle were exactly equal in fighting power, neither side in any battle would gain a victory, the two sides would inflict identical amounts of damage on each other, and the two sides would end the battle still equal in force. At rare intervals, such conditions have been approximated; but usually one side has had more fighting power than the other, and has inflicted more damage of various kinds than it has received, with the result that it attained an advantage more or less important over the other, and with the further result that the original disproportion between the two forces was increased. The increase may not necessarily have been due to a greater number of killed and wounded or even to a greater loss of material, such as guns or ships; there may have been no increase in inequality in either of these ways, for the increase in inequality may have consisted in the fact that the weaker force was driven to a position less advantageous to it for conducting operations in the future. But whatever the nature of the advantage gained by the stronger side, the result has been that the weaker side has come out of the battle relatively weaker than it was before. For this reason, it is highly desirable to each side to win each battle. This does not mean that the loss of any one battle by either party to a war means that the party losing that battle will necessarily lose the war; for many battles may be fought by such small portions of the whole nations' forces, or be lost by such small margins that the loss of one battle, or even several battles, may be retrieved; in fact, in few wars have the victories been all on one side. It does mean, however, that each lost battle is a backward step; and that for this reason the effort must be that no battle shall be lost. _Strategy and Tactics_.--Now, to win battles, two things combine, strategy and tactics. The strategy of each side tries to arrange matters so that the forces on its side shall enter each battle with the greatest chance of victory; tactics tries to handle the forces with which it enters a battle in such a way that its side shall gain the victory. Strategy prepares for battles; tactics fights them. The tactics of any battle must be in the hands of the commanders-in-chief on both sides. Any other arrangement is inconceivable; but the strategy controlling the series of battles in any war cannot now be committed to them solely; though it was usually committed to them until lately. In the days when Alexander went to war, or even when Napoleon and Nelson went to war, twenty-one centuries later, no telegraph by sea and land made swift communication possible; and the commanders on the spot were the only ones in possession of enough information about the contending forces to decide what measures should be taken. Even in those days, however, the capitals of the countries engaged in war, by reason of their knowledge of what was passing in the way of policy, exerted an influence on the strategy of the forces on both sea and land; Cæsar, for instance, was embarrassed in many of his operations by the Roman Senate, and it was for this reason that he crossed the Rubicon and passed from Gaul into Italy. When William I and Napoleon III went to war in 1870, however, Von Moltke had foreseen the effects of the telegraph and of rapid-mail communications, in giving to the headquarters of the army information of a much greater scope and reliability than had previously been the case, and had established a General Staff which had elaborated plans whereby not only would the commanders-in-chief in the field have the assistance of information compiled at headquarters, but whereby the general nature of the operations of a war, especially those operations at the outset on which the future conduct of the war would largely depend, would be decided and laid down in advance and during times of peace. The reason for the rapid victory of the Prussians over the French in 1870 was that the Prussians were better prepared in almost every way; especially in the most important thing--the war plans. Now, these war plans could not, of course, be of such a kind that they would foresee every contingency and prescribe the conduct to be followed, so that a commander in the field could turn to page 221 of volume 755, and get directions as to what he ought to do; nor could they furnish the chief of staff, Von Moltke, with printed recommendations which he should offer to the King. In other words, the war plans could be only plans and, like all plans for future action, could be only tentative, and capable of being modified by events as they should come to pass. They were only plans of preparation, not plans of operation. Yet there were plans of preparation for operations; plans prepared in accordance with the principles of strategy, and based on information as to the enemy's resources, skill, point of view, and probable intentions. They formed the general guide for future operations. Since 1870, the invention and practical development of the wireless telegraph, and especially its development for use over very great distances, has modified the relations of commanders on the spot to home headquarters, and especially of naval commanders to their navy departments. The wireless telegraph, under circumstances in which it operates successfully, annihilates distance so far as communication is concerned, though it does not annihilate distance so far as transportation is concerned. It improves the sending and receiving of news and instructions, both for the commander at sea and for his department at home; but it does it more effectively for the department than for the man at sea, because of the superior facilities for large and numerous apparatus that shore stations have, and their greater freedom from interruptions of all kinds. This condition tends to place the strategical handling of all the naval machine, including the active fleet itself, more in the hands of the department or admiralty, and less in the hands of the commander-in-chief: and this tendency is confirmed by the superior means for discussion and reflection, and for trial by war games, that exist in admiralties, compared with those that exist in ships. The general result is to limit the commander-in-chief more and more in strategical matters: to confine his work more and more to tactics. Such a condition seems reasonable in many ways. The government decides on a policy, and tells the Navy Department to carry it out, employing the executive offices and bureaus to that end, under the guidance of strategy. Strategy devotes itself during peace to designing and preparing the naval machine, and in war to operating it, utilizing both in war and peace the bureaus and offices and the fleet itself. And in the same way as that in which the bureaus and offices perform the calculations and executive functions of logistics, for furnishing the necessary material of all kinds, the fleet performs those of tactics. From this point of view, strategy plans and guides all the acts of navies, delegating one part of the practical work needed to carry out those plans to logistics, and the other part to tactics. Operating the naval machine in war means practically operating the active fleet in such a way as to cause victories to occur, to cause the fleet to enter each battle under as favorable conditions as practicable, and to operate the other activities of the navy in such a way that the fleet will be efficiently and promptly supplied with all its needs. Strategy employs tactics and logistics to bring these things to pass; but this does not mean that strategy stands apart and simply gives logistics and tactics tasks to do. The three agencies are too mutually dependent for any such procedure and require for their successful working, both individually and together, the most thorough mutual understanding and support. _Flanking, T-ing, etc._--It being a fact that no nation can put a force upon the sea that is concentrated at one point; it being a fact that every naval force must be spread over a considerable area and made up of various parts, and that the efficacy of the various parts in exerting force upon a definite enemy depends on the unity of action of the various parts, it results that the most effective way in which to attack any naval force is not to attack all the parts at once, thus enabling all to reply, but to attack the force in such a way that all the parts cannot reply. If we attack a ship for instance, that can fire 10 guns on a broadside and only 4 guns ahead, it is clear that we can do better by attacking from ahead than from either side. Similarly, if 10 ships are in a column, steaming one behind the other, each ship being able to fire 10 guns from either side and only 4 ahead, the 10 ships can fire 100 guns on either side and only 4 ahead; and therefore it would be better to attack the column from ahead (to "T" it), than to attack it from either side. It is curious to note how widely this simple illustration can be made to apply to both strategy and tactics; how the effort of each is to dispose our force so toward the enemy's force that we can use our weapons more effectively than he can use his. An extreme illustration might be made by imagining 1,000 soldiers standing in line and unable to face except to the front; in which case it is clear that, no matter how perfectly they might be armed, or how quickly and accurately they could fire, one man standing on the flank, or behind them, could kill one soldier after the other, until all the 1,000 were killed, and be in no danger himself. In case of attacking a ship or a column of ships from ahead, or of attacking a line of soldiers on the flank, the effectiveness of the method of attack lies in the fact that a number of the weapons that are present in the force attacked cannot be used in reply. [Illustration: Fig. 1] _Concentration and Isolation_.--The value of "concentration" is often insisted on, but the author desires to call attention to a misunderstanding on this point, to which he called attention in an essay in 1905. To the author, it seems that concentration is a means and not an end, and that the end is what he called "isolation" in the essay. If a man concentrates his mind on any subject, the advantage he gains is that he prevents other subjects from obstructing the application of his mental powers to that subject; he pushes to one side and isolates all other subjects. In this particular activity it does not matter whether we call his act "concentration" or "isolation" because the whole operation goes on inside of his own skull, and concentration on one subject automatically produces isolation or elimination of all others. But when concentration is attempted on external objects, the case is very different, for concentration may not produce isolation at all. For instance, if 4 ships in column _A_ concentrate their fire on the leading ship in column _B_, the other 3 ships in column _B_ are not isolated, and can fire on the ships of column _A_, even more effectively than if column _A_ was not concentrated on the leading ship of _B_, because they are undisturbed by being fired at. If, however, the 4 ships of _A_ "flank" or "T" the ships of column _B_, as shown in Fig. 2, and concentrate on the leader of B, they thereby isolate the other ships, and practically nullify their ability to fire at _A_. [Illustration: Fig. 2] This effect is approximated by an approximate "T-ing" or "flanking," such as is shown in Fig. 3; because the average distance from the ships of _A_ to the leading ship in _B_ is less than the average distance from the ships in _B_ to any ship in _A_; and because the direction of fire from each ship in _A_ is more nearly abeam than is the direction of fire from the ships of _B_. These positions are very difficult to gain, even if _A_'s speed is considerably greater than _B's_; since all _B_ has to do to prevent it is to head to the right, unless shoals or other dangers such as enemy battleships, _C_, are on that side, co-operating with _A_. [Illustration: Fig. 3] An interesting position is that shown in Fig. 4, which may be assumed by _A_, either for flight, or to get the advantage in torpedo fire. The advantage is that the _A_ ships are running away from torpedoes fired by _B_, while _B_ is running into torpedoes fired by _A_. This advantage is not great if the distance between _A_ and _B_ is so little that _B's_ torpedoes can reach _A_. But if _A_ is able to make this distance equal to the entire range over which _B's_ torpedoes can run, or near it, _B's_ torpedoes cannot reach _A_ at all. [Illustration: Fig. 4] A similar advantage, though in a modified degree, is that shown as possessed by _A_ in Fig. 5. Due to the direction of movement of the _A_ and _B_ fleets, it is easier for _A's_ torpedoes to reach _B_, than for _B's_ torpedoes to reach _A_. [Illustration: Fig. 5] Positions of advantage are usually gained by superior speed. One of the main reasons for the development of the battle cruiser has been the fact that her high speed and great offensive power enable her to gain positions of advantage and utilize them. The _A_ positions shown in the figures are attainable by battle cruisers against battleships, and are very effective. A procedure analogous to that of flanking is one in which part of a force is attacked when it is separated from the rest of the force, and cannot be supported by it--in that some of the weapons of one force cannot be used. The effect is similar in the two cases, but the events leading up to the two conditions may be quite different. In the former case, that of being flanked, or T'd, the force caught at a disadvantage was together, and was able to operate effectively as one force against a force located in a given direction; but was attacked by a force located in another direction; while in the latter case, the force was divided, and one part was caught, while distant from and entirely unsupported by the other part. The former condition is more likely to result from tactical operations, and the latter from strategical operations--and yet, especially in land operations, the flanking of one force may be brought about by the carefully planned strategical combinations of the other force; and catching one part of the enemy's force unsupported by the other parts may take place during the tactical maneuvers of an actual or a simulated battle. In naval operations, the catching of separated parts of an enemy's force is a more frequent attempt and accomplishment than is that of getting a position where a column of ships can be attacked from ahead or astern. It seldom happens, with the great number of vessels of all kinds which compose a modern fleet, that it is practicable to keep the various parts together, or that it would be desirable to do so. The closest approximation to keeping a large naval force together, is keeping them in column; because in that formation, the ships can be made simply to "follow the leader" without signal, and act like one long, flexible body. But the vessels of a modern fleet would make a column many miles long--a column of 20 battleships alone would be 5 miles long, and the addition of the various cruisers, destroyers, and other vessels, would make a column so long that it would be unwieldy; and if its ends were attacked, the other vessels could not come to their relief. Besides, the duties of battleships, battle cruisers, scouts, destroyers, and submarines, are distinct--with the result that, as in land operations, bodies of the various types operate separately and apart from those of other types. Not only, also, do the various types operate separately, but often the necessities of a case demand that a certain number--say of battleships--be sent away from the main body on some mission; or that a certain number of destroyers be sent away from the main body of destroyers. Any such diversion entails a danger that is sometimes great, and sometimes small; but such diversions and risks cannot be avoided, and should not be avoided when they are necessary, any more than a man should avoid going out of doors, though that act always entails some danger. Suppose, for instance, that in the operations of a war carried on in the Caribbean, the Navy Department should get trustworthy information that the enemy had detailed 3 battle cruisers to speed north and bombard New York. The department would probably have to detach a force from the fleet and send it north, to prevent the bombardment. Yet not only would the force so sent be in danger until it returned of an attack by a superior force, but the main body from which it was detached would be thereby weakened; furthermore, the information might have been incorrect--it might have been originated and given out by the enemy, in the hope that it would cause such a diversion of force. Every operation in war entails a risk more or less great; and if no risks were to be taken, it would be better not to go to war. It is true that some wars have been undertaken in which the preponderance of force was so great that there was very little doubt of the actual outcome, and very little risk taken by one of the two parties. Such wars, however, have been very few; and they were hardly wars in the usual sense, any more than the beating of a little boy by a big boy could properly be called a "fight." Reference may again be made here to Table I on next page, which shows the way in which fights between unequal forces proceed, and the advantage of fighting the separated parts of an enemy rather than the united force. We can see this clearly if we note that, if two forces each aggregating 1,000 were in each other's vicinity, and if the entire force _A_ was able to engage half of _B_, or 500, it would whip half of _B_, and have 841 remaining, with which to engage the other half (500) of _B_. Reference to the end of the third period in this table shows also that if a force of 789 engages a force of 523, it will have 569 left, after the other has been reduced to zero. So, a force of 1,000 that engages two forces of 500 separately, will have more than 500 left, after the others have both been reduced to zero: whereas, if it engages both, when they are united, both sides will be gradually reduced to zero, remaining equal all the time. TABLE I ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- | |Col.|Col.|Col.|Col.|Col.|Col.|Col.|Col.|Col.|Col.| | | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | |----------------------------------------------------------------------------| |Value of offensive power A|1000|1000|1000|1000|1000|1000|1000|1000|1000|1000| | at beginning B|1000| 900| 800| 700| 600| 500| 400| 300| 200| 100| |Damage done in 1st A| 100| 100| 100| 100| 100| 100| 100| 100| 100| 100| | period B| 100| 90| 80| 70| 60| 50| 40| 30| 20| 10| |Value of offensive power A| 900| 910| 920| 930| 940| 950| 960| 970| 980| 990| | at end of 1st period B| 900| 800| 700| 600| 500| 400| 300| 200| 100| 0| |Damage done in 2nd A| 90| 91| 92| 93| 94| 95| 96| 97| 98| | | period B| 90| 80| 70| 60| 50| 40| 30| 20| 10| | |Value of offensive power A| 810| 830| 850| 870| 890| 910| 930| 950| 970| | | at end of 2nd period B| 810| 709| 608| 507| 406| 305| 204| 103| 2| | |Damage done in 3rd A| 81| 83| 85| 87| 89| 91| 93| 95| | | | period B| 81| 71| 61| 51| 41| 31| 20| 10| | | |Value of offensive power A| 729| 759| 789| 819| 849| 879| 910| 940| | | | at end of 3rd period B| 729| 626| 523| 420| 317| 214| 111| 8| | | |Damage done in 4th A| 73| 76| 79| 82| 85| 88| 91| | | | | period B| 73| 63| 52| 42| 32| 21| 11| | | | |Value of offensive power A| 656| 696| 737| 777| 817| 858| 899| | | | | at end of 4th period B| 656| 550| 444| 338| 232| 126| 20| | | | |Damage done in 5th A| 65| 70| 74| 78| 82| 86| | | | | | period B| 65| 55| 44| 34| 23| 13| | | | | |Value of offensive power A| 591| 641| 693| 743| 794| 845| | | | | | at end of 5th period B| 591| 480| 370| 260| 150| 40| | | | | |Damage done in 6th A| 59| 64| 69| 74| 79| 85| | | | | | period B| 59| 48| 37| 26| 15| 4| | | | | |Value of offensive power A| 532| 593| 656| 717| 779| 841| | | | | | at end of 6th period B| 532| 416| 301| 186| 71| 0| | | | | |Damage done in 7th A| 53| 59| 66| 72| 78| | | | | | | period B| 53| 42| 30| 19| 7| | | | | | |Value of offensive power A| 479| 551| 626| 698| 772| | | | | | | at end of 7th period B| 479| 357| 235| 114| 0| | | | | | |Damage done in 8th A| 48| 55| 63| 70| | | | | | | | period B| 48| 36| 24| 11| | | | | | | |Value of offensive power A| 431| 515| 602| 687| | | | | | | | at end of 8th period B| 431| 302| 172| 44| | | | | | | |Damage done in 9th A| 43| 52| 60| 69| | | | | | | | period B| 43| 30| 17| 4| | | | | | | |Value of offensive power A| 388| 485| 585| 683| | | | | | | | at end of 9th period B| 388| 250| 112| 0| | | | | | | |Damage done in 10th A| 39| 49| 59| | | | | | | | | period B| 39| 25| 11| | | | | | | | |Value of offensive power A| 349| 460| 574| | | | | | | | | at end of 10th period B| 349| 201| 53| | | | | | | | |Damage done in 11th A| 35| 46| 57| | | | | | | | | period B| 35| 20| 5| | | | | | | | |Value of offensive power A| 314| 440| 569| | | | | | | | | at end of 11th period B| 314| 155| 0| | | | | | | | |Damage done in 12th A| 31| 44| | | | | | | | | | period B| 31| 16| | | | | | | | | |Value of offensive power A| 283| 426| | | | | | | | | | at end of 12th period B| 283| 111| | | | | | | | | | | |etc.| | | | | | | | | |Total damage done by A| 717| 789| 800| 700| 600| 500| 400| 300| 200| 100| | B| 717| 574| 431| 317| 228| 159| 101| 60| 30| 10| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- It is interesting to note how this simple fact is the key to most of the operations of strategy and tactics; how--the mechanical tools in the way of ships and guns and torpedoes having been supplied--the key to their successful use is simply to take advantage of all opportunities of isolating one part of the enemy's force from the rest, and then attacking one of the parts with a force superior to it. Opportunities lacking, one must, of course, try to create opportunities by inducing the enemy to detach some part of his force, under circumstances such that you can attack it, or the weakened main body, with a superior force. Naturally, one must try to prevent a similar procedure by the enemy. This does not mean that the sole effort of naval operations is finesse in either strategy or tactics; sometimes the sole effort is to force a pitched battle by the side that feels superior, and to avoid a pitched battle by the side that feels inferior. Before the actual inferiority or superiority has been ascertained, however, the strategy of each commander is to bring about a situation in which his force shall have the advantage. The advantage having been gained and recognized (or an advantage existing and being recognized), strategy insists on forcing a battle, for the reason that _every contest weakens the loser more than it does the winner_. This does not mean that it is always wise to engage a weaker force that is temporarily separated from its main body. It is readily understandable, for instance, that it would be unwise in two cases: 1. A case in which the weaker force were so little weaker, and were part of a force so much larger than the total of the smaller force, that the gain as between the two forces actually engaged would not be great enough to compensate for the loss entailed. For instance, a reference to Table I shows that an _A_ force of 1,000 engaging a _B_ force of 800 would have 569 left when _B_ was reduced to zero. This is impressive: but if the _B_ force of 800 were part of a total _B_ force of 2,000, in other words if there were an _A_ force of 1,200 near at hand, _B_ would have 569 left with which to oppose 1,200, a proportion a little less advantageous than the proportion he started with--1,000 to 2,000. 2. A case by which the _B_ force may have divided with the express purpose of luring _A_ to attack; arrangements having been made whereby the inferior _B_ force would simply hold the _A_ force until the whole _B_ force could come to its assistance; arrangements having been also made that this would be accomplished before the detached part of _B_ should get very badly damaged. Attention is invited to Table III, which is a continuation of Table I. It represents what would happen if a force of 1,000 should fight separately two forces, one of 800 and the other of 200. In column 1, _A_ is supposed to have engaged the 200 first, and so to have become reduced to 970, and to engage 800 afterward. In column 2, _A_ is supposed to have engaged 800 first, thereby becoming reduced to 569, and then to engage the 200 force. The table indicates that it makes no difference whether _A_ engages the stronger or the weaker force first. Column 3 shows that a force of 841, the part remaining after a force of 1,000 had annihilated a force of 500, would have 653 left after annihilating a second force of 500. Taken in connection with columns 1 and 2, this indicates that it is easier to defeat two separated _equal_ forces than two separated _unequal_ forces of the same aggregate value; that the weakest way in which to divide a force is into _equal_ parts. This fact is mathematically demonstrated by Mr. F. W. Lanchester in a recent book called "Air Craft in Warfare." TABLE III ------------------------------------------------------------------- | |Col. 1|Col. 2|Col. 3| |---------------------------------------------|------|------|------| |Value of offensive at beginning A| 970 | 569 | 841 | | B| 800 | 200 | 500 | |Damage done in 1st period by A| 97 | 57 | 84 | | B| 80 | 20 | 50 | |Value of offensive power at end 1st period A| 890 | 549 | 791 | | B| 703 | 143 | 416 | |Damage done in 2d period by A| 89 | 55 | 79 | | B| 70 | 14 | 42 | |Value of offensive power at end 2d period A| 820 | 535 | 749 | | B| 614 | 88 | 337 | |Damage done in 3d period by A| 82 | 54 | 75 | | B| 61 | 0 | 34 | |Value of offensive power at end 3d period A| 759 | 526 | 715 | | B| 532 | 32 | 262 | |Damage done in 4th period by A| 76 | 53 | 72 | | B| 53 | 3 | 26 | |Value of offensive power at end 4th period A| 706 | 523 | 689 | | B| 456 | 0 | 190 | |Damage done in 5th period by A| 71 | | 69 | | B| 46 | | 10 | |Value of offensive power at end 5th period A| 660 | | 670 | | B| 385 | | 121 | |Damage done in 6th period by A| 66 | | 67 | | B| 39 | | 12 | |Value of offensive power at end 6th period A| 621 | | 658 | | B| 319 | | 54 | |Damage done in 7th period by A| 62 | | 66 | | B| 32 | | 5 | |Value of offensive power at end 7th period A| 589 | | 653 | | B| 257 | | 0 | |Damage done in 8th period by A| 59 | | | | B| 26 | | | |Value of offensive power at end 8th period A| 563 | | | | B| 198 | | | |Damage done in 9th period by A| 56 | | | | B| 20 | | | |Value of offensive power at end 9th period A| 543 | | | | B| 142 | | | |Damage done in 10th period by A| 54 | | | | B| 14 | | | |Value of offensive power at end 10th period A| 529 | | | | B| 88 | | | |Damage done in 11th period by A| 53 | | | | B| 9 | | | |Value of offensive power at end 11th period A| 520 | | | | B| 35 | | | |Damage done in 12th period by A| 52 | | | | B| 4 | | | |Value of offensive power at end 12th period A| 516 | | | | B| 0 | | | ------------------------------------------------------------------ The main advantage of superior speed in naval operations is the ability it gives to secure tactical positions of advantage, and to make desirable strategic dispositions; ability, for instance, to T or flank an enemy force, and to prevent the enemy from T-ing or flanking; also to catch separated parts of an enemy fleet before they can unite, while retaining the ability to divide one's own force without undue risk. For these purposes, speed is an element of the highest value; but the high price that it costs in gun power or armor protection--or both--and the fact that speed cannot always be counted on by reason of possible engine breakdowns and foul bottoms, result in giving to war-ships a lower speed than otherwise they would have. Owing to the fact that, for any given horse-power put into a ship, the speed attainable increases with her length; and owing to the further fact that the weight that any ship can carry increases more rapidly than the displacement (weight of the ship complete), the best combination of gun power, armor protection, and speed is attainable in the largest ship. In other words, the larger the ship, the more power it can carry in proportion to its size, and the more quickly that power can be placed where it can do the most good. _Strategic Operations_.--These may be divided into two classes, offensive and defensive. The two classes are distinct; and yet there is no sharp dividing-line between them any more than there is between two contiguous colors in the spectrum. Defensive operations of the kind described by a popular interpretation of the word "defense" would be operations limited to warding off or escaping the enemy's attack, and would be just as efficacious as the passive warding off of the blows of fists. Such a defense can never succeed, for the reason that the recipient is reduced progressively in power of resistance as the attacks follow each other, while the attacker remains in unimpaired vigor, except for the gently depressing influence of fatigue. Reference to Table I will render this point clear, if we make the progressive reductions of the power of one contestant, and no reductions of the power of the other contestant. Defensive operations, therefore, include "hitting back"; that is, a certain measure of offensive operations, intended to weaken the ability of the enemy to do damage. In fact, no operations are more aggressively offensive, or more productive of damage to the enemy's personnel and material, than operations that are carried on in order to defend something. No animal is so aggressively belligerent as a female "defending" her young. Offensive and defensive operations are nevertheless quite different, especially in two particulars, one being the use of the initiative or attack, and the other the distance to the home. In offensive operations, the attack is made; in defensive operations, the attack is resisted; and even if the resistance takes an aggressive character, and drives the original attacker back to the place he started from, yet the side which has made the original attack has carried on offensive operations, and the other side defensive. Offensive operations are, as a rule, carried on farther from home than defensive operations. If _A_ is carrying on offensive operations against _B_, _A_ is usually farther away from his home than _B_ is from his home. We see from this that the offensive has the advantage of the initiative, of making an attack for which the enemy may be unprepared, and has the disadvantage of being far from its home bases; whereas the defensive has the disadvantage of not knowing when or where or whence an attack is to come, and the advantage of the support of various kinds given by home bases. In other words, the offensive has the advantage except in so far as it is impaired by unfavorable conditions. For this reason, every military nation at the outset of war desires to be able to assume the offensive; and only refrains from the offensive from motives of prudence or because, in a particular case, the distance between the adversaries is so great, that the lack of bases would be of greater weight than the advantage of the initiative--or because the situations of the contending parties would be such that the side accepting the defensive rôle and staying near home, might be able to carry on aggressive attacks better than could the other. An illustration of a mistake in taking the offensive, and the wisdom of the other side in accepting the defensive, may be seen in Napoleon's expedition against Russia; for the Russians were able to repel his attack completely, and then to assume a terrible offensive against his retreating, disorganized, and starving army. Another illustration was the expedition made by a weak Spanish fleet under Cervera to the Caribbean in 1898. Another illustration was that of the Russians in the war of 1904; the practical disadvantages under which the Russian fleet operated at Tsushima were too great to be balanced by the advantage of the attack; especially as the situation was such that the Japanese were able to foretell with enough accuracy for practical purposes the place where the attack would be delivered, and the time. Operations on the sea, like operations on the land, consist in opposing force to force, in making thrusts and making parries. If two men or two ships contend in a duel, or if two parallel columns--say of ten ships each--are drawn up abreast each other, the result will depend mainly on the hitting and enduring powers of the combatants; the conditions of the "stand-up fight" are realized, and there is little opportunity for strategy to exert itself. But if any country--say the United States--finds herself involved in war with--say a powerful naval Power or Powers of Europe, and the realization of the fact comes with the suddenness that characterized the coming of war in August, 1914, and we hear the same day that a fleet of battleships, battle cruisers, destroyers, submarines, aircraft, and auxiliaries has left the enemy's country, followed by a fleet of transports carrying troops--there will be immediate need for strategy of the most skilful kind; and this need will continue until either the United States or her enemy has been made to acknowledge herself beaten, and to sue for peace. As such a war will be mainly naval, and as naval wars are characterized by great concentration of force, by each side getting practically all its naval force into the contest, by each side staking its all on the issue of perhaps a single battle (as the Russians and Japanese did at Tsushima) one fleet or the other will be practically annihilated, and its country will be exposed naked to the enemy. The first effort on hearing of the departure of the hostile fleet will be, of course, to get our fleet out to sea, reinforced as much as practicable, by our reserve ships; and to get the coast-guard on their patrol stations. As we should not know the destination of the enemy, we should either have to assume a destination and send our fleet to that place (leaving the other places undefended) or else send our fleet out to sea to some position from which it would despatch scouts in different directions to intercept the enemy, in order that our fleet might meet it and prevent its farther advance. Of course, the latter procedure could not be carried out reasonably, unless we had a great enough number of trained scouts to make the interception of the enemy fleet probable; because otherwise the probabilities would be that an enemy having the battle cruisers and scouts that European navies have, would succeed in evading our fleet and landing a force upon our shores; and it could not be carried out reasonably either, if we knew that our fleet was markedly inferior to the coming fleet; because to send out our fleet to meet a much more powerful one in actual battle would be to commit national suicide by the most expeditious method. In case the departure of the enemy fleet occurred in the stormy months of the winter, we might feel warranted in guessing that its immediate destination was the Caribbean; yet if our fleet were in the Caribbean at the time, and if our coast lacked shore defenses as at present, we might argue that the enemy would take the opportunity to make a direct descent upon our coast, seize a base--say on the eastern end of Long Island--and march directly on New York. It would be very difficult to plan the development of a line of scouts in such a way that the scouts would intercept an attack directed at some unknown point between Boston and the West Indies, perhaps in the southern part of the West Indies--say Margarita Island. In fact, it would be impossible; with the result that, unless we intercepted it by simple good luck, the enemy would succeed in landing a force on our eastern coast, or else in the seizing of a base in the West Indies or the southern part of the Caribbean Sea. Either one of these acts, successfully performed by an enemy, would give him an advantage; that is, it would make his position relatively to ours better than it was before. It would have the same effect, therefore, as winning a battle; in fact it would constitute the winning of a battle--not a physical battle but a strategic battle. It may be objected that, unless we knew our fleet to be more powerful it would be wiser and more comfortable for all concerned to withdraw our ships to the shelter of their bases, and let the enemy do his worst--on the theory that he could not do anything else so ruinous to us as to sink our fleet. There is of course considerable reasonableness in this point of view; and strategy declares the unwisdom of engaging in battles that are sure to be lost. It must be remembered, however, that the coming fleet will operate at a considerable strategic disadvantage, owing to the necessity for guarding the "train" of auxiliary ships that will come with it, holding fuel and supplies of various kinds; that this handicap will offset a considerable advantage in offensive strength; and that the handicap will be still greater if the enemy fleet have near it a flotilla of transports carrying troops. It must be remembered also that in all probability, we should not have detailed information as to the number of vessels coming, and should not really know whether it was superior to ours or not: though we should be justified in assuming that the coming fleet believed itself to be superior to ours in actual fighting power. Absence of trustworthy information on such points is usual in warfare, and is one of the elements that is the most difficult to handle. The Navy Department would be more able to form a correct estimate on this point than the commander-in-chief until such time as our scouts might come into absolute contact with the enemy's main body; but, until then, all that the department and fleet would know would be that a large hostile force had left Europe. They would not know its size or destination. Clearly, the first thing we should need would be information. To get this after war has broken out, the only means is scouts. _Scouting and Screening_.--Scouts are needed by every navy; but they are most needed by a navy that has a very long coast-line to protect. If the great commercial centres and the positions that an enemy would desire for advanced bases along the coast, have local defenses adequate to keep off a hostile fleet for, say, two weeks, the urgency of scouts is not quite so absolute; since, even if the hostile fleet evades our scouts and our fleet, and reaches our shores, our fleet will have two weeks in which to get to the place attacked. But if the coast is not only long but also unguarded by shore defenses, the urgency is of the highest order. If we knew our fleet to be the weaker, but if we did not believe it to be so much the weaker as to force it to seek safety in flight, our natural plan would be that of Napoleon's in Italy in 1797--to keep our force together, and to hurl it against detached parts of the enemy's force, whenever possible. This plan might not be difficult of execution, if the enemy were accompanied by his train of auxiliary and supply ships; since such ships are vulnerable to almost any kind of attack, have almost no means of defense whatever, and therefore require that a part of the fighting force of the main body be detached to guard them. Whether the enemy would have his train quite close to him, or a day's steaming behind, say 240 miles, we should not, of course, know. How could we ascertain? If the enemy came along with no scouts ahead, and if we happened to have some scouts located along his line of advance, these scouts faster than his ships, and so heavily armed as not to fear to venture near, our scouts might proceed along the flank of the enemy in daylight, pass along his rear, go entirely around him, and then report to our commander-in-chief by wireless telegraph exactly what craft of all kinds comprised the force, what formation they were in, the direction in which they were steaming, and the speed. Such information would be highly appreciated by our commander-in-chief, as it would enable him to decide what he had better do. If, for instance, the scouts reported that the enemy fleet were steaming at a speed of 10 knots an hour, and that the train was proceeding behind the fighting fleet without any guards of any kind around them, our commander-in-chief might decide to keep just out of sight until after dark, and then rush in with all his force of heavy ships and torpedo craft, and destroy the train entirely. But suppose the enemy fleet should advance with a "screen" consisting of a line 10 miles long of, say, 50 destroyers, 50 miles ahead of the main body; followed by a line of, say, 10 battle cruisers, 25 miles behind the destroyers; and with destroyers and battle cruisers on each flank--say, 20 miles distant from the main body. How could our scouts find out anything whatever about the size, composition, and formation of the enemy--even of his speed and direction of advance? The purpose of the "screen" is to prevent our ascertaining these things; and each individual part of the screen will do its best to carry out that purpose. All the vessels of the screen and of the main body will be equipped with wireless-telegraph apparatus and a secret code, by means of which instant communication will be continuously held, the purport of which cannot be understood by our ships. Any endeavor of any of our scouts to "penetrate the screen" will be instantly met by the screen itself, out of sight of the enemy's main body; and the screen cannot be penetrated in the daytime, unless we can defeat those members of the screen that try to hold us off. Now, inasmuch as all the considerable naval Powers of Europe have many battle cruisers, and we have no battle cruisers whatever, and no scouts of any kind, except three inefficient ones (the _Birmingham_, _Chester_, and _Salem_) the degree of success that we should have penetrating the screen in the daytime can be estimated by any lawyer, merchant, or schoolboy. The Laws of successful scouting and of the use of "search curves" have been worked out mathematically, and they are used to find an enemy of which one has certain information; but they are also used by the enemy to avoid being found, and they aid the enemy that is sought almost as much as they aid the seeker. And the sought has the advantage that the use of force, if force can be employed, breaks up the application of the mathematics of the seeker. It is true that two main bodies of two fleets may stumble against each other in the night-time, or in a fog or heavy mist. To prevent this possible occurrence, or to prevent a night attack by destroyers, no sure means has yet been found except examination before dark of a very large area around the fleet that is sought; but the area is too great for a search rigid enough to give complete security, and will probably be so until swift aircraft can scout over long distances at sea. Accepting for the minute the convention that the main body of each side goes at the cruising speed of 10 knots, and that darkness lasts 12 hours, each side will go 120 miles in darkness; and if the two main bodies happen to be going directly toward each other they will approach 240 miles in the darkness of one night. Therefore, a coming fleet, in order to feel entirely safe, would in daylight have to inspect by its scouts a circle of 120 miles radius. To insure safety against destroyer attack, the area would have to be much greater on account of the greater speed of destroyers. [Illustration] Unless our defending fleet knew with reasonable sureness, however, the location, speed, and direction of motion of the coming fleet, so that it could make its dispositions for attack, it would hardly desire to meet the enemy at night, unless it were confident that it would meet the train and not the main fleet or the destroyers. Night attacks, both on sea and land, are desirable, if the attacker can inflict surprise on the attacked, and not be surprised himself. In the darkness a flotilla of destroyers may make an attack on the various vulnerable colliers and supply vessels of a fleet, or even on the main body, and achieve a marked success, because that is the rôle they are trained to play. But the tremendous power and accuracy of battleships cannot be utilized or made available in darkness; and therefore a commander-in-chief, anxious to defeat by superior skill a coming fleet larger than his own, would hardly throw away all chance of using skill by risking his main body in a night encounter. Every operation planned by strategy is supposed to result from the "decision" which follows the estimate of the situation; even if in some simple or urgent cases, the decision is not laboriously worked out, but is almost unconscious and even automatic. Now, it is hardly conceivable that any estimate of the situation would be followed by a decision to go ahead and trust to luck, except in very desperate circumstances. In such circumstances, when hope is almost gone, a desperate blow, even in the dark, may save a situation--as a lucky hand at cards may redeem a gambler's fortune at even the last moment. But strategy is opposed to taking desperate measures; and pugilists and even gamblers recognize the fact that when a man becomes "desperate," his judgment is bad, and his chances of success are almost zero. While it is possible, therefore, that the main bodies of hostile fleets may come together in the night, we may assume that it will not be as part of any planned operations, and therefore not within the scope of this discussion; and that any combat which may result will be one in which strategy will play no part, and in which even tactics will yield first place to chance. But while our defending fleet will have to base most of its decisions on guesses, the coming fleet, on the other hand, having accepted the strategical disadvantage of leaving its base far in rear, will advance with all the advantage of the offensive, especially in knowing where it intends to go and what it desires to do. Coming over on a definite mission it will have been able to know what preparations to make; and as the naval Powers of Europe understand the need of co-ordination between policy and strategy, the fleet will doubtless have had time to make those preparations; it will not have started, in fact, and war will not have been declared, until all those preparations have been made. We may assume that the coming fleet will come across with all possible precautions for protecting itself against detection by the defender's scouts, and therefore against an unexpected attack, by night or by day. It cannot receive an unexpected attack unless surprised; and how can it be surprised, if it has more scouts, faster scouts, and more powerfully armed scouts than the defending fleet has? The possession of the more powerful scouts, however, will be valuable to the enemy, not only for forming a screen as a protection against enemy scouts, but also for scouting and thereby getting information for itself. A numerous squadron of scouts of different kinds, sent out ahead and on each flank would see any of our scouts that saw them; and the scouts that were the more powerful would force the weaker scouts back to the arms of their own main body, toward which the more powerful scouts would, of course, advance. The weaker scouts, therefore, would have no value whatever as a screen, save in retarding the advance of the stronger scouts, and in delaying their getting information. If the coming fleet is more powerful than the defending fleet, and has a more numerous and powerful scouting force, it will, therefore, be able to push back the defending fleet, whether an actual battle occurs or not; and it will be able to bring over, also, a large invading force in transports if its fighting superiority be great enough. Furthermore, if we have not fortified and protected the places which the enemy would wish to seize and use as advanced naval bases, the enemy will be able to seize them, and will doubtless do so. Of course, this is so obvious as to seem hardly worth declaring; and yet some people hesitate even to admit it, and thereby they assume a passive condition of moral cowardice; for they know that a strong force has always overcome a weaker force that opposed it in war; and that it always will do so, until force ceases to be force. They know that force is that which moves, or tends to move, matter; and that the greater the force, the more surely it will move matter, or anything that opposes it. If, however, we establish naval bases near our valuable commercial and strategic ports, both on our coast and in the Caribbean, and if we fortify them so that an enemy could not take them quickly, the condition of the enemy fleet will be much less happy; because it will have to remain out on the ocean, where fuelling and repairing are very difficult, and where it will be exposed, day and night, especially at night, to attack by destroyers and submarines; and in case necessity demands the occasional division of the force, it must beware of attacks on the separated portions of the fleet. The condition of a large fleet under way on an enemy's coast is one requiring much patience and endurance, and one in which the number of vessels is liable to be continuously reduced by the guerilla warfare of the defenders. In the case of our attempting offensive operations against the distant coast of an enemy, we would be in the same position as a foreign enemy would be in when attacking our coast, in that our chances of success would be excellent if our fleet were considerably superior to the defending fleet in fighting power, and in the number and strength of scouts, and if the enemy coast possessed numerous undefended bays and islands which we could seize as bases. But even if the superiority of our fleet in fighting power and scouts was considerably greater than the enemy's our ultimate success would be doubtful, if the enemy's coast and islands were so protected by guns and mines and submarines that we could not get a base near the scene of operations. It is true that the British were able to maintain blockades of the French coast during many weary months without any base nearer than England--a place far away to ships whose only motive power was sails; but destroyers and submarines and mines did not then exist, and these agencies are much more valuable to the defender than to the blockader who has no base at hand. Our operations without a base on a distant enemy coast would be apt to degenerate into warding off a continual series of more or less minor attacks by the minor craft of the defender. The commander of our fleet would be constrained to keep his fighting force pretty close together, thus restricting his initiative; lest the entire enemy fleet catch a detached part out of supporting distance of the main body, and annihilate it with little loss to themselves. We could probably shut off most of the enemy's sea-borne commerce; and the war would become one of endurance between our fleet, on the one hand, and the economic forces and the morale of the enemy country on the other hand. In the case of operations carried on far away from the bases of both fleets, operations like those that the French and British carried on in the West Indies, the commanders-in-chief will naturally be much less directed by the admiralties at home than will a commander-in-chief operating near home; and the strategical advantage, as affected by the proximity of bases, and by the possession of the better chance for the initiative, will be reduced to its minimum. Of course, the victory will go to the more powerful force; but so many factors go to make up power, that it may be difficult to determine which is the more powerful, until after victory itself shall have decided it. Supposing the skill to be equal on both sides, the victory will go to the side that possesses the most numerous and powerful vessels of all kinds. But unless there is a very great disproportion, it may be difficult to determine which side has the more powerful ships, even though we may know which side has the more numerous. It is extremely difficult to compare even two single war-ships because we do not know the relative values of their factors. Suppose two ships, for instance, to be equal in all ways, except that one ship has ten 14-inch guns, and the other has twelve 12-inch guns of higher initial velocity. Which is the more powerful ship? Suppose one ship has more armor, another more speed. Formulæ designed to assign numerical values to fighting ships have been laboriously worked out, notably by Constructor Otto Kretschmer of the German navy; but the results cannot be accepted as anything except very able approximations. Furthermore, if ship _A_ could whip ship _B_ under some conditions, _B_ could whip _A_ under other conditions. An extreme illustration would be battleship _A_ engaged with submarine _B_ at close quarters; _B_ being on the surface in one case, and submerged in the other case. _Aircraft_.--The influence of aircraft on naval operations is to be very great indeed, but in directions and by amounts that it would not be wise to attempt to predict. The most obvious influence will be in distant scouting, for which the great speed of aircraft will make them peculiarly adapted, as was demonstrated in the battle near the Skagerak. It is the belief of the author, however, that the time is close at hand when aeroplanes and dirigibles of large size will be capable of offensive operations of the highest order, including the launching of automobile torpedoes of the Whitehead type. _Skill_.--The question of skill bears a relation to the question of the material power directed by it that is very vital, but very elusive. If, for instance, ship _C_, firing ten 12-inch guns on a side, fights ship _D_, firing five like guns on a side, the advantage would seem to be with _C_; but it would not be if each gun on _D_ made three hits, while each gun on _C_ made one hit; a relative performance not at all impossible or unprecedented. Similarily, if the head of the admiralty of the _E_ fleet were a very skilful strategist, and the head of the admiralty of the _F_ fleet were not, and if the various admirals, captains, lieutenants, engineers, and gunners of the _E_ fleet were highly skilled, and those of the _F_ fleet were not, the _E_ fleet might be victorious, even if materially it were much the smaller in material and personnel. In case the head of the admiralty of the _E_ fleet were the more skilful, while the officers of the _F_ fleet were, on the average, more skilful than those of the _E_ fleet, it would be impossible to weigh the difference between them; but as a rough statement, it may be said that if the head of the admiralty of either fleet is more skilful than the other, his officers will probably be more skilful than the officers of the other; so pervasive is the influence of the chief. The effectiveness of modern ships and guns and engines and torpedoes, when used with perfect skill, is so great that we tend unconsciously to assume the perfect skill, and think of naval power in terms of material units only. Yet daily life is full of reminders that when two men or two bodies of men contend, the result depends in large though varying measure on their relative degrees of skill. Whenever one thinks of using skill, he includes in his thought the thing in the handling of which the skill is employed. One can hardly conceive of using skill except in handling something of the general nature of an instrument, even if the skill is employed in handling something which is not usually called an instrument. For instance, if a man handles an organization with the intent thereby to produce a certain result, the organization is the instrument whereby he attempts to produce the result. If a man exercises perfect skill, he achieves with his instrument 100 per cent of its possible effect. If he exercises imperfect skill, he achieves a smaller percentage of its possible effect. To analyze the effectiveness of skill, let us coin the phrase, "effective skill," and agree that, if a man produces 100 per cent of the possible, his effective skill is 100 per cent, and, in general, that a man's effective skill in using any instrument is expressed by the percentage he achieves of what the instrument can accomplish; that, for instance, if a gun is fired at a given range under given conditions, and 10 per cent hits are made in a given time, then the effective skill employed is 10 per cent. From this standpoint we see that imperfect skill is largely concerned with errors. If a man uses, say, a gun, with perfect skill, he commits no error in handling the gun; and the smaller the sum total of errors which he commits in handling the gun, the greater his effective skill and the greater the number of hits. The word "errors," as here used, does not simply mean errors of commission, but means errors of omission as well. If a man, in firing a gun, fails to press the button or trigger when his sights are on, he makes an error just as truly as the man does who presses the button or trigger when the sights are not on. Suppose that, in firing a gun, under given conditions of range, etc., the effective skill employed is 10 per cent. This means that 10 per cent of hits are made. But it means another thing equally important--it means that 90 per cent of misses are made. To what are these misses due? Clearly they are due to errors made, not necessarily by the man who fires the gun, but by all the people concerned. If the correct sight-bar range were given to the gun, and if the gun were correctly laid and the pointer pressed the button at precisely the right instant, the shot would hit the target, practically speaking. But, in actual practice, the range-finder makes an error, the spotter makes an error, the plotting-room makes an error, the sight-setter makes an error, and the gun-pointer makes an error. The sum total of all of these errors results in 90 per cent of misses. Suppose that by careful training these errors are reduced in the relation of 9 to 8, so that instead of there being 90 per cent of misses there are only 80 per cent. This does not seem a very difficult thing for training to accomplish, but note the result: the hits are increased from 10 per cent to 20 per cent. In other words, by a decrease in errors in the relation of 9 to 8, the effective skill and the hits are doubled. Conversely, if the errors increased in the ratio of 9 to 10, the misses would increase from 90 per cent to 100 per cent, and the hits would be reduced from 10 per cent to 0. Suppose now that the conditions are so very difficult that only 1 per cent of hits is made, or 99 per cent of misses, and that by training the misses are reduced from 99 per cent to 98 per cent. Clearly, by a decrease of errors of hardly more than 1 per cent the effective skill and the hits are doubled. Conversely, if the errors increased in the ratio of 99 to 100, the misses would increase from 99 per cent to 100 per cent, and the hits would be reduced from 1 per cent to 0. But suppose that the conditions are so easy that 90 per cent of hits are made and only 10 per cent of misses. Clearly, if the errors were divided by 10, so that only 1 per cent of misses was made, instead of 10 per cent, the number of hits would increase only 9 per cent, from 90 per cent to 99 per cent. Of course, this is merely an arithmetical way of expressing the ancient truths that skill becomes more and more important as the difficulties of handling an instrument increase; and that, no matter how effective an instrument may be when used with perfect skill, the actual result obtained in practice is only the product of its possible performance and the effective skill with which it is used. Applying this idea to naval matters, we see why the very maximum of skill is required in our war mechanisms and war organizations, in their almost infinite variety and complexity. The war mechanisms and war organizations of the military nations are capable of enormous results, but only when they are used with enormous skill. There are no other instruments or organizations that need so much skill to handle them, because of the difficulties attending their use and the issues at stake. Their development has been a process long and painful. On no other things has so much money been spent; to perfect no other things have so many lives been sacrificed; on no other things, excepting possibly religion, have so many books been written; to no other things has the strenuous exertion of so many minds been devoted; in operating no other things has such a combination of talent and genius and power of will and spirit been employed. A battleship is an instrument requiring skill to handle well, considered both as a mechanism and as an organization. Its effective handling calls for skill not only on the part of the captain, but on the part of all hands. The finest dreadnaught is ineffective if manned by an ineffective crew. The number and complexity of the mechanisms on board are so great as to stagger the imagination; and the circumstances of modern warfare are so difficult that, as between two forces evenly matched as to material, a comparatively slight advantage in errors made will turn the scale in favor of the more skilful. A difference in errors, for instance, in the relation of 9 to 8, under the conditions mentioned above, between two fleets having an equal number of similar ships, would give one side twice as many hits as the other in any given length of time. In March, 1905, the writer published an essay in the _Proceedings of the U. S. Naval Institute_ called "American Naval Policy," in which the effect of initial superiority in gun-fire was shown in tables. One table showed that an initial advantage of only 10 per cent secured an overwhelming victory by an accumulative effect. Now a difference of 10 per cent in hits, under conditions in which the hits were about 10 per cent of the maximum, would mean, roughly speaking, the difference between 10 hits and 9 hits in a given length of time, or a difference between 90 misses and 91 misses; a difference in errors made of a little more than 1 per cent. The conclusion to be drawn is too obvious to be stated. Perhaps the conclusion is not broadly new; but possibly the idea is new that so small a difference in errors made will, under conditions of sufficient difficulty, produce such a tremendous difference in results. Now, a division is more complex and more difficult to handle perfectly than is a battleship; a squadron more so than a division; a fleet more so than a squadron; a navy more so than a fleet. _Necessity for Knowledge of the Naval Machine_.--There is no machine or tool so simple that knowledge of it is not needed in order to use it skilfully. This does not mean that intimate knowledge of the details of construction of a machine is necessary in order to operate it; it does not mean, for instance, that a sharp-shooter must have a profound knowledge of the metallurgy of the metal of which his gun is mainly made, or of the laws of chemistry and physics that apply to powder, or of the laws of ballistics that govern the flight of the bullet to its target. But it does mean that any skilful handler of any machine must know how to use it; that a sharpshooter, for instance, must know how to use his machine--the gun. Of course, a sharpshooter's skill is exercised in operating under very limited conditions, the conditions of shooting; and it does not include necessarily the maintenance of his gun in good condition. The operating of some machines, however, includes the maintenance of those machines; and a simple illustration is that of operating an automobile. An automobile is constructed to be operated at considerable distances from home; and a man whose knowledge and skill were limited to steering, stopping, starting, and backing the car--who had no knowledge of its details of construction and could not repair a trifling injury--would have very little value as a chauffeur. A like remark might truthfully be made about the operation of any complex machine; and the more complex the machine, the more aptly the remark would apply. The chief engineer of any electric plant, of any municipal water-works, of any railroad, of any steamship must have the most profound and intimate knowledge of the details of construction and the method of operation of the machine committed to his charge. Recognition of this fact by the engineering profession is so complete and perfect as to be almost unconscious; and no man whose reasoning faculties had been trained by the exact methods of engineering could forget it for a moment. The whole structure of that noble science rests on facts that have been demonstrated to be facts, and the art rests on actions springing from those facts; and neither the science nor the art would now exist, if machines created by engineering skill had been committed to the charge of men unskilled. It is obvious that the more complicated in construction any machine is, the more time and study are needed to understand it fully; and that the more complicated its method of operation is, the more practice is needed in order to attain skill in operating it. The more simple the method of operation, the more closely a machine approaches automatism; but even automatic machines are automatic only in so far as their internal mechanisms are concerned; and the fact of their being automatic does not eliminate the necessity for skill in using them. An automatic gun, for instance, no matter how perfectly automatically it discharges bullets, may be fired at an advancing enemy skilfully or unskilfully, effectively or ineffectively. In operating some machines, such as a soldier's rifle, or a billiard cue, the number of mental, nervous, and muscular operations is apparently very few; yet every physician knows that the number is very great indeed, and the operations extremely complex--complex beyond the knowledge of the psychologist, physicist, chemist, and biologist. The operation of more complex mechanisms, such as automobiles, seems to be more difficult, because the operator has more different kinds of things to do. Yet that it is really more difficult may be doubted for two reasons; one being that each single operation is of a more simple nature, and the other reason being that we know that a much higher degree of skill is possessed by a great billiardist than by an automobile chauffeur. Of course, the reason of this may be that competition among billiardists has been much more keen than among chauffeurs; but even if this be true, it reminds us that _the difficulty of operating any machine depends on the degree of skill exacted_. It also reminds us that, if a machine is to be operated in competition with another machine, the skill of the operator should be as great as it can be made. The steaming competitions that have been carried on in our navy for several years are examples on a large scale of competitive trials of skill in operating machines. These machines are very powerful, very complex, very important; and that supreme skill shall be used in operating them is very important too. For this reason, every man in the engineering department of every ship, from the chief engineer himself to the youngest coal-passer, is made to pass an examination of some kind, in order that no man may be put into any position for which he is unfit, and no man advanced to any position until he has shown himself qualified for it, both by performance in the grade from which he seeks to rise, and by passing a professional examination as to the duties in the grade to which he desires to rise. The same principles apply to all machines; and the common sense of mankind appreciates them, even if the machines are of the human type. A captain of a company of soldiers, in all armies and in all times, has been trained to handle a specific human machine; so has the captain of a football team, so has the rector of a church. The training that each person receives gives him such a subconscious sense of the weights and uses of the various parts of the machine, that he handles them almost automatically--and not only automatically but instantly. The captain on the bridge, when an emergency confronts him, gives the appropriate order instantly. Now the word "machine" conveys to the minds of most of us the image of an engine made of metal, the parts of which are moved by some force, such as the expansive force of steam. But machines were in use long before the steam-engine came, and one of the earliest known to man was man himself--the most perfect machine known to him now, and one of the most complicated and misused; for who of us does not know of some human machine of the most excellent type, that has been ruined by the ignorance or negligence of the man to whose care it was committed? A machine is in its essence an aggregation of many parts, so related to each other and to some external influence, that the parts can be made to operate together, to attain some desired end or object. From this point of view, which the author believes to be correct, a baseball team is a machine, so is a political party, so is any organization. Before the days of civilization, machines were few in type; but as civilization progressed, the necessity for organizations of many kinds grew up, and organizations of many kinds appeared. Then the necessity for knowledge of how to operate those organizations brought about certain professions, first that of the military, second that of the priesthood, and later those of the law, medicine, engineering, etc. As time has gone on, the preparation required for these professions, especially the progressive professions, has become increasingly difficult and increasingly demanded; and the members of the professions have become increasingly strict in their requirements of candidates for membership. Now the profession that is the most strict of all, that demands the greatest variety of qualifications, and the earliest apprenticeship, is the military. The military profession serves on both the land and the sea, in armies and navies; and while both the land and the sea branches are exacting in their demands, the sea or naval branch is the more exacting of the two; by reason of the fact that the naval profession is the more esoteric, the more apart from the others, the more peculiar. In all the naval countries, suitable youths are taken in hand by their governments, and initiated into the "mysteries" of the naval profession--mysteries that would always remain mysteries to them, if their initiation were begun too late in life. Many instances are known of men who obtained great excellence in professions which they entered late in life; but not one instance in the case of a man who entered the naval profession late in life. And though some civilian heads of navies have shown great mental capacity, and after--say three years'--incumbency have shown a comprehension of naval matters greater than might have been expected, none has made a record of performance like those of the naval ministers of Germany and Japan; or of Admiral Barham, as first lord of the admiralty, or Sir John Fisher as first sea lord, in England. A navy is so evidently a machine that the expression "naval machine" has often been applied to it. It is a machine that, both in peace and in war, must be handled by one man, no matter how many assistants he may have. If a machine cannot be made to obey the will of one man, it is not one machine. If two men are needed, at least two machines are to be operated; if three men are needed there are at least three machines, etc. One fleet is handled by one man, called the commander-in-chief. If there are two commanders-in-chief, there are two fleets; and these two fleets may act in conjunction, in opposition, or without reference to each other. The fact of a machine being operated by one man does not, however, prevent the machine from comprising several machines, operated by several men. A vessel of war, for instance, is operated as a unit by one man; the words "vessel of war," meaning not only the inert hull, but all the parts of personnel and material that make a vessel of war. The captain does not handle each individual machine or man; but he operates the mechanism and the personnel, by means of which all the machines and men are made to perform their tasks. Now the naval machine is composed of many machines, but the machines that have to be "operated" in war, using the word "operated" in the usual military sense, are only the active fleet, the bureaus and offices and the bases; including in the bases any navy-yards within them. Using the word "operated" still more technically, the only thing to be operated in war is the fleet: but the head of the Navy Department must also so direct the logistical efforts of the bureaus and offices and bases, that the fleet shall be given the material in fuel, supplies, and ammunition with which to conduct those operations. Like the chief engineer of a ship, he must both operate and maintain the machine. The fleet itself is a complex machine, even in time of peace. In war time it is more so, for the reason that many additions are made to the fleet when war breaks out; and these additions, being largely of craft and men held in reserve, or brought in hurriedly from civil life, cannot be so efficient or so reliable as are the parts of the fleet that existed in time of peace. The active fleet consists of battleships, battle cruisers, cruisers of various speeds and sizes, destroyers, submarines, and aircraft. The fleet is under the immediate command of its commander-in-chief, just as the New York naval station is under the command of its commandant; but the commander-in-chief of the fleet is just as strictly under the command of the head of the admiralty or Navy Department as is the commandant. The commander-in-chief is the principal part of the naval machine that is operated in war; and the ultimate success of the naval machine in war depends largely on the amount and degree of understanding that exists between the commander-in-chief and the head of the Navy Department. That goodwill and kindly feeling should exist between them may be assumed, since both have the same object in view; but that real understanding should exist between them is more difficult to assume, especially if they have been trained in different schools and have not known each other until late in life. In the latter case, misunderstandings are apt to arise, as time goes on; and if they do, the most cordial good feeling may change into mutual distrust and suspicion, and even hatred. To see that such things have happened in the past, we do not have to look further back in history than the records of our own Civil War, especially the records of the mutual relations of the head of the War Department and some generals. That a situation equally grave did not exist between the head of the Navy Department and any of the admirals may be attributed to the fact that the number of naval defeats was less than the number of defeats on land, to the lesser number of persons in the navy, and to the smaller number of operations. Perhaps a still greater reason was the greater confidence shown by civilians in their ability to handle troops, compared with their confidence in their ability to handle fleets. Even between the Navy Department and the officers, however, mutual respect and understanding can hardly be said to have existed. This did not prevent the ultimate triumph of the Union navy; but that could hardly have been prevented by any means, since the Union navy was so much superior to the Confederate. _Co-operation between the Navy Department and the Fleet_.--In any war with a powerful navy, into which the U. S. navy may enter, the question of co-operation between the department and the fleet will be the most important factor in the portentous situation that will face us. We shall be confronted with the necessity of handling the most complex and powerful machine known to man with the utmost possible skill; and any lack of understanding between the fleet and the department, and any slowness of apprehension or of action by the department, may cause a national disaster. One of the most important dangers to be guarded against will be loss of time. In naval operations the speed of movement of the forces is so great that crises develop and pass with a rapidity unexampled formerly; so that delays of any kind, or due to any causes, must be prevented if that be possible. If a swordsman directs a thrust at the heart, the thrust must be parried--_in time_. [Illustration: STRATEGIC MAP OF THE ATLANTIC AND PACIFIC OCEANS.] 
34459	----	available by Internet Archive (http://www.archive.org) Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustrations. See 34459-h.htm or 34459-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/34459/34459-h/34459-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/34459/34459-h.zip) Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive. See http://www.archive.org/details/romanceofwarinve00corbiala Transcriber's note: In this plain text version, underlined text in the original is surrounded by =equals symbols=; italic typeface is surrounded by _underscores_; bold typeface and small caps typeface are represented by UPPER CASE. The oe-ligature appears as [oe]. Changes to the text (to correct typographical errors) are listed at the end of the book. A few cases of missing punctuation have been regularised in the advertisements without comment. All advertising material has been retained in the same position as it appears in the original book. There are extensive advertisements before and after the title page, following the index and in a sixteen page publisher's catalogue at the end of the book. THE ROMANCE OF WAR INVENTIONS * * * * * THE IAN HARDY SERIES BY COMMANDER E. HAMILTON CURREY, R.N. _Each Volume with Illustrations in Colour. 5s. each_ Ian Hardy's career in H.M. Navy is told in four volumes, which are described below. Each volume is complete in itself, and no knowledge of the previous volumes is necessary, but few boys will read one of the series without wishing to peruse the others. IAN HARDY, NAVAL CADET "A sound and wholesome story giving a lively picture of a naval cadet's life."--_Birmingham Gazette_. "A very wholesome book for boys, and the lurking danger of Ian's ill deeds being imitated may be regarded as negligible in comparison with the good likely to be done by the example of his manly, honest nature. Ian was a boy whom his father might occasionally have reason to whip, but never feel ashamed of."--_United Service Magazine_. IAN HARDY, MIDSHIPMAN "A jolly sequel to his last year's book."--_Christian World_. "The 'real thing.' ... Certain to enthral boys of almost any age who love stories of British pluck."--_Observer_. "=Commander E. Hamilton Currey, R.N., is becoming a serious rival to Kingston as a writer of sea stories.= Just as a former generation revelled in Kingston's doings of his three heroes from their middy days until they became admirals all, so will the present-day boys read with interest the story of Ian Hardy. Last year we knew him as a cadet; this year we get _Ian Hardy, Midshipman_. The present instalment of his stirring history is breezily written."--_Yorkshire Observer_. IAN HARDY, SENIOR MIDSHIPMAN "Of those who are now writing stories of the sea, Commander Currey holds perhaps the leading position. He has a gift of narrative, a keen sense of humour, and above all he writes from a full stock of knowledge."--_Saturday Review_. "=It is no exaggeration to say that Commander Currey bears worthily the mantle of Kingston and Captain Marryat.="--_Manchester Courier._ "The Ian Hardy Series is just splendid for boys to read, and the best of it is that each book is complete in itself. But not many boys will read one of the series without being keenly desirous of reading all the others."--_Sheffield Telegraph_. IAN HARDY FIGHTING THE MOORS "By writing this series the author is doing national service, for he writes of the Navy and the sea with knowledge and sound sense.... What a welcome addition the whole series would make to a boy's library."--_Daily Graphic._ "The right romantic stuff, full of fighting and hairbreadth escapes.... Commander Currey has the secret of making the men and ships seem actual."--_Times_. "By this time Ian Hardy has become a real friend and we consider him all a hero should be."--Outlook. SEELEY, SERVICE & CO. LIMITED * * * * * THE LIBRARY OF ROMANCE _Each volume profusely illustrated. Ex. Crown 8vo. 5s._ "THE LIBRARY OF ROMANCE OFFERS A SPLENDID CHOICE."--_Globe._ THE ROMANCE OF PIRACY BY E. KEBLE CHATTERTON, B.A. AUTHOR OF "THE ROMANCE OF THE SHIP" _With many illustrations_ THE ROMANCE OF AERONAUTICS BY CHARLES C. TURNER "A VALUABLE CONTRIBUTION TO THE LITERATURE OF THIS MOST MARVELLOUS SUBJECT."--_British Weekly_ _With forty illustrations_ THE ROMANCE OF MODERN ASTRONOMY BY HECTOR MACPHERSON, JUNR. _With thirty-seven illustrations_ THE ROMANCE OF SAVAGE LIFE Describing the Habits, Customs, Everyday Life, Arts, Crafts, Games, Adventures and Sports of Primitive Man BY PROF. G. F. SCOTT ELLIOT M.A., B.SC., F.R.G.S., F.L.S., &c. _With forty illustrations_ THE ROMANCE OF MODERN SIEGES BY THE REV. 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PHILIP, D.SC., PH.D. _With thirty illustrations_ "A FASCINATING EXPOSITION IN POPULAR LANGUAGE."--_Illustrated London News_ THE ROMANCE OF THE GREAT WAR BY N. J. DAVIDSON, B.A. (Oxon.) _With many illustrations_ _NEW & REVISED EDITION_ THE ROMANCE OF MODERN INVENTION BY ARCHIBALD WILLIAMS B.A., F.R.G.S. _With twenty-five illustrations_ THE ROMANCE OF EARLY EXPLORATION BY ARCHIBALD WILLIAMS B.A., F.R.G.S. _With sixteen illustrations_ "VIVID AND VIGOROUS." _Glasgow Herald_ THE ROMANCE OF MISSIONARY HEROISM BY J. C. LAMBERT, B.A., D.D. _With thirty-nine illustrations_ "A MOST ENTRANCING VOLUME." _Expository Times_ THE ROMANCE OF PLANT LIFE BY G. F. SCOTT ELLIOT, M.A. _With thirty-four illustrations_ "INTENSELY INTERESTING." _Leeds Mercury_ THE ROMANCE OF THE ANIMAL WORLD BY EDMUND SELOUS _With sixteen full-page illustrations_ "A VERY FASCINATING BOOK." _Graphic_ THE ROMANCE OF MODERN GEOLOGY BY E. S. GREW, M.A. _With twenty-five illustrations_ "ABSORBINGLY INTERESTING." _Scotsman_ THE ROMANCE OF MODERN MANUFACTURE BY C. R. GIBSON, F.R.S.E. _With forty illustrations_ "WELL PLANNED, WELL WRITTEN, AND WELL ILLUSTRATED." _Pall Mall Gazette_ SEELEY, SERVICE & CO. LIMITED * * * * * POPULAR SCIENCE FOR YOUNG PEOPLE BY CHARLES R. GIBSON, F.R.S.E. "Among writers for boys on science, easily the most skilful is Mr. Charles Gibson. He writes so clearly, simply and charmingly about the most difficult things that his books are quite as entertaining as any ordinary book of adventure. Mr. Gibson has a first-rate scientific mind and considerable scientific attainments. He is never guilty of an inexact phrase--certainly, never an obscure one--or a misleading analogy. We could imagine him having a vogue among our young folk comparable with that of Jules Verne."--_The Nation._ "Mr. Gibson has fairly made his mark as a populariser of scientific knowledge."--_Guardian._ _JUST PUBLISHED_ THE STARS & THEIR MYSTERIES (Vol. III. SCIENCE FOR CHILDREN SERIES). With Coloured Frontisp. & other Illustrations. 3_s._ 6_d._ OUR GOOD SLAVE ELECTRICITY (Vol. I. SCIENCE FOR CHILDREN SERIES). With Illustrations. 3_s._ 6_d._ "An exquisitely clear book for childish beginners."--_The Nation._ "Told in simple and remarkably clear language, and with such ingenuity that many pages of it read like a fairy tale."--_Glasgow Herald._ THE GREAT BALL ON WHICH WE LIVE (Vol. II. SCIENCE FOR CHILDREN SERIES). With Coloured Frontispiece and other Illustrations. 3_s._ 6_d._ "Capital."--_Field._ "A most fascinating and suggestive story of the earth. Mr. Gibson not only knows his subject thoroughly, but has the capacity of conveying the knowledge to young folk."--_Church Family Newspaper._ THE ROMANCE OF MODERN ELECTRICITY. Describing in Non-technical Language what is known about Electricity and many of its interesting applications. With 41 Illustrations. Extra crown 8vo, 5_s._ "Admirable, clear and concise."--_Graphic._ "Very entertaining and instructive."--_Queen._ "A book which the merest tyro, totally unacquainted with elementary principles, can understand."--_Electricity._ THE ROMANCE OF MODERN PHOTOGRAPHY. Its Discovery and its Applications. With Illustrations. Extra crown 8vo, 5_s._ "There is not a dry or uninteresting page throughout."--_Country Life._ "The narration is everywhere remarkable for its fluency and clear style."--_Bystander._ THE ROMANCE OF SCIENTIFIC DISCOVERY. A Popular Account of the most important Discoveries in Science. With 30 Illus. 5_s._ "The most curious boy of mechanical bent would find such a book satisfying."--_Westminster Gazette._ THE ROMANCE OF MODERN MANUFACTURE. A Popular Account of the Marvels of Manufacturing. 5_s._ "A popular and practical account of all kinds of manufacture."--_Scotsman._ "Just the sort of book to put into the hands of senior boys as a school prize."--_Sheffield Telegraph._ HEROES OF THE SCIENTIFIC WORLD. An Account of the Lives, Sacrifices, Successes, and Failures of some of the greatest Scientists in the World's History. With 19 Illustrations. Extra crown 8vo, 5_s._ "The whole field of science is well covered.... Every one of the 300 odd pages contains some interesting piece of information."--_Athenæum._ THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN ELECTRON. With 8 Illustrations. Long 8vo, 3_s._ 6_d._ net. "A brilliant study."--_Daily Mail._ "Quite a unique book in its way, at once attractive and illuminating."--_Record._ THE WONDERS OF MODERN ELECTRICITY. With 17 Illustrations and Diagrams. Extra crown 8vo, 2_s._ THE WONDERS OF MODERN MANUFACTURE. With 22 Illustrations. Extra crown 8vo, 2_s._ SEELEY, SERVICE & CO. LIMITED * * * * * THE ROMANCE OF WAR INVENTIONS [Illustration: A TANK. These weird-looking engines are literally moving forts, and are the evolution of a peaceful agricultural machine fitted with "caterpillar" wheels, that is, a broad band encircles the driving wheels, and so the whole construction moves as it were on its own revolving platform and is thus prevented from sinking into the soft ground. The principle itself is not new, as it was adapted to transport carts during the Crimean War.] THE ROMANCE OF WAR INVENTIONS A Description of Warships, Guns, Tanks, Rifles, Bombs, and Other Instruments and Munitions of Warfare, How They Were Invented & How They Are Employed by T. W. CORBIN Author of "The Romance of Submarine Engineering," "Mechanical Inventions of To-Day," &c., &c., &c. With many Illustrations London Seeley, Service & Co. Limited 38 Great Russell Street 1918 * * * * * THE LIBRARY OF ROMANCE _Extra Crown 8vo. With many illustrations. 5s. each._ "Splendid Volumes."--_The Outlook._ "The Library of Romance offers a splendid choice."--_Globe._ "Gift Books whose value it would be difficult to over-estimate." _The Standard._ "This series has now won a considerable & well deserved reputation." _The Guardian._ "Each Volume treats its allotted theme with accuracy, but at the same time with a charm that will commend itself to readers of all ages. The root idea is excellent, and it is excellently carried out, with full illustrations and very prettily designed covers."--_The Daily Telegraph._ By Prof. G. F. SCOTT ELLIOT, M.A., B.Sc. The Romance of Savage Life The Romance of Plant Life The Romance of Early British Life By EDWARD GILLIAT, M.A. The Romance of Modern Sieges By JOHN LEA, M.A. The Romance of Bird Life By JOHN LEA. M.A. & H. COUPIN, D.Sc. The Romance of Animal Arts and Crafts By SIDNEY WRIGHT The Romance of the World's Fisheries By the Rev. J. C. LAMBERT, M.A., D.D. The Romance of Missionary Heroism By G. FIRTH SCOTT The Romance of Polar Exploration By CHARLES R. GIBSON, F.R.S.E. The Romance of Modern Photography The Romance of Modern Electricity The Romance of Modern Manufacture The Romance of Scientific Discovery By CHARLES C. TURNER The Romance of Aeronautics By HECTOR MACPHERSON, Junr. The Romance of Modern Astronomy By ARCHIBALD WILLIAMS, B.A. (Oxon.), F.R.G.S. The Romance of Early Exploration The Romance of Modern Exploration The Romance of Modern Mechanism The Romance of Modern Invention The Romance of Modern Engineering The Romance of Modern Locomotion The Romance of Modern Mining By EDMUND SELOUS The Romance of the Animal World The Romance of Insect Life By AGNES GIBERNE The Romance of the Mighty Deep By E. S. GREW, M.A. The Romance of Modern Geology By J. C. PHILIP, D.Sc., Ph.D. The Romance of Modern Chemistry By E. KEBLE CHATTERTON, B.A. The Romance of the Ship The Romance of Piracy By T. W. CORBIN The Romance of Submarine Engineering The Romance of War Inventions By NORMAN J. DAVIDSON, B.A. (Oxon.) The Romance of the Spanish Main SEELEY, SERVICE & CO., LIMITED. * * * * * CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. HOW PEACEFUL ARTS HELP IN WAR 17 II. GUNPOWDER AND ITS MODERN EQUIVALENTS 27 III. RADIUM IN WAR 39 IV. A GOOD SERVANT, THOUGH A BAD MASTER 49 V. MINES, SUBMARINE AND SUBTERRANEAN 61 VI. MILITARY BRIDGES 75 VII. WHAT GUNS ARE MADE OF 92 VIII. MORE ABOUT GUNS 108 IX. THE GUNS THEY USE IN THE NAVY 120 X. SHELLS AND HOW THEY ARE MADE 135 XI. WHAT SHELLS ARE MADE OF 146 XII. MEASURING THE VELOCITY OF A SHELL 159 XIII. SOME ADJUNCTS IN THE ENGINE ROOM 164 XIV. ENGINES OF WAR 169 XV. DESTROYERS 184 XVI. BATTLESHIPS 191 XVII. HOW A WARSHIP IS BUILT 202 XVIII. THE TORPEDO 215 XIX. WHAT A SUBMARINE IS LIKE 223 XX. THE STORY OF WIRELESS TELEGRAPHY 240 XXI. WIRELESS TELEGRAPHY IN WAR 252 XXII. MILITARY TELEGRAPHY 264 XXIII. HOW WAR INVENTIONS GROW 276 XXIV. AEROPLANES 284 XXV. THE AERIAL LIFEBOAT 297 INDEX 313 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS A TANK _Frontispiece_ PAGE MACHINE-GUN VERSUS RIFLE 32 AN ITALIAN MINE-LAYER 64 AN INCIDENT AT LOOS 80 AN 18-POUNDER IN ACTION 96 A GERMAN AUTOMATIC PISTOL 112 BOMB THROWING 136 BOMB-THROWERS AT WORK 160 THE TRIPOD MAST 208 LISTENING FOR THE ENEMY 248 DIAGRAM SHOWING THE PRINCIPLE BY WHICH THE AERIALS ARE CONNECTED TO THE APPARATUS 251 THE PARENT OF THE TANK 280 THE "GUARDIAN ANGEL" PARACHUTE 304 THE ROMANCE OF WAR INVENTIONS CHAPTER I HOW PEACEFUL ARTS HELP IN WAR In the olden times warfare was supported by a single trade, that of the armourer. Nowadays the whole resources of the greatest manufacturing nations scarcely suffice to supply the needs of their armies. So much is this the case that no nation can possibly hope to become powerful in a military or naval sense unless they are either a great manufacturing community or can rely upon the support of some great manufacturing ally or neutral. It is most astonishing to find how closely some of the most innocent and harmless of the commodities of peace are related to the death-dealing devices of war. Of these no two examples could be more striking than the common salt with which we season our food and the soap with which we wash. Yet the manufacture of soap furnishes the material for the most furious of explosives and the chief agent in its manufacture is the common salt of the table. Common salt is a combination of the metal sodium and the gas chlorine. There are many places, of which Cheshire is a notable example, where vast quantities of this salt lie buried in the earth. Fortunately it is very easily dissolved in water so that if wells be sunk in a salt district the water pumped from them will have much salt in solution in it. This is how the underground deposits are tapped. It is not necessary for men to go down as they do after coal, for the water excavates the salt and brings it to the surface. To obtain the solid salt from the salt water, or brine as it is called, it is only necessary to heat the liquid, when the water passes away as steam leaving the salt behind. Important though this salt is in connection with our food, it is perhaps still more important as the source from which is derived chlorine and caustic soda. How this is done can best be explained by means of a simple experiment which my readers can try in imagination with me or, better still, perform for themselves. Take a tumbler and fill it with water with a little salt dissolved in it. Next obtain two short pieces of wire and two pieces of pencil lead, which with a pocket lamp battery will complete the apparatus. Connect one piece of wire to each terminal of the battery and twist the other end of it round a piece of pencil lead. Place these so that the ends of the leads dip into the salt water. It is important to keep the wires out of the solution, the leads alone dipping into the liquid, and the two leads should be an inch or so apart. In a few moments you will observe that tiny bubbles are collecting upon the leads and these joining together into larger bubbles will soon detach themselves and float up to the surface. Those which arise from one of the leads will be formed of the gas chlorine and the others of hydrogen. It will be interesting just to enumerate the names of the different parts of this apparatus. First let me say that the process by which these gases are thus obtained is called electrolysis: the liquid is the electrolyte: the two pieces of pencil lead are the electrodes. That electrode by which the current enters the electrolyte is called the an-ode, while the other is the cath-ode. In other words, the current traverses them in alphabetical order. Now it is familiar to everyone that all matter is supposed to consist of tiny particles called Molecules. These are far too tiny for anyone to see even with the finest microscope, so we do not know for certain that they exist: we assume that they do, however, because the idea seems to fit in with a large number of facts which we can observe and it enables us to talk intelligibly about them. We may, accordingly, speak as if we knew for a certainty that molecules really exist. Now when we dissolve salt in water it seems as if each molecule splits up into two things which we then call "ions." Salt is not peculiar in this respect, for many other substances do the same when dissolved in water. All such substances, since they can be "ionized," are called "ionogens." Now the peculiarity about ions is that they are always strongly electrified or charged with electricity. At this stage we must make a little excursion into the realm of electricity. You probably know that if a rod of glass be rubbed with a silk handkerchief it becomes able to attract little scraps of paper. That is because the rubbing causes it to become charged with electricity. In like manner a piece of resin if rubbed will become charged and will also attract little pieces of paper. A piece of electrified resin and an electrified glass rod will, moreover, attract each other, but two pieces of resin or two pieces of glass, if electrified, will repel each other. This leads us to believe that there are two kinds of electrification or two kinds of electrical charge. At first these two kinds were spoken of as vitreous or glass electricity and resinous electricity, but after a while the idea arose that there was really one kind of electricity and that everything possessed a certain amount of it, the electrified glass having a little too much of it and the electrified resin a shade too little of it. From this came the idea of calling the charge on the glass a "positive" charge and that on the resin a "negative" charge. Recent investigations seem to show that we have got those two terms the wrong way round, but to avoid confusion we still use them in the old way. It will be sufficient for our purpose, therefore, if we assume that every molecule of matter has a certain normal amount of electricity associated with it and that under those conditions the presence of the electricity is not in any way noticeable. When a molecule becomes ionized, however, one ion always seems to run off with more than its fair share of the electricity, the result being that one is electrified positively, like rubbed glass, while the other is negatively charged, like rubbed resin. Thus, when the common salt is dissolved in water, two lots of ions are formed, one lot positively charged and the other lot negatively. Each molecule of salt consists of two atoms, one of sodium and one of chlorine: consequently, one ion is a chlorine atom and the other is a sodium atom, the latter being positive and the former negative. Now the electrodes are also charged by the action of the battery. That connected to the positive pole of the battery becomes positively charged and the other negatively. The anode, therefore, is positive and the cathode negative. It has been pointed out that two similarly charged bodies, such as two pieces of glass or two pieces of resin, repel each other, while either of these attracts one of the other sort. Hence we arrive at a rule that similarly charged bodies repel each other, while dissimilarly charged bodies attract each other. Acting upon this rule, therefore, the anode starts drawing to itself all the negative ions, in this case the atoms of chlorine, while the cathode gathers together the positive ions, the atoms of sodium. Thus the action of the battery maintains a sorting out process by which the sodium is gathered together around one of the electrodes and the chlorine round the other. Those ions, by the way, which travel towards the _an_-ode are called _an_-ions, while those which go to the cath-ode are termed cat-ions. Thus far, I think, you will have followed me: the chlorine is gathered to one place and the sodium to the other. The former creates bubbles and floats up to the surface and escapes. But where, you will ask, does the hydrogen come from, which we found, in the experiment, was bubbling up round the cathode. Moreover, what becomes of the sodium? Both those questions can be answered together. The sodium ions, having been drawn away from their old partners the chlorine ions, are unhappy, and long for fresh partners. They therefore proceed to join up with molecules of water. But water contains too much hydrogen for that. Every molecule of water has two atoms of hydrogen linked up with one of oxygen, but sodium does not like two atoms of hydrogen: it insists on having one only. Accordingly the oxygen atom from the water, together with one of the hydrogen atoms, join forces with the sodium atom into a molecule of a new substance, a most valuable substance in many manufactures, called Caustic Soda, while the odd atom of hydrogen, deprived of its partners, has nothing left to do but to cling for a while to the cathode and finally float up and away. The sum-total of the operation therefore is this: when we pass an electric current through salt water, between graphite electrodes, chlorine goes to the anode and escapes, while caustic soda is formed round the cathode and hydrogen escapes. Let us see now how this is applied commercially. For the production of Chlorine the apparatus need be little more than our experimental apparatus made large. The anode can be covered in such a way as to catch the gas as it bubbles upwards. In times of peace this gas is chiefly used for making bleaching powder. It is led into chambers where it comes into contact with lime, with which it combines into chloride of lime, a powder which is sometimes used as a disinfectant, but the chief use of which is for bleaching those cotton and woollen fabrics for the manufacture of which this country is famous throughout the world. The Germans, however, have taught the world another use for chlorine. Those gallant Canadians who were the first victims of the attack by "poison gas" who suddenly found themselves fighting for breath, and a few of whom, more fortunate than the rest, have reached their homes shattered in health with permanent damage to their lungs, those brave fellows suffered from poisoning by chlorine. We cannot obtain the other product, the caustic soda, by the same simple means. In our little experiment we succeeded in manufacturing some of it in the region around the cathode, and had we drawn off some of the liquid from there we would have been able to detect its presence. But it would have been mixed up with much ordinary salt, and for commercial purposes we need the caustic soda separate from the salt. The principle is, however, just the same, as you will see. Imagine a large oblong vat divided by vertical partitions into three separate chambers. These partitions do not quite reach the bottom of the vessel, so that there is a means of communication between all three chambers. This is closed, however, by filling the lower part of the vat with mercury up to a level a little higher than the lower ends of the partitions. Thus we have three separate chambers with communication between them but that communication is sealed up by the mercury. The two end chambers are filled with salt water, or brine, while the centre one is filled with a solution of caustic soda. In each end compartment is a stick of graphite, both being electrically joined together and so connected up that they form anodes, while in the centre compartment is the cathode. When the current flows from the anodes it carries the sodium ions with it, just as it did in our little experiment. But its course, this time, is not straight, since in order to travel from anode to cathode it has to pass through the openings in the partitions, in other words through the mercury. On arrival at or near the cathode the ions of sodium cause the caustic soda to be formed just as in our experiment, but in this case, you will notice, the formation takes place in a chamber from which the salt brine is completely excluded by the mercury. Brine is continually fed into the outer chambers and the solution of caustic soda is drawn from the centre one, while the chlorine is collected over the anodes. And now we can go a step further on our progress from common salt to explosive. In the soap works there are enormous coppers in which are boiled various kinds of fat. The source of the fat may be either animal or vegetable, many kinds of beans, nuts and seeds furnishing fats practically identical with that which can be got from the fat flesh of a sheep, for instance. To this fat is added some caustic soda solution and the whole is kept boiling for some considerable time. This protracted boiling is to enable the soda thoroughly to attack the fat and combine with it, whereby two entirely new substances are formed. At first the two new substances are not apparent, for they remain together in one liquid. The addition, however, of some brine causes the change to become obvious for something in the liquid turns solid, so that it can be easily taken away from the rest. That solid is nothing else than soap. It remained dissolved in the water which forms part of the liquid until the salt was put in, but as it will not dissolve in salt water, as you will discover if you attempt to wash in sea water, it separates out as soon as the salt is added. But still a liquid remains: what can that be? It is mainly salt water and glycerine, that sticky stuff which in peace times we put on our hands if they get sore in winter, or take, in a little water, to soothe a sore throat. That it has other and very different uses was brought home to me when, during the war, I tried to buy some at a chemist's, only to learn that it could not be sold except in cases of extreme need under the orders of a doctor. The mixed liquid is distilled with the result that the water is driven off and the salt deposited, which with other minor purifying processes gives the pure glycerine. The next step takes us to the explosives factory, where the glycerine is mixed with sulphuric and nitric acids. Now glycerine, as you will have observed, comes from the animal or vegetable sources and therefore is one of those substances known as "organic," and, like many other of the organic compounds, it consists of carbon, hydrogen and oxygen. Nature has a marvellous way of combining these same three things together in many various ways to form many widely different substances and if, to such a compound, we can add a little nitrogen, we usually get an explosive. Thus, the glycerine, with some nitrogen from the nitric acid, becomes nitro-glycerine, a most ferocious and excitable explosive, the basis of several of those explosives without which warfare as we know it to-day would be impossible. CHAPTER II GUNPOWDER AND ITS MODERN EQUIVALENTS The origin of gunpowder appears to be lost in antiquity. At all events it has been in use for many centuries and is still made in many countries. Most boys have tried to make it at some time or other and with varying degrees of success. Such experiments generally lead to a glorious blaze, a delightfully horrid smell and no harm to anyone, the experimenter owing his safety to his invariable lack of complete success, for although other and better explosives have superseded it for many purposes it is capable of doing a lot of harm when it is well made. It consists of a mixture of charcoal, sulphur and saltpetre ground up very fine and mixed very intimately together. The mixture is wetted and pressed into cakes and dried, after which it is broken up into small pieces. The precise proportions of the various materials seem to vary a great deal in different countries, but generally speaking there is about 75 per cent of saltpetre (or to give it its scientific name, nitrate of potash), 15 per cent of charcoal and 10 per cent of sulphur. Now gunpowder, like all explosives, is simply some thing or mixture of things which is capable of burning very quickly. When we light the fire we set going the process which we call combustion, or burning, and, as we know from our own experience, that process causes heat to be generated. What takes place in the fire-grate is that the carbon of the coal enters into combination with oxygen from the air, the two together forming a new compound called "carbonic acid gas." There is nothing lost or destroyed in this process, the carbon and oxygen simply changing into the new substance, and could we weigh the gas produced we should find that it agreed precisely with the weight of the carbon and oxygen consumed. For the purpose for which we require the fire, namely, to heat the room, the chief feature about this process is not what is formed in the shape of gas, for that simply goes off up the chimney, but the heat which is liberated. We believe that in some mysterious way the heat is locked up in the coal. Latent is the term we use, which means hidden: in other words we believe that the heat is hidden in the coal: we cannot feel it or perceive it in any way, but it comes out when we let the carbon combine with the oxygen. Why these two things combine at all is one of those mysteries which may never be solved. We have theories on the subject, but all we really know is that under certain conditions if they be in contact with one another they will combine, apparently for the simple reason that it is their nature so to do. When we apply the match to the fire all we do is to set up the conditions under which the carbon and oxygen are able to follow their natural instincts, so to speak. A coal fire, as we all know, burns slowly, for the simple reason that it is only at the surface of the lumps that carbon and oxygen are in contact. If we grind up the coal into a fine powder and then blow it into a cloud, so that every tiny particle is surrounded with air, a spark will cause an explosion. That is how these terrible explosions in coal-pits are caused. This is sometimes seen on a small scale when one shakes the empty fire-shovel after putting coal on the fire to get rid of the fine dust adhering to it and to save making a mess in the fender. That little cloud of fine dust will often burst into flame like a mild explosion. We see from this that to make an explosion we require fuel, just as we do to make a fire: but we need that it shall be very intimately mixed with oxygen, so that all of it can burn up in practically a single instant. Now in gunpowder we get these conditions fulfilled. We have the carbon in the shape of charcoal, we also have some sulphur which likewise burns readily, and we have saltpetre which contains oxygen. Thus, you see, we do not need to go to the air for the oxygen, for the gunpowder possesses it already, locked up in the saltpetre. Moreover, we can see now why it is so important for all the materials to be ground up very fine, for it is only by so doing that we can ensure that every particle of charcoal or sulphur shall have particles of saltpetre close by ready to furnish oxygen at a moment's notice. Another thing to be observed, for it lets us into the great key to the manufacture of nearly all explosives, is the scientific name of saltpetre. It is "nitrate of potassium," and all substances whose names begin with "nitr-" contain nitrogen: while the termination "ate" signifies the presence of oxygen. We need the oxygen to make the explosion but we do not need the nitrogen, yet the latter has to be present for without it the oxygen would be too slow in getting to work. Nitrogen is one of the strangest substances on earth. Extremely lazy itself, it has the knack of hustling its companions, particularly oxygen, and making them work with tremendous fury. Whenever we get the lazy gas nitrogen to enter into a combination with other things we may confidently look for extraordinary activity of some sort. So when we put a light to a quantity of gunpowder we set up those conditions under which the carbon and oxygen can combine, and at the same moment our lazy friend the nitrogen turns out his partner oxygen from the nitrate in which they were till then combined and a sudden burning is the result. The solid gunpowder is suddenly changed into a volume of hot gas 2500 times as great. That is to say, one cubic inch of gunpowder changes suddenly into 2500 cubic inches of gas. That sudden expansion to 2500 times its volume is what we term an explosion. If it takes place in an enclosed space so that the gas formed wants to expand but cannot, the result is a pressure of about forty tons per square inch. If that enclosed space were the interior of a gun, that force of forty tons per square inch would be available for driving out the projectile. Now, gunpowder is still used for sporting purposes and also for some special purposes in warfare, but it has the great disadvantage that it makes a lot of smoke, so that the enemy would be easily able to locate the guns were it to be used in them. As we know so well, by the messages from France, guns and rifles drop their shells and bullets apparently from nowhere and are extremely difficult to locate. That is owing to the use of improved powders one of the great features of which is their smokelessness. The reason why gunpowder makes a dense smoke, is because the burning which takes place is very incomplete. Therefore, by some such means as a more intimate mixture of the materials a better and more complete burning must be brought about. One of the best known of the new powders (they are all spoken of as powders, whatever their form, since they have taken the place of the old gunpowder) is nitro-glycerine, the basis of which is glycerine. The way in which we obtain this useful material has already been explained. It consists of carbon, a lot of hydrogen and some oxygen. These are not merely mixed together but are in combination, just as oxygen and hydrogen are combined in water. Carbon and hydrogen will both combine with oxygen and will give off heat in the process, but in glycerine they are already happily united together and so glycerine itself is no use as an explosive. If, however, we bring nitric acid and sulphuric acid into contact with it a pair of new partnerships is set up, one being water and the other a compound containing carbon and hydrogen, a lot of oxygen and, most important of all, some of that disturbing, restless though lazy nitrogen. This is nitro-glycerine, a particularly furious explosive, for that curious nitrogen seems to be so uncomfortable in his new surroundings that at the smallest provocation he will break up the whole combination and then there will be a mass of free atoms of carbon, hydrogen and oxygen, all seeking new partners, just right for a glorious explosion. So furious and untamed is this stuff that it was almost useless until the famous Nobel hit upon the idea of taming it down by mixing it with an earth called Kieselguhr, which reduces its sensitiveness sufficiently to make it a very safe explosive to use. To this mixture Nobel gave the name of dynamite. It is interesting at this point to compare the action of this typical modern explosive with that of the older gunpowder. The latter is only a mixture: the former is a chemical compound. The smallest particle of material in the gunpowder is a little lump containing millions of molecules and still more of atoms: when the nitrogen has broken up the original nitro-glycerine, just before the explosion actually takes place, we have a mixture of _single atoms_. Thus the mixture is far more intimate in the latter case and the burning is therefore quicker and more thorough. [Illustration: MACHINE-GUN _versus_ RIFLE. This illustrates the rapidity and accuracy with which the modern rifle can be used. Sergeant O'Leary, V.C., tackled a gun crew of five and killed them all before they had time to slew their gun round--a striking contrast to the "Brown Bess" of a hundred years ago.] Another well-known explosive is gun-cotton. Surely this must be a fancy name, for what can harmless, simple cotton have to do in connection with guns. It is a perfectly genuine descriptive name, however. It seems very strange at first, but it is perfectly true that nitrogen, as it turned glycerine into dynamite, can also turn cotton into gun-cotton. Cotton consists mainly of cellulose, a compound of carbon, hydrogen and oxygen, happily combined together and therefore showing, as we well know from experience, no tendency whatever to change into anything else, least of all to "go off bang." But that state of things is very much changed when we have induced nitrogen to take a hand in the game. In actual practice, cotton waste, pure and clean, is dipped into a mixture of sulphuric and nitric acids whereby the cellulose becomes changed into nitro-cellulose, just as a similar process changes glycerine into nitro-glycerine. The whole process of manufacture is of course far more than that simple dipping, but that is the fundamental fact of it all. The rest is concerned with getting rid of the superfluous acid, tearing the stuff into pulp and pressing it into blocks. It is probably the safest of explosives, since it can be kept wet, in which case the danger of an accidental explosion is practically nil, provided reasonable care be taken. Even when dry, it behaves in a very kindly way. If hit with a hammer, it only burns for a moment just at the point struck. If ignited with a red-hot rod, it burns but does not explode, unless it is enclosed. The burning, that is to say, is not sufficiently rapid to constitute an explosion. On the other hand, if it be exploded by a detonator, by which is meant a small quantity of a very powerful explosive, such as fulminate of mercury, fired close to it, it then goes off with a violence which leaves little to be desired. It would be better still could we persuade a little more oxygen to enter into its composition, for as it is there is not quite enough to burn up the other matters completely. That, however, does not cause smoke, since the combustion is complete enough to change everything into invisible gases. With more oxygen more heat might be generated and the power of the explosion be made greater. Still, even as it is, the explosion of gun-cotton has been estimated by a high authority to produce a pressure of 160 tons per square inch, four times as much as gunpowder. Nitro-glycerine has the advantage of a rather larger proportion of oxygen to carbon, resulting in its being rather more energetic. Yet another class of explosive is made from Coal Tar. This is a by-product in the manufacture of gas for lighting and also in the manufacture of coke for industrial purposes. It comes from the retorts along with the gas in a gaseous form but condenses into a black liquid in the pipes and more particularly in an arrangement of cooled pipes called a condenser specially placed to intercept it. In the chemist's eyes it is the most interesting of liquids, for it is full of mysteries and possibilities. The most wonderful achievements of chemistry have it for their raw material and there is still scope for much more in the same direction. If the tar be gently heated in a closed vessel it will evaporate and the vapour can be led to another vessel, there cooled and converted back into a liquid. This looks rather like doing work for nothing, but the various liquids, of which tar is a mixture, evaporate at different temperatures, so that this furnishes a means of separating them. The first liquid thus procured is known as coal tar naphtha, and if it be again distilled it can be subdivided further, the first liquid separated from it being known as Benzine. This, again, is another of those almost numberless things which consist of carbon and hydrogen. Also, like the other similar substances which we have been discussing, it can, if treated with nitric acid, be made to take into partnership a quantity of oxygen and nitrogen. Thus we get nitro-benzene. We can repeat the process, when it will take more and become di-nitro-benzene. Again we can repeat it, thus producing tri-nitro-benzene. The second liquid separated from coal tar naphtha is called Toluene, which again is composed of carbon and hydrogen in slightly different proportions. Like its confrère benzene it, too, can be treated with nitric acid, becoming nitro-toluene and then di-nitro-toluene and finally tri-nitro-toluene, the deadly explosive of which we read in the papers as T.N.T. After the naphtha has been removed from the tar another substance is obtained called Phenol, which in a prepared form is familiar to us all as the disinfectant Carbolic Acid. It also can be treated with nitric acid, to produce tri-nitro-phenol, otherwise known as Picric Acid, which after a little further treatment becomes the famous "Lyddite." Most of the actual explosives used in warfare are prepared from one or more of the above-mentioned compounds. For example, nitro-glycerine and gun-cotton, having been dissolved in acetone (another compound of carbon, hydrogen and oxygen) and a little vaseline added, form a soft gelatinous substance which on being squeezed through a fine hole comes out looking like a cord or string, and hence is called Cordite. Other explosives are finished in the form of sheets, the dissolved gun-cotton or whatever it may be being rolled between hot rollers which give it the convenient form of sheets and at the same time evaporate the solvent. By combining these various substances various characteristics can be given to the finished explosive. For instance, the one which drives the shell from the gun, known as the propellant, must not be too sudden in its action. It must push steadily. Its purpose is to drive the shell not to burst the gun, wherefore its action must be comparatively slow and continuous so long as the shell is still in the gun. It must "follow through" as the golf player would put it. The charge in the shell, however, needs to go off with the greatest possible violence so as to blow the shell to pieces and to scatter the fragments so that they do the maximum of damage. Those explosives, whose function is thus to burst with a sudden shock, are called High Explosives, as distinguished from the propellants which produce a more or less sustained push. The great fundamental principle which enables large quantities of these powerfully explosive substances to be handled with comparative safety involves the use of two different substances in combination. That which is used in quantity and which actually does the work is made comparatively insensitive, indeed in some cases it is very insensitive, so that it can safely travel by train, by ship and by road and also may be handled by the soldiers and sailors with very little risk. Some of these compounds can be struck or set on fire with impunity. They are none the less violent, however, when, by the agency of a suitable detonator they are caused to explode. The detonator, of course, has to be very sensitive indeed, but it need only be used in very small quantities, so that by itself it, too, is comparatively safe. Fulminate of mercury is often employed for this purpose--a compound based upon mercury but in which nitrogen of course figures largely. Thus, there are two things necessary for the successful explosion, one of which is powerful but insensitive, while the other is highly sensitive but relatively harmless since it is never allowed to exist in large quantities, and as far as possible these are kept apart until the last moment. One other thing may be mentioned in regard to this matter which is of the greatest importance. That is the necessity for the utmost uniformity in these various compounds, so that when the gunners put a charge into a gun they can rely upon it to throw the shell exactly as its predecessor did. Modern artillery seeks to throw shell after shell within a small area which would clearly be quite impossible if one charge were liable to be stronger or weaker than another, for we can easily see that the more powerful the impetus given the farther will the shell go. To secure this uniformity the greatest care is taken at all stages of the manufacture, and various batches of the same stuff are tested and mixed, and any of them turning out a little too strong are placed with some a little too weak, so that their faults may neutralize each other. By such methods as these a remarkable degree of uniformity is attained, the result of which we see when we read in the papers of the wonderfully accurate gunnery of which our soldiers and sailors are capable. In conclusion, a word of warning may be appropriate. Reference has been made above to the safety of modern explosives in the absence of the detonators, but do not let that lead anyone to take liberties. Should any reader come into possession of any of these materials, even in the smallest quantities, let him treat it with the utmost respect, for although what has been said about safety is quite correct, it only means comparative safety, there can be no absolute safety where these substances are concerned. CHAPTER III RADIUM IN WAR When we remember how all forms of scientific knowledge were called upon to help in the great struggle, it is not surprising to hear that, although in a comparatively humble way, Radium has had to do its share. Now radium is one of the most, if not actually the most, remarkable substance known. About a generation ago scientific men, or some of them at all events, were getting rather cocksure. Of course they were quite right when they realized how much was known about things and what great strides had been made during the years through which they had lived. They were proud of the achievements of their scientific friends, for I am not imputing personal vanity to anyone, and they had reason to be proud. They made the mistake, however, of thinking that in one direction at least they had learnt all that there was to be known. The present generation of scientific men seem to be almost too prone to go to the other extreme and to dwell rather much on how little we know now and the wonderful things which are going to be discovered in time. But that is by the way. A generation ago men seem to have pretty well made up their minds that they knew all about atoms. They said that everything was made up of atoms, that the atoms could not be subdivided nor changed into anything else except temporarily by combination with other atoms, and that when these combinations were broken up the atoms remained just as before, quite unchanged. They believed that the atoms were unchangeable and everlasting. Professor Tyndall, in a famous address, referred to this in somewhat flowery language, telling his hearers that the atoms would be still the same when they and he had "melted into the infinite azure of the past," which a wag translated into the slang expression of the time, "till all is blue." Now not very long after Professor Tyndall made this historic speech Professor Henri Becquerel, of Paris, was trying some experiments with phosphorescent materials, that is, materials which glow in the darkness. In the course of these experiments he used some photographic plates upon which, to his surprise, he found marks which he thought ought not to have been there. Thinking at first that he had accidentally "fogged" his plates, as every photographer has done at some time or other, he tried his experiments again with special care but still he got the mysterious marks. Those marks were caused by some of those "unchangeable and everlasting" atoms deliberately and of their own accord blowing themselves to bits. For the celebrated Frenchman was not content to let the matter of those mysterious marks rest: he wanted to know what caused them and he did not desist until he was on the track of the secret. It appeared after careful investigation that they were made by the action of something in some of the ore of the metal "uranium" which he had been using. Moreover, this something evidently had the power of penetrating through the walls of the dark-slide to the plate within. Finally, it was tracked down to the uranium itself which was unquestionably proved to be giving off something in the nature of invisible light, or at all events invisible rays, of strange penetrative power. A little later it was observed that certain ores of uranium seemed to give off these rays more freely than would be accounted for by the amount of uranium present, from which fact it was inferred that there must be something else present in the ore capable of giving off the rays much more powerfully than uranium can. Madame Curie ultimately found out two such substances, one of which she called, after her native land, Polonium (for she is a Pole), and the other Radium. It is the latter which is responsible for by far the greater part of the rays formed. The rays are invisible, but they affect a photographic plate in the same way that light does. They also make air into a conductor of electricity and if allowed to impinge upon a surface coated with a suitable substance they cause it to glow. This spontaneous giving off of rays is now spoken of by the general term of "radio-activity," and it has grown into an important branch of science. A number of other substances have been found to exhibit the same peculiar ray-forming powers, notably Thorium, one of the components of the incandescent gas mantle by the prolonged application of a fragment of which to a photographic plate an impression can be obtained due to the rays. What, then, are these rays? It is found that they are of three kinds, not that they vary from time to time, but that they can be sorted out into three different sorts of rays which are given off simultaneously all the time. The first sort are stopped by a sheet of paper, the second passing easily through a thick metal plate, while the third appear to be identical with X-rays. For convenience the three sorts are termed Alpha, Beta and Gamma rays, respectively, after the first three letters of the Greek alphabet. Further, the Alpha rays prove to be a torrent of tiny particles about the size of atoms, indeed if they be collected the gas Helium is obtained, so that evidently they are helium atoms, and since that is one of those substances whose molecules consist of a single atom each they are also molecules of helium. No doubt the reason why they are so easily stopped by a piece of paper is because being complete atoms they are large, huge indeed, compared with the particles which form the Beta rays, for they are apparently those same electrons which are found in the X-ray tube, and which are at least 2000 times smaller than the smallest atom. When the electrons in the vacuum tube are suddenly brought to a standstill X-rays are given off and in like manner X-rays no doubt would be given off when they start on their journey, providing that they started suddenly enough. Hence it is the starting or sudden explosion-like ejection of the Beta particles which is believed to give rise to the Gamma rays. The strength or intensity of the rays can be measured very conveniently by their action in making air conductive to electricity, for which purpose a very beautiful but simple instrument called an Electroscope is employed. It consists generally of a glass-sided box or else a bottle with a large stopper, consisting of sulphur or some other particularly good insulator. Through this a wire passes down into the inside of the vessel terminating in a vertical flat strip to the upper end of which is attached a similar strip of gold leaf or aluminium foil. Normally the leaf hangs down close to the strip, but if the wire above the stopper be electrified by touching it with a piece of sealing-wax rubbed lightly against the coat sleeve the charge of electricity passes down into the inside and causes both strip and leaf to become so electrified that they repel each other. Owing to the non-conductivity of the air in its normal condition the leaf will, if the insulation of the stopper be good, remain projecting almost horizontally for some time until, as it loses its charge by a slow leakage, it gradually settles down close to the strip. If, however, a piece of radium be brought near while it is sticking out, the leaf will fall almost instantly. X-rays have a similar effect even from several feet or yards away. The intensity of the radio-activity of different substances can be compared by noting the difference in the rate at which the leaf falls under the influence of each. What is happening, then, to the atoms of radium, which causes them to show these curious effects and to give off these strange rays? To give any intelligent answer to that question we are bound to assume that which the older generation of scientists thought impossible, namely, that atoms can be broken up. Then we are forced to believe that the atoms of this particular substance radium are of a peculiarly flimsy unstable sort, so that they cannot permanently hold their parts together but are liable to break up, as far as we can see through their own inherent weakness and under the influence of disruptive forces at work within themselves. We must remember, however, that the tiniest speck of matter which we can see contains a number of atoms of such a size as to be quite beyond the grasp of our minds. To give a rough idea of it in figures is useless as no one can comprehend the real value of a figure or two followed by probably from a dozen to twenty "noughts." It is best to content ourselves with the general statement that a speck of matter only just visible to the eye contains an exceedingly vast number of atoms. Of course a speck of radium is no exception to this and we must remember, too, that all of them do not break up at once. Indeed, the number breaking up at any time are actually countable by means of a very simple contrivance and a sensitive electrometer. Consequently, in view of the enormous number present and the comparatively small number breaking up at any moment, it is not surprising to hear that, so it is estimated, the process can go on for an almost indefinite number of years, certainly for hundreds. There are, moreover, certain facts which we need not go into here from which the above fact can be clearly inferred, quite apart from what has been said about the vast numbers of the atoms. It seems as if the uranium atoms break up first, giving off helium atoms and electrons and leaving an intermediate substance called Ionium which in its turn breaks up giving off the same things again and leaving radium. That in its turn goes through a complicated series of changes still giving off the same alpha particles or atoms of helium and electrons until, it is suggested, it finally settles down into the simple commonplace metal lead of which we make bullets and water pipes and such-like ordinary things. We see then that all through its history--its radio-active history at any rate--this stuff is throwing off atoms of helium at a very high velocity (about 50,000 miles a second), and if it be enclosed in anything this enclosing vessel or substance will be subjected to a continual bombardment by the alpha particles. Now just as a piece of iron gets hot if we hammer it, so the enclosing matter is heated by the continual blows which it is receiving night and day, year in and year out, from the alpha particles. Consequently the immediate surroundings of a speck of radium are always slightly raised in temperature. Moreover, if a speck of radium be placed against a screen covered with suitable materials each particle which strikes it will make a little splash of light. At least that is what it looks like when seen through a magnifying glass, but to the naked eye there only appears a beautiful steady glow. Suppose, then, that instead of putting the speck of radiant matter in front of a screen we mix it up intimately with a fluorescent substance such as sulphide of zinc, we then get the same conditions in a slightly different form. Each particle of the substance serves as a tiny screen which glows every time a particle hits it. Thus is produced a luminous paint which glows by night, suitable for painting the dials of instruments which have to be used in the dark. No doubt some of my readers will have experienced the strangely mingled delight and horror of seeing a Zeppelin in the night sky intent on dropping murder and death on the sleeping civilians of a peaceful town or city. Some too may have witnessed the later acts in that wonderful drama, when, beside the silvery monster illuminated by the beams of the searchlight there must have been, though quite invisible, a little aeroplane manned by one man or at most two. That aeroplane was, no doubt, fitted with instruments at which the pilot glanced now and then and which he was able to see and read because of the tiny speck of radium mixed into the paint. The little alpha particles gave him the light by which to see, but they gave no help to the Germans on the Zeppelin. Hence, in due time he did his work and the gigantic balloon, the pride of the Kaiser and his hordes, fell to the ground, a blazing wreck. How he did it I cannot tell, but of this I am sure, that most probably radium helped him by making luminous and visible the instruments which guided him. But probably it has rendered and will still render us even greater services in the way of helping to repair the damages to our injured manhood. How many men came back from the war crippled with rheumatism because of the hardships through which they went. That disease is believed to be due to a substance which mingles with the blood and which, although usually liquid and harmless sometimes changes into a solid and settles in the joints. Now it is believed that radium properly administered will act upon that solid and cause it to change back into its liquid form again, thereby curing the disease. Certainly many of the mineral springs at such places as Bath and Buxton give forth a water which shows a certain amount of radio-activity and it may be that which gives those waters their healing properties. If so, we may look forward with confidence to the time when radio-activity will be induced to play a still more successful part in meeting this painful and widespread illness. Then, of the other ills which will inevitably arise in our men through the hardships which they have endured are sure to be some of the cancerous type, many of which appear to succumb to treatment by radium. If a very small quantity indeed be carried for a few days in a pocket it will imprint itself upon the skin beneath as if it burnt the tissues. It is never advisable, therefore, to carry radium in the pocket without special precautions. One cannot help feeling, however, that in that little fact is a hint of usefulness when the best modes of application have been discovered, for as a means of safely and painlessly burning away some undesirable growth it would seem to be without a rival. It is said, too, that it has the strange power of discriminating between the normal and the abnormal, attacking the latter but leaving the former, so that when applied, say, to some abnormal growth like cancer it may be able to remove it without harmful effect upon the surrounding tissues. Of this, however, it is too soon to write with confidence. It has not been known long enough for our doctors to find out the best modes of use, but that will come with time: meanwhile there are indications that in all probability it will render good service to mankind. CHAPTER IV A GOOD SERVANT, THOUGH A BAD MASTER One morning during the war the whole British nation was startled to learn that Mr. Lloyd George, then the Minister of Munitions, had taken over a large number of distilleries. Could it be that he, a teetotaller and temperance advocate, was going to supply all his workers with whiskey? Or was he going to close the places so as to stop the supply of that tempting drink? Neither of these suggestions was his real reason. What he wanted the distilleries for was to make alcohol for the war, not for drinking purposes but for the very many uses which only alcohol can fulfil in most important manufactures. Probably alcohol is the next important liquid to water. For example, certain parts of shells have to be varnished and the only satisfactory way to make varnish is to dissolve certain gums in alcohol. The spirit makes the solid gum for the time being into a liquid which we can spread with a brush, yet, after being spread, it evaporates and passes off into the air, leaving behind a beautiful coating of gum. That is how all varnishing is done, the alcohol forming the vehicle in which the solid gum is for the moment carried and by which it is applied. It is far and away the most suitable liquid for the purpose, and without it varnishing would be very difficult and unsatisfactory. Hence one need for alcohol, to carry on the war. Then again some of the most important explosives are solid or semi-solid, and yet they require to be mixed in order to form the various "powders" in use by our gunners. The best way to bring about this mixture is to dissolve the two components in alcohol, thereby forming them both into liquids which can be readily mixed. Afterwards the alcohol evaporates; indeed, one of its great virtues for this and similar purposes is that it quietly takes itself off when it has done its work like a very well-drilled servant. What then is this precious liquid and how is it produced? In order to answer that question it is necessary first to state that there are a whole family of substances called "alcohols," all of which are composed of carbon, hydrogen and oxygen in certain proportions. There are also a number of kindred substances also, not exactly brothers but first cousins, so to speak, which because of their resemblance to this important family have names terminating in "ol." They owe their existence to the wonderful behaviour of the atoms of carbon. In order to obtain some sort of system whereby the various combinations of carbon can be simply explained chemists picture each carbon atom as being armed with four little links or hooks with which it is able to grapple, as it were, and hold on to other atoms. Each hydrogen atom, likewise, has its hook, but only one instead of four. Now it is easy to picture to ourselves an atom of carbon in the middle with its hooks pointing out north, south, east and west with a hydrogen atom linked on to each. That gives us a picture of the molecule of Methane, the gas which forms the chief constituent of coal gas such as we burn in our homes. Methane is also given off by petroleum and it is the cause of the explosions in coal mines, being known to the miners as "firedamp." It is the first of a long series of substances which the chemist called paraffins. The first, as you see, consists of one of carbon and four of hydrogen. Add another of carbon and two more of hydrogen and you get the second "Ethane." Add the same again and you get the third, Propane, and so on until you can reach a substance consisting of thirty-five parts of carbon and seventy-two parts of hydrogen. All we need trouble about, however, is the first two, Methane and Ethane. We have pictured to ourselves the molecule of methane: let us do the same with ethane. Imagine two carbon atoms side by side linked together or hand in hand. Each will be using one of its hooks to grasp one hook of its brother atom. Hence each will have three hooks to spare on to which we can hook a hydrogen atom. Thus we get two of carbon and six of hydrogen neatly and prettily linked up together. The atoms form an interesting little pattern and to build up the various paraffin molecules with a pencil and paper has all the attractions of a puzzle or game. All you have to do is to add a fresh atom of carbon alongside the others and then attach an atom of hydrogen to each available unused hook. If you care to try this you will get the whole series, each one having one atom of carbon and two of hydrogen more than its predecessor. If you mix together a quantity of methane and an equal quantity of chlorine, which I have shown you in another chapter how to get from common salt, a change takes place, for in each molecule of methane one hydrogen atom becomes detached and an atom of chlorine takes its place. How or why this change occurs we do not know. It is a fact that the chlorine has this power to oust the hydrogen and there we must leave it, for the present at any rate. The substance so formed is called methyl chloride. In another chapter reference has been made to that substance which is made from common salt and which is so important in so many manufactures called caustic soda. If we bring some of it into contact with the methyl chloride the chlorine is punished for its rudeness in displacing the hydrogen; it is paid back in its own coin, for it is in turn displaced not this time by a single atom but by a little partnership called "hydroxyl" one atom of hydrogen and one of oxygen acting together. We can again form a neat little picture of what happens. The oxygen atom has two hooks, one of which it gives to its friend the hydrogen atom and thus they go about hand-in-hand, the oxygen having one unused hook with which to hook on to something else. In this case it hooks on to that particular hook from which it pushes the chlorine. We have thus seen two changes take place. First, the hydrogen is displaced by the chlorine: then the chlorine is turned out and its place taken by the hydroxyl. And during both these changes the central carbon atom and its three hydrogen partners have remained unaffected. Those four atoms are called the methyl group, and a methyl group combined with a hydroxyl group forms _methyl alcohol_. Similar changes can be brought about with Ethane as with Methane, and in them the two carbon atoms and the five hydrogen remain unchanged, whence they too are regarded as a group, the Ethyl group, and an ethyl group hooked on to a hydroxyl group gives us a molecule of _ethyl alcohol_. These groups of which we have been speaking never exist separately except at the moment of change, but in the wonderful changes which the chemist is able to bring about the atoms forming these groups seem to have a fondness for keeping together and moving together from one substance into another. In a word, they behave as if they were each a single atom and they are called by the name of Radicles; the word simply means a little root. The methyl radicle and the ethyl radicle, since they form the basis of two of the paraffin series, are called paraffin radicles, so that we can describe this useful alcohol as a paraffin radicle with a hydroxyl radicle hooked on to it. If we use the methyl radicle we get methyl alcohol: if we use the ethyl radicle we get ethyl alcohol. Now ethyl alcohol is the spirit which is contained in all strong drink. Whiskey has as much as 40 per cent and brandy and rum about the same, while ale has only about 6 per cent. All of them may be regarded as impure forms of ethyl alcohol, the various impurities giving to each its particular taste. Ethyl alcohol, too, is what is sold at chemists' shops as "spirits of wine," where also we can purchase that which is familiar as "methylated spirits," whereby there hangs a tale. All Governments regard alcohol for drinking as a fit subject for taxation. When anyone buys a drink with alcohol in it a part of what he pays goes to the Government in the form of duty. On the other hand, when alcohol is used for trade purposes, for making varnish or something like that, there is no reason whatever why it should be charged with duty. But if the varnish manufacturer is to have alcohol duty-free what is to prevent him from using some of it for drinking? To get over the difficulty, that which is supplied to him or to anyone else for trade purposes is deliberately adulterated so as to make it so extremely nasty that no one is likely to want to put it in his mouth. It so happens that methyl alcohol, while as good as the other for many purposes, is horrible to the taste and so it forms a very convenient adulterant for this purpose. Therefore, when methylated spirit is sold to you for drying your photographs, the chemist gives you ethyl alcohol with enough methyl alcohol in it to make sure that neither you nor anyone else will ever want to drink it. That, then, is alcohol: a near relative of paraffin oil and also of coal gas, yet it is from neither of these that we get it. The changes described above enable you to realize what it is, but they do not tell how it is made in large quantities. Ethyl alcohol is obtained from sugar by the employment of germs or microbes. Any sort of sugar will do: it need not be sugar such as we eat. In practice the sugar is usually obtained from starch, that very common substance which forms the material of potatoes, grain of all kinds, beans and so on. There is a kindly little germ which will quite readily turn starch into sugar for us if we give it the chance. The maltster starts the process. He gets some grain, and spreading it out in a damp condition upon his floor sets it a-growing. As soon as it has just started to grow, however, he transfers it to his kiln, where by heating it he kills the young plants. As is well known, every seed contains the food to nourish the little growing plant until it is strong enough to draw its supplies from the soil and the food thus provided for the young wheat plant is starch, which, when it is ready for it, it turns into sugar. The little shoot lives on sugar and the maltster and distiller conspire to steal that sugar intended for the baby plants and turn it into alcohol. So the little plant liberates by some wonderful means a material called diastase, which has the power of changing starch into sugar. It does it, of course, for the purpose of providing its own necessary food, but the maltster does not want the process to go too far: he only wants to produce the diastase, and that is why he kills the plants, after which he has finished with the matter and hands the "malted" grain or "malt" over to the distiller for the next process. The distiller mixes the malt with warm water, whereupon the diastase commences the conversion of the starch of the grain. At this stage fresh grain may be added and potatoes, indeed almost anything composed largely of starch for the diastase to work upon. The process goes on until, in time, the liquid consists very largely of sugar dissolved in water, which is strained away from what is left of the grain, etc. Malt sugar is very similar to, but not quite the same as, cane sugar. It consists of twelve parts of carbon, twenty-two of hydrogen and eleven of oxygen. It is an interesting little puzzle to sketch those atoms out on paper, each with its proper number of hooks, and see how they can be combined together. Malt sugar, milk sugar and cane sugar all consist of the same three elements in the same proportions and the difference between them is no doubt due to the different ways in which the atoms can be hooked up together. Yeast is next added to the liquid, upon which the process of fermentation is set up, the tiny living cells of the yeast plant producing a substance which is able to change the sugar into alcohol. The alcohol thus formed is, of course, combined with water, but it can be separated from it by gentle heating since it passes off into vapour at a lower temperature than does water. Thus the vapour first arising from the mixture is caught and cooled whereby the liquid alcohol is obtained. This operation, called fractional distillation, has to be repeated if alcohol quite free from water is required, in addition to which the attraction which quicklime has for water is called into play to coax the last remnant of water from the other. And now, how about the methyl alcohol? That is obtained in quite a different way, by heating wood and collecting the vapours given off by it. Hence it is often called "wood spirit." As a matter of fact, at least two very valuable substances are obtained by this operation, methyl alcohol and acetone. The vapours given off by the wood are cooled, whereupon tar is formed while upon it there floats a dark liquid which contains the wood spirit, acetic acid and acetone. To capture the acetic acid lime is added to the mixture, and since there is a natural affinity between them, the acetic acid and lime combine into a solid which remains behind when the whole mass is suitably heated. What comes over in the form of vapour is a mixture of water, acetone and wood spirit. The former is enticed away by the use of quicklime, while the other two are separated by the process of fractional distillation already referred to. Now let me ask you to form another little picture, either in your mind or with paper and pencil. Imagine two methyl radicles, each, let me remind you, a carbon atom with three hydrogen atoms hooked on and one spare hook. Also imagine one atom of oxygen with its two hooks outstretched like two arms, and just link one radicle on to each. Then you have the picture of methyl ether. All the ethers are formed by taking two of the paraffin radicles and linking them together by means of the two hooks of an oxygen atom. The ether which is so largely used in hospitals for wounded soldiers is _ethyl_ ether, consisting of two ethyl radicles joined by oxygen. How it is made we will come to in a moment, but as you see already it is a close relative of alcohol. Now from methyl ether take away the central oxygen and in its place put carbon. This atom will have two hooks to spare which it can employ to hold on to the two hooks of the oxygen. The result is a molecule of acetone. This is used as a solvent in a similar manner to alcohol for many purposes, and there was a great demand for it no doubt during the war. One interesting use of acetone is in connection with the gas acetylene. Of great use both for lighting and also in conjunction with oxygen for welding and cutting metals, this gas suffers from the disadvantage that it cannot be compressed into cylinders and carried about as oxygen can. It can, however, be dissolved in acetone. The cylinders in which it is carried are therefore filled with coke saturated with acetone and then when the acetylene is pressed in it dissolves, coming out of solution again as soon as the pressure is released. In this dissolved condition it is quite safe to carry about. For a moment let us turn back to the commencement of the chapter to the subject of methane. When mixed with chlorine, it will be remembered, one hydrogen atom gave place to a chlorine atom. If the process be repeated another hydrogen atom will be displaced in the same way, while a further repetition will result in the removal of a third, when there will be a carbon atom in the centre with three chlorine and one hydrogen hooked on to it. With that picture in your mind's eye you will be contemplating the molecule of that wonderful and beneficent substance, chloroform. When we think of the numberless operations which have been carried out by the surgeons in the course of this last war we realize a little how great is the total sum of pain and suffering which has been saved through the agency of this substance, this simple neat little arrangement of five tiny atoms. Now that again is obtained in manufacture from alcohol. Alcohol, bleaching powder and water are mixed and then distilled, by which of course is meant that the mixture is evaporated by heat and the vapour collected and cooled back into liquid again. The liquid so obtained is chloroform. Hardly less important than this, in our military hospitals, is ether, to which reference has already been made. It, too, is manufactured from alcohol. The alcohol, together with sulphuric acid, is placed in a still and heated, the vapour given off being led to another vessel and there condensed. The liquid thus obtained is ether and so long as the supply of fresh alcohol is kept up the production of ether goes on continuously. The sulphuric acid does not disappear and so does not need to be replaced, from which it would appear as if it might just as well not be there, but that is not the case. It plays the part of what is called a "catalyst," one of the curiosities of chemistry. There are many instances in which two things will combine only in the presence of a third which appears to be itself unaffected. This third substance is a catalyst. It reminds one of the clergyman at a wedding who unites others but remains unchanged himself. In conclusion, one may mention that many of the medicines with which our injured men were coaxed back to health and strength owe their existence to alcohol, for many drugs are obtained from vegetable substances by dissolving out a part of the herb with alcohol. Thus, as a drink, it is unquestionably very harmful. Indeed, in that way it probably kills more people per year than its use in the manufacture of explosives caused in the worst year of the war. Yet it also furnishes chloroform, ether and medicinal drugs and performs a whole host of useful services to mankind. Finally, if oil and coal should ever run short it is quite prepared to run our engines for us. Truly it is a wonderful substance. CHAPTER V MINES, SUBMARINE AND SUBTERRANEAN The word mine in its military sense originally meant just the same as it does in the ordinary way, but like many other words it has got twisted into new uses the connection of which with the original meaning is very obscure. One of the most striking of these verbal puzzles is the submarine _mine_. There seems at first sight not the remotest connection between the floating barrel of explosives concealed beneath the water and what we ordinarily call a mine. The explanation of this is that the term has acquired this meaning after passing through a series of stages. When soldiers "mine" for the purpose of blowing up their enemies they dig a hole in the ground, and conceal therein a quantity of explosives so arranged that they blow up when the enemy pass over or near. The operation of digging the hole in the earth is clearly akin to the work of the miner and so such is quite appropriately called a "mine." The hole may be dug from the surface downwards, the marks of excavation being afterwards covered up and obliterated as much as possible. In other cases the hole may be a tunnel starting from a trench and driving towards the enemy's position. The idea, of course, is to burrow until the end of the tunnel is just under some important part of the enemy's works or fortifications. When the end of the tunnel has reached the right spot explosives can be placed there, the tunnel partly stopped to prevent the explosion from driving back upon those who make it and the whole fired at the desired moment. This tunnelling is also called "sapping" and the tunnel itself a sap. Military engineers are often spoken of as "sappers and miners" as if the two things were clearly different, but as a matter of fact both are often used to describe the same thing. Roughly, we may say that a mine which stays still in the hope that the enemy will walk upon it is a mine proper, while a mine which itself progresses towards the enemy until it ultimately goes off beneath him, is a "sap" and the making of such a thing is "sapping." Or we might say that sapping is under-mining, in which sense we use it in general conversation when we speak of something sapping a man's strength. Soldiers speak of their engineering comrades as "sappers" just as they term artillerymen "gunners," but the only reason why they call them by that name instead of miners is because the latter is a well-known term applied to those who work in coal mines. A subterranean mine, then, is nothing more or less than a hole in the ground, made in any way that may be convenient, filled with explosives and fired at a suitable time to do damage to the enemy. In other words, it is simply some explosive _concealed in the ground_ with means for firing it, and when the sailor _conceals explosives in the sea_ so that they may blow up the enemy's ships, he borrows his military comrades' term and calls it a "mine" too. Counter-mining is the enemy's reply to mining. Suppose I was foolish enough to wish to blow up my neighbour who lives in the house opposite to mine. I might start from my cellar and dig a tunnel under the road until I knew that I had arrived under his dwelling. But suppose that he got to know of my little scheme: he could then try counter-mining. In this case it would mean starting a tunnel of his own from his cellar towards my tunnel: then, as soon as the two tunnels had come sufficiently near to each other, he could let off his explosives thereby wrecking my tunnel and putting an end to my operations while yet I was only half-way across the road. Thus he would stop me before I had had time to harm him, and since he need only tunnel just far enough to render the necessary explosion harmless to his house, while I to succeed would have to tunnel right across the road, the man who is counter-mining always has a slight natural advantage over the man who is doing the mining. If only he gets to know what is going on in time he can always retaliate. All forms of land mine are improvised on the spot according to circumstances. Not so, however, with submarine mines on which much ingenuity has been expended, the mines being made in workshops ashore ready for laying and then laid by ships and sometimes by divers. Of these there are two main kinds, those which are put in place in times of peace for the protection of particular harbours and channels, and those which are simply dropped overboard from a mine-laying ship during the actual war. They all consist essentially of a case of iron or steel plates riveted together just as a steam boiler is made, in fact the cases are made in a boiler shop. The charge is gun-cotton fired by a detonator, the latter being excited by a stroke from a hammer, as in a rifle, or else by electricity. In the latter case, a tiny filament of platinum wire is in contact with the detonator, and the wire being heated by the current, just as the filament of a lamp is, the detonator is fired by the heat. Of the permanent mines whereby the entrances to important channels are protected arrangements are often made for firing by observation, that is to say, by the action of an observer ashore. Being laid by divers and securely anchored to heavy weights laying on the bottom, wires are carried from the mines to the observation station. The observer watches and fires the mines at the right moment by simply pressing a key thereby making the electrical circuit. More often, however, mines are fired by contact. Observation mines have the advantage that while they may be exploded under an enemy they will allow a friendly ship to pass in perfect safety. Contact mines, on the other hand, will afford protection against attacks by night when enemy craft may attempt to creep in under cover of darkness. [Illustration: AN ITALIAN MINE-LAYER. This photograph was taken looking down upon the deck of the ship. The mines run upon rails, and are pushed by the men towards the stern, whence they are dropped one at a time into the water. The splash indicates that one has just fallen.] Contact mines are often fired electrically, sometimes by batteries of their own inside their own cases, or else by current from the shore through wires, the circuit being completed by an automatic device of some sort actuated unwittingly by the unfortunate victim. One of these contact devices will illustrate the general character of them all. Imagine a little vessel with mercury in it: it is, generally speaking, of some insulating material, but right at the bottom is a metal stud with which the mercury makes contact. The rim may likewise be of metal or a metal rod may project downwards into it: it matters not which, for we can see at once that it is quite easy so to arrange things that whereas, while upright, the mercury shall be well clear of the upper contact, it shall when the vessel is tilted flow on to it, thereby bridging from lower contact to upper contact and completing the circuit. Of course, a mine must only go off when actually struck by a ship and not when it is gently swung to and fro by the action of tide or current in the water. That is easily arranged, for the vessel and contacts can be so shaped that contact is not made until an angle of tilt is reached which no tide or ordinary commotion of the water could bring about. It is clearly possible, too, to combine the contact and observation arrangements in such a way that contact mines can be made safe for friendly ships during the daytime. It is only necessary to adopt the shore battery arrangement already mentioned and disconnect the batteries during the day or when no enemy is in sight, restoring the connection during the darkness or in the event of hostile ships trying to rush the passage. Another interesting scheme for keeping mines safe until required is to anchor them in what is termed a "dormant" condition. This means that a loop is taken in the wire rope by which they are anchored, the loop being fastened by means of a link. This link, however, contains a small quantity of explosive which can be fired from the shore. This has the effect of breaking the link, releasing the loop and allowing the mine to float upwards to the full length of the rope. Thus the mine is down deep, well below the bottom of the biggest ship until released for action. It is doubtful whether much use is made nowadays of permanent mines of the types just described, for they have, no doubt, been largely displaced by the temporary mine which can be laid in a moment by simply being dropping overboard from a ship, but it is quite possible that some of the defences of, say, the Dardanelles, were of the permanent nature. So let us pass on to the temporary mines. These were used by the Germans from the first few hours of the war. One of the first naval incidents was when our ships discovered a small German excursion steamer which had been converted into a mine-layer strewing these deadly things surreptitiously in the North Sea in the hope that some of our vessels would run upon them. Needless to say, that ship went on no more excursions. Laid thus, it is evident that there can be no wires running ashore, so that all mines of this class must be contact mines. What makes them of extreme interest is the way they are laid. Just think for a moment what is involved. From the very nature of things their laying must often be done in secret. It is not the British practice to place them in the open seas, except avowedly, after due notice, in certain specified areas, where they are laid quite openly under the protection of adequate forces to ensure against interruption. There is little doubt, however, that they have laid many a mine field secretly in purely German waters, while everyone knows that the Germans have not hesitated to sow the shipping routes broadcast with these things, such work of course being done secretly and largely at night. The mine can therefore only be laid by dropping it into the water and leaving it. Yet it must not float on the surface or it will be easily seen and picked up; it must float below, so that the unsuspecting ship may run upon it. And it is quite impossible to make a thing float in water anywhere except upon the surface. If it does not float upon the surface it sinks to the bottom: there is no "half-way house" between. Many people are surprised to hear this, judging, no doubt, by the fact that a balloon floats _in_, and not on, the air and expecting an object floating in water to be able to do the same thing. The difference is due to the fact that air is easily compressible, so that the air close to the earth is denser, more compressed, and therefore heavier, than the air higher up owing to its having the whole weight of the upper air pressing downwards upon it. The density of the air diminishes, for this reason, as one ascends, and a balloon which displaces more than its own weight of air at the surface of the earth rises until it has reached just that height when the air displaced exactly equals in weight the balloon itself: then it goes no higher. Precisely the same conditions exist in the sea except that water being incompressible is no denser at the bottom of the sea than on the surface. Therefore, if a thing sinks at all it sinks right to the bottom. There is one very ingenious device for overcoming this difficulty by means of a motor and propeller. The mine has enclosed in its case a motor driven by a store of compressed air which operates a propeller. In this it is somewhat like a torpedo, but in this case the propeller is set vertically so that its action lifts the mine up in the water. Now the mine is so weighted that it just and only just sinks when dropped in, but on reaching a certain depth the motor starts and by means of the propeller raises it nearly to the surface again. On nearing the surface the motor stops and the mine sinks once more, only to be raised again in due course, so that the thing keeps on rising and falling; it never rises above a certain depth nor falls below a certain depth, but oscillates continually between its two limits. The question then arises, what starts and stops the motor at precisely the right moments to produce this result? It is done by means of a hydrostatic valve. As just pointed out, the water at the bottom of the sea is supporting the weight of all that water which is above it. The water is not compressed by this, but the pressure is there all the same. Obviously the degree of pressure at any point depends upon the weight of the layer of water above, and since the weight of that layer will obviously increase and diminish with its thickness it follows that, starting from the surface, where the pressure is nil, we get a perfectly steady and regular increase as we descend, until we reach the maximum at the bottom. Now within the mine is a small watertight diaphragm, the outer surface of which is in contact with the water and upon which, therefore, the water presses. As the mine descends, therefore, this diaphragm is bent inwards more and more by the pressure of water and that is made to start the motor. Adjustments can easily be made so that a certain degree of bending shall result in starting the motor, which is the same as saying that the motor shall start automatically at a certain depth. Likewise as the mine rises under the influence of the propeller the pressure decreases, the diaphragm straightens out and at a certain predetermined depth the motor is stopped. When, finally, the store of motive power is exhausted the mine sinks to the bottom and is lost, a very valuable feature from a humanitarian point of view, since it means that the active life of the mine is short and it cannot go straying about the oceans for weeks or even months, finally blowing up some quite innocent passenger ship. More often, however, this difficulty of depth is overcome by anchoring the mine at the depth most suitable for striking the bottom of a passing ship. But here again there seem to be insuperable difficulties, for the depth of the sea varies and so the length of the anchor rope must be varied with almost every mine that is laid. It has been found possible, however, to make the mines automatically adjust the length of their own anchor ropes so that the desired result is attained without difficulty no matter how deep the sea may be. Let me describe how it is done in the Elia mines used by Great Britain. The inventor, Captain Elia, was an officer in the Italian Navy. The mine consists of three parts: (1) the mine proper, a case containing the explosive, gun-cotton and the firing mechanism; (2) the anchor; and (3) the weight, all of which are connected together by suitable wire ropes. The mine is lighter than water and so floats: the anchor, which bears no resemblance to the ordinary anchor but which is an iron case containing mechanism, only able to act as an anchor by virtue of its weight, is heavier than water and so sinks, while the weight of solid cast iron sinks more readily still. The anchor is often fitted with wheels so that it forms a truck upon which the mine and the weight are placed, the whole running upon rails laid on the deck of the mine-layer. As this ship steams ahead the men push the mines along the rails, dropping them over the stern at regular intervals. When the thing reaches the water, the weight sinks the most rapidly, thereby tugging at the chain whereby it is connected to the anchor. The latter, being less compact, sinks more slowly so that the pull upon the rope is maintained until at last the weight rests upon the bottom. _Then and only then is the pull relaxed._ Now inside the anchor is a winch, upon which is wound a length of flexible wire rope, the other end of which is attached to the mine. The latter, it will be remembered, is light enough to float and so, since it lies upon the surface while the anchor sinks, the rope is drawn off the winch. But there is a spring catch which is able to hold the winch and to prevent it from paying out rope, and that catch is only held off by the pull of the weight. Consequently, as soon as the weight touches the bottom and its pull upon the anchor ceases, the winch is gripped by the catch, no more rope is paid out, and from that moment, as the anchor descends, it drags the mine down with it. The result, then, is that the mine becomes anchored at a depth below the surface roughly equal to the length of the rope connecting weight to anchor. Mines of this kind can, of course, be fired electrically by the tilting of a cup of mercury or similar device as already described. Another arrangement is to fit projecting horns upon the surface of the mine made of soft metal so that they will be bent or crushed by a strong blow such as a passing ship would give. This breaks a glass vessel inside, liberating chemicals which cause detonation. The method adopted in the Elia mines is to have a projecting arm pivoted upon the top of the mine. The mine is spherical (they are nearly all either spherical or cylindrical), with the rope attached to the South Pole, so to speak, and the arm pivoted to the North Pole. As the mine floats in the water the arm projects out horizontally. The effect of this arrangement is that when a ship strikes the mine the latter rolls along its side, but the arm being too long, simply trails along. Thus the spherical case of the mine turns while the arm remains still and that is made to unscrew and eventually release a hammer which, striking the detonator, fires the mine. In other words, this type of mine is exploded not by the ship giving it a blow, but by its rubbing itself along in contact with the mine. The great advantage of this is that it is only a ship that can do this. No chance commotion in the water can do it: no chance blow from floating wreckage can do it: only the rubbing action of a ship can accomplish it. Such a mine, too, is less likely to be affected by counter-mining, of which more presently. Apparently the laying of these mines must be very dangerous work, for since a blow will explode most of them, what is to prevent their receiving that blow while on the deck of the mine-layer, or at all events as they are dropped into the water. In all cases, precautions are taken against such an event. Sometimes a hydrostatic valve is employed, the arrangement being that the firing mechanism is locked until released by the valve, until, that is, the mine is immersed to a predetermined depth in the water. Another device for the same purpose is a lump of sugar. The mine is so made that it cannot be fired until this lump has been melted by the action of the water: sal ammoniac is another substance employed for the same purpose. The technical term for this is a "soluble seal." The firing arrangement, whatever it may be, is sealed up so that it cannot come into operation until the seal has been dissolved away by the water, or until the mine has been in the water long enough for the mine-layer to get out of harm's way. Another interesting feature of the Elia mine is connected with the source of the power which drives the hammer which causes the explosion. The anchor, it will be remembered, pulls the mine down under water, the latter being of itself buoyant. There is a continual pull, therefore, upon the rope by which the mine is held under. It is that pull which works the hammer. And now observe the beautiful result of that simple arrangement. Suppose the mine breaks its rope and gets loose, so that it can drift about and carry danger far and wide. It can break loose and it can drift about, but at the very moment of getting loose the danger vanishes, for the rope ceases to pull and the firing mechanism loses its motive power. In other mines the same result has been sought by means of clockwork, which throws the firing arrangements out of action after the lapse of a given time. This scheme of Captain Elia's, however, whereby the very act of breaking adrift produces its own safeguard, is one of the most delightful instances of a happy invention. In conclusion, just a word about the measures taken against mines. Counter-mining is one. It consists in letting off other mines in the midst of a mine-field with the purpose of giving them such a shaking up that some of them will be exploded by the shock. The simplest and indeed the only effective way, however, seems to be the simple primitive method of dragging a rope along between two light draught vessels and thus tearing the mines up by their roots, so to speak. The very act of thus dragging it along by its anchor rope often causes a mine to explode, well astern of the mine-sweeping vessels, but sometimes they are pulled up and fired or sunk by a shot from a gun which the sweeper carries for the purpose. The sweeping up of the mine-fields is a duty often allotted to the steam fishing boats or trawlers, whose crews seem particularly well fitted for the work. It is a hazardous duty, and many lives have been lost through it. Let us hope that in time to come all submarine mines and the dangers connected with them will be a thing of the past, for they are mean, cowardly and contemptible weapons. CHAPTER VI MILITARY BRIDGES Bridging has always been an important part of actual warfare. In my school days I studied "Cæsar" from a textbook which is not much in use nowadays and which had very copious notes, prominent among which was a description, with drawings, of a bridge made by the Roman Legions in Gaul. And a fine bridge it was, too. How its details came to be known was partly through the description given by Cæsar himself and partly by a study of certain old timbers found in the bed of the Rhone, which timbers were believed to be relics of the very bridge which the great Julius himself had had built. This bridge of nearly two thousand years ago appeared to be built of baulks of timber fastened together in very much the same manner as that adopted by the engineering units of the great armies of to-day. Every observant person has noticed how tall poles and short sticks tied together with ropes can be fashioned into the firm, strong scaffolding from which workmen can in safety raise great tall buildings. That mode of construction can always be used to form a bridge. Equally well known, no doubt, are the gantries built over the footway while a large building is in course of construction. Generally of huge square baulks of timber, they are intended to carry very heavy loads of materials and to save the public passing beneath from any possibility of damage through heavy objects falling from above. Those gantries furnish us with an example of another sort of construction in wood which can be and is often used in bridging. When the Germans retired in Northern France they blew up all bridges behind them, and before the Allies could use those bridges they had to repair them. If only for foot-traffic, a contrivance of poles, lashed together after the manner of the builder's scaffold, is ample in most of such cases and by its means a strong and safe bridge can be made upon what is left of the old bridge in the course of a few hours. For light vehicles a similar structure but made stronger by more lashings and of poles closer together will suffice, but for heavy traffic, with guns and possibly railway trains, recourse has to be had to the heavy timberwork exemplified by the builder's gantry. This takes longer to make, since the timbers are big, heavy and not easy to move about: they are, moreover, not simply laid beside or across each other and tied, but are cut the right lengths, and one is notched where the end of another fits into or against it. The baulks are connected by bolts and nuts for which holes have to be drilled or by rods of iron with a sharply pointed prong on each end stretching across from one baulk to another, one prong being driven into each. With the long-thought-out military operations of modern warfare it is just possible that steelwork for repairing certain particular bridges might be prepared in advance and simply launched across when the time arrives, but that is manifestly impossible except in certain cases and under particularly favourable conditions, such as railway facilities for bringing up the new bridge close to the site where it is to go. Nearly every military bridge therefore has to be more or less improvised on the spot. In a highly developed country scaffold poles or baulks may be found or brought up by road or rail, in less civilised lands their equivalents may be cut and prepared from neighbouring forests, but all armies have, as a recognised part of their organisation, certain engineering "field companies," and "bridging trains," which carry with them large quantities of material carefully schemed out long in advance, so shaped and so prepared that it can be fashioned into almost anything, much as the strips of a boy's "meccano" can be adapted to form a great variety of objects. First, there are pontoons, large though light boats or punts, about 20 feet long, constructed of thin wood with canvas cemented all over to give additional strength and water-tightness. Each pontoon rides upon its own carriage upon which there are also stowed away quantities of timbers of various sorts, anchors for holding the pontoons in place, oars for rowing them, ropes of different kinds, and so on. Each pontoon, moreover, is divided about the middle into two pieces called respectively the bow piece and the stern piece. The two are normally coupled together by cunningly devised fastenings but they can be quickly separated, in which state they form two shorter boats. Other carriages carry more timber and material intended for the purpose of forming "trestle bridges" but which is also usable in connection with the pontoons. Of this material the chief sorts are "legs," long straight pieces which form the uprights; transomes, heavier beams which can be fitted across horizontally between two legs so that the three form a huge letter H or a very robust Rugby goal; "baulks" which are light timbers tapered off towards each end for the sake of lightness and of such size that they fit snugly into notches which are cut in the upper surface of the transomes; and planks called "chesses" for forming the floors of a bridge. Probably the most dramatic incident of the war was when the British, having been apparently beaten by the Turks in Mesopotamia, driven far back and their General and many troops captured, suddenly turned the tables upon their enemies, driving them from Kut and sending them fleeing helter-skelter to Bagdad and then beyond. Now the capture of Kut and then of Bagdad were both made possible by the rapid bridging of the Tigris, and without doubt this is the sort of material which was used. Let us see how it is done. An army arrives at a river across which it is decided to throw a pontoon bridge. The pontoons are unloaded off their wagons and launched into the water. One is rowed out and anchored a little way from the shore, while upon the bank parallel with the river is laid a "transome." On the centre of the pontoon is a centre beam with notches in it like those in the transomes and from the one to the other "baulks" are passed. Meanwhile a second pontoon has been rowed into place and more baulks are passed from the first pontoon to the second, while chesses are laid upon the baulks to form a platform or floor. Thus, pontoon by pontoon, the bridge grows until it has reached the further bank. If pontoons are scarce and the loads to be carried by the bridge are light they are divided in two, and instead of a row of pontoons joined by "baulks" there is a row of "pieces" joined by baulks. Pieces arranged thus form a light bridge, pontoons a medium bridge, while pontoons placed closer together form a heavy bridge. Which shall be built depends upon the number of pontoons available in relation to the width of the river and the nature of the traffic which will have to pass over. An alternative arrangement is to make the pontoons up first into groups or rafts and then bridge from raft to raft instead of bridging between pontoons. There is still another way of making the bridge, and that is to put it together alongside the bank, afterwards swinging it across the river like the opening or shutting of a door. Anyone can see that there must be many advantages in this latter method when it is practicable, since more men can work at once and with greater safety, for all will be near the bank. It is evident that such a structure depends for its security entirely upon the anchors. Those which are carried for the purpose are like those of a ship but there may not be enough or they may not suit every kind of river-bed. They are often improvised therefore. Two wagon wheels lashed together, with heavy stones clipped between them, are said to be a very effective anchor. Under certain conditions a net filled with stones is surprisingly effective. Two pickaxes tied together form a good imitation of the conventional anchor, as also does a harrow sunk and held down by stones thrown upon it. Trestle bridges are made in quite a different way. The trestles are formed of two legs or uprights with a transome between, a shape which resembles, as has been already remarked, a very robust Rugby goal. The transome is connected to the legs by a special form of band which permits it to be fixed at any height without having to drill any special holes for the connections. The legs are so shaped at their ends that they can be shod with steel shoes provided for the purpose, enabling them to get a good foothold even on shifty soil. The trestles are put together ashore, and each is taken out in a boat or on a pontoon to the place where it is to stand. Then it is launched feet foremost into the water, the boat being on the side away from the shore, so that a rope from the trestle to the shore will enable men on land to pull the trestle into an upright position. [Illustration: AN INCIDENT AT LOOS. This picture gives us some little idea of the devastation caused by modern weapons. It also shows the inventiveness of the soldier who makes his rifle into a battering-ram. Incidentally we see a kind-hearted soldier rescuing a little girl from danger. This incident really happened.] Thus trestle after trestle is added until the bridge has grown right across the water to the further bank. The trestles cannot fall over sideways because of their own width, they cannot fall forwards or backwards because of the "baulks" which pass between them and carry the floor, but as a precaution diagonal ties of rope are always added here and there along the bridge, that is to say, two trestles are tied together with two ropes, each rope passing from the bottom of one trestle to the top of the other, a form of tying which is very effective and very easy and simple to carry out. One interesting thing to notice is the form of the "baulks," in which connection I would like to remark that when I use the word without inverted commas I mean it in the ordinary sense as implying a big heavy timber, but when I use the commas I mean it in its technical sense as it is used in military engineering. In this latter sense it describes the timbers specially provided for the purposes just described. Large supplies of the ordinary heavy baulks could not be carried with an army: but strength is required nevertheless. Hence the military engineers have invented a form which combines strength with lightness. If you stand a plank upon its edge, supported at each end so as to form a beam, its strength will vary as its width and as the _square of its height_. If then you double its width you only double its strength, but if you double its height you multiply its strength _four_ times. If you halve the width of a given beam you halve its strength, but if you then double its height you quadruple that half, in other words, without making the beam any heavier by these two operations you double its strength. Moreover, if you support a beam at each end and pass a load over it or spread a load permanently upon it, its greatest strength is required in the middle. You can shave away the ends without making the beam as a whole any less strong. So these "baulks" are made like planks, very oblong if looked at endwise, also thinner at the ends than in the middle. But if by chance they tipped over on to their sides they would for that very reason be very weak, and that is why the notches are provided in the transomes and the centre beams of the pontoons, in order that the "baulks," having been laid edgewise in them, cannot tip over. Thus a considerable saving is made in the weight of the bridging material to be carried. It sometimes happens that when a trestle is dropped into the water one leg will fall into a depression in the river-bed or will sink more deeply if the bed be soft, leaving the whole structure lop-sided and useless. That, however, is easily overcome, since it is provided against. A little iron bracket, which is carried for the purpose, is clipped on to the leg which has sunk near its top and on to it is hung a pair of pulley blocks--one of those little contrivances which everyone has seen at some time or another by which one man pulling a chain quickly can raise, although slowly, a heavy load. By this means the end of the transome is raised until it is horizontal and the legs have assumed an upright posture, when the transome is refastened to the leg in its new position. Thus we see the advantage of clamping the transome to the leg rather than fixing it with any arrangement of holes. The iron band, which is fastened on to the transome and which grasps the leg, is so arranged that the greater the load the more tightly does it hold, so that it is perfectly safe under all conditions. The trestle bridge has a great advantage over the floating bridge if the height of the water varies at all, as for instance, with the tide. The former remains still, while the latter goes up and down, requiring a special arrangement to be contrived for connecting it to the shore. Under some conditions a suspension bridge is the most convenient form of all, particularly if the banks are high and strong, or if the current be very rapid or the river-bed very soft. In such cases steel wire ropes are stretched across the water between two trestles. The latter may be made in the way just described, but more often they have to be stronger and are built specially out of big strong timbers securely fastened together. Their form does not matter much so long as they are strong and stiff, high enough to carry the ends of the suspension ropes and of such a shape as not to block the entrance to the bridge itself. The higher they are the better, because, according to the natural laws which govern such things, the more sag or dip there is in the ropes across the river the less severely will they be strained. They need to be very strong, as the whole weight of the bridge and its load falls upon their shoulders. The pull of the suspension ropes, moreover, tends to pull them forward into the water, so they must be held back by other strong ropes called guys, and the action of these two sets of ropes entails the unfortunate trestles bearing really _more_ weight than the actual weight of the bridge and load. The guys, too, require very strong anchorage or at the critical moment they may give way, when the whole contrivance, with possibly valuable guns or ammunition on board, will be precipitated into the water. The men may be able to swim but the guns will sink. Having, then, constructed a trestle upon each bank, securely guyed it back and connected the suspension ropes to it, the next operation is to attach smaller vertical ropes to the suspension ropes at intervals, to support the ends of the transomes. Then upon the latter are laid "baulks" and upon them the flooring as usual. Or if ropes be not sufficiently plentiful, timbers may be lashed on to the suspension ropes instead, the transomes being fastened to them. That is all that is absolutely essential to a suspension bridge, but one so formed would be rather flimsy and unstable. It needs to be stiffened by diagonal timbers at suitable places and often it has props placed upon the bank reaching out as far as their length will permit over the water to steady and consolidate what to commence with is rather too much like a spider's web. Those little strengthening dodges can be laid down in no books. They need to be left to the judgment of the men in charge to do what is necessary in the best way they can with the materials which happen to be at hand. But very often warfare has to be carried on in the most outlandish places where armies can only travel light, and where, hampered by bridging material of the conventional sort, they would have no chance in catching up with a fleet and agile native enemy. Yet bridges are needed even more under those conditions perhaps than under any other. There are many examples of this in the wars just beyond the frontier in Northern India. Then ingenuity has to make good the luck of prepared material and the bridges are made of those materials which happen to be procurable. An army in India once wanted to cross a river, where no materials of the ordinary kind were available. The river, however, was lined with tall reeds. A reed has for centuries been a favourite example of weakness and untrustworthiness, so how can reeds be made to form a safe bridge? This is how it was done. Great quantities of reeds were cut and were made up into neat round bundles about a foot in diameter. Ropes were scarce too, but these likewise were improvised by twisting long grasses into ropes. It is surprising what good ones can be made in this way, and they served their purpose well. Many bundles having thus been made numbers of them were tied together so as to form rafts. Each bundle in fact was a small pontoon, and the rafts which were thus constituted differed only in size from the regulation rafts made of pontoons. While this work was being done two ropes were got across the river and secured on both banks: then rafts were floated down in succession, each one on arrival being tied up under the two ropes. Finally a track of boards was laid over the centre and the bridge was strong enough for men in fours to walk over it. Had it been necessary, the floor could have been made of brushwood, interlaced so as to form a kind of continuous matting or of a layer of branches covered with canvas. Floors for bridges can be made in many ways. A dodge which soldiers in the British Army are taught is how to make boats for bridging purposes out of a tarpaulin or piece of canvas, supported on a framework of light wood poles or twigs. The outline of the boat is first drawn roughly on the ground. Then three posts are driven in on the centre line of the boat and to the top of these three a horizontal pole is tied, thin, flexible branches stripped of their bark, being fixed by having their ends stuck in the ground on either side. The ends are driven in on the outline already marked out so that when done the branches form a framework like the ribs of a boat upside down. Other branches are intertwined among these so as to bind them together and finally a tarpaulin or canvas sheet is laid over all. A number of boats formed after this fashion can be used as pontoons to support a bridge, or several can be made into a raft and towed to and fro--a sort of floating bridge. Another scheme is to make a number of crates like those in which crockery and other things are often packed. These are of very simple and easy construction, consisting of sticks slightly pointed at the ends driven into other pieces which are perforated with suitable holes to receive the ends. The only tools necessary are an axe (or even a pocket-knife will do) to sharpen the ends and an auger to make the holes. Almost any sort of wood can be made to serve. The cover for this, and indeed for most of these improvised rafts, is tarpaulin or canvas, the latter of which, being the material used for so many purposes, is almost sure to be available in some form or other. For instance, every one of those familiar "General Service Wagons" has its large canvas cover. In fact, a general service wagon, taken off its wheels and wrapped up in its own canvas cover, makes quite a serviceable boat, pontoon, punt, barge or whatever you like to call it. Then there is an ingenious type of little bridge which can be quickly and easily made where bamboos or similar light canes or sticks are available. The only tool required in making this is a couple of poles ten feet or so in length. To commence with, these poles are laid side by side upon the bank with one end of each pointed out over the water, overhanging it by about four feet. Two men then climb along these, while others sit upon the inshore ends to keep them from tipping into the water. Seated, then, on the outer ends of the poles the men drive some bamboos or whatever they are using into the water, after which they tie a crosspiece to the uprights, so forming a light trestle. Then the poles are pushed forward until they overhang another four feet beyond the trestle just made, the other men, of course, continuing to sit upon the rear ends. And so the bridge grows until it entirely crosses the stream. Between the trestles other light poles are laid and tied, forming the floor upon which men can cross in single file. Another type, known as the "hop pole" bridge is made of slightly heavier poles which are tied together in threes so as to form isosceles triangles. Each triangle forms one trestle. The two poles which form the sides project a little above the apex so that in fact we have an isosceles triangle with a V at the apex. To the root of the V another pole is tied loosely and the whole trestle is pushed feet first into the water. Then, by pushing the pole, it is forced into an upright position in which it is secured by the pole being firmly fixed to the shore and strongly lashed to the root of the V where, before, it was only loosely tied. A second trestle is then in like manner fixed in front of the first one, connected to it by a pole just as the first is connected to the bank. And so the thing grows. To all the upper ends of the V's a light pole is tied to form a handrail. In this case, of course, the floor of the bridge is nothing more than a pole, but with the assistance of a handrail it is quite easy to walk along a single pole. And that reminds me of a simple type of suspension bridge which, an engineer officer once assured me, is actually copied from one habitually made by some of the Indian natives. It consists of three ropes upon one of which you walk, while the other two form a handrail upon either side. The three ropes are held at intervals in their correct relative positions by little wooden frames formed of three sticks tied together, one rope being tied to each corner of each triangle. On the banks stakes are driven in and tied back with cords to give additional strength, and to them the ends of the ropes are secured. One drawback to this form of bridge is that the ropes are naturally far from level and one has to walk down a steep hill to commence with and up again at the other end. I once saw a specimen of this kind of bridge across a wide ditch, a part of the old defences of Chatham, and an elderly gentleman who was with me, a man of considerable proportions, insisted upon trying it for himself. He took but a step or two when his foot began to slide downhill along the foot rope faster than he dare move his hands along the hand ropes, with the result that he was very soon in a very uncomfortable position. Thus he remained, to the amusement of all his friends, until two stalwart Royal Engineers came to his aid and "uprighted" him. In crossing a swamp something in the nature of a bridge is sometimes required. Canvas laid upon branches often makes a good road over what would otherwise be impassable. Rapidly moving detachments of cavalry are provided with what is called "air-raft equipment," which enables them to get their light "Horse Artillery" guns across rivers which would be impassable otherwise. It consists of sixty bags like huge cylindrical footballs except that the outer covering is canvas instead of leather. These are blown up partly by the mouth and partly by pumps provided for the purpose until they are just about as tight as a football should be. Then they are laid out in rows of twelve, each row being fastened together by the bags being tied to a pole running lengthwise of the row. Cords are attached to the bags for the purpose. The five rows are then placed parallel and connected together by two light planks called wheelways placed across the rows and tied thereto. This arrangement is capable of carrying light guns or ammunition wagons. The men are expected to ride through the water, but if necessary something can be laid upon the raft, between the wheelways, to form a floor upon which men and even horses can ride. As part of the equipment there is a small collapsible boat with oars and by its means men first cross, carrying with them a line by which, afterwards, the raft can be hauled to and fro. Rafts can be made, too, of hay tightly tied up in waterproof ground-sheets or tarpaulins or canvas. Indeed, given a little ingenuity and the need to use it (for it is very true that necessity is the mother of invention), it is surprising what a large variety of things can be pressed into this service. Of course, barrels can be made to form excellent pontoons, but there is one clever little way of using them which is more than usually interesting, and with that I must conclude this chapter which has already exceeded its appointed limits. Imagine two poles perhaps ten feet long, placed parallel. Between them, at one end, a barrel is lashed: at the other end is a plank forming with the poles a T. A man can then sit upon the barrel and paddle about, for the poles and planks will steady the barrel just as the outriggers and floats steady the narrow canoes or catamarans of which we read in books of travel. For that reason a bridge formed of such is called a "catamaran" bridge. Of course, if there are only a few barrels to be had they can be fitted out like this and then combined into a raft. Or if there are enough of them they can be anchored at intervals and poles or planks laid from one to another so as to form a continuous bridge. Or a single one may be used as a boat. I can almost fancy I see some of my readers who have access to a pond rigging up an old barrel in this way, just to see how it goes. CHAPTER VII WHAT GUNS ARE MADE OF No longer ago than the days of the Crimea, the largest guns were made of the cheapest and commonest kind of iron, that known as cast iron. This material has the advantage of being cheap and easily worked, but is comparatively weak and liable to crack, so that the guns of that time were comparatively small compared with those of to-day; they could only withstand a feeble explosion and their range was therefore limited. Had the energetic explosives of the present time been employed in them they would inevitably have burst, killing their gunners instead of the enemy. Attempts were made to strengthen them with bands made of wrought iron, a form of the metal which is tough and elastic and therefore better able to withstand sudden shocks than the more brittle cast iron, but it was not a real success. At first sight one naturally wonders why the whole gun was not made of the stronger wrought iron. The reason was that while cast iron can be melted and poured in a liquid form into a mould, so as to produce the shape of the gun, wrought iron will not melt. It will soften with heat, in which condition it can be hammered into shape and, moreover, when in a very soft state two pieces can be joined by simply forcing them closely together, which operation is called welding. With the machinery available now it would be possible to make a gun of wrought iron, but even a few years ago it would have been quite impossible. There was an obvious need therefore of a metal which could be melted and cast in moulds like cast iron, yet tough and strong to resist shock like wrought iron. Fortunately this problem excited the interest of a certain Mr. Henry Bessemer, a gentleman who, having made a considerable fortune through an ingenious method of manufacturing bronze powder, had sufficient leisure and money to devote himself to its solution. The vast steel industries of Great Britain and the United States are the direct results of this gentleman's labours, and in the latter country there are quite a number of towns which, being the home of steelworks, are called by his name. Iron is one of the most plentiful things in the world. Deposits running into millions of tons are to be found in many parts, but it is practically always in the form of ore, that is to say, in combination with something else generally oxygen and sometimes oxygen and carbon. The former sort of ore is called oxide of iron and the latter carbonate of iron, and both of them bear not the slightest resemblance to the metal. They are just rocks which form part of the earth's crust, and it is only the metallurgist who can tell what they consist of. In order that the iron may be obtained from the ore it is necessary for the oxygen to be separated from it, an operation which requires the intervention of heat, and the heat must be obtained from a fuel which consists mainly of carbon. Wood fulfils these requirements, but there is not enough wood in the whole world to smelt all the iron which we need. It was not until "pit-cole" displaced "char-cole" (to use the spelling of the period) that the iron industry began to assume its present importance. To produce iron cheaply, therefore, ore and coal should for preference lie side by side, and in some few favoured localities that state of things exists. Generally speaking, however, the ore and the coal are not found together, with the result that one has to be taken to the other, and in practice it is usually the ore which is taken to the coal. Hence, the iron and steelworks are generally to be found on the coalfields, while the ore comes by rail or ship from, it may be, remote parts of the world. The method by which the metal is obtained from the ore is in principle very simple. Coal and ore are mixed together in a furnace, the fire being fanned by a powerful blast of air. The result is that the bonds uniting iron and oxygen are relaxed by the heat, when the oxygen, having a preference for union with carbon rather than with iron, leaves the latter to join up with some of the carbon of the coal. The furnace in which this operation is carried out is a tall, vertical cylinder of iron, lined with firebrick. The fire is at the bottom and the fresh fuel and ore are thrown in at the top. As the ore is "reduced" (the chemist's term for removing oxygen from anything) the liquid iron accumulates in the lowest part of the furnace, whence it is drawn off at intervals, being allowed to run into grooves or gutters in a bed of sand, where it solidifies into what is called "pig iron." Along with the coal and ore, there is thrown into the furnace from time to time quantities of limestone which combines with the earthy impurities with which the ore is contaminated. Together these form what is called "slag," which also exists, while in the furnace, as a liquid, but is so much lighter than the molten iron that it keeps quite separate and can periodically be drawn off through a hole higher up than that through which the iron is obtained. The slag solidifies into a hard stone which is broken up and used for making concrete and tar-paving, also for road metal. The kind of furnace just described is, owing to the strong blast of air needed for its operation, called a "blast-furnace." One would be inclined to think that a fire so well supplied with oxygen, both from the blast and from the ore itself, would cause the fuel to be completely burnt up, yet such is not the case. The gases which ascend from the fire consist largely of "carbon-monoxide," a burnable gas with lots of heat still left in it. Years ago, and one may still see instances of it, this gas was allowed to escape at the top of the furnace, where it burnt in the form of a huge flame. In most modern furnaces, however, there is a kind of plug in the orifice at the top which, while it can be lowered in order to admit the ore and fuel, normally prevents the escape of the gases, which are led away through pipes. In some cases the gases are burnt under boilers to provide the works with steam, in other cases they heat other furnaces for metallurgical purposes, while in yet others they are employed to drive large gas-engines to generate electricity. It is sometimes a difficulty to find useful employment for the vast quantities of this "blast-furnace gas" which are produced at a large works. We see, then, how is obtained the pig iron from which the other kinds of iron and steel are made. It is not pure iron by any means; indeed, it is not sought to make iron pure, as is the case with most other metals, since, in its pure state, it is too soft to be of much use. All the familiar forms of iron and steel are really alloys of iron and carbon, a fact which tends to give iron its unique position among the metals, since by exceedingly slight variations in the percentage of carbon we can vary the properties of the iron to an amazing extent, thereby producing in effect a wide range of different substances each particularly suitable for a particular purpose. To make cast iron, such as the guns of the Crimea were made of, it is only necessary to melt up some pig iron and to pour it into a mould. There is scarcely a town in which there is not an iron foundry, either large or small, and that is the work carried on there. A smaller form of the blast-furnace, known as a "cupola," melts the pig iron, and the moulds are generally made of sand. The process of pouring the melted metal into the moulds is called "casting" and the things so produced are "castings," and are said to be made of "cast" iron. [Illustration: AN 18-POUNDER IN ACTION. The crew consists of six men. No. 1 (the sergeant) gives instructions. No. 2 stands at the right of the breech. No. 3 fires the gun. No. 4 holds the shell ready for placing in the bore. No. 5 adjusts the fuse and hands the shell to No. 4. No. 6 prepares the ammunition and hands it to No. 5. In this picture only three of the crew are left.] Wrought iron is made by working the molten pig iron instead of casting it. The work is done in a different type of furnace altogether from the blast furnace and the cupola. It is more like an oven, in the floor of which is a depression wherein the molten metal lies. The fire-place is so arranged that the flames pass over the metal, being deflected downwards upon it by the roof as they pass. It should be understood that in casting pig iron one does little more than form it into some desired shape, the nature of the metal undergoing little or no change. In working it, however, into wrought iron, we change its nature. The pig iron contains from 2 to 5 per cent of carbon, which it obtains from the coal in the blast-furnace, and it is this particular proportion of carbon which gives it its own peculiar properties. To convert it into wrought iron a workman puts a long iron rod into the furnace and stirs the metal about, thereby exposing it to the air and permitting the carbon to be burnt out. As it loses carbon the iron becomes less and less fluid until it reaches a sticky stage. Thus the workman, who is known by the name of puddler, as the process is called puddling, works up a ball of decarbonized and therefore sticky iron upon the end of his rod. Having thus produced a rough ball or lump he draws it out of the furnace and leaves it to cool. Thus the result of the puddling process is to produce a number of rough lumps or balls of iron with only about one-tenth per cent of carbon. They are next reheated, in another furnace, and a number of them are hammered together under a mechanical hammer into larger lumps called blooms or billets. The hammering process has the effect of driving out impurities and also of improving the texture of the metal. Iron sheets, bars, rods and so on are formed by heating the billets and rolling them out in powerful rolling mills, machines which in principle are precisely similar to the domestic mangle, wherein two iron rollers with properly shaped grooves in them squeeze out the billet into the desired form. Wrought iron, owing to the method by which it is produced, is not homogeneous, that is to say, it is nor quite the same all through, with the result that when it is rolled it develops a grain somewhat similar to the grain in wood, so that if bent across the grain it is somewhat liable to crack. On the other hand, it has the advantage over steel that it rusts much less readily. Hence, for outdoor purposes it is still sometimes preferred to the otherwise more popular steel. Now the problem which Bessemer set before himself was to find out how to make a metal which could be cast like cast iron yet should be as strong and tough as wrought iron. After a little experimenting, by a happy inspiration, he hit upon the idea of blowing air through a mass of molten pig iron, thereby burning out the carbon, just as is done in the puddling process, only much quicker and with less labour. By this means he produced a metal with less carbon than cast iron and more than wrought iron, a sort of intermediate state between the two, and to his joy he found that this "Bessemer steel" could be cast like cast iron yet had strength and toughness equal to if not superior to that of wrought iron. Moreover, it was homogeneous and when rolled did not possess the troublesome grain characteristic of wrought iron. Having thus found the way to make this new and desirable metal, Bessemer encountered a great disappointment, so great that it would have entirely beaten many men. He made samples of steel and submitted them to experts in iron manufacture. Everyone thought them admirable and many large iron works were induced by them to make arrangements with Bessemer for the right to use his process. His name was already famous and it seemed as if a new fortune was made, when, to his alarm, he learned that wherever it was tried except in his own works, the process was a miserable failure. Instead of being at the end of his labours he was just at the beginning. It turned out that the particular iron which he happened to buy and use at his own works was particularly free from an impurity which is, generally speaking, a great nuisance in iron, namely, phosphorus. It was pure accident which had led him to use this iron: it happened to be the kind he could purchase most easily in the small quantities needed for his experiments but it led him into a great difficulty, for other people, after paying him for the right to use his process and after spending large sums on the requisite plant, found themselves unable to make the steel because of the phosphorus in their iron and finding themselves unable to make a success were inclined to write him down a fraud. As it turned out, after much labour on Bessemer's part, it was due to the presence of tiny percentages of phosphorus in most of the iron that is produced. After much trouble he was able to induce certain owners of blast-furnaces to make, by special methods, a kind of pig iron practically free from phosphorus and therefore suitable for his process. This special pig iron was known as Bessemer Pig Iron. A little later a new inventor, a Welshman, Thomas by name, overcame the difficulty in another way, but to explain that I must first describe the Bessemer Converter, the special apparatus designed by Bessemer for making his steel. It can best be likened to a huge iron kettle with a big spout at the top and with two projecting pins, one on each side. These pins rest in supports, so that it is easy to tilt the whole thing over on to its side. This is lined with fire-clay or some suitable heat-resisting material. Through one of the "pins" (trunnions is their proper name) there runs a hole, communicating to what we might call a grating in the bottom of the converter. To this hollow trunnion there is connected the pipe from a powerful blowing engine, so that air can be driven in at will. To load or charge the converter it is tilted over somewhat to one side so that molten pig iron can be poured into it. The blast is then turned on after which it is raised to an upright position with the air bubbling up from below through the iron. Thus by being brought into close contact with air, the carbon is burnt out of the metal until none is left. That, however, is not desired, so, as soon as the carbon is known to have all gone, a fresh quantity of molten iron is added of a special kind, the amount of carbon in which is known very exactly. Thus all the carbon is first removed and then exactly the right amount is added, and so the desired result is attained with certainty. Now Thomas's improvement was this. He discovered that the converter could be lined with certain substances which have a great attraction for phosphorus and under those conditions any phosphorus which may be in the ore goes readily from the iron into the lining, or forms, with material from the lining, a slag which floats upon the surface of the metal. When the process is completed the converter is tipped over once more and the metal, now steel, is poured into rectangular moulds from which the steel can be lifted after cooling in the form of ingots. Steel produced by Bessemer's process as improved by Thomas is called Basic Bessemer Steel. Incidentally Thomas, by this invention, laid the foundation of much of the steel industry of Germany and Belgium, for there are enormous deposits of ore in the neighbourhood of Luxemburg which because of the presence of phosphorus were useless until Thomas showed how it could be dealt with. And there is another interesting feature of this "basic" process. Phosphorus is a valuable fertilizer, so that the "slag" makes a very fine chemical manure. It is ground up into a fine powder and is sold to farmers under the name of Thomas's Phosphate Powder. It owes its fertilizing virtues to the presence of the phosphorus which it has stolen from the molten iron. Bessemer derived a huge fortune from his process after he had fought and overcome his difficulties, in addition to which he received the honour of knighthood and became Sir Henry Bessemer. It will be noticed that one of the virtues of the process is its economy in fuel. During the whole time that the metal is in the converter, from twenty to thirty minutes, no fuel is used to keep it hot. The reason for that is that the carbon which is being got rid of is acting as fuel. It is burning with the air which is driven through, thereby generating heat. In Bessemer's early days, it was arranged that he should attend a meeting of ironmasters at Birmingham to explain his new process. On the morning of his lecture two eminent ironmasters were breakfasting together in a Birmingham hotel when one exclaimed to the other, "What do you think, there is a fellow coming here to-day to tell us how to make steel without fuel." To this eminent South Wales ironmaster the proposal seemed preposterous but it was true all the same. Although vast quantities of steel are made by the Bessemer process there is another one of equal importance known as the Siemens-Martin Open-hearth process. In this the molten metal is kept in a huge bath practically boiling until the carbon has been reduced to the required amount. Perhaps the most interesting feature about it is the way in which fuel is saved by what is called the "regenerative" method due to that versatile genius Sir William Siemens. The open-hearth, as it is termed, is a huge rectangular chamber of firebrick with a firebrick roof, and doors along one side just under the roof through which the process can be watched and new materials be added from time to time. The fire is some way away and not underneath as one might perhaps expect. Now if a deep coke fire is fed with insufficient air it does not give off carbonic acid such as usually arises from a fire, and which as everyone knows will not burn, but a gas called carbon monoxide which will burn very well. So the fire-place for these furnaces is constructed in such a manner as to produce carbon monoxide, which then passes through a huge flue to one end of the open-hearth. Here it meets air coming through another flue and the two combining burst into flame over the metal. The hot gases resulting from this burning pass out through a flue at the other end of the hearth to a tall chimney which causes the necessary draught, but on their way they pass through a chamber loosely filled with bricks. Consequently the hot gases only reach the open air after having given up much of their heat to these bricks. After that operation has been going on for a time certain valves are operated and the gas and air then come in at the other end of the hearth, travelling through it in the opposite direction. And the air comes through the chamber which has the hot bricks in it, bringing back into the furnace a large quantity of that heat which otherwise would have gone up the chimney but which the bricks intercepted. Thus all day long does this reversal take place at intervals, the fresh air all the time picking up and bringing back some of the heat which just previously had escaped towards but not into the chimney. This arrangement enables the process to compete, so far as economy is concerned, with the Bessemer process. At intervals the steel is tapped off from the furnace and run into ingot-moulds, the same as with the other process. On the whole it is regarded as producing a slightly better steel, the operation being under slightly better control. However the steel is made the ingots are reheated and either hammered under a powerful steam hammer or pressed in an enormous hydraulic press. This greatly improves the quality. The steel can then be rolled into plates, bars or whatever form may be required. The finer qualities of steel such as are used for making sharp tools are made in quite another way. Instead of being made from crude iron by taking out the carbon, the materials are the finest qualities of wrought iron and charcoal which are mixed together in the correct quantities and melted in a crucible. This cast steel is very hard, so that it will carry a very fine, sharp edge. It is also capable of being tempered by heating and cooling, so that the exact degrees of hardness and toughness can be attained. Of recent years a special quality of steel for tools called "high-speed" steel has been produced, mainly by the addition to ordinary cast steel of a small percentage of tungsten. The advantage of this is that, within certain limits, this does not soften with heat, and it is, I can assure you, a great invention in war-time, when a nation is straining every nerve to turn out guns and shells as fast as possible. For all these things need to be turned in lathes and if you have ever watched a metal-turning lathe at work you will have noticed that the tool which actually takes a shaving off the article being turned tends to get hot. For this reason lathes are usually fitted with pumps which pump cold soap-suds on to the tool as it works. What you see there is the energy employed in shaving the metal being turned into heat in the tool. If left uncooled by the water it would soon be red-hot. And the faster the machine works the hotter will the tool get. Now with the old steel a very little heat will suffice to make it soft, when its cutting power is lost. So with the old steel, no matter how much cooling water you might use, there was a distinct limit to the speed of the lathe and the speed at which the work was finished, for if that speed were once exceeded a stop became necessary to regrind the tool or to put in a fresh one. But with high-speed steel that limit is much higher, for it can get almost red-hot before it loses its hardness and consequently machines can be run and jobs finished at a speed which would have been out of the question only a few years ago. If one belligerent knew how to make high-speed steel while the other did not the former would have an enormous advantage in war-time. Speaking generally, steel such as is used for tools is called hard steel, while that made by the Bessemer and Siemens-Martin processes is called mild steel. Leaving out of account for the moment fancy steels such as that just described, where other metals are added to the mixture, the essential difference between all the varieties of steel is simply a slight difference in the percentage of carbon. This is so remarkable that it is worth while to tabulate these percentages again. Cast iron has from 2 to 5 per cent. Steel from one-fifth to one per cent. Wrought iron less than one-fifth per cent. Mild steel, which has least carbon of all the varieties of steel and in this respect is therefore nearest to wrought iron, is used for the same purposes as wrought iron, such as shipbuilding, bridges and roofs, tanks, gas-holders, etc. When the Admiralty want a specially fast ship such as a torpedo-boat destroyer with a hull as light as possible consistent with strength they have it made of steel with a slightly larger percentage of carbon so that the steel is stronger and the vessel's frame can be made lighter. The steel for shells, too, needs to be of a certain strength to give the best results, so the percentage of carbon is adjusted accordingly. For guns themselves, again, special properties are needed, and so not only is the carbon regulated to a nicety but other things such as nickel and chromium are added. Altogether, steel is one of the most marvellous substances known, certainly the most marvellous metal. Copper is just copper and no more, zinc is just zinc, and the same with lead, but iron (which really includes steel) can be adapted to so many purposes, can be endowed at will with so many different properties, that without doubt iron, common, plentiful iron, is the king of all the metals. CHAPTER VIII MORE ABOUT GUNS As has been remarked elsewhere, some of the guns used by the soldiers in land warfare are very different from those used in the navy. The latter, being carried on the ships to which they belong, can be of those proportions which best suit their purpose. Consequently they are usually very long compared with their diameter. The field guns used by the Royal Field Artillery are shorter in proportion to their calibre than are the big naval guns. Otherwise they would be far too long to handle in the field. They are mounted on carriages drawn by horses, and are so handy that they can go anywhere where infantry can go and can travel just as fast. It takes a very short time to get them ready for action, too, so that they can accompany infantry quite freely, neither arm impeding the movements of the other. The Horse Artillery, again, whose guns are even lighter still, can accompany cavalry, travelling as fast and coming into action almost as quickly as the troopers themselves. The famous French "seventy-fives" (meaning 75 millimetres calibre) which played such a great part in the war, are field guns intended to move rapidly and to operate with infantry. Both these types of gun were used by the British in South Africa, as also were some field howitzers, a type of gun to which further reference will be made later. But the Boers taught the world something new as to the possibilities of moving heavy guns quickly. Perhaps the reason for this was that they, being something of the nature of amateurs in the art of warfare, were less under the influence of tradition. Anyway, they surprised the British by the quick way in which they moved heavy guns, sometimes into quite difficult positions, over rough ground and up steep hills. These heavy guns of theirs were called by the British soldiers "Long Toms." But the British were quick to respond, particularly the ever-resourceful navy. When the war broke out there were, in the neighbourhood of Durban, a number of warships which had as part of their own armament some of those guns which afterwards became famous as "4·7's," that being the diameter of the bore in inches. They were of the long shape usual in naval guns, and it is easy to see that they were much heavier than the field guns of 3 inches or so in diameter. Captain Scott (now Admiral Sir Percy Scott) saw that these would be useful, so he quickly designed some carriages for them, got these made in the railway workshops at Durban, and in a few hours was rushing them up to Ladysmith. It was these guns very largely which enabled that town to hold out for so long, until, in fact, it was triumphantly relieved. Thus the effect of the Boer war was to show that much heavier weapons could be manipulated in the field than had been considered possible before. The Great War which followed but a few years later carried on this same lesson, for one of the great surprises with which the Allies were confronted in the early days of the conflict was the inexplicable fall of fortresses which till then had been deemed almost impregnable. Liége, Namur, Maubeuge and, finally, Antwerp, all fell to a wonderful gun of enormous dimensions which the Austrians had produced from up their sleeve, so to speak. Like conjurers they had kept them secret until the last moment. These weapons which made history so fast were of the kind called howitzers, a name mentioned just now. It should be explained here that gunners talk of guns and howitzers as if the latter were not guns; but that is only a convenient habit which has grown up, for the latter are unquestionably guns. The distinction is, however, so convenient that we may well adopt it ourselves for the rest of this chapter. Repeated references have been made already to the question of the length of guns, and it has been pointed out that to get high velocity, great range and vigorous hitting power a gun needs to be as long as possible. On ships this is only limited by the strength of the steel of which the gun is made, for beyond a certain length the gun bends of its own weight. Ashore, however, the difficulties of transport impose a further limitation in most cases, although the famous 4·7, like many other naval guns, has a length of 50 calibres, and the guns of small calibre do approximate somewhat to the proportions of the naval guns, since even then their length comes within manageable limits. Modern warfare, however, requires the use of larger shells containing larger charges of explosives, and to fire these requires guns of greater calibre. We hear of shells of as great a diameter as 16 inches being thrown into the Belgian fortresses and of course nothing smaller than a 16-inch gun could do that. Now a 16-inch gun, if made to the naval proportions of 50 calibres or even 45 calibres, would mean a length of at least 60 to 70 feet. It would also mean a weight exceeding 100 tons, for the 12-inch naval gun of 50 calibres weighs about 70 tons. And it is easy to see that such a gun would be very difficult to move on the field of battle. Indeed, it would be almost useless because of the time it would take to get it into position and to construct the foundations which it would need. If the Austrians had only had such as those the Belgians would have had plenty of time to prepare for them at Antwerp, whereas it was the quickness with which they brought up their heavy guns that astonished everyone and took their opponents by surprise. The secret of this astonishing performance lies in the fact that they were not guns at all but howitzers, which instead of being long, slender tubes are short, fat ones, and that involves a different idea in gunnery altogether. The "gun" fires _at_ an object. The howitzer fires its shell upwards with the purpose of dropping it _upon_ the object. The difference between the two is well illustrated by the methods of practising with them. In learning to work a gun the gunners fire at a vertical target just as those of you who practise shooting at a miniature range fire at a target of paper placed vertically against a wall. The target for howitzer practice, on the other hand, is a square marked out on the level ground, and the object of the gunners is to see how great a proportion of a given number of shots they can drop inside that square. Of course, being so much shorter the howitzers cannot throw a shell so far or at such a high velocity as the naval guns, but that can to a certain extent be compensated for by using a higher explosive for the propellant. That, however, involves greater stresses in the tube when firing takes place and also calls for stronger foundations in order that the aim may be steady. A great part, too, of the velocity of a naval shell is required for the penetration of the armour, whereas against forts or earthworks it is sufficient if the shell "gets there." Moreover, generally speaking, it is possible to get much nearer to a fortress or entrenched position for the purpose of attacking it than it is to an enemy ship on the sea. Except for the occasional help of a mist there is no "cover" to be obtained at sea, while on land the ground must be very flat indeed if there is no low hill or undulation behind which a gun can be set up unnoticed. The Austrians cherish a piece of steelwork from one of the forts of Antwerp which they smashed with a shell from one of their big howitzers at a range of seven miles. They evidently were able to get their big howitzers within that comparatively short distance of the Antwerp fortifications without being molested. [Illustration: A GERMAN AUTOMATIC PISTOL. The action is fully described on the illustration.] In this connection one often hears the word mortar used, and just a reference to that will be appropriate here. Many years ago short guns which threw their balls very high were in use, and because of their resemblance to the mortar which is used for pounding up things with the aid of a pestle these were termed mortars. Later a man named Howitzer introduced a type of gun which was something of a compromise between the long thin gun and the short stubby mortar. As time has gone on, however, the mortars have grown in length while the howitzers have shortened, until to-day the two names are used almost indiscriminately to denote the same thing. Hence the giant howitzers of the Austrians are often spoken of as the "Skoda" mortars, Skoda being the name of the factory where they were made. At one time many people wondered why the Germans did not put some of these huge mortars on their battleships: many thought that they would do so, and that by that means they would demolish our navy as they had already smashed the Belgian forts. The reason they did not is, no doubt, the very simple one, that our naval guns would have probably sunk their ships before the howitzers could have reached ours, because if they had attempted to make up for the shortness of the weapons by using higher explosives, these mortars would, there is little doubt, have knocked to pieces the ships on which they were mounted. The old-fashioned fortress, suddenly made "out-of-date" by the Skoda mortars, was usually armed with guns of the naval type. Sea-coast forts are always so armed. Nowadays, however, the inland fortress takes the form of a labyrinth of trenches and underground passages, combined with deeply excavated chambers known as dug-outs, and these do not fitly accommodate large guns at all. The guns are placed well back behind the trenches sheltered behind hills or woods, over which they hurl their shells. The chief defenders of the actual trench are the machine gun, which is little more than an automatic rifle on a stand, and the trench mortar. We are now in a position to sum up broadly the features of modern artillery. There is first the naval gun, the ideal gun, long and of great range, able to send forth its shells with great velocity. This gun appears again in the sea-coast forts, where the conditions are very much those which obtain on a ship and where the attacking party is of necessity a ship. In the field we have the field and horse artillery, which we may regard as the naval gun modified somewhat in order to make it easy to move about, so that it can accompany troops and support the operations of both infantry and cavalry. These light guns are supported by the field howitzers, which are also light and easily handled, and the guns of the 4·7 type, originally naval guns but now mounted on wheels and possessing a certain amount of mobility, not equalling the field guns it is true, but still very serviceable in a campaign. Then we have the howitzers of various sizes which have rendered the old-fashioned steel and concrete forts useless, and which are the chief weapons used in the modern trench warfare. It is these which blow in the walls of the trenches and dug-outs, shatter the barbed-wire entanglements and render it possible for the infantry to attack an entrenched position. Finally, we have the machine guns, each of which is equivalent to a considerable number of riflemen and which, with the trench mortars, form the chief defences of the actual trench itself. Of course these are only useful against attacks by infantry: they cannot in any way cope with the heavy artillery. That has to be dealt with by the opposing artillery posted away back behind the trenches. And now let us take a rather more close look at some of these weapons. Essentially each one is a steel tube. It may be a single tube or it may be several one outside another. It may even have a layer of wire between two tubes as many naval guns have. It is invariably (one small exception will be mentioned later) loaded at the breech or rear end and not through the muzzle as used to be the custom. For this purpose it needs a breech-block or door, which can be opened to put in the shell and explosive, and which can then be closed tightly so that it will not be driven out or burst open when the explosion takes place and also shall be gas tight so as not to let any of the force of the explosion escape. Then the gun must be mounted upon a carriage so that it can be quickly moved about. The lighter forms of artillery are fired when upon the same carriage upon which they travel. In years gone by the whole thing, carriage as well as gun, used to run back when the gun was fired, which was a great nuisance since it had to be got back into position again after each shot. To obviate this the gun is now mounted upon a slide, and it is the slide which is fitted to the carriage. Thus the gun can slide back without the carriage moving at all. The latter is made very strong, and shoes are provided at the end of chains which go under the wheels just like the "drag" which coaches and heavy carts have for use going down hills. There is also a part like a spade which can be driven down into the ground so that, what with the shoes and the spade, the carriage is fixed very firmly. The gun is kept at the front part of the slide by means of a powerful spring, which is compressed when the gun is fired but which, as the force of the recoil is spent, pushes the gun back to its original position once more. The spring is often reinforced by a cylinder and a piston with compressed air or water behind it, acting after the manner of those door checks with which we are all familiar, its function being to steady the motion of the gun and to let it go gently back to its place without slamming, just as the door check prevents a door from slamming. By this means the gun is returned automatically after each shot to practically the same position which it occupied before, so that it does not need re-aiming each time, but only a slight readjustment if even that. The result of this is that such a gun can be fired very rapidly. In fact, it can be fired just as fast as the gunners can keep on reloading it. The big Skoda mortars owed their mobility to the clever way in which they were constructed. The gun tube itself, the support for it or mounting, and the steel foundation were each fitted to a special motor-driven trolley. The steel foundation was dumped down on the ground, which of course was prepared for it in advance, then the mounting was run right on to it so that it simply needed bolting down and finally the tube was hoisted by specially prepared appliances into its place. It is said that the whole operation occupied less than an hour. For firing, these mortars of course are pointed at a very high angle, almost like an astronomical telescope. No doubt the gunners have many jokes about "shooting the moon" and so on, for that is just what they seem to be attempting. For loading, however, they are lowered into a horizontal position: the shell comes up on a small hand-truck, is raised by a specially designed jack until it is level with the breech, and is then pushed into its place. The breech is then closed, the tube re-elevated, and all is ready for firing. Between these two forms of gun, the field gun on its light carriage, which not only bears it from place to place but forms its support while in action, and the great mortar carried in parts on specially made trolleys, there are now an enormous variety of guns and mortars adapted for the various purposes which experience in the Great War revealed. Artillery suffered many changes in the light of the South African campaign and of the Russo-Japanese war, but of far more importance have been the lessons learnt in Northern France and on the plains of Poland. To some extent these lessons have been learnt and profited by during the actual war, but there is no doubt that as men have time to think over them in the years of peace which are ahead many more developments will take place. Unless, that is, we are on the threshold of that happy time when guns and fighting material of all sorts will be looked upon as the relics of a bad and ruinous time now happily past. In conclusion, a passing reference must be made to the trench mortars and similar contrivances which have arisen as the result of the prolonged spell of trench warfare which no one had ever contemplated. These are in effect very short range mortars or howitzers, specially intended for throwing bombs from trench to trench. Some are simply the larger mortars on a small scale, but one has decidedly original features. This consists of a short light mortar into which the bombs are slipped through the muzzle, thus reverting to the old method of loading. The propellant is combined with the bomb and there is a percussion cap which fires it as soon as it strikes the bottom of the tube. Thus the operation is just about as simple as it can be: the man merely places the bomb in the upturned muzzle and lets it slide down. An instant later, up it comes again, to go sailing through the air into the trench of the enemy a hundred yards away. One must not conclude this chapter, however, without a reference to those useful weapons which are known among the soldiers as "Archibalds" and officially as anti-aircraft guns. These are perhaps the most familiar guns of all to the general public, since they were installed in many places in Britain for the purpose of dealing with the Zeppelins. No doubt not a few of my readers have had the experience of being awakened from their beauty sleep by the cracking of the anti-aircraft guns and have seen their shells bursting like squibs in the air. They are fairly long guns, not unlike field guns, but they are mounted upon special supports which enable them to be pointed at any angle so that they can fire right up into the sky. The sights, also, are somewhat different, being fitted with prisms, or reflectors, so that the gunners can look along the sights and align the gun upon an object overhead without lying on their backs. Much more could be said on this subject, but national interests forbid, so with this general review of modern artillery we must pass to another subject. CHAPTER IX THE GUNS THEY USE IN THE NAVY Both the great English-speaking nations are immensely proud of their navies. They can, on occasion, produce soldiers by the million of the very highest and most efficient type, but they never feel quite that pride and patriotic fervour over their soldiers that they do over their ships of war and their sailors. The guns, therefore, with which the ships are armed, always form a subject of great interest, especially those large ones which constitute the armament of the Dreadnought battleships and battle-cruisers. Let us first consider what is required in a naval gun, for it must be remembered that the naval and military weapons are different in some respects. Experience at the Dardanelles showed that even the guns of the _Queen Elizabeth_, the largest and most powerful then known, fresh from the finest factories, were not particularly successful against the Turkish forts. The Germans, too, set up what was probably a naval gun and occasionally dropped shells into Dunkirk with it at a range of twenty miles or so, but without causing much harm, and the fact that they only did it occasionally and then abandoned it altogether seems to indicate that in their opinion they were not doing much good with it. It must not be assumed from this that naval guns are bad guns or poor guns, however, but simply that they are made for a special purpose for which they are highly efficient, from which it follows almost as a natural consequence that they are somewhat less efficient when used for some other purpose. Their purpose is to pierce the hard steel armour with which warships are protected and then to explode in the enemy's interior, whereas in modern warfare the greatest military guns are chiefly required to blow a big hole in the ground or to shatter a block of concrete. In both cases the ultimate object is to carry a quantity of explosive into the enemy's territory and there explode it, but whereas the land gun has simply to do that and no more, the naval gun has to pierce thick armour-plate as well. And just think what that means. Many large ships have their vital parts protected by armour-plates twelve inches thick. Moreover, the armour-plates are made of very special steel, the finest that can be invented for the purpose. Vast sums of money have been expended in experimenting to find out just the best sort of steel for resisting penetration by shells. Some time ago I saw several pieces of armour-plate which had been used in one of these tests. They had been set up under conditions as nearly as possible the same as those obtaining on the side of a ship and then they had been fired at from varying distances, the effects of the various shots being carefully recorded. And that is only one experiment out of tens of thousands which have been tried again and again, while the steel manufacturers are always trying to improve and again improve the shell-resisting properties of their steel. Thus, we see, the presence of the steel armour which has to be perforated before the shell can do its work makes the task set before the naval gun somewhat different from that which confronts its military brother. These considerations result in the naval gun needing to have as flat a trajectory as possible and its projectiles the highest possible speed. Now trajectory, it may be useful to explain, is the technical term employed to denote the course of a projectile, which is always more or less curved. Let us imagine that we see a gun, pointed in a perfectly horizontal direction, and let us also imagine that by some miracle we have got rid of the force of gravity and also that there is no air. Under those conditions the shot from the gun would go perfectly straight and with undiminished velocity for ever and ever. Then let us imagine that the air comes into being. The effect of that is to act as a brake which gradually slows the shell down until finally it stops it. Theoretically, perhaps, it would never quite stop it, but for all practical purposes it would. Again, let us suppose that while the air is absent the force of gravity comes into play, what effect will that have? It will gradually pull the shell downwards out of its horizontal course, making it describe a beautiful curve. But, someone may think, does not a rapidly-moving body remain to some extent unaffected by gravity? Not at all: it falls just the same and just as quickly as if it were falling straight down. If our imaginary horizontal gun were set at a height of sixteen feet and a shell were just pushed out of it so that it fell straight down the shell would touch the ground in one second. If the ground were perfectly flat and the shell were fired so that it reached a point half a mile away _in one second_ it would strike the ground exactly half a mile away. You see, the horizontal motion due to the explosion in the gun and the downward motion due to gravity go on simultaneously and the two combined produce the curve. To make this quite clear, let us imagine two guns precisely alike side by side and both pointed perfectly horizontally. From one the shell is just pushed out: from the other it is fired at the highest velocity attainable: both those shells will fall sixteen feet or a shade more in one second, and if the ground were perfectly level both would strike the ground at the same moment although a great distance apart. Clearly, then, the faster the shell is travelling the more nearly horizontally will it move, for it will have less time in which to fall, and the slower the more curved will be its path, from which we see that the air by reducing the velocity causes the curve to become steeper and steeper as the shell proceeds. If, then, our gun is placed low down, as it must be on a ship, to get the longest range we must point it more or less upwards because otherwise the shell will fall into the water before it has reached its target. When we do that we complicate matters somewhat, for gravity tends to reduce the velocity while the shell is rising and to add to it again while it is falling. We need not go too deeply into that, however, so long as we realize that, whatever the conditions may be, the shell in actual use has to follow a curved course, first rising and then falling. The really important part about a shell's journey is the end. So long as it hits it really does not matter what it does on the way, and if it misses it is equally immaterial. The reason why we need to bother about the first part of the trip is because upon it depends the final result. Whatever the trajectory may be we see that the shell must necessarily arrive in a slanting direction. And the more steeply slanting that direction is _the less likely is the target to be hit_. If the shell went straight it would only be necessary to point the gun in the right direction and the object would be hit no matter how far away it might be. The more curved the course is, the more likely the shell is to fall either too near or too far, in the one case dropping into the water, in the other passing clear over the opposing ship. Let us look at it another way. Suppose the vital parts of a ship rise 20 feet out of the water and the shell arrives at such an angle that it falls 20 feet in 100 yards: then, if the ship be within a certain zone 100 yards wide it will be hit in a vital spot. If it be nearer the shell will pass over, if it be further the shell will fall into the water. That 100 yards is what is called the "danger zone." If the shell is falling less steeply, say, 20 feet in 200 yards, then the danger zone is increased to 200 yards and so on, which gives us the rule that the flatter the trajectory, or the more nearly straight the course of the shell the greater is the danger zone and the more likely is the enemy ship to be hit. We have established two facts, therefore, first, that the trajectory must be as flat as possible and, second, that to make it flat the velocity must be high. We can also see another reason for high velocity, namely, to give penetrating power. To obtain a high velocity the gun must be long, and consequently naval guns are always long, a fact which is very noticeable in the photographs of warships. The reason for this is quite obvious after a little thought. You could not throw a cricket ball very far if you could only move your hand through a distance of one foot. To get the best result you instinctively reach as far back as ever you can and then reach forward as far as you are able, so that the ball shall have as long a journey as possible in your hand. Perhaps you do not know it but all the time you are moving your hand with the ball in it you are putting energy into that ball, which energy carries it along after you have let go of it. And it is just the same with the shell in the gun. So long as it is in the gun energy is being added to it but as soon as it leaves the muzzle that ceases. After that it has to pursue its own way under the influence of the energy which has been imparted to it. The powder which is employed as the propellant or driving power is of such a nature and so adjusted as to quantity that as far as possible it shall give a comparatively slow steady push rather than a sudden shock, so as to make full use of the gun's length, the expanding gases following up the shell as it goes forward and keeping a constant push upon it. On the other hand, a gun can be too long, for no steel is infinitely strong and stiff, so that beyond a certain limit the muzzle of the gun would be likely to droop slightly of its own weight and so make the shooting inaccurate. The limit seems to be about 50 calibres or, in other words, fifty times the diameter of the bore. For a considerable time the standard big gun of the British Navy was the 12-inch, that being the calibre or diameter of the bore. The famous _Dreadnought_ had guns of that calibre and so had her immediate successors. The 12-inch gun of fifty calibres weighs 69 tons and fires a projectile weighing 850 lbs. which it hurls from its muzzle at a velocity of about 3000 feet per second. More recently the size has grown to 13½, 14 and even as great as 15 inches calibre, but we may for the moment take the 12-inch gun as typical of all these large guns and have a look at its construction. It is made of a special kind of steel known as nickel-chrome gun steel, formed by adding certain proportions of the two rare metals nickel and chromium to the mixture of iron and carbon which we ordinarily call steel. The metal is made after the manner described in another chapter and is cast into the form of suitably-sized ingots which are afterwards squeezed in enormous hydraulic presses into the rough shape required. Besides giving the metal the desired form this action has the effect of improving its quality. Since a gun is necessarily a tube it may be wondered why the steel is not cast straight away into that shape instead of into a solid block and the reason why that is not done is very interesting. It is found that any impurities in the metal--and it is impossible to make it without some impurities--collect in that part which cools last and obviously that part of a block which cools last is the centre. Thus the impurities gather together in the centre of the mass whence they are removed when that centre is cut away, whereas if the first casting were a tube they would collect in a part which would remain in the finished gun. The ingot, then, is cast and pressed roughly to shape. Then it is put into a lathe where it is turned on the outside and a hole bored right through the centre. But that is by no means all of the troubles through which this piece of steel has to pass. It undergoes a very stringent heat treatment, being alternately heated in a furnace to some precise temperature and then plunged into oil, whereby the exact degree of hardness required is attained. Moreover, this is only one of the tubes which go to make up the gun, which is a composite structure of four tubes placed one over another with a layer of tightly wound wire as well. First, there is the innermost tube, the whole length of the gun, then a second one outside that, usually made in two halves. Both are carefully made to fit, and then the outer is expanded by heat to enable it to be slidden over the inner one, after which on cooling it contracts and fits tightly. Outside this second tube is wound the wire, or more strictly speaking tape, for it is a quarter of an inch wide and a sixteenth thick. It is so strong that a single strand of it could sustain a ton and a half. It is carefully wound on; first several layers running the whole length of the gun and then extra layers where the greatest stresses come, that is to say, near the breech, for that has to withstand the initial shock of the explosion. Altogether about 130 miles of wire go on a single gun. The advantages of this form of construction are many. For one thing, a wire or strip can be examined throughout its whole length and any defect is sure to be found, whereas in a solid piece of steel, no matter how carefully it may be made, there may lurk hidden defects. Moreover, if a solid tube develops a crack anywhere it is liable to spread, whereas a few strands of wire may be broken without in any way affecting the rest. It has been found that even if a shell burst while inside one of these guns no harm is done to the men in the turret where it stands, a thing which cannot be said for guns composed entirely of tubes, so that the merit rests with the wire. A third advantage is that the wire can be wound on to the tube beneath it at precisely that tension which is calculated to give the best result, whereas in shrinking one tube on to another this cannot always be attained. Over the wire there come two more tubes not running the whole length but meeting and overlapping somewhat near the middle, so that at one point there are actually four concentric tubes besides the wire. At the rear end a kind of cap called the breech-piece covers over the ends of all the tubes, itself having a central hole into which fits the breech-block, one of the triumphs of modern engineering, of which more in a moment. While we have in mind the wire-wound form of construction it is interesting to note that something similar but in a crude form was practised sixty years or more ago. The guns of that era were some of them even of cast iron while the more refined consisted of a steel tube strengthened with coils of wrought iron. This iron was first rolled into flat bars, then it was made hot, and wound on spirally round an iron bar the same size as the tube. A little hammering converted this spiral into a tube which was then fitted round the steel tube. Thus, although very different there is still a distinct resemblance between this old method and the up-to-date wire-wound weapon. The manufacture of guns, it may be remarked, owes more to one man than to any other, namely, Mons. Gustave Canet, a French engineer who, having fought in the Franco-German War, decided to devote his engineering talents to developing the artillery of his native land. He spent many years in England but later established works at Havre for the manufacture of guns upon improved methods, finally merging his interests into those of the great French armament firm of Schneider of Creusot. By French and English artillerists at all events the name of Canet is regarded with reverence. But to get back to our naval gun. It will be clear that operations such as have been described, involving the handling of great tubes fifty feet or more in length, heating them as required, dipping them in oil while hot and so on, can only be carried out at works specially designed for the purpose. The furnaces where the tubes are heated are well-like formations in the ground, deep enough to take the tube vertically. To lift them in and out there have to be tall travelling cranes capable of catching the tube by its upper end and lifting it right out of the furnace so that its lower end clears the ground. To accomplish this with a little to spare the cranes need to be seventy feet or so high. Then there are deep pits full of oil so that a tube can be heated in a furnace, drawn out by a crane and quickly dropped into the adjacent oil bath. Likewise there have to be pits of a third kind wherein a cold tube can be set up while a hot one is dropped over it for the purpose of shrinking the latter on. Then, of course, there have to be lathes of gigantic dimensions capable of taking a length of nearly sixty feet and of swinging an object weighing anything up to fifty tons. But of those machines we can only pause to make mention, for we must pass on to the breech-block, in some ways the most interesting part of the gun. When it was first suggested to leave the back end of the gun open so that the powder and projectiles could be put in that way instead of through the muzzle, people at once foresaw how much would depend upon the arrangements for stopping up the hole while the gun was fired. For, of course, the force of the explosion is exerted equally in all directions, backward just as much as forward, so that unless very securely fixed the stopper closing the breech would be liable to become a projectile travelling in the wrong direction. To fix such a thing securely enough to avoid accidents would surely take up too much time and so largely neutralize any advantage arising from its use. These fears were, indeed, to some extent justified by accidents which actually occurred with the early examples of breech-loading guns, and for that reason our own authorities for a time looked askance at breech-loaders. Now let us take a look at the breech-block of the 12-inch naval gun of to-day, which never blows out, not even when 350 lbs. of cordite go off just the other side of it. The explosion hurls an 850-pound shell at the rate of 8000 feet per second but it never stirs the breech-block. Yet it can be opened and closed so quickly, including the necessary fastening-up after closing, that shots can be fired from the gun at the rate of one every fifteen seconds. The breech-block partakes of the nature of a plug and also of a door. It swings upon hinges like the latter but its shape more resembles the former. If we want to make such a thing very secure we usually make it in the form of a screw with many threads, but that entails turning it round many times and that takes time. Given plenty of time to screw the breech-block into its place and there would never have been any anxiety as to the possibility of its blowing out, but there is not time. The problem, therefore, was to get the strength of a screw combined with quickness of action. This dilemma is avoided in the following simple manner. The breech-block is given a screw thread on its exterior surface, and the hole in the breech-piece is given a similar screw-thread on its inner surface, just as if the one were to be laboriously screwed into the other after the manner of an ordinary screw in machinery. Then four grooves are cut right across the threads on the block and similarly on the breech-piece, so that at four different places there is no thread left. In other words, instead of the thread running round and round continuously, each turn is divided up into four sections with sections of plain unthreaded metal in between. Thus in a certain position the block can be pushed into the hole without any threads engaging at all, for each strip of threaded block passes over an unthreaded strip in the hole and vice versa, in other words, the threads on the one part miss those on the other part. Yet an eighth of a turn serves to make all the threads engage and the thing is held almost as securely as if it were just an ordinary screw with threads its whole length. The block is carried upon a hinged arm so that although it can be turned in this manner it can also be swung back freely when necessary. Combined with the breech-block is a pneumatic contrivance which blows a powerful jet of air through the gun every time the breech is opened, thereby cleaning away the effects of the last explosion. Each of these great guns is mounted upon a slide so that when it is fired it can slide back, thereby exhausting the effect of the recoil, yet can be returned instantly to its original position. Indeed, this return is brought about quite automatically by the agency of springs, compressed air and hydraulic power. Thus the gun fires, slides back, returns and is at once ready for the next shot. It is trained, or pointed in a horizontal plane, by turning the turret in which it stands but the correct elevation is gained by the use of telescopic sights. The principle of these sights is very simple. Imagine a graduated circle fixed to the side of the gun. Pivoted at the centre of the circle is a small telescope. The telescope can be turned round to any angle upon the circle and it can then be clamped at that particular angle. The range having been given to the officer in command of the gun from the range-finding station on another part of the ship, the telescope is set to the correct angle. Then the gun is elevated or depressed until the ship being aimed at is precisely in the centre of the field of view of the telescope, in other words, until the telescope is pointing exactly at the ship. Then the gun is fired. The effect, therefore, is this. The telescope always points (while the gun is being fired) at the object aimed at, but the gun is pointed upwards at a certain angle, which angle depends upon how the telescope is set upon the divided circle. Thus the setting of the telescope for a given range produces the correct upward tilt of the gun for that range. The breech-block carries a trigger and hammer arrangement whereby the firing can be done and also an electrical arrangement so that an electric spark can be employed. Both these firing contrivances are so made that they cannot be operated until the breech-block has been inserted and _made secure_. Thus a premature explosion is guarded against. CHAPTER X SHELLS AND HOW THEY ARE MADE Modern warfare seems to resolve itself very largely into a question of which side can procure the most shells. During the great war there was a time when the British and their allies were hard pressed because they had not sufficient shells. The enemy had in that matter stolen a march upon them and had during the winter, when military activity is at its minimum, rapidly produced large supplies of high-explosive shells. Discovering their lack the British set about remedying it in true British fashion. It is quite characteristic of this strange people to let the enemy get ahead at the commencement, after which they pull themselves together and put on a spurt, so to speak, and after that the enemy had better prepare for the worst, for defeat is only a question of time. So, finding themselves short of shells, they set to and dotted the whole country in an incredibly short time with huge factories entirely devoted to making shells. Older factories also were adapted to the same purpose. Places intended and normally used for the manufacture of the most peaceable things--ploughs, gramophones and piano parts for example--were soon turning out shells or parts thereof by the thousand. Electric-light works, waterworks, cotton mills, technical schools, all sorts of places where, for doing their own repairs or for some similar reason, there happened to be a lathe or two, all these were organized and in a few weeks they too were working night and day "something to do with shells." Meanwhile other factories were springing up for the purpose of making explosives while others again were erected for producing the acids and other chemicals necessary for the explosive works; and yet another kind of works, the filling factories, came into being as if by magic and thousands of girls flocked from far and near to these places, there to fill the shells with the explosives. Even the soldiers did not realize a few years ago how important the supply of shells was going to be. The rifle has fallen from its old place of importance while the gun and the shell have risen to the first place. What, then, is a shell? It is what its name implies, a case covering something else, just as the shell of a fish covers its owner. It is a hollow cylinder of steel with certain things inside it. Its chief function is to hold these other things and to be shot out of a gun carrying them with it to their destination. You want to cause an explosion in an enemy's ship. You cannot get near enough to put the explosives there by hand, for he will not let you, so you put them into a steel shell and then hurl the whole thing at him out of a gun. [Illustration: BOMB THROWING. One of the most striking things about the war was the re-invention of the bomb thrown by hand. This officer hurled bombs at the enemy for twenty-four hours continuously.] In the attempt to prevent your doing him any harm by thus throwing boxes of explosives at him, the enemy clothes the sides of his most valuable and important ships with thick steel plates, wherefore you have to make your shell strong and tough so that it shall not splinter against the armour but shall on the contrary bore its way through, finally exploding in the interior of the ship. If it is not a ship that you are attacking but, say, an earthwork or an arrangement of trenches, then you do not need to penetrate steel armour and your shell can be thinner and of lighter construction. It still needs to be strong, however, for it has another function besides simply carrying the explosive. It must hold the force of the explosion in for a moment while it gathers force so that when the hour comes the pent-up energy may strike all round with the utmost violence. Even the most powerful explosives are comparatively feeble if they go off in the open. By holding them in check for a moment and then letting their force loose suddenly you get a much more forceful blow. Shells which contain only an explosive are called common shells or high-explosive shells. Shrapnel shells constitute another type in which the force of the explosion is simply employed to release a number of round bullets, which strike mainly because of the velocity which they derive from the original motion of the shell. These are above all things man-killing shells, for their result is akin to a volley of bullets at close range. We can thus sum up the chief types of shell as follows: the naval shell which has to be capable of penetrating armour: the high-explosive shell which must be able to break up earthworks and blow down the walls of trenches: and the shrapnel shell which scatters a shower of bullets and is most useful in attacks upon bodies of men rather than upon material structures. Some shells have their propellent explosive combined with them just as the familiar rifle cartridge contains the propellant combined with the bullet. In the larger sizes, however, it is much more convenient to have the propellant in a separate cartridge, which can be handled separately and loaded into the gun separately. As has been already explained, the propellant is a "powder" which gives a steady push rather than a destructive blow: moreover, it is practically smokeless, so as not to "give away" the position of the gun to the enemy. The "high explosive," however, shatters and usually makes a dense smoke, so that the observers can see where it fell and report to the gunners whether or not they have got the range. Soldiers' letters have told us of the "black Marias" and "coal boxes" used by the Germans, those terms being simply soldiers' nick-names arising no doubt from the fact that certain particular shells are filled with "tri-nitro-toluene" which gives a black smoke. Clearly, smoke, which is most objectionable in the propellant, is a positive advantage in the bursting charge. And now let us take a glimpse at the manufacture of one of these terrible missiles. An ingot of shell-steel is first cast as described in an earlier chapter. Since impurities are apt to rise, while the metal is liquid, the top of the ingot is always cut off and discarded. This waste material is used for many other purposes, in which a chance flaw would not be a serious matter, under the title of "shell-discard" steel. The lower part is then heated and passed through a rolling mill, a machine very similar in principle to the domestic mangle, the rollers being of iron with suitable grooves cut in them. A few passages through this machine transforms the ingot into a thick round bar. This is then sawn into short pieces called billets, each of which is the right size to form a shell. Again heated, a powerful press drives a pointed bar through the softened steel, thereby converting the short billet into a rough tube. Another press then slightly closes in one end, making it resemble a bottle without a bottom and with the neck broken off. The rough forging is then ready to be machined, an operation which is performed in a lathe. The outside is made perfectly round and smooth and of precisely the right size. The inside is also bored out to the correct diameter and finished off to an exceeding smoothness so as to avoid the possibility of any rough places irritating the explosive which in due time will be filled into it. For the same reason, the inside, when finished, is varnished in a certain way and with a certain varnish. The formation of this varnish is one of those little thought of but highly important services which alcohol renders to us, as mentioned elsewhere. The smaller end (that which has already been partially squeezed in) is bored out and screwed for the reception of the nose-bush, while the other end is recessed for the reception of the plate which forms the bottom. Most of these operations have to be very accurately carried out and, to ensure that that is so, gauges are continually employed to check the work. These gauges are based upon a very simple principle, known as the "limit" principle. This is both interesting and important, sufficiently so to merit a more detailed reference. It must first be realized that no two things are alike and no measurement is perfectly correct. When we lightly speak of two things being "alike" we really mean that for the purpose contemplated they are nearly enough alike. Two things might be "alike" for one purpose and yet be so unlike as to be useless for another. What the authorities do in the case of shells, therefore, and what is done nowadays in many branches of engineering, is to recognize this fact and at the same time overcome the difficulty by stating what difference is permissible. In other words, instead of saying that a thing must be a certain size, it is required to fall between two limits: it must not be more than one or less than the other. For example, suppose a hole is required to be nominally an inch in diameter it may be specified that it shall not exceed an inch plus one-thousandth or fall short of an inch minus one-thousandth. In such a case a variation of a thousandth of an inch either way is permitted. The permitted variation may be more than that, or it may be less and be measured in ten-thousandths, it all depends upon circumstances. Clearly in every case it is desirable to permit as large a variation as is consistent with a good result. Now to make measures with the degree of accuracy just mentioned is not easy. One can just about see through a crack a thousandth of an inch wide if held up to a bright light. How then can dimensions such as these be dealt with easily and quickly in the rough conditions of a large workshop? Let us again think of that one-inch hole and we shall see how simply and easily it is done. The gauge in such a case would be shaped somewhat like a dumb-bell, one end being the "go" end and the other the "not-go" end. The former is made to agree as nearly as possible with the lower limit, the other with the higher limit, and all the inspector has to do is to try first one end in the hole and then the other. One must "go" in and the other must "not-go." So long as that happens he knows that the hole is correct within the prescribed limits. If, on the other hand, both go in, then he knows the hole is too large, or if neither goes in he knows it is too small. It may be urged by some acute reader that the gauges themselves cannot be correct, and that is quite true, but it is possible, by great care and laborious methods, to produce gauges which are correct to within far narrower limits than those mentioned. In the case of outside dimensions the gauges take the form of a thumb and finger capable of spanning the object to be measured, and in that case also two are used, one of which must "go" and the other "not-go." By methods such as these the shells are measured and examined. One of the most important features of a shell is its driving band. In the old days of round cannon balls it is said that the gunners used to wrap greasy rag round each so as to make it fit the cannon and to prevent the force of the explosion to some extent wasting itself by blowing past the ball. That is one of the functions of the driving band. It is made of copper which is comparatively soft, and it forms a fairly tight fit in the bore of the gun, so that while the shell is free enough to slide out of the gun it is tight enough to prevent the loss of any of the driving force of the explosive. Its second purpose is to give the necessary spinning action to the shell. The old cannon ball suffered from the fact that it offered a considerable surface to the air in proportion to its weight. The idea arose, therefore, of making projectiles cylindrical and with a pointed nose, so that while the weight might be increased the resistance to the air might be even reduced. But it was clearly no use doing this unless the thing could be made to travel point foremost. Now for some rather mysterious reason, if you shoot a cylindrical object out of a gun, it will turn head over heels in the air, unless you give it a spinning motion. This motion, however, because of a gyroscopic effect, keeps the shell point first all the time. It has another effect, too, known as "air-boring." A spinning shell seems actually to bore its way through the air. Probably this is due to a centrifugal action, the spinning shell throwing the air outwards from itself and so to some extent sucking the air away out of its own path. Whether that be the true explanation or not, the fact remains that the spinning shell makes its way through the air better than a non-spinning one would do. The gun, therefore, has formed in its bore a very slow screw-thread called "rifling," from a French word meaning a screw. And it is the second function of the copper band to catch this rifling and by it be turned as the shell proceeds along the barrel. The soft copper conforms to the shape of the rifling and so itself becomes in a sense a screw engaging with the rifling. This band is situated near the base of the shell, lying in a groove turned in the shell for its reception. To prevent the band turning round without turning the shell there is a wavy groove turned in the bottom of the larger groove, and the band, being put on hot, is squeezed into the latter by a powerful press. The nose-bush is a little fitting of brass which screws into the smaller end of the shell and it has a hole in its centre into which another brass fitting, the nose itself, is screwed. The base of the shell is closed with a little disc of steel plate. People sometimes wonder why the original forging is not made solid at the bottom so as to save the necessity for this disc, but the reason is that if that were done defects might very possibly arise in the steel in the centre which, since it is the very spot whereon the propellant acts, might let some of the heat or force of the propellant through, causing a premature explosion of the charge inside the gun itself instead of among the ranks of the enemy. In the case of naval shells, the nose is not of brass but of a soft kind of steel. One might expect it to be of the very hardest steel, since it has to pierce the hard armour, but experience has shown that the soft nose is better than a hard one. The reason probably is that a hard nose splinters, whereas a soft one spreads out on striking the armour and then acts as a protection to the body of the shell behind it. In these shells, too, the fuse which explodes the charge is placed in the base. In the others it is in the nose, but clearly it could not be so placed in the armour-piercing shell. It is interesting to mention that the propellent "powder" has combined in it some vaseline or other greasy matter which acts as a lubricant between the gun and the shell when firing takes place. Shrapnel is so different from the other types of shell that it merits a short paragraph or two to itself. Instead of being filled, as the others are, solely with explosive, the front part of it accommodates a considerable number of small round bullets, behind which comes a charge of gunpowder. The front half of the shell is separate from the back part, the two being connected by rivets of soft iron wire, so that a sudden shock can rend them apart. The shell is fired from the gun and comes flying along: suddenly, owing to the action of the fuse, the gunpowder explodes: the case then flies in two, the bullets are liberated and fall in a shower. In the South African War, where fortifications were few, these shells were very effective, but against fortifications, and particularly against trenches and barbed wire, big explosive shells are of much greater value. CHAPTER XI WHAT SHELLS ARE MADE OF The body of a shell is made of steel of a fairly strong variety. That is to say, it is stronger than that used for shipbuilding and for bridges and such work: but it is less so than some of the higher grades of steel, such as that used for making wire ropes. Owing to so much of this steel being rolled during the war, "shell quality" has come to be as well known to the general engineer as any of the many varieties which he has been accustomed to since his apprentice days. Many people wondered, at one time, why the cheaper and more easily worked cast iron could not be used for shells. There was a period when the steel works were quite unable to cope with the demands for steel, yet the iron foundries were crying out for work. This question then arose in many minds, Why not make cast iron shells? The answer is that cast iron is too weak: it would blow into fragments too soon. Just think what a shell is and what it has to do. It is a metal case filled with explosive. It is thrown from a gun and is intended to blow itself to pieces on arrival at its destination. It is that self-destruction which carries destruction to all around as well. It is necessary, in order to obtain the best result, that an appreciable time should elapse between the ignition of the explosive and the bursting of the case. The force of the most sudden explosion is not really developed at once, but takes an appreciable time. After ignition, therefore, as the explosion gradually becomes complete, the pressure inside the shell is growing, and too weak a shell would go to pieces before the maximum pressure had been attained. Thus much of the energy of the explosion would simply be liberated into the air instead of being employed in hurling the fragments of shell with enormous force. That is, of course, not a complete explanation of the whole action of a high-explosive shell, but it indicates generally the reason why a special quality of steel is required in order to get the best results. Steel having been dealt with in another chapter, we will pass to the other metals which play important if not essential parts in the production of modern projectiles. So important are several of these that the lack of one or two of them would, under modern conditions, mean certain defeat for a nation. Let us first of all take copper, of which is made the driving bands of the shells and which in combination with zinc forms brass of which noses and other important parts are made. Its ore is found in many parts of the world, notably in the United States, Chile and Spain. The ores are of several kinds, the simpler ones to deal with being oxides and carbonates of copper, meaning compounds of copper with oxygen and with oxygen and carbon respectively. It will be remembered that ores of iron are usually of the same nature, namely, oxides and carbonates, and consequently we find that the method of obtaining copper from these ores resembles the methods employed to obtain iron from its ores. The ore is thrown into a large furnace, like the blast furnaces of the ironworks, and in the heat of the fire the bonds between copper and oxygen are loosened and the superior attractions of the carbon in the fuel entice the oxygen away, leaving the metal comparatively pure. Unfortunately, however, copper is found most plentifully in combination with sulphur with which it forms what is termed sulphide. This copper sulphide is called by miners "copper pyrites." Another trouble is that mixed with the copper pyrites there is usually more or less of iron pyrites, or sulphate of iron, so that to obtain the copper not only has the sulphur to be got rid of but also the iron. This complicates the operations very much, the ore having to be subjected to repeated roastings and meltings during which the sulphur passes off in the form of sulphur dioxide (a material from which sulphuric acid can be obtained), leaving oxygen in its place. Thus the copper sulphide becomes copper oxide, after which the oxygen is carried away by carbon, leaving the relatively pure metal. Moreover, at each operation various substances are thrown into the furnace called fluxes, which do not mingle with the metal but float on the top in the form of slag, and into the slag the iron passes, so that finally the copper is obtained alone. Zinc is another important material for shell-making. Its ores used to be found in great plenty in Silesia, but the chief source of supply is now Australia. It is what is called "zinc blende," and consists of zinc sulphide, or zinc and sulphur in combination. In all these names, it may be interesting to mention, at this point, the termination "ide" indicates a compound of two substances, so that we can safely conclude that the "ides" consist of the two elements named in their titles and no others. Thus zinc sulphide is zinc and sulphur and nothing else, iron sulphide is iron and sulphur, copper oxide is copper and oxygen, and so on. The blende is first roasted in huge furnaces specially built for the purpose. To ensure its being thoroughly treated it has to be "rabbled" or turned over and over, since otherwise all of it might not be brought into contact with the necessary oxygen. At one time done by men with rakes, it is now generally accomplished by mechanical means. A description of one such furnace will be of interest. It consists of a long rectangular building of brickwork bound together with steel framework. Inside it is divided up into low chambers, the roof of each forming the floor of the one above. At intervals along its length mighty shafts of iron pass up from underneath right through all the floors, emerging finally above the topmost, while along underneath the furnace there runs a shaft the action of which turns the vertical shafts slowly round and round. Attached to the vertical shafts are long strong arms of iron, one arm to each floor, and upon the arms are placed rabbles, as they are termed, pieces of iron shod sometimes with fireclay, resembling most of any familiar objects a small ploughshare. As the arms slowly revolve, at the rate of once or twice per minute, the arms are carried round and round and the rabbles plough up and turn over and over the layer of ore lying upon the floor. There are arms on the top of the furnace, too, sometimes, where the ore is first laid so that it may be dried by the heat escaping from the furnace beneath, an interesting example of economy effected by utilizing heat which would otherwise be wasted. The whole of the furnace, from end to end and on every floor, is thus swept continually by the rotating arms with their dependent rabbles, and the latter are cunningly shaped so that they not only turn the ore over and over, but gradually pass it along the different floors or hearths. It is fed automatically by a mechanical feeder which pushes it on, a small quantity at a time, to the drying hearth on the top. Then the rabbles take charge of it and gradually pass it from the area swept by one shaft to that of the next until it has passed right along the top and has become thoroughly dried. Arrived there it falls through a hole on to the topmost hearth or floor, along which it travels by the same means but in the contrary direction until it again falls through a hole on to the top floor but one. And so it goes on until at last, fully roasted, it falls from the bottom floor of the furnace into trucks or other provision for carrying it away. Some kinds of ore require to be heated by means of gas which is generated in a "gas-producer" near by. In others, however, the sulphur in the ore acts as the fuel, and so the furnace, having been once started, can be kept up for long periods without the expenditure of any coal at all. Very little attention is needed by furnaces such as these, so that with no fuel to pay for and very little labour, they are extremely economical. Owing to the great heat, too, the arms would stand a very good chance of getting melted were they not kept cool by a continual stream of water flowing through the shafts and arms. This furnishes a continual supply of hot water which is sometimes used for other purposes in the works. The process of roasting, whether carried on in furnaces such as these or not, results in the formation of oxide instead of sulphide; in other words, the sulphur is turned out and oxygen takes its place. The dislodged sulphur then joins up with some more oxygen and forms sulphur dioxide, which can be led away to the sulphuric acid plant and there, by union with water, turned into that extremely valuable substance, sulphuric acid. We cannot, however, treat zinc oxide as we would iron oxide or copper oxide, for zinc is volatile, and so, instead of accumulating in the bottom of a blast furnace as the iron and copper do, would pass off up the chimney. The oxide is therefore mixed with coal or some other form of carbon and placed in retorts made of fireclay. These retorts are fixed in rows one above the other like the retorts at a gasworks, and hot gases from a gas-producer down below pass around and among them. To the mouth of each retort is fitted a condenser, also made of fireclay. Now what happens in the retorts is this: the heat loosens the bonds between the zinc and the oxide, the latter passing into union with some carbon from the coal. The zinc at the same time becomes vapour and passes into the condenser, the lower temperature of which turns it into a liquid which the workmen remove at intervals in ladles. On being poured into moulds and allowed to solidify this metal is called by the name of "spelter," which bears to zinc the same relation that pig-iron does to the more highly developed forms of iron. Spelter is simply zinc in its crudest form. Tin, although less important in war than copper and zinc, plays a not unimportant part. It has been found for centuries in Cornwall. The Romans used to trade with the natives of Britain for tin. Although considerable quantities of it is still obtained from there, the greatest tin-producing country of all at present is the Federated Malay States. Australia also furnishes ore, as does Bolivia and Nigeria. In Cornwall the ore occurs as rock in veins or lodes filling up what must once have been fissures in granite rocks. That near the surface has long been taken, so that to-day the mines are very deep and costly to work. Some can only afford to operate when the market price of tin is above a certain limit. Much of the ore from the newer districts--the Malay States, for example--is in small fragments mixed with gravel in beds near the surface. Such is called alluvial or stream tin, since the deposits were undoubtedly put in their present position by streams or rivers. So long as they last these easily accessible alluvial deposits will always be cheaper to work than the deep mines. On the other hand, they may give out, and recent explorations underground seem to indicate that there is still much valuable ore not only of tin but of other metals too, to be obtained from the old mines of Cornwall. The ore of tin, like so many other ores, is generally oxide. It is first roasted to expel sulphur and arsenic which are often present as impurities, and then it is melted in a reverberatory furnace such as that described for the manufacture of wrought iron. As usual, the oxygen combines with carbon, the impurities form slag which floats on the top, and the pure metal falls to the bottom of the furnace from whence it can be drawn off. Mixed with or in the neighbourhood of tin ore there is sometimes found another mineral called wolfram, which plays an extremely important part in modern warfare, so much so that the British and other Governments engaged in the war were at times hard put to it to find enough. Its value resides in the fact that it contains tungsten, an element which has wonderful powers in hardening steel. It consists of tungsten and oxygen, but is not an oxide since there is also iron in the partnership. This fact is very useful, however, since it enables the particles of wolfram to be picked out from the mass of other stuff among which they are found by a magnet. There are some very wonderful machines called magnetic separators, made for this express purpose. In one, with which I am familiar, there is an endless band stretched horizontally upon two rollers. One of the rollers being driven round the belt travels along so that the mineral being fed on to it in a stream is carried along under several magnets. These magnets are very different from the ordinary magnet, inasmuch as they are revolving. We might almost describe them as small magnetized flywheels. As they spin round they pick up slightly the particles of ore which contain iron, but have no effect at all upon those which do not contain iron. They do not actually lift the particles up on to themselves: they just exercise a slight pull upon them, and by virtue of the fact that they are revolving, pull them off the band and throw them to one side. The wheels can be set closer or farther from the belt at will so as to make them act more or less strongly, and thus the most magnetic particles can be separated from those less magnetic, these latter being still kept separate from the wholly non-magnetic particles. Thus by simple and purely mechanical means are the precious bits of wolfram obtained from the other less valuable or worthless minerals with which they are mixed. The same method is used with other minerals besides wolfram: it can be applied to all those which exhibit in some small degree the magnetic properties which we usually associate with iron. This sorting out of one mineral from others continually crops up in connection with nearly all the metals except iron. Iron is practically the only one whose ore occurs in vast masses which need simply to be dug up and thrown into the furnace. The others, where they occur as rock in veins, have to be crushed to detach what is wanted from what is not wanted, and then the two have to be sorted in some way. Magnetic separation is but one of these ways. Another takes advantage of the fact that we seldom find two things together which have precisely the same specific gravity. Consequently, if we throw the mixture on to a shaking table the heavier particles will behave differently from the lighter ones and the two will separate. The same result can be obtained by throwing the mixture into a stream of water, the water acting differently upon the lighter and upon the heavier particles. Another way which may be mentioned is founded upon the fact that some things can be readily wetted with oil while others throw the oil off and refuse to be wetted by it. If a mixture of these two sorts of thing be stirred violently in a suitable oily liquid the former will be found eventually in the froth, while the latter will sink to the bottom. All these different methods are employed, as they are found necessary in preparing the ores of the various metals to which we have been referring. Except in the case of alluvial ores which have been broken already by the action of ancient streams of water, nearly all ores (except iron) have to be crushed before the ores can be separated out. Some of this work is done by the very simplest contrivances, showing how in some cases invention has almost come to a stop through the machines having been reduced to their simplest form. A notable instance of this is the stamp mill, in which heavy timbers are lifted up by machinery and then allowed to slide down upon the ore, just like gigantic pestles. More elaborate grinding machines are sometimes used, however, but it is impossible to mention them all here. The action of sorting out the fragments of ore from the miscellaneous assortment of crushed rocks is termed "concentrating," and the sorted ores are called "concentrates." Another metal which has proved itself of immense importance in war is aluminium, and it fittingly comes at the close of the list since it is dealt with in a manner peculiar to itself. Practically all the others are obtained from their ores by means of heat and heat alone. Aluminium is obtained by electricity acting in the process called electrolysis. It is surprising to learn that aluminium is one of the very commonest things on the face of the earth. Clay and many common rocks are very largely made of it. Clay, to be precise, is a silicate of alumina, a term which is interesting when it is explained. Silica is the name given to oxide of silicon. Sand is mostly silica. Alumina, too, is oxide of aluminium. Silicate of alumina is a combination of the two. Any clay, therefore, could be used as an ore from which to obtain aluminium, but of course there are certain minerals specially suitable for the purpose, since in them the metal is plentiful and easily extracted. In another chapter reference is made to the production of caustic soda from a solution of common salt by electrolysis. The same principle, precisely, is used to obtain the metal aluminium from its ore, which is generally an oxide. Common salt, let me remind you, is sodium and chlorine combined. When you dissolve it in water it becomes ionized, which means that each molecule of salt splits up into two ions one of which is electrically positive and the other electrically negative. Then, when we introduce two electrodes into the solution and connect them to a battery or dynamo, all the positive ions go to one electrode and all the negative ions to the other. We cannot dissolve aluminium ore in water, but we can in a bath of molten cryolite, and for some reason or other, whether because of the heat or not we cannot say, the ore becomes ionized, the aluminium atoms being one sort and the oxygen atoms the other sort. These ions then sort themselves out, the oxygen ions being taken into combination with the carbon rod which forms the positive electrode, while the metal ions collect upon the negative electrode. Since this latter is a slab of carbon which forms the bottom of the vessel in which the process is carried on, the result is that pure aluminium gradually accumulates in the bottom of the vessel and can be drawn off from time to time. Aluminium is always produced in places where electric power can be obtained cheaply, such as near waterfalls. CHAPTER XII MEASURING THE VELOCITY OF A SHELL In at least two of the preceding chapters of this book reference has been made to the speed at which a shell fired from a gun travels through the air. Such velocities as 3,000 feet per second have been mentioned in this connection, and some readers are sure to have wondered how such measurements could possibly be made. Possibly some sceptics have even supposed that they were not measured at all but simply estimated in some way or other. They are actually measured, however, and by very simple and ingenious means. Needless to say, electricity plays a very important part in this wonderful achievement. In fact, without the aid of electricity it is difficult to see how it could be done at all. People often ask how quickly electricity travels, as if when we sent a telegraph signal along a wire a little bullet, so to speak, of electricity were shot along the wire like the carriers of the pneumatic tubes in the big drapers' shops. That is quite a misconception, for in reality the circuit of wire is more like a pipe full of electricity, and when we set a current flowing what we do is to set the whole of that electricity moving at once. If we think of a circular tube full of water with a pump at one spot in the circuit, we see that as soon as the water begins to move anywhere it moves everywhere. Moreover, if it stops at one point it stops simultaneously at every other point. While practically this is the case it is theoretically not quite so, for the inertia of the water when it is suddenly started or stopped no doubt causes a slight distortion of the tube itself resulting in a very slight (quite imperceptible) retardation of the movement of the water. Electricity also has a property comparable to the inertia which we are familiar with in the objects around us, and there is also a property in every conductor which to a certain extent resembles the elasticity of the water-pipe, whereby it may for a moment be bulged out. In a short wire, however (up to a mile or so), particularly if the flow and return parts of the circuit be twisted together, this electrical inertia practically vanishes and consequently we may say that for all practical purposes the current starts or stops, as the case may be, at precisely the same moment in every part of the circuit. That fact is of great value when, as in the case we are now discussing, we want to compare very exactly two events occurring very near together as to time but far apart as to place. [Illustration: BOMB-THROWERS AT WORK. Many kinds of bombs are used. One has a metal head and a handle about a foot long, with a streamer to ensure correct flight; another form resembles a brush when it is flying through the air; and a third, known as "the egg," is oval in form.] We need to compare the time when the shell leaves the gun with the time when it passes another point, say, one hundred yards away, and then again another point, say one hundred yards further on still. Supposing, then, a velocity of 3,000 feet per second, the time interval between the first point and the second and between the second and third will be somewhere about a tenth of a second. So we shall need a timepiece of some sort which will not only measure a tenth of a second, but will measure for us a very small _difference_ between two periods, each of which is only about a tenth of a second and which will be very nearly alike. That represents a degree of accuracy exceeding even what the astronomers, those princes of measurers, are accustomed to. This exceedingly delicate timepiece is found in a falling weight. So long as the thing is so heavy that the air resistance is negligible, we can calculate with the greatest nicety how long a weight has taken to fall through a given distance. Near the muzzle of the gun there is set up a frame upon which are stretched a number of wires so close together that a shell cannot get past without breaking at least one of them. These wires are connected together so as to form one, and through them there flows a current of electricity the action of which, through an electro-magnet in the instrument house, holds up a long lead weight. At some distance away, say one hundred yards, there is a similar frame also electrically connected to an electro-magnet in the same instrument house. This second magnet, when energized by current from the frame, holds back a sharp point which, under the action of a spring, tends to press forward and scratch the lead weight. The third frame is likewise connected to a third magnet controlling a point similar to the other. To commence with, current flows through all three frames so that all three magnets are energized. The gun is then fired and immediately the shell breaks a wire in the first frame, cutting off the current from the first magnet and allowing the weight to fall. Meanwhile, the shell reaches the second frame, breaking a wire there, with the result that the second magnet loses its power, lets go the point which it has been holding back and permits it to make a light scratch upon the falling weight. This action is followed almost immediately by a similar action on the part of the third magnet, resulting in a second scratch on the lead weight. The position of these two scratches on the weight and their distance apart gives a very accurate indication of the time taken by the shell to pass from the first screen to the second and from the second to the third. From those times it is possible to calculate the initial velocity of the shell and the speed at which it will move in any part of its course. Indeed, with those two times as data, it is possible to work out all that it is necessary to know about the behaviour of the shell. This is rendered practicable by the fact that the moment the wire is cut the magnet lets go, no matter what the distance of the screen from the instrument may be. But for the instantaneous action of the current, allowance of some sort would have to be made for the fact that one screen is farther than another and the whole problem would be made much more complicated. Even as it is, someone may urge that the magnets themselves possess inertia and will not let go quite instantaneously, but that can be overcome by making the magnets all alike so that the inertia will affect all equally. It is only necessary to have a switch which will break all the three circuits at the same moment (quite an easy thing to arrange) and then adjust all three magnets so that when this is operated they act simultaneously. After that they can be relied upon to do their duty quite accurately. Thus by a method which in its details is quite simple is this seemingly impossible measurement taken. CHAPTER XIII SOME ADJUNCTS IN THE ENGINE ROOM Before we deal with the subject of the engines employed in warfare, it may be interesting to mention two beautiful little inventions which have been made in connection with them. Let us take first of all a contrivance which tells almost at a glance the amount of work which the engines of a ship are doing. As everyone knows, there is in every ship (except those few which are propelled by paddles) a long steel shaft, called the tail-shaft, which runs from the engine situated somewhere near amidships to the propeller at the stern. Many ships, of course, have several propellers, and then there are several shafts. Now each of these shafts is a thick strong steel rod supported at intervals in bearings. If anyone were told that, in working, that shaft became more or less twisted, he would be tempted to think he was being made fun of. Yet such is literally the case. The thick strong massive bar becomes actually twisted by the turning action of the engine at one end and the resistance of the propeller at the other. And the amount of that twisting is a measure of the work which the engine is doing. The puzzle is how to measure it while the engine is running, for of course the twist comes out of it as soon as the engine stops. A space on the shaft is selected, between two bearings, for the fixing of the apparatus. Near to each bearing there is fitted on to the shaft a metal disc with a small hole in it. On one of the bearings is fixed a lamp and on the other a telescope. When the engine is at rest and there is no twist in the shaft, all these four things--the lamp, the two holes, and the telescope--are in line. Consequently, on looking through the telescope the light is visible. But when the engine is at work and the shaft is more or less twisted one of the holes gets out of line and it becomes impossible to see the light through the telescope. A slight adjustment of the telescope, however, brings all four into line again, which adjustment can be easily made by a screw motion provided for the purpose. And the amount of adjustment that is found necessary forms a measure of the amount of the twisting which the shaft suffers and that again tells the number of horse-power which the engine is putting into its work. But it is also necessary to know how fast the engine is working. There are many devices which will tell this, of which the speedometer on a motor-car is a familiar example. Most of those work on the centrifugal principle, the instrument actually measuring not the speed but the centrifugal force resulting from the speed, which amounts to the same thing. There is one instrument, however, which operates on quite a different principle, because of which it is specially interesting. It consists of a nice-looking wooden box with a glass front. Through the glass one sees a row of little white knobs. If this be placed somewhere near the engine while it is at work immediately one of the knobs commences to move rapidly up and down, so that it looks no longer like a knob but is elongated into a white band. There is no visible connection between the instrument and the engine, yet the number over that particular knob which becomes thus agitated indicates the speed of the engine. Let us in imagination open the case and we shall find that the knobs are attached to the ends of a number of light steel springs set in a row. The springs are all precisely alike except for their length, in which respect no two are alike. Indeed, as you proceed from one side of the instrument to the other each succeeding one is a little longer than the previous one. Now a spring has a certain speed at which it naturally vibrates and other things being equal that speed depends upon its length. You can, of course, force any spring to vibrate at any speed if you care to take the trouble, but each one has its own natural speed at which it will vibrate under very slight provocation. Every engine is, of course, made to run as smoothly as possible. All revolving or reciprocating parts are for this reason carefully balanced and in turbines the whole moving part, since it is round and symmetrical, naturally approaches a condition of perfect balance. Hence every engine ought to run perfectly smoothly. As a matter of fact, however, no engine ever does. There are certain limitations to man's skill and at the high speed of a fast-running engine, such as is to be found on a destroyer, for example, some little irregularity is sure to make itself felt by a slight vibration in the floor. It may be hardly perceptible to the senses, but to a spring whose natural frequency happens to be just that same speed or nearly so, it will be very apparent and in a few seconds that spring will be responding quite vigorously. It is another example of the principle of resonance, which is employed so finely in making wireless telegraph apparatus selective. Every wireless apparatus is made to have a certain natural frequency of its own and it therefore picks up readily those signals which proceed from another station having the same frequency while ignoring those from others. In just the same way a reed or spring in this speed-indicator picks up and responds to impulses derived from the engine only when they are of a frequency corresponding with its own natural frequency. Hence, one spring out of the whole range responds to the vibrations of the engine while the others remain almost if not entirely unaffected. In another form, the springs are actuated electrically. A magnet, or a series of magnets, is arranged so that as the engine turns the magnets pass successively near to a coil of wire, thereby inducing currents in that wire. They form, in fact, a small dynamo or generator, generating one impulse per revolution or two or three or whatever number may be most convenient. Then the current from this is led round the coil of a long electro-magnet placed just under the free ends of all the springs. The magnet therefore gives a series of pulls, at regular intervals, and the rapidity of those pulls will depend upon the speed of the engine, while the frequency of them will be registered by the movement of one or other of the springs. This instrument can also be employed to determine the speed of aeroplane motors and, in fact, any kind of engine, especially those whose speed is very high. CHAPTER XIV ENGINES OF WAR The phrase which I have used for the title of this chapter is often given a very wide meaning which includes all kinds and varieties of devices used in warfare. In this case I am giving it its narrower sense, taking it to indicate the steam-engines and oil-engines which are employed to drive our battleships, cruisers and destroyers, our submarines and our aircraft. They are inventions of the highest importance, which have played a large part in shaping modern warfare. The type of engine almost invariably used on ships of war other than submarines is the steam turbine. Great Britain, for the most part, uses that particular kind associated with the name of the Hon. Sir C. A. Parsons, while the United States rather favour the Curtiss machine. Other nations have adopted either one of these or else something very similar. All turbines are very simple in their principle, far more so that the older type of steam-engine, called, because the essential parts of it move to and fro, the "reciprocating" steam-engine. In these latter machines there are a number of cylinders with closed ends and with very smooth interiors, in each of which slides a disc-like object called a piston. The steam enters a cylinder first at one end and then at the other, thus pushing the piston to and fro. The movement of the piston is communicated to the outside by means of a rod which passes through a hole in the cover at one end of the cylinder, the to and fro motion being converted into a round and round motion by a connecting-rod and crank just as the up and down motion of a cyclist's knees is converted into a round and round motion by the lower leg and the crank. The lower part of a cyclist's leg is, indeed, a very accurate illustration of what the connecting-rod of a steam-engine is. As is evident to the hastiest observer, some arrangement has to be made whereby the steam shall be led first into one end and then into the other end of the cylinder: also that provision shall be made for letting the steam out again when it has done its work. Moreover, such arrangements must be automatic. Hence, every reciprocating engine has special valves for this purpose and such valves need rods and cranks (or something equivalent) to operate them. Further, to get the best results the steam must not simply be passed through one cylinder but through several in succession. Engines where the steam goes through only one cylinder are called "simple," where it goes through two they are "compound," where three "triple-expansion," where four "quadruple-expansion." Generally speaking, each cylinder has its own connecting-rod and crank, also its own set of rods, etc., for working its valves. Hence, a high-class marine reciprocating engine is of necessity a complicated mass of cylinders, rods, cranks and other moving parts continually swinging round or to and fro at considerable speeds, all needing oiling and attention and all liable at times to give trouble. And now compare that with the turbine, which has TWO parts, only one of which moves. That part, moreover, is tightly shut up inside the other one, being thereby protected from any chance of damage from outside and likewise rendered unable to inflict any damage upon those in attendance upon it. At first sight it seems very strange that the turbine should be the newer of the two, for it is simply an improved form of the old time-honoured picturesque windmill which used to top every hill and grind the corn for every village and hamlet. The old windmill had four sails against which the wind blew, driving the whole four round as everyone knows. The new turbine has a great many sails, only we now call them blades, and the steam blows them round. The old windmill had to have another smaller set of sails at the back for the purpose of keeping the main sails always in that position in which they would catch the full force of the breeze. In the turbine we need not do that, for we shut the windmill up in a kind of tunnel and cause the steam to blow in at one end and out at the other. The difference between the various kinds of turbine lies simply in the manner in which the steam is guided in its passage through the machine. After that general description we can take a more detailed view of the Parsons turbine. The casing or fixed part is a huge iron box suitably shaped for standing firmly and rigidly upon the floor of the engine-room. It is made in two halves, the upper of which can be easily lifted off when necessary. Often, indeed, this upper half is hinged to the lower, so that it can be opened like the lid of a box. Inside, the casing is cylindrical, comparatively small at one end but increasing by steps till it is very much larger at the other end. At each end is a bearing or support in which the rotor or moving part is held and in which it can turn freely. The rotor or part which rotates is a strong steel forging shaped somewhat to follow the lines of the inside of the casing. It does not entirely fill the casing but leaves a space all round and all the way along, which space is intended to accommodate the blades. The ends of the rotor are smaller than the body since they are intended to fit into the bearings, and one of the ends is prolonged so as to be available for coupling to the propeller-shaft of the ship. At one end of the casing, the smaller one, is the steam inlet and the steam after emerging from it passes along till it finds its way out at a very large outlet formed at the bigger end. On its way it has to pass thousands of small blades so that the progress of each individual particle of steam is not a straight line but a continual zigzag. There are rings of blades round the rotor, tightly fixed to its surface. There are likewise rings of blades affixed to the inner surface of the casing, the rings upon the casing coming in the spaces between the rings on the rotor. Let us imagine that we can see through the casing of a turbine at work and that looking down upon it from above we can trace the progress of a particle of steam. It rushes in from the inlet and at once makes straight for the outlet at the further end. Suddenly, however, it encounters one of the guide blades (those on the case) and by it is deflected to one side, we will suppose the left. That causes it to rush straight at one of the blades upon the rotor against which it strikes violently, giving that blade a distinct and definite push to the left. Rebounding, it then comes back towards the right but quickly is caught by another guide blade and by it hurled back upon a second rotor blade, giving it a leftward push just as it did to the first. Thus it goes zigzagging from one set of blades to the other until, tired out, so to speak, it finally flows away forceless and feeble through the outlet, having given up all its energy to the blades of the rotor against which it has struck in its course. That, then, is the journey of one single particle. Multiply that by an unknown number of millions and you have a description of what takes place in the interior of a steam turbine. The blades are so proportioned, so arranged and so placed that it is very difficult indeed for a particle of steam to creep past without doing its share of work. Practically every one is made use of and while, of course, the action of a single particle of steam would have but a negligible effect, the vast number engaged cause the rotor to be powerfully blown round. The reason why the casing and rotor are made larger and larger as one proceeds from the inlet towards the exhaust or outlet is that the steam must, if all its energy is to be extracted, expand as it goes and the enlargement provides room for this expansion. One of the great advantages of the turbine is that the steam is always entering at the same end. In the cylinder of a reciprocating engine the steam enters alternately. It comes in hot but as it does its work and finally goes out it becomes very much cooler: the next lot of steam which enters, therefore, is chilled by the cool walls of the cylinder which have just been cooled by the departure of the previous lot of steam: so heat is wasted. Wasted heat means fuel lost, and as any given ship can only carry a limited quantity of fuel, wasted heat means less range and more frequent returns to the base to coal or to "oil." Also let me remark again upon the simplicity of the turbine as opposed to the other sort. The latter consists of a mass of moving and swaying rods and cranks, to work among which, as the engineers have to do, is a terrifying and nerve-racking experience. The turbine, on the other hand, has its only working part enclosed. It is difficult to tell, by looking at it, whether a turbine is at work or not, so silent and still is it, so self-contained. The reciprocating engine-room is noisy and full of turmoil: the turbine room is weirdly still by comparison. On the whole, too, it makes better use of the steam which it uses, but it has one decided drawback. It will not reverse, which the other type of engine does readily. This means that two turbines have to be coupled together, one with the blades so set that the steam drives it round correctly to produce motion ahead and the other set the opposite way so that it drives the vessel astern. The steam can be sent through either turbine at will and so motion can be obtained in either direction. Whichever turbine is in use the other revolves idly. Unfortunately it is impossible to make a turbine to go slowly and yet be efficient. Consequently, slow steamers cannot use turbines, but for warships, which are nearly all fast boats, it has almost displaced the older type of engine. The Curtiss turbine is different from the Parsons in that the steam encounters periodically, in its passage through, a partition perforated with funnel-shaped holes. Between the partitions it passes blades upon which it acts just as already described. The chief effect of this is to permit the machine being made of a rather more convenient shape and size. Other varieties of turbine are more or less combinations of the two ideas underlying these two. When we look at a locomotive in motion we always see steam coming out of the funnel, but we never see that in the case of a steamer. That is because all the energy of the steam is taken and used in the latter case, while in the former much valuable energy goes off up the funnel, making a puffing noise instead of doing useful work. On the steamship the steam is led not to the open air but to a vessel called a condenser the walls of which are kept cool by a continual circulation of cold water. The steam on entering the condenser at once collapses into water, leaving a vacuum. A pump called the "air-pump" removes the water (which was once steam) from the condenser and also any air which might get in, with the result that the engine is always discharging its steam into a vacuum. Thus to the pressure of the steam is added the suction of the vacuum. In turbine ships the cooling water for the condensers is circulated by powerful centrifugal pumps driven by subsidiary engines. The steam is obtained from boilers of that special variety known as "water-tube." The boilers with which most people are familiar are either Lancashire or Cornish, both sorts being large steel cylinders with two steel flues in the former and one in the latter running from back to front. The fire is made in the front part of the flue and the hot gases from it pass to the back and then along the sides and underneath through flues formed in the brickwork in which the boiler is set. Locomotive boilers, however, have no flues, but the hot gases from the fire in the fire-box pass through tubes which run from end to end through the cylindrical shell, each tube starting from the fire-box behind and terminating in the smoke-box in front. Thus we have tubes with fire inside and water outside: hence such boilers are called "fire-tube" boilers. On many ships of the merchant type cylindrical boilers are used which combine the features, to some extent, of the Cornish and the fire-tube, since there is a flue running from front to back in which the fire is made and the hot gases return from back to front through a number of tubes which occupy the space above the fire. Arrived at the front the gases pass upwards to the chimney. Water-tube boilers are different from all of these, since in them the water is inside the tubes while the fires play around the outside. This enables steam to be got up very quickly, a matter of much importance for a warship which may be called upon to undertake some operation at a moment's notice. The boilers are fed with water from the condensers, so that the same water is used over and over again. When coal is burnt it is put on the fires by hand, for although mechanical stoking is a great success on land, there are special difficulties which prevent its use at sea. It is becoming more and more the fashion now to burn oil instead of coal in several types of ships and in those cases the oil is blown in the form of spray into the furnace. This has many advantages, some of which are exemplified on a small scale by the difference between using a coal fire and a gas stove. Like the latter, the oil spray can be quickly lit when needed and as quickly extinguished. It can be regulated and adjusted with equal facility. Oil can be taken on board too through a pipe, silently and quickly and without the terrible dirt and the exhausting labour involved in coaling a big ship. Oil, too, can be taken on board at sea, from a tank steamer, almost as easily as it can be taken in ashore, whereas the difficulty of coaling at sea despite many ingenious efforts has never been solved quite satisfactorily. Finally, oil can be stowed anywhere, for the stokers do not need to dig it out with a shovel. Therefore it can be carried in those spaces between the inner and outer bottoms which have to be there in order to give strength to the ship's hull but which would be quite useless for carrying coal. The advantages of oil fuel, therefore, are many and no doubt it will be used more and more as time goes on. For Great Britain, oil fuel has the disadvantage that it has to be imported whereas the finest steam coal in the world is found in abundance in South Wales, but the difficulty may eventually be overcome by distilling from native coal an oil which will serve as well as that which is now imported. So much for the turbine, the engine of the big ships: now for the Diesel oil-engine which drives the submarines. It belongs to that family of engines called "internal-combustion" since in them the fuel is burnt actually inside the cylinder and not under a separate contrivance such as a boiler. There have been oil-engines, so called, for many years, but they were really gas-engines since the oil was first heated till it turned into vapour and then that vapour was used as a gas. The Diesel engine, however, actually burns oil in its liquid state. To understand how it works let me ask you to conjure up this little picture before your mind's eye. A hollow iron cylinder is fixed in a vertical position: its upper end is closed but its lower end is open: inside it is a piston, free to slide up and down: by means of a connecting-rod hinged to it and passing downwards through the open lower end the piston is connected to a crank and flywheel. At the upper end of the cylinder are certain openings which can be covered and uncovered in succession by the action of suitable valves. Now let us assume that that engine is at work, the piston going rapidly up and down in the cylinder. As it goes down it draws in a quantity of air through a valve which opens to admit the air at just the right moment. The moment the piston reverses its movement and starts to go up again that valve closes and the air is entrapped. The piston continues to rise, however, with the result that the air becomes compressed in the upper part of the cylinder. Now it is necessary to remind you at this point that compressing air or indeed any gas, raises its temperature. This air, therefore, which was drawn in at the temperature of the outer atmosphere, by the time the piston has reached the top of its stroke has attained a temperature well above the ignition point of the oil fuel. The piston, having arrived at the top of its stroke, the upper part of the cylinder is filled with hot compressed air: the next moment the piston commences its descent, but at precisely that same moment a valve opens and there is projected into the cylinder a spray of oil. Instantly it bursts into flame, heating the air still more, so that as the piston descends the air, expanding with the heat, pushes strongly and steadily upon it. The amount of that push can be varied by varying the duration of the jet. The longer the jet is injected the more heat is generated and the more sustained is the push. On the other hand, if the jet is cut off very quickly the push is only a gentle one. The power of the engine can thus be adjusted to suit varying circumstances by a slight variation in the valve which controls the jet. The piston having thus been driven down to the limit of its stroke, it commences another upward movement, at which moment another valve opens and lets out the hot waste gases which have resulted from the burning of the oil. Thus the cylinder is cleaned out ready for a fresh supply of pure air to be drawn in on the next ensuing downstroke. The engine thus works upon a series or cycle of operations which are repeated automatically over and over again. First comes a downstroke, drawing in air: then an upstroke, compressing it: then a second downstroke, during which the fuel burns and the power is generated: and, finally, a second upstroke during which the waste products of the burning are ejected. Power, it will be noticed, is only developed in one out of the four strokes: the other movements having, in single cylinder engines, to be performed by the momentum of the flywheel. In most cases, however, the engine has several cylinders in which the cycles are arranged to follow in succession. Thus, if there are four cylinders, there is always power being developed by one of them. The valves are operated automatically by the engine itself just as is the case with steam-engines. The engine also works a small pump which provides the very highly compressed air necessary to blow the oil jet into the cylinder. Arrangements are often provided whereby the engine when working stores up a reserve of compressed air which can be used to start it. From the very nature of its working such an engine cannot develop power until it has accomplished at least four strokes or two revolutions, so that it cannot possibly start itself. If, however, compressed air be admitted to the cylinders to give it a vigorous push or two and so get it going, it can then take up its own work and go on indefinitely. In some cases this is not necessary and that of an engine in a submarine is one of them. In that instance, the electric motor, which drives the boat when submerged, can be made to give the engine a start. By altering the rotation in which the valves act the direction can be reversed. A very simple mechanism can be made to effect this change, so that reversing is quite easy. Aircraft are mostly, if not entirely, driven by petrol engines, some of which are very little different from those of a motor-car or motor-cycle. These motor-car engines are so well known that little need be said about them. It may be well to explain, however, that they, like the Diesel engines, work on a cycle of four strokes, as follows:-- First stroke (down) draws in a mixture of air and gas. Second stroke (up) compresses the mixture. Just at the top of this stroke an electric spark fires the mixture, causing an explosion which drives the piston downwards, thus making the Third stroke (down), during which the power is developed. Fourth stroke (up) expels the waste products of the explosion. Although all of them work on this same cycle, in which they resemble the engines of the motor-car, there are several much-used types of aero-engine in which the mechanical arrangement of the parts is quite different. Of these the best known is the famous Gnome engine which has a considerable number of cylinders arranged around a centre like the spokes of a wheel. The centre is in fact a case which covers the crank, and the cylinders are placed in relation to it just as the spokes are placed around the hub of a wheel. There is only one crank and all the connecting-rods drive on to it. Owing to their position around it they thus act in succession, giving a nice regular turning effort. Further, these engines differ from all others in that the crank is a fixture while the rest of the engine goes round, exactly the opposite of what we are accustomed to. The engine, in fact, constitutes its own flywheel. Rushing thus through the air, the cylinders tend to keep themselves cool, doing away with the need for cooling water and radiators. Consequently engines of this type are the very lightest known in proportion to their horse-power. A fifty horse-power engine can be easily carried by one man. It would be possible to go on much longer with this most interesting subject of engines, but having treated the three types which are most used in warfare, it is now time to pass on to something else. CHAPTER XV DESTROYERS Except for the submarine the most prominent craft during the war has undoubtedly been the destroyer. All warships are in one sense destroyers, since it is their prime duty to destroy other ships, so why should one particular kind of boat be given this name specially? Like many other of the terms which we use it is an abbreviation, a mere remnant of a fully descriptive title. "Torpedo Boat Destroyer" is what these ships are called in the Navy List. Even that full title, however, only tells us what their original purpose was: it leaves us very much in the dark as to the many various functions which they perform. The invention of the torpedo called for the construction of small boats whereby the new weapon could be used to best advantage, and so we got our torpedo boats. They in turn called forth another boat whose duty it was to run down and destroy them, and in that way we get our destroyers. From that bit of naval history we can almost see for ourselves what the characteristics of the destroyers must be. They have to be bigger than the torpedo boats, but as the latter were quite small the destroyers, though larger, are still comparatively small craft, latterly of about one thousand tons. Then they have to be very fast, in order to be able to chase the others and, finally, they need one or two guns, comparatively small so as not to overburden the ship and yet large enough to dispose of anything of their own size or smaller. Unquestionably, their greatest feature is their speed. They are the fastest ships afloat, rivalling even a fairly fast train. Some of them can exceed forty miles an hour. They are very active and nimble, too, being able to turn in a comparatively small circle. For warships, too, they are cheap, so that a commander can afford to risk losing a destroyer when he would fear to risk another vessel. For all purposes except the actual hard-hitting they are the most useful weapon which the commander of the fleet possesses. When the main fleet puts to sea a whole cloud of these smaller craft hover round looking for submarines or for the surface torpedo boats which might try to attack the large ships under cover of darkness, while keeping a sharp look-out, too, for mines or any other kind of floating danger, and thus they screen the more valuable ships. Likewise do they convoy merchant ships sometimes, especially through waters believed to be infested with submarines. They also sally forth on little expeditions of their own, knowing that they can fight any craft equally speedy and show a clean pair of heels to any heavier ships, while by adroit use of their own torpedoes they may even "bag" a cruiser or two. They are pre-eminently the enemy of the submarine, for the under-water boat is necessarily less active even when it is on the surface than they are, so that a submarine caught by a destroyer stands a very good chance of being rammed by it, which means that the destroyer deliberately rushes at it, using its own bow as a ram wherewith to knock a hole in it. Or if that be not practicable the destroyer, while dodging the torpedo of the submarine, may plant a single well-aimed shot into its opponent and the fight is over. A cleverly-handled destroyer appears to have little difficulty in avoiding the comparatively slow torpedo, but no ship ever built could avoid a properly aimed shell, two facts which are clearly indicated by the very few cases in which, during the war, a destroyer has succumbed to a submarine. The gun of the latter, if it has one, is no match for the guns of the destroyer. Naval strategy and tactics, when one thinks about them carefully, reveal a very close resemblance to those of the football field. The destroyers are like the forwards, quick, light and nimble, valuable chiefly because of their ability to run swiftly and to dodge cleverly, while the heavy, stolid backs represent the battleships in their ability to withstand the heavy shocks of the game. Any imaginative boy will be able to carry this simile farther still and a comparison of the description of the battle of Jutland with his own knowledge of the game will reveal a surprising parallelism. Thus the reader will to a very large extent be able to see for himself the manifold uses to which these wonderful little ships lend themselves, and he will see that above everything else it is their speed which counts, which fact gives us the key to their peculiar construction. To commence with, they are made as light as possible. The material used is different from that of ordinary ships, being "high-tensile" steel, a steel into which a little more carbon than usual is introduced, resulting in about 50 per cent higher tensile strength but also involving, alas! rather more brittleness. When made of this material the whole framework of the vessel can be made of lighter beams and the covering can be of thinner plates than would be the case if the mild steel ordinarily employed for shipbuilding were used. The high-tensile steel is lighter for a given strength and therefore a ship built of it is lighter than it would otherwise have to be. Besides the use of this particular material every resource in the way of ingenuity and skill on the part of the designers is bent towards saving weight. No unnecessary part is ever put in, but, on the other hand, necessaries are skinned down to the utmost limit consistent with safety in order to produce a light ship. How difficult this problem is is hardly realized until one thinks of the conditions which prevail when a ship floats in the water. The upward support of the water is exerted in a fairly regular way all along the ship while the weights inside which are pressing downward are concentrated in lumps. The engines, for example, represent a very heavy weight concentrated in one fairly confined spot. Thus the vessel has to have sufficient stiffness to resist the action of these opposing forces which are thus tending to break her in two. That, moreover, occurs in the stillest water; when the sea is rough still worse stresses are brought to bear upon the comparatively fragile hull, for a wave may lift each end, leaving the middle more or less unsupported, or one may lift the middle while the ends to a certain extent are left overhanging. All this, too, is in addition to the knocks and buffets caused by huge volumes of water being flung against the ship by cross seas in the height of a tempest. In the case of ordinary ships where speed is not of such great importance, the problem is simplified by the use of what is termed a high "factor of safety," which means that the designers calculate these forces as nearly as they can and then make the structure _amply_ strong enough. In other words, care is taken to keep well on the safe side. In a destroyer, however, there is no room for such a margin of safety. Risks have to be taken, and it is only the high degree of skill and experience possessed by our ship designers which enable these light ships to be made with, as experience shows, a very considerable degree of safety. They have to be continually choosing between strength on the one hand and lightness on the other and the way in which they combine the two is marvellous. The weight thus saved is used for carrying engines, boilers and fuel. Relatively to its size, the destroyer is about as strong as an egg-shell, but its engines are of extraordinary power. The destroyers are generally organized and operate in little groups or flotillas of perhaps twenty or so with a small cruiser or a flotilla leader as a flagship, on which is the officer in command of them all. There is also usually a depot ship for each flotilla. The flotilla leaders are what one might call super-destroyers, about double the size of the ordinary large destroyer, which is to say, about two thousand tons, and capable of very high speed. The depot ships form a kind of floating headquarters for their respective flotillas. They are usually old cruisers which are specially fitted up for the purpose, and although they are of comparatively slow speed they can by wireless telegraphy keep in touch with the destroyers, which can return to them when occasion permits or demands. They carry workshops in which small repairs can be carried out, spare ammunition and stores of all kinds and spare men for the crews. In fact they can look after the smaller craft much as a mother looks after her children, and for that reason they are sometimes called "mother ships." As has been said, the destroyer was originally intended to destroy torpedo boats, but small torpedo boats have almost gone out of existence or rather the class have so grown in size as to have become merged in the destroyers, which, it must be remembered, are well armed with torpedoes which they have at times used with great effect. It is not surprising, therefore, to find that a still newer class of ship has arisen which has been described by one authority as "destroyer-destroyers." Officially known as "light armoured cruisers," not very much is known of their details. They are, however, about 3500 tons, with 10 guns, large enough that is to dispose of any destroyer which they might encounter. Thus, to review the whole class of ships of which we have been speaking, we may say that there are the destroyers, all the more recent of which are about 1000 tons but diminishing as we go backward in time to about 350 or 400; the flotilla leaders about twice the size of the largest destroyers; and the destroyer-destroyers nearly twice as large as the flotilla leaders: all are characterised by high speed and by guns just large enough for the work for which they are intended. All are armed, too, with the deadly torpedo for attack upon larger ships than themselves. They are essentially night-birds, much of their time being spent stealing about with all lights out, in pitch darkness, seeking for information or for a chance to put a torpedo into some chance victim. These night operations are very hazardous, but so skilful are the young officers who have charge of these boats that seldom do we hear of mishaps. But although, as has been said, the torpedo boat has almost vanished, its under-water comrade has recently assumed a place in the first rank of importance, and perhaps to us the most valuable work of all done by the destroyer is that of hunting down and sinking these modern pirates. CHAPTER XVI BATTLESHIPS Perhaps the greatest war invention of modern times was the British battleship _Dreadnought_. Of course, there have been battleships for centuries. In history we read of fleets consisting of so many "ships of the line" or in other words "line-of-battle" ships, meaning ships which were considered capable of taking their place in "line of battle," as distinguished from "frigates" which correspond to the modern "cruiser." The "line-of-battle" ships were stout and strong with plenty of guns. They went into the thick of the fight, since they were capable of giving and receiving hard blows, while the lighter frigates hovered around seeking an opening to use their higher speed to cut off stragglers or to prey upon merchant ships. Although so different in form and material that a sailor of the old days, could he revisit the earth, would not recognize them, the battleships of to-day are the real descendants of the "line-of-battle" ships of those times. They are stout and strong, with the heaviest guns, capable of giving and taking the hardest knocks, and it is they who form the backbone of the fleet. As we saw in the accounts of the battle of Jutland, the German Fleet tackled our cruisers and lighter vessels but discreetly withdrew when the battleships came up. Looked at in another way, we may say that a battleship is a floating fortress. Its speed is not great, when compared with other ships, but it is constructed to carry enormous guns. It is also armoured with steel plates of great thickness and of special hardness placed upon the outside of the hull so as to cover its vital parts and protect them from the shells of the enemy. Its chief function, we may say, is to carry its guns: to enable it to do this with safety, it is armoured: and to enable it to get to grips with its enemies it has engines and boilers. Those are the three features of greatest importance in a battleship, its guns, its armour and its engines. All else is of minor importance. It is strange to think how short a time the iron or steel ship has been with us. In the American Civil War, for instance, only about sixty years ago, the battleships were made of wood. It was during that war that Ericcson thought of the idea of putting iron plates to protect the sides of a ship from the hostile shots, and from that improvised armouring of a wooden ship has arisen the iron-clad or, more correctly, steel-clad monsters of to-day. It is just about fifty years ago since the last iron-clad wooden battleship was launched for the British Navy. Her name was _Repulse_, and she took the water in 1868. With a tonnage of 6190 and a horse-power of 3350, she had a speed of 12 knots. Her armouring of iron was in parts 4½ inches and in other parts 6 inches thick, while she carried 20 guns of sizes which to-day would seem mere toys. If all her guns were discharged together she would throw a total weight of 2160 lbs. of projectiles. Now, for comparison, let us take a modern battleship, the _Orion_, for example. The tonnage is 22,680, the horse-power 27,000. She is more than twice the length of the older ship and is armoured with steel 12 inches thick. Her 10 large guns, each 13½ inches in diameter, if fired together (as I once heard them, like thunder, though 10 miles away) throw a weight of 12,500 lbs. From this we see the wonderful growth in size, speed and in hitting power during the comparatively short period of fifty years. But there is a more striking comparison still. The _Repulse's_ guns threw 2160 lbs. and the _Orion's_ throw 12,500. But that takes no account of the energy with which the weight is thrown. A tennis ball hit hard, might really contain more energy and do more damage to anything it hit than a cricket ball thrown gently, which illustrates the fact that in comparing the power of guns we need to consider something more than the mere weight of the projectiles. To arrive at a real comparison we take the weight of the projectiles in tons and multiply it by the speed at which they leave the guns in _feet per second_. And we call the answer so many "foot-tons." Now the energy of the _Repulse_ thus reckoned comes to just under 30,000; that of the _Orion_ to just under 690,000. The _Orion_ can hit twenty-three times as hard as could its forerunner of only fifty years ago. Since the _Repulse_ all our battleships have been built of wrought iron or mild steel. Speaking generally, there was a steady development in size and horse-power and in speed until 1906, in which year there was launched the world-famous H.M.S. _Dreadnought_. Previously no battleship had been faster than 19 knots: she was designed for 21 knots. Her tonnage was 17,900, exceeding by more than 1000 tons anything that had gone before. But the great change was in the guns. Pre-Dreadnoughts had, or one ought to say "have" for there are still many in existence, four of the biggest guns, a number of medium-sized guns and a still larger number of smallish guns intended for the purpose of keeping off torpedo craft and such small fry. At one stroke Lord Fisher, who was then the First Sea Lord of the British Admiralty, changed all this. He swept all the medium-sized guns away and gave this new ship TEN of the largest guns then in use. The advent of this ship startled the whole naval world, for it was seen at once by all those able to judge that there was a vessel which might be expected to sink with ease any other ship afloat. The onslaught from those ten guns would be more than any other ship could stand. So other powers set to work to copy more or less exactly, while Great Britain quickly built more like her. So important was this new invention that very soon the strength of the naval powers began to be reckoned entirely on the number of Dreadnoughts they possessed, the older ships being left out of account as though they did not make any difference one way or the other. But Great Britain was not content with the _Dreadnought_, for each succeeding ship or set of ships was improved until, only four years later, there was launched the _Orion_ already referred to, nearly 5000 tons bigger, with 2500 more horse-power, and with 13½-inch guns instead of 12-inch. The _Orion_ and her sisters are often spoken of as super-Dreadnoughts. The Dreadnoughts as a class are often referred to as "all-big-gun" ships, since that is the feature which most distinguishes them from those which went before. These large guns are mounted in turrets as they are called. We might describe these as turn-tables with a cover over something like a small gas-holder. There are usually two guns in each turret, although there are a few ships whose turrets have three in each. The turrets seem to be standing on the deck of the ship and it is by turning them round that the guns are trained or pointed at their target. The original _Dreadnought_ had one turret in front and two behind, all on the centre-line of the ship, and two more, one each side, amidships. In late vessels all five turrets are on the centre-line. Thus the _Dreadnought_ can fire six guns ahead, eight astern and eight to either side, while the newer ships can fire four ahead, four astern and all ten on either side. There are other battleships with even more guns than these, such as the U.S.A. ship _Wyoming_, with twelve 12-inch guns, but the British Navy seems to prefer to stick to the original number of ten. The reason for this is that every such ship is a compromise between three alternatives. The three great features have already been pointed out, namely, the guns, the armour and the propelling machinery. Either of these can be increased at the cost of one or both of the others, but all cannot be increased without sinking the ship, unless indeed, the ship be made larger and then other considerations crop up. And that brings us to another class of ship often ranked among the battleships. These remarkable vessels are also termed cruisers and the fashion seems to have established itself of combining the two names and calling them battle-cruisers. They gave a fine account of themselves during the war. The first three of these, of which the _Invincible_ is usually taken as the type, made its appearance the year after the _Dreadnought_, and like the latter were the offspring of the fertile brain of Lord Fisher. The _Invincible_ was about the same size as the _Dreadnought_, but had nearly twice the horse-power (41,000), which enabled it to attain an actual speed of nearly six knots more, namely, 28·6. For guns it had eight of the same large weapons, and it was armoured with 7-inch steel armour-plates instead of 11-inch. Thus we see illustrated what has just been said, less guns and thinner armour, to allow for more engine power and higher speed. Or, to put it the other way, we observe how higher speed was attained at the expense of the guns and the armour. But just as the _Dreadnought_ was followed by other still greater improvements in the same direction we get, in 1910, the famous ship _Lion_, a vessel not unknown to the Germans, a "super-Invincible." This ship has a tonnage of over 26,000 and 70,000 horse-power. It was designed to do 28 knots. We saw the use of these ships in the Jutland battle, when, using their high speed, they attacked the German battleships and kept them engaged while the slower battleships came up. Though they suffered severe losses, which probably the more heavily armoured battleships would have escaped, they held the Germans so that it was only the failing light which saved them from utter destruction. Another example was the way in which they hunted down Von Spee and his squadron off the Falklands, when they caught the Germans because of their higher speed and then sank them by means of their heavier guns with practically no loss to themselves. We saw them again in the Heligoland battle, coming up to the assistance of the lighter vessels just in the nick of time and scattering the enemy like so much chaff. A fact little known to most people and productive of much surprise is that these battleships and cruisers are not such very large vessels, when compared with those of the merchant service. The _Lion_ is 660 feet long and 86 feet wide, the _Aquitania_ is 930 feet long and 98 feet wide, and the _Olympic_ is 882 feet long and 92 feet wide. The mighty _Orion_ makes a poorer showing still in point of size, since she is only 545 feet long and 88 feet wide--little over half the length of the _Aquitania_. It is difficult to compare the tonnage of a warship with that of a merchant ship, since they are not measured in the same way. The former is the "displacement" or actual weight of water displaced: in other words the precise weight of the vessel in tons of 2240 lbs. The tonnage of a merchant ship, however, has nothing to do with weight but is based upon capacity and is arrived at by a purely arbitrary rule, thus: all the enclosed space in the ship is measured in cubic feet and the total is divided by one hundred. That gives the gross tonnage. To arrive at the net tonnage the space occupied by the engines and all other space necessary for the working of the ship is excluded. Originally the tonnage of a merchant ship was the number of "tuns" of wine which it could carry. Thus, you see, comparing the tonnage of a warship with that of a merchant ship is somewhat like comparing a pound with a bushel. Net registered tonnage is generally considerably less than the displacement tonnage of the same ship, so that a warship is usually less than a merchant ship of the same nominal number of tons. And now let us turn to some of the internal arrangements of these wonderful ships, more particularly to the means for working the guns. Each turret is placed over the top of what we might call a well, running right down deep into the inside of the ship. At the bottom of this well is the magazine, where the shells are stored and also the cartridges containing the explosive which drives the shell from the gun. Underneath the turret, forming a kind of basement to it, is a chamber called the working chamber, and up to it the shells and cartridges pass by means of lifts. For safety's sake only a small quantity of explosives is kept here at any one time, but it is from here that the guns overhead are fed. Shells and cartridges alike pass up as required by means of hoists right to the guns. Indeed, the hoists are ingeniously contrived so that in whatever position a gun may be the hoist stops exactly opposite the breech, or opening at the back of the gun through which it is loaded. Then a mechanical rammer drives the shell or cartridge into its place in the gun. The hoists are worked by hydraulic power or electricity, and in most cases by both, arrangements being made so that either can be used at will, thus serving as alternatives in case either should get out of order. The turrets themselves are also turned by power. Indeed, so heavy are the weights involved that only by the use of carefully designed machinery is the operation of such great weapons made possible. A single shell of the 13·5-inch gun weighs 1250 lbs. Around each turret there is placed a wall of thick armour plate as high as it is possible to make it without interfering with the movement of the guns. This is called the barbette armour and the space enclosed by it, in which the turret stands, is called a barbette, an old fortification term meaning a place behind a rampart. The turret is covered over, as has already been remarked, by a steel hood, so that altogether the guns and their crews are about as well protected as it is possible to be. That all this means a considerable burden upon the ship is shown by the fact that a pair of 12-inch guns with their turret and barbette armour will weigh something like 600 tons, and if there be five of them that means 3000 tons in all. Down below in the magazine there are lifting appliances whereby the shells can be readily picked up and run to the hoist. Moreover, there is elaborate machinery for keeping them cool. Our allies the French had, years ago, several bad accidents through the explosives going off spontaneously in their ships, and this is quite likely to happen if the magazines become too hot. So refrigerating apparatus is installed similar to that employed in meat-carrying ships, which provides a constant flow of cool air into the magazines. The ships also are subdivided to the greatest possible extent consistent with efficient working, so that in the event of a collision or a torpedo making a hole below water the ship may not sink. As far as possible the divisions or bulkheads are made to run right from top to bottom without any openings, but that obviously is a very inconvenient arrangement, so in many places there have to be doorways through them, leading from one part of the ship to another. In such cases these are closed by water-tight doors, which can be shut before the ship goes into action or into any dangerous region. The engines of these vessels are now always turbines. This type of engine has many advantages over the older type, in which certain parts move to and fro, that motion being changed by cranks into a round and round action. For one thing, they are lighter for a given power, so that more power can be put into a ship without adding to the weight. That means higher speed. Then there is less to get out of order. Anyone who has been into a ship's engine room where to and fro or reciprocating engines are at work will realize this, for there is a maze of rods and cranks all moving together, and many parts which need to be oiled while in motion and which would get hot and tight if they were not carefully looked after. All this in an enclosed space with possibly an uncomfortable motion of the whole ship used to make the engineer's life at sea a very hazardous and unhappy one. But the turbine is entirely enclosed. There is nothing to be seen moving at all. Indeed, there is only one moving part, and that is coupled directly to the propeller-shaft, so that nothing could possibly be simpler. CHAPTER XVII HOW A WARSHIP IS BUILT When it is decided to build a certain ship, the first thing to be done is to draw it on paper. The Admiralties of the world, and also the great shipbuilders, have each their own chief designer installed in a big, light, quiet office fitted with large strong, flat tables at which work a number of draughtsmen. The naval authorities tell the "chief" in general terms what they want the ship to be capable of, and he determines its size and form. Then the draughtsmen work out his ideas on paper, themselves deciding upon the minor details, until they have produced exact representations of the ship which is to be. Some draughtsmen deal with the actual hull of the ship, while others design the various fittings and minor details, all working, of course, under the constant supervision of the chief. In this connection one may perhaps allude to a matter which the general public often seems to misunderstand--the work and functions of a draughtsman. I have heard people say of a boy that he is good at drawing so they think of making a draughtsman of him. Now the point is that the actual drawing is perhaps the least important part of a draughtsman's work. He has to know _what to draw_. He is given just a rough idea of something and from that he has to produce a perfect design, bearing in mind that the thing to be made must well fulfil its purpose, must be easy and cheap to construct, must be strong enough yet not too heavy, must be made of the most suitable material and so on. He has to possess a good deal of the knowledge of the skilled workman, he has to be something of a scientist and a good mathematician in addition to his ability to make neat and accurate drawings. So, you see, these men whose minds conceive the details of our great ships are men of long training and experience, with far greater knowledge and skill than we sometimes give them credit for. Anyway, there they stand, each at his own table, bending over his own drawing-board, each doing his own particular share towards producing the perfect ship. But when all is said and done, there are limitations to the cleverness of the cleverest among us, so the next step, after the draughtsmen have done their best, is to test what they have done by experiment. Years ago a certain Mr. William Froude interested himself in the question of the best shapes for ships, and he found that by making an exact model of a ship and then drawing that model through water it was possible to foretell just how that ship would behave. He built himself a tank for the purpose of these experiments at Torquay, where he lived, and by its aid he added a very important chapter to the science of shipbuilding. Nowadays the Admiralty have a large and well-fitted tank at Portsmouth, the United States Navy have one at Washington, private shipbuilders have the use of a national tank at Bushey, near London, while several of the large firms have tanks of their own. The national tank at Bushey, by the way, was given to the nation by Mr. Yarrow, a famous shipbuilder, in memory of Mr. Froude, it being called the "William Froude Tank" in recognition of the great work done by him. Now these tanks may be described as rather elongated swimming-baths. Such a structure is generally a little narrower than the average bath, but it is longer and much deeper. At one end there are miniature docks in which the models float when not in use, while at the other there is a sloping beach upon which the waves caused by the models expend their energy harmlessly. Along each side there runs a rail upon which are supported the ends of a travelling bridge. Driven by electric motors, this bridge can run to and fro from end to end of the tank, and its purpose is to drag the models through the water. Carried upon the bridge is a platform which bears a number of instruments, chief among which is a self-recording dynamometer. Now a dynamometer is an instrument for measuring the force of a "pull," and when we call it self-recording we mean that it automatically takes a record of a series of pulls or of a varying pull. In this case there projects below the bridge a lever, to the end of which the model under test is attached. As the bridge rushes along it pulls the model through the water by means of this lever, and the force which is expended in doing so is recorded in the form of a wavy line upon a sheet of ruled paper. If the model slips through the water very easily there is little pull upon the lever and the line drawn by the pen of the instrument remains low down upon the chart. If, however, much power is needed and the pull is a strong one the pen moves and the line rises towards the top of the paper. Any change, whether increase or decrease, is thus shown by the rise or fall of the ink line. One model can be thus tried at various speeds and its behaviour noted under different conditions. Other matters can be investigated too, such as whether or not the bow rises in the water or falls when the boat is in motion, also how much such rise or fall may amount to. The suitability of a certain shape of vessel, moreover, can to a certain extent be seen by observing the commotion which it makes in the water. Everyone has noticed the way in which a ship throws up a wave at its bows, and that bow-wave, as it is termed, represents so much energy being wasted. The power of the engines is absorbed to a certain extent in making that wave. It is impossible to make anything which when forced through the water will not make some wave, but certain forms cause less of it than others, and the designer of a ship seeks to find that form which will make the smallest bow-wave. In like manner the eddies which a ship leaves in its wake are the result of wasted energy, and the ship must be so shaped that they too will be reduced to a minimum. Shipbuilders find that there are three things which retard a ship's movement: skin friction, or friction between the water and the sides of the ship; wave making at the bow and eddy making at the stern. The first depends largely upon the smoothness of the ship's surface, the second and third depend upon its shape. If a model behaves badly in the tank the fault may be either too much wave making or too much eddy making, and which of these it is the dynamometer does not of course tell. In many cases the experienced eye of the tank officials furnishes the clue to the trouble, but in some cases a cinematograph is used to make a complete series of photographs of the model and the water around it as it rushes from end to end. These can then be studied in conjunction with the chart and the cause of the fault discovered. The real aim, it is obvious, of all these tank experiments is to find out the lowest horse-power necessary to drive the ship, or the best form of ship to get the highest speed out of a given horse-power. The cost of keeping up these large tanks and making the models and conducting the experiments is very great, for not only are the premises very large (I know one in which the water alone cost nearly a hundred pounds) but a highly skilled staff is necessary. The saving effected in the cost of ships and the superior efficiency of the ships makes it well worth while however. There is still one other point about this matter which will possibly be puzzling the observant reader. What are the models made of and how are they made? They are made of paraffin wax, and a very important department of the experimental tank is that where the models are formed. First of all a rough mould is fashioned by hand in modelling clay and into this is poured melted wax, the result being a very rough model of the ship. This is then placed in the model-making machine. Those of my readers who are familiar with an engineer's shop will know what a planing machine is like, and from that they can form an idea of the general structure of this remarkable tool. There is, first of all, a travelling table which, as the machine works, travels to and fro. Spanning this table is a beam which carries on its under side two revolving cutters, so that as the table passes beneath them the cutters can operate upon anything placed upon the table. Another part of the machine is a board upon which is placed the drawing showing the external shape of the proposed ship, and working over this board is a pointer connected by a system of rods and levers to the cutters just mentioned. The rough block of wax, then, having been placed upon the table and the to and fro motion set going, the attendant guides the pointer along the lines of the drawing, and as he does so the cutters so move as to carve away the soft wax into the precise shape of the model. A little smoothing by hand is all that is necessary to complete the conversion of the rough piece of wax into a perfect model. It is then placed in the water and ballasted with little bags of shot until it floats at just the correct depth, and finally a light wooden frame is fitted to it for the purpose of making the connection to the lever by which it is pulled along. Thus, after much thought and experiment, the designs for a new ship are completed. Tracings are then made of them on semi-transparent paper or cloth, which tracings are then used as "negatives," from which a number of photographic prints are made, just as the amateur photographer makes prints from his negatives. At least that is how they used to be done, in a huge printing frame, but nowadays a machine is more often employed which passes the tracing or negative with a piece of photographic paper behind it slowly past an electric light, thus doing the work more quickly and more conveniently, for the drawings of ships are often very long and would either require an enormous frame or else would have to be made in pieces and joined together. The prints are finally passed out to the works to be translated in terms of iron, steel and wood. Perhaps the most important part of a shipyard is the mould loft, a large apartment on the floor of which the ship is drawn out full size. Then from these full-size drawings moulds or templets are made of wood or soft metal, showing the exact size and shape of the various parts. The moulds or templets go thence to the workshops, where the bars and plates of steel are cut to the right shape and perforated with holes, and some of the pieces are there joined together with rivets. [Illustration: THE TRIPOD MAST. Here we see one leg of the tripod mast of a warship. These masts have greater stability and freedom from vibration than others. They are used for observation and range-finding, and have a fighting-top on which guns of small calibre are mounted. Here is shown a sailor carrying a wounded comrade.] From the workshops the various pieces or parts go to the yard where the slip is on which the vessel is being built. This slip is by the water's edge, conveniently placed with a view to the fact that later on the great structure, weighing possibly thousands of tons, has got to slide down into the water. Where the keel of the ship is to go a row of timber blocks is placed a few feet apart, and upon these blocks the plates of steel which form the lowest part of the ship are laid. Upon them are laid other parts, and upon them others, the joints being made by riveting. Thus the great ship grows from the keel upwards. As she gets bigger and bigger there comes the danger of her tipping over, and that is provided against by the use of props or shores along both sides. By the time the hull is ready for launching it is often of great weight, all of which is borne upon the wooden blocks underneath the keel. Consequently, if the ground be not good, piles have to be driven in or concrete foundations laid to enable the huge mass of the ship to be supported. For this reason a large vessel cannot be built anywhere but only on a properly prepared "slip," and it is the possession of a large number of such places which enables Great Britain to build so many ships at once. Along each side of the slip there is usually a row of tall masts with a beam projecting out sideways near the top of each, forming cranes by which the heavier parts can be hoisted into position. In other yards, again, there is a tall iron structure called a gantry along each side of the slip, while travelling cranes span across from one to the other over where the growing ship lies. These travelling cranes, worked by electricity, permit heavy weights to be handled with ease and safety. Other subsidiary cranes, meanwhile, carry the heavy hydraulic riveting machines by which riveting is done. Much riveting is done by hand, men working together in squads of four. Of these one, often quite a boy, heats the rivets in a small furnace, after which he throws them one by one to man number two, who inserts each as he receives it in its proper hole and holds it there with a big heavy hammer or else a tool called a "dolly." Number two is called the "holder-up," since he holds the rivet up in its place while the remaining two hammer it over with alternate blows of their hammers. In many cases, however, the two last described men give place to one, who is armed with a tool in shape much like a pistol and operated by compressed air obtained through a flexible tube. When he presses a trigger a little hammer inside the "pistol" gives a rapid series of blows to the rivet, completing the job more quickly than the two men can do with hand hammers. A third way of doing this operation so important in the building of a ship is by the hydraulic machine suspended from the cranes. To the casual onlooker this has the notable feature of being silent, whereas riveting by hand and still more by a pistol hammer is terribly noisy. The reason for this is that the hydraulic riveter does not hammer at all, but, like a huge mechanical hand, it takes the rivet between finger and thumb and just squeezes it down. One strange result of all this hammering in of rivets is that every ship by the time it leaves the slip has become a huge magnet, with somewhat disconcerting effects upon its own compasses, but of that more later on. Thus the great ship grows, being made piece by piece in the workshops to the shapes indicated from the mould loft and put together and riveted on the slip, until finally in due time it is ready to take its first journey. The launching of a big ship always strikes me as about the boldest and most daring thing which is ever done in the course of industry. For the huge structure, naturally top-heavy, weighing hundreds or thousands of tons, is just allowed to slide at its own sweet will. From the moment it starts until it is well in the water it is in charge of itself, so to speak, and if anything were to go wrong no power on earth could stop it once it had got a start. That nothing ever does go wrong, or scarcely ever at all events, is due to the care with which all preparations are made before that critical moment when the ship is let loose and to the skill and experience of those in charge. As the hull reaches that degree of completion when it can safely be put in the water, strong wooden structures termed launching ways are constructed one on each side of her. These really act like huge rails upon which in due course there will slide a gigantic toboggan. Tremendously solid and strong they have to be, as they have each to carry half the total weight of the ship. Under each side of the ship and upon the launching ways there is built a timber framework capable of raising the ship bodily off the blocks upon which until now it has reposed. These two frames, being connected together by chains passing beneath the keel, constitute what is called the cradle, the "toboggan" which is to slide down the ways, bearing the ship upon it. It is easy to see that being top-heavy something must be done to give the ship support before the shores on either side can be taken away, and it is equally clear that these latter must be removed before she can slide down to the water. Neither would it do to let the vessel slide upon her own plates, so we see that the cradle fulfils a twofold purpose, first enabling the ship to reach the water without ripping holes in her own plates, and secondly giving it the necessary side support to prevent it from toppling over on the way. When all is ready, but a short time before the hour appointed for the launch, a curious operation is performed. Between the main part of the cradle and the part which actually slides upon the ways wedges are inserted, hundreds of them, and they are all driven in simultaneously. Their purpose is to make the cradle slightly higher and so to lift the ship off the blocks upon which it was built. If they were driven in one at a time each would only dig its way into the timber and nothing else would happen, but being driven all together a most powerful lifting action is produced which actually raises the mighty ship. So hundreds of men stand, each with his hammer ready to strike a wedge, while the foreman stands by with a gong. At a stroke on the gong the hundreds of hammers strike as one, and so the ship is raised off the blocks, which can then be removed, to facilitate which they too are built of wedge-shaped pieces which can easily be knocked apart. The shores, too, have ceased to serve any useful purpose and can be taken away until at last all shores and all blocks are gone and the vessel rests upon the cradle only. Meanwhile tons of grease have been put on the ways, and the ship, urged by its own weight, is straining to get down the greasy slope into the element for which all along it has been intended. At this stage the only thing which restrains it is a kind of trigger arrangement on either side which locks the cradle in its place. In some yards elaborate mechanical catches controlled by electricity are used for this, but in many the old device of "dog shores" is still used. These are simply two stout wood props which fit between a projection on the ways and one on the cradle, there being one dog shore on either side. Just over each dog shore there hangs a weight. The person who performs the ceremony cuts the cord which holds the weights, the weights fall, the dog shores are knocked away, and the ship is free. Slowly at first, but gathering speed every moment, she moves majestically downwards into the water, being ultimately brought to rest by means of chains. Whether done by the simple dodge of cutting a cord or by the more refined method of pressing an electric push, the launching is generally preceded by the breaking of a bottle of wine against the bows and the pronouncement of the vessel's name. Once safely afloat, the vessel is towed away and berthed alongside a wharf whereon are cranes and other machines which lightly drop on board of her the massive turbines and boilers which in time will propel her, and the guns with which she will fight. All the multitudinous little finishing touches are here put into her until at last she sallies forth on her trial trips to show what she is capable of, after which follow trials of her guns, and then she takes her place in the fleet. Thus, briefly sketched, we see the history of the warship from her inception in the minds of her designers till she is ready to meet the foe. CHAPTER XVIII THE TORPEDO In parts of South America there lives a little fish, which, if you touch its nose, gives you a severe electric shock. The natives call it the "torpedo." When an artificial fish came to be invented, capable of giving a very nasty shock to anyone touching its snout, that name was bestowed upon it too. Even more than the submarine, the torpedo resembles a fish with its graceful outlines and its fins and tail, the chief difference being that the tail of the torpedo carries a couple of little rotating propellers. Looked at another way we may say that the torpedo is an automatic submarine. As a matter of fact, we all know it best as the weapon of the submarine. It was originally invented by an Austrian who took it to a Mr. Whitehead, an Englishman who then had an engineering works at Fiume. This gentleman took up the idea and developed it into the Whitehead torpedo, which is to-day used by half the navies in the world, the rest using something very similar. It is curious to note that the German variety is called the Schwartzkopf, the meaning of which is "blackhead." The smooth, steel, fish-like body consists of two separate parts, which can be detached from each other. The front part called the "head" is made in two kinds, the war-head and the peace-head. The former contains a large quantity of explosive and the mechanism for firing it on coming into contact with any hard body. It is only used in actual warfare. The peace-head is precisely the same shape and weight as the other but is quite harmless, so that when it is fitted to the torpedo the latter can be handled with perfect safety, a valuable feature during the frequent exercises through which our sailors go in their efforts to attain perfection in the use and handling of these valuable weapons. So much for the head. The body of the torpedo contains a beautiful little engine precisely similar to a steam-engine but on a small scale, which is driven by compressed air, a store of which is carried in a compartment provided for the purpose. Then there is an automatic steering apparatus controlled by a gyroscope, the purpose of which is to keep the torpedo steered in precisely that direction in which it is started. If any outside force, such as current or tide, deflects it from its path the gyroscope, acting through a rudder at the tail, brings it back again. Like the submarine, moreover, it has rudders which can steer it upwards or downwards and these again are controlled automatically so that having been set to travel at a certain depth the torpedo can be launched into the water with the practical certainty that it will descend to that depth and then maintain it. This remarkable result is attained by the use of two devices acting in combination, namely, a hydrostatic valve and a pendulum. Either of these alone would set the thing going by leaps and bounds, at one time above the required depth and at another equally below it, and so on alternately. The hydrostatic valve consists of a flexible diaphragm, one side of which is in contact with the water outside, so that since the pressure increases with increasing depth, it is bent inwards more or less as the depth varies. This deflection is made to control the horizontal rudders. Suppose that things are adjusted for the rudders to steer the torpedo horizontally when at a depth of ten feet: if it descends to twelve feet the increased deflection of the diaphragm will so change the rudders that they will tend to steer slightly upwards: if, on the other hand, it rises to eight feet the contrary will happen, with the result that it will descend. As has been said already, this alone would result in a continually undulating course, so the pendulum is introduced to check the too decided changes in direction and so produce a practically straight course. There is an interesting feature, too, about the propeller. It is "twin" but not, as in ships, two screws side by side. Instead, they are both set upon one shaft or rather upon two concentric shafts, like the two hands of a clock. The hour-hand of a clock is on one shaft, a solid one, which itself turns inside the shaft of the minute hand, which is hollow. The propellers of the torpedo are likewise, one on a tubular shaft and the other on a solid shaft inside it. These two shafts turn in opposite directions, but since the two propellers are made opposite "hands" they both equally push the torpedo along. The reason for this arrangement is that without it the action of a single propeller would tend to turn the torpedo over and over. Instead of the torpedo turning the propeller the propeller would to some extent turn the torpedo. The range of the torpedo depends, clearly, upon the quantity of compressed air which it is able to carry and that is limited by certain practical considerations. One of these is the space required to store it, and a very ingenious method has been invented whereby the limited supply is eked out so that in effect its quantity is increased. As the air is used up the pressure in the air-chamber naturally falls and when that has gone on to a certain extent chemicals come into action which generate heat, whereby the remaining air is raised in temperature. This, of course, increases the volume of air and the result is just the same as if a greater quantity were carried to commence with. The explosion is brought about by the pressing in of a pin which normally projects from the nose or point of the torpedo, and it would be very easy to knock this accidentally, causing a premature explosion, were not precautions taken to prevent it. These take the form of a little fan which is turned by the water as the torpedo proceeds through it. The firing-pin is locked by means of a screw so that it cannot be operated until it has been released by the withdrawal of the screw and that can only be done by the fan. Thus, while on the submarine or whatever ship carries it, the torpedo cannot be fired: it only becomes capable of explosion after it has passed through the water for a certain distance, far enough, that is, for the fan to have undone the screw. Thus the maximum of safety is combined with the maximum of sensitiveness when the object aimed at is struck. There are other forms of torpedo which although little used are by no means lacking in interest. There is the Brennan, for example, at one time much favoured in the British Navy. Its propellers were operated from the shore, by the pulling of two very flexible steel wires. The effect was much as if the thing were driven by reins, as a horse is driven. On shore was a powerful engine with two large drums on which the wires could be wound and by which they could be drawn in at a very high speed. By pulling one more than the other the torpedo could be steered and it is said that such a torpedo could be made to follow a ship through complicated evolutions and fairly hunt it down, finally overtaking and striking it. The purpose of such weapons was clearly to defend a port or roadstead against enemy craft which might try to rush in. It needed to be controlled by someone perched upon an eminence of some sort from which he could watch its course and guide it as might be necessary. Compare this with the ease with which the Whitehead torpedo is just slipped into the water and then left to itself. A submarine has in its bows either one or two tubes just large enough to hold the torpedo easily. At the front is a flap door which is kept closed while the torpedo is slipped into its place. Then the similar door at the rear of the tube is closed after which the front one can be opened. Water of course flows in and surrounds the torpedo when this takes place and a little push from some compressed air sends it floating out. As it emerges from the tube the engines are set going automatically and likewise the gyroscope which steers it, after which it continues to proceed in a straight line, soon seeking and maintaining the desired depth. Other vessels besides submarines have submerged torpedo-tubes like these, but others again have tubes of a different kind. These are fixed on the deck and have the advantage that they can be pointed in any direction almost like a gun, whereas the others are either fixed rigidly in the vessel or are only slightly movable. In the case of these other tubes the torpedo is shot over the side of the ship, off which it leaps into the water somewhat like a man diving. One other kind of steerable torpedo may be mentioned because of its ingenuity, although so far as is known it is not in actual use. It is called the Armorl, a compound of the names of its inventors, Messrs. Armstrong and Orling. It is controlled by wireless telegraphy in a very simple but effective manner. The rudder which steers it is connected to a small crank in such a way that as the crank revolves it turns the "helm" first to one side and then to the other. Suppose that, to commence with, the rudder is straight: a quarter of a revolution of the crank sets it to one side, say, the right: another quarter sets it straight again: a third quarter sets it to the left: and so on. The crank is turned by a wound-up spring, the effect of which is, however, normally held in check by a catch. When a wireless impulse comes along the catch is lifted for a moment, the crank slips round a quarter of a turn and the rudder is moved accordingly. Every impulse changes the position of the rudder and by sending suitable series of impulses it can be set as desired and changed at any moment. A difficulty with all these guided torpedoes is that they must carry some indication whereby their place at any moment will be made visible to the man in control. A little mast and flag would do, for example, but it would be a fair mark for the enemy's guns and being shot away would leave the torpedo uncontrollable. The same objection seems to apply to the wireless antenna which this last type must carry with which to receive their guiding impulses, but that can be made light and almost invisible. It is when the thing is clearly visible that the danger arises, and, of course, to serve its purpose it must be visible. The way in which this difficulty was overcome by Messrs. Armstrong and Orling is a beautiful example of ingenuity. They cause a jet of water to be blown upwards by compressed air, something like the spouting of a whale, so familiar in books of natural history. That forms a mast which is clearly visible, yet the enemy may blaze away at it to their heart's content without damaging it in the least. CHAPTER XIX WHAT A SUBMARINE IS LIKE The precise details of the submarines of our own navy or of any other for that matter are wrapped in mystery. Those who might tell do not know and those who know must not tell. True, there have been fully descriptive articles in many books and magazines, but it may be safely asserted that those descriptions are nothing more than what this chapter avowedly is, reflections by the authors on what such a craft must be like, more or less. It is just as well that this should be clearly understood, and the following description does not claim to be any more than that. Just as an aeroplane follows the general design of a bird of the swallow type, which soars without flapping its wings, so the submarine necessarily follows much the lines of a fish. It has fins which help to guide it, it has rudders which compare with the fish's tail, and while it cannot use either fins or tail to push itself along as the fishes do, it has one or more propellers which serve that purpose admirably. It is rather remarkable that, while we often imitate nature very closely, there is one very important mechanical feature which almost invariably distinguishes man-made schemes from natural ones--that is, that man uses rotary motion for many purposes whereas nature practically never does. To be perfectly honest, the natural mechanisms are far too difficult for us to copy or I expect we should do so. For example, watch a goldfish and see how cleverly it uses its tail. Man could never hope to make anything so perfect as that tail. Absolutely under its owner's control, it serves a double purpose of propelling and steering in a manner which is equally beautiful and impossible to imitate. For certain definite purposes, however, a rotary propeller is quite as good as anything which the fishes can show us. As a straightforward, simple, forward-pushing device it is equal to anything that a fish possesses. It has to be given that one duty, however, and no other, the steering being the task of a separate device, the rudder. There again, too, we see how nature does two things with one kind of mechanism while we have to use two, for the fish steers itself to right and to left with its tail in a vertical plane, but if it wants to steer upwards or downwards it twists its tail over somewhat towards a horizontal plane. The submarine, however, needs two distinct and separate rudders, one for right and left steering and one for up and down, the latter being generally a pair, one each side the vertical rudder for the sake of symmetry and balance. So we find that a submarine has a body like that of a fish except that it is rather more rotund, perhaps, than the most portly fish usually seen. It has certain fixed fins projecting from its sides, which together with the rudders enable it to be guided. It has also certain long fins called bilge keels for the purpose of keeping it from rolling too much. Also, it has one or more propellers and the two kinds of rudder already referred to. A fish, never wishing to get outside itself and walk about upon its own upper surface, needs no deck, in which the submarine differs from it, for the crew require somewhere where they can enjoy a breath of fresh air when opportunity offers. It is not a very commodious place, one could not exactly take a long walk upon it, nor even play deck-quoits, but on the back of the submarine there is an undoubted deck where the men can get out and upon which they can stand when she is on the surface. A fish, moreover, takes little heed of things upon the surface: its interests lie almost entirely below. Hence it has no conning-tower or periscope, but without these the submarine would be useless. The former is a little oblong tower something like a chimney, which projects upward from the deck, while projecting to a higher level still is the tall hollow mast with prism and lenses at the top called the Periscope, through which the commander of the submarine, himself comparatively inconspicuous, can sweep the horizon for enemies or victims. The problem of constructing a ship to travel under water is quite different from making one to travel on the surface in the ordinary way. When deep down the pressure of the water tending to crush the vessel is something enormous. Roughly speaking, it is a pound per square inch for every two feet in depth, so that if a submarine dives to a depth of fifty feet the water presses upon it with a force of about twenty-five pounds upon every square inch of its surface. On a square foot, that means over a ton. And there are many square feet of the surface in even a small submarine. Consequently, the whole shell of the ship has to be of very substantial construction. Moreover, there are curious strains which come upon the vessel when it dives to which surface ships are not subject. All these have to be reckoned as far as possible and allowed for. The size of the modern submarine is not known with any certainty, but we may put it down roughly as two hundred feet long and at least a thousand tons displacement, which means that that is its actual weight, including everything and everybody on board, when it is just about to submerge. Of course, a submarine, alone among boats, has two "tonnages." When it is on the surface it is comparatively light. Indeed, "running light" is the technical term describing it when it is riding upon the surface of the water like an ordinary ship. Then, by increasing its weight, it can cause itself to sink until the little promenade or deck called the superstructure is just submerged and little can be seen above water except the conning-tower. That is termed the "awash" position, and it is clear that it is then displacing more water than when running light, and hence its displacement tonnage must be more. When it is desired to sink, the vessel is set in motion in the awash position, from which it is gradually steered downwards by the diving rudders, until only the periscope, or it may be not even that, is left showing above. Then the maximum of water is being displaced. It is then actually displacing more than its own weight of water, for if left to itself it will rise rapidly and it is only the speed and the action of the rudders which keep it under. We see, then, that the action of a submarine in submerging itself is a real genuine dive. It sinks upon an even keel until it is awash, after which it goes under "head-first," just as a swimmer does. It also rises bow first. This tendency to rise when the combined action of movement and rudder ceases constitutes a very considerable safeguard, for should anything happen to the propelling machinery the vessel simply rises. At one time weights were attached to the under side of the hull which could be detached from the inside so that in the event of the vessel descending against the wish of her commander, she could be simply forced to the surface by the great excess of buoyancy resulting from shedding these "safety weights." Of course, in the event of a serious perforation of the hull neither of these forms of surplus buoyancy would bring the boat up. Let us now trace the operations of diving right through, supposing that our submarine is first running light. In that condition she is being driven by the oil engines which constitute her primary propelling power. The hatch or door at the top of the conning-tower is open, as also, it may be, is the one lower down, just at the foot of the tower. Men are standing upon the little platform formed by the tower, and one of them is steering by means of a wheel, keeping his eye, moreover, upon a compass also provided there, that being in fact, to the submarine when light, what the bridge is to the ordinary steamer. Other members of the crew may be upon the superstructure or deck just below, while others again are down inside, attending to their duties there. Under these conditions the inside is by no means an unpleasant place. Plenty of fresh air comes down through the open hatches and through the ventilators, it being drawn down through the latter by means of a fan. Preparations are then made for submerging. The hand-rail along the little deck is removed. The upper steering wheel and compass are covered up or shut away into the coverings provided for them, the wireless apparatus, if provided, is removed and the mast shut down. Hatches are securely closed and valves in the ventilating pipes are closed. In fact every opening is shut and made water-tight so that no risk shall be run of diving prematurely and taking in water accidentally. The quarter-master transfers himself to the steering wheel inside, where he has another compass to guide him, not of the magnetic variety this time but a cunning application of the gyroscope. The commander, too, having descended before the last hatch was closed down, takes his stand at the eyepiece of the periscope, since that is now his only means of seeing what is going on above. Another man takes his place at the wheel which controls the diving rudder, conveniently near to which is a pressure gauge so connected to the outer water that as the ship dives its depth is recorded upon its dial: that in effect is to him what the compass is to his comrade at the other wheel. With every movement of men there needs to be adjustment made to keep the ship on an even keel. Otherwise she would go down by the bow or down by the stern according as the men's weight shifted towards either end. This is arranged for by two small tanks formed in the structure of the vessel, one at either end. Connected together by pipes and controlled by compressed air, water can be transferred from one to the other at will and so the balance be always kept. Quite simple manipulations of a valve serve to accomplish this delicate balancing performance. It is perhaps not of such importance at this stage, but in a moment, when the whole vessel will be under water, a very little movement indeed will suffice to upset the equilibrium. Next water ballast is admitted into certain other spaces in the ship's structure, these spaces being called, because of the use to which they are put, ballast tanks. Gradually, as the incoming water increases the weight of the vessel, she sinks until she is awash. Then the diving rudders are set at the right angle (a pendulum serves to show the angle at which the boat points) and down she goes. As the pressure-gauge indicates the approach to the required depth the rudder is flattened out a little until just that position is found which keeps the boat under at the desired depth. Of course, when all hatches and openings were closed the supply of fresh air was cut off and after that the crew had to depend upon the air contained in the submarine. Also, they had to stop the engine, for without air it cannot work: nor can it work without giving off fumes, which, if admitted to the ship, would soon suffocate the crew. Just before closing up, therefore, the engine is stopped and electric motors take up the task of driving the ship. Now suppose that, while running submerged, the commander espies, through his periscope, an unsuspecting enemy. He tries forthwith to get as close as he can. Having noted the direction of the vessel and which way she is going and as far as possible her speed, he submerges more deeply, in all probability, lest the white streak which represents the wake caused by his periscope should reveal his presence. For possibly she is one of those terrible destroyers in fair fight with which he has but a poor chance. His only safety lying in complete invisibility, he therefore submerges entirely, trusting to his calculations to lead him in the desired direction. Thus he attempts and, if he have good luck, he succeeds in getting reasonably near to his foe. Then he must try so to man[oe]uvre that his bow shall at the right moment be pointing towards the quarry, for his torpedo tubes are in the bow and they are fixed, or nearly so at all events, so that he can only fire them in a direction nearly, if not precisely, in the direction of the centre line of his ship. Nay, he must do even more than that. It will not do to fire the torpedo directly at the ship, for a torpedo is comparatively slow. Suppose it is capable of forty miles an hour, and the other ship is a mile away: the torpedo will take ninety seconds to reach it. And in that time it may have travelled a mile or so itself. So the submarine man has to allow for that. Occasionally, therefore, he comes up a little for a moment in the hope of getting a sight of the enemy while not revealing his own presence. Or perhaps he may decide to risk being seen and caught, trusting to the chance of getting his own blow in first. He needs to be a most resourceful man, with clear and keen judgment and supreme self-confidence, or he can never grapple with such a task. Supposing, then, that he succeeds in getting undetected into a favourable position, as he thinks; at the critical moment the other ship may change its course, and the whole scheme goes awry. Perhaps he then tries to follow, but that is bad, for the end of a ship is not nearly so good a target as the side and the part hit is not so vulnerable. The first torpedo may, however, so disable the vessel as to give him chance to get into position for a second and better shot. Anyway, when he thinks he has got his best chance he lets off a torpedo, immediately diving to be safe out of harm's way for a while. Then he rises to see the result of his work. If successful he would be sure to hear the sound, for water is an excellent sound-conductor and a submarine is like a gigantic telephone ear-piece. It must be a nerve-racking job at the best of times, for the submarine is a very vulnerable craft. A member of the crew of a German submarine captured during the war is reported to have said that out of ten submarines attacked, nine were sunk. That may or may not be true, but it is certain that a very little damage, which would hardly affect an ordinary craft, is enough to sink a submarine. That is because, in order to be able to sink at will, the reserve of buoyancy has to be very low. An ordinary surface ship has at least as much of its bulk above water as below: hence it can take on board a weight of water almost equal to, if not exceeding its own weight before it sinks. At the best a submarine has not more than 30 per cent of excess and so it sinks if water amounting to only 30 per cent of its weight gets into it. In other words, the reserve in one case is at least 100 per cent: in the other at most 30 per cent. During the war a submarine saw and tried to track down, somewhat after the manner described, a slow, steady-going collier which plies between London and the north carrying coal for a London gas-works. Having, as it thought, got into position for discharging its torpedo it rose for a final look when (it must have been to the amazement of the crew) the collier was seen making straight for them. What they really thought no one will ever know, for the collier had the best of the encounter, the submarine was crushed beneath her blunt bows and sank, no doubt, for ever. The mere fact that a slow, clumsy, heavily-laden collier could ever thus vanquish an up-to-date submarine is eloquent testimony to their vulnerability. Many a submarine, too, has fallen to the shells of an armed fishing trawler simply because the shells of the latter were so much quicker in action than a torpedo, coupled with the fact that one well-placed shot, by preventing a submarine from diving, renders it almost helpless. Some submarines, however, have a gun on the deck, so that when light they can fight like a destroyer or other lightly-armed vessel. The gun shuts down into a cavity when the vessel goes below. The periscope, which forms such an important part of the submarine's equipment, is really very little more than a telescope. On the top there is a little mirror, or more probably a prism or three-cornered piece of glass which serves precisely the same purpose in that it reflects exactly as a mirror does. This is so placed that it throws the light from distant objects down the tube into the interior of the ship. In the tube are lenses very like those of an ordinary telescope and the light may be made to throw a picture upon a little table or screen or else can be viewed through another prism directly by the eye. In either case the periscope is just like an ordinary telescope set up vertically with a prism at the top so that it can "see" at right angles, and possibly another at the bottom so that the picture can be viewed at right angles to the direction of the tube. The latter is necessary only for the convenience of the observer, since otherwise he would have to be upon his back to look up the tube. The whole apparatus can be rotated mechanically and a scale forms a means of measuring the precise direction in which the prism or mirror is at any moment pointed. This is useful for measuring roughly the position of the "prey," and it may even be used as a rough means of getting the range. Another feature is the gyroscope compass, to which a passing reference has already been made. It is fairly well known that an object when spinning exhibits properties quite different from those which it possesses when still. A boy's top is a familiar illustration, for while spinning it will stand perfectly steady, supported only upon a tall peg with a sharp point, a pose which it will absolutely refuse to maintain when not spinning. Now fortunately for the present purpose it so happens that one of the peculiarities of the gyroscope or spinning-wheel is this: that if mounted in a certain way it persists in placing its axis in the same plane as that in which the axis of the earth lies. If you imagine for a moment a plane or flat surface of which the earth's axis forms a part you will see that wherever that plane cuts the surface of the earth will be a line in a north and south direction. Consequently, if any horizontal object has its axis in that same plane it, too, will always point north and south. A wheel, small but heavy, is therefore mounted with its axis supported horizontally upon a little metal raft floating in a trough of mercury and driven round at a very fast speed by a small electric motor fixed in it. Whatever its position may be to start with, this revolving wheel will in a short time slew itself round upon the supporting mercury until its own axis is in the same plane as the axis of the earth: until, in fact, its axis points due north and south. Arrived in that position, it will remain there no matter how the ship upon which it stands may turn. Since it floats freely upon mercury the motion of the ship has little effect upon it, so little indeed, that it has no difficulty in following its own peculiar bent, even if the ship be describing circles. The advantages of this are various: two of them may be stated. First, the apparatus points to the actual geographical north and not to the magnetic north, which is a slightly different direction and one, moreover, subject to frequent variation. Second, it is absolutely unaffected by the presence of iron or other magnets, a very fruitful source of error in the magnetic compass when used upon an iron ship close to steel guns and electrical machinery. Surrounded with iron as is the compass in the interior of a submarine, the magnetic needle practically refuses to work at all, so that, although employed on other ships, it is on the submarine that the gyro-compass finds its most important field of usefulness. The pressure-gauge or manometer, which indicates the depth, is probably not different in any respect, except in its dial, which is marked in feet-depth instead of in pounds-pressure, from the pressure-gauge used on steam boilers. It has either a little cylinder with a piston in it which the water presses upwards more or less against the force of a spring, a diaphragm which is bent more or less, or a bent tube which tries to straighten itself out as the pressure inside it increases. The older submarines derived their power from petrol engines similar to those which drive high-power motor-cars, but nowadays these have given place to engines of the type invented by the unfortunate Diesel who, after making one of the most brilliant and successful inventions of modern times, committed suicide, apparently in the height of his success. These engines burn cheap heavy oil in place of the costly refined petrol: they are exceedingly reliable and well-behaved, and are free from many of the troubles which affect the petrol motor. They are referred to in more detail in another chapter. In twin-screw boats there are two distinct engines, one for each propeller. Each engine, too, is coupled to a dynamo by which it can generate electric current, which is stored in large accumulator batteries until required and then withdrawn to drive the dynamos as motors while the boat is submerged, for if you feed a dynamo with current it becomes a motor. A great deal of work is done, on the submarine, by compressed air, of which large stores are carried in strong steel cylinders. For example, the ballast is ejected from the ballast tanks, when the boat is required to rise, not by pumps but by the action of compressed air from a cylinder. The simple movement of a tap thus suffices to blow out the water in a very short time. The torpedoes, too, are given their initial push which sends them out of their tube into the water by compressed air. In other ways, too, compressed air is employed and to facilitate its use there are many tubes and valves whereby the cylinders and other apparatus are connected. Like all things human, these tubes and valves have their defects, which in this case means that they leak somewhat, but this defect is of value since the leaking air helps to keep pure and sweet the air inside the boat which, when submerged, the men have to breathe. To what extent it is used I do not know, but it is a fact that certain chemicals, caustic soda for instance, have the power to absorb the objectionable carbonic acid which makes tightly-shut rooms seem "close" and uncomfortable, and if something of that sort be employed, it, together with the fresh air which thus leaks in by accident, is undoubtedly enough to enable men to live under water for many hours at a stretch. On the other hand, several instances are on record in which strong healthy young officers have, after a course of service on a submarine, been found to be suffering seriously from chest and lung trouble, brought on, no doubt, by long spells of duty in this unhealthy atmosphere. It used to be the custom to keep some white mice on board a submarine to give warning of the impurities in the air. Being very susceptible to the smell of petrol vapour, which used to be a source of considerable danger, and also to carbonic acid, these little creatures squeaked with anxiety some time before the conditions became really dangerous, thus giving timely warning. There is an instrument, however, which will give an indication of this sort and probably it has been brought in to reinforce the mice if not actually to supplant them. This interesting little instrument, which the gasworks people use for detecting leakage, consists of a metal drum with a porous diaphragm. Normally the pressure of the atmosphere upon the diaphragm is equalled and balanced by the pressure of the air inside the drum, but if there be gas in the air this balance is upset, the diaphragm is bulged in or out and a finger is thereby moved, which movement forms a measure of the amount of gas present. In conclusion, we may fittingly take a glance at what happens when a submarine founders. Only a few years ago this occurred with lamentable frequency, though now it is quite rare except under the actual stress of warfare. Several interesting schemes were therefore invented to give the men at least a sporting chance of getting to safety. One was to make the conning-tower detachable and water-tight, so that the men could get into it, fasten themselves in and float up to the surface. The practical difficulties in the way prevented this being a success. For example, if sufficiently detachable in an emergency it was difficult to make it sufficiently water-tight in ordinary use. Another and better device provided the men with small helmets and jackets, like the dress of a diver very much simplified. One of these for each man was stored in an accessible place in the boat and partitions were devised inside the hull itself in order that whatever happened there should be air entrapped somewhere wherein the men could live for a time and put on their helmets in safety. Then, thus provided, they could crawl out through the hatchway and float up to the surface. Arrived there they could inflate their jackets by blowing into them, open the window of the helmet and float upon the surface in comparative safety until rescued. This apparatus was largely installed in British submarines and a tank was built at Portsmouth where the men could actually practise with it under water. A third device may also be mentioned. This takes the form of a buoy fitted into a recess in the boat's upper surface. Sufficient line is coiled up inside it and when the occasion arises it can be released from inside. This does not in itself save the crew but it may go a long way towards ensuring their safety by letting those above know just where the sunken craft is and guiding them in their efforts to raise it. The torpedo, the weapon without which the submarine would be practically useless, is dealt with in another chapter. Enough has been said here to give a good general idea of these interesting craft, their fittings, their uses and the sort of life which befalls those who man them. CHAPTER XX THE STORY OF WIRELESS TELEGRAPHY For ages people were puzzled as to the nature of light. Pythagoras, that old Greek who invented what we now call the forty-seventh proposition of Euclid, thought that the bright body shot off streams of tiny particles which literally hit the observer in the eye. Sir Isaac Newton thought the same, but for once "the greatest scientist of all time" was wrong. For when the Danish astronomer, Romer, discovered that light travelled at the rate of somewhere about 186,000 miles per second it dawned upon people that it was scarcely believable that particles of any kind could by any means be made to move so fast. So they set about searching for a new explanation, and they found it in the idea that light was conveyed from the bright body to the observer's eye by means of waves, and as there cannot be waves of nothing they had to imagine a something to exist in all the vacant spaces of the universe capable of forming the waves of light. This something was called the luminiferous ether or light-bearing ether. We can neither see, feel, taste nor hear it. Our senses tell us nothing about it. Indeed, if it does really exist it must be so very different from anything that we do know by our senses that one is often tempted to doubt its existence. Still, it explains so many things which are otherwise unexplainable and enables us so correctly to reason from one phenomenon to another that our reason forces us to accept it as a fact, at all events until something better comes along. This wave theory in regard to light was finally set at rest by the curious discovery about a century ago by Dr. Thomas Young of London that if two lots of light were brought together in a certain way they produced darkness. Now if a ray of light were a stream of particles, two such rays would inevitably and always, if added together, produce a doubly brilliant light, and under no conceivable circumstances could they do anything else. But two lots of waves can, and do, under the proper conditions, neutralize each other so as to produce rest. This mutual action upon each other of two sets of waves can be very simply exhibited by two violin strings tuned to _nearly but not quite the same note_. If you have a violin handy, try it and you will find that when either string is plucked separately it gives a steady continuous sound, but if both be plucked at the same time they give a throbbing sound. That is because, periodically, as one string is coming up the other is going down, so that they neutralize each other, while at other times, owing to the fact that one is vibrating faster than its fellow, both are rising and falling together. When neutralizing each other there is a momentary silence, while in between the silences come the times when both are acting together and therefore producing a specially loud sound. And so as the vibrations of the faster keep gaining upon those of the slower string one hears a continual crescendo and then diminuendo repeated over and over again. So two sets of sound waves sometimes produce silence. And in like manner two sets of light waves can be made so to "interfere" (that is the technical term) that together they produce darkness. So for a hundred years or more people have, generally speaking, accepted the idea that light consists of waves in a medium called The Ether. Heat also is brought to us from the sun and from any distant hot body by similar means, the difference between light waves and heat waves being simply in their wave length or the distance apart. The different colours of light, too, are to be accounted for by different wave lengths. You have of course seen how a magnet can act upon a piece of iron at a distance. You may, too, have tried the experiment of jerking a magnet past a piece of wire, thereby generating an electric current in the wire. Both those things need, for explanation, that we assume the existence of a something invisible and undetectable by our senses between the magnet and the iron and between the magnet and the wire, by which the action of one is conveyed to the other. So people imagined another Ether capable of acting like a link between the magnet and the iron and between the magnet and the wire. Now just about half a century ago a celebrated professor of Cambridge University brought all these facts about light, heat, magnetism and electricity together and by skilful reasoning showed that but one Ether sufficed to explain all these things. He showed how magnetic and electric forces acting together could produce waves like those of light and heat. And finally he demonstrated by figures that waves so formed would necessarily travel at the very speed at which light and heat are known to move. This is known as the electro-magnetic theory of light. And not content with showing the nature of things already known, Professor Clerk-Maxwell added a prophecy that there were other waves in existence of longer wave length, which no one then knew how to make or to detect if made. Following up this prophecy many investigators sought these waves, and the first to find them was Professor Hertz of Carlsruhe in Germany. Fortunately for his position in the minds of English people he died before the War, so that his name is not sullied by the stupidities of which German professors in more recent days have been guilty. On the contrary, his writings show him to have been a kindly, modest, genial soul, and particularly gratifying is his generous assertion in one of his books that had he not himself discovered these waves he is certain Sir Oliver Lodge would have done so. He seemed quite anxious to share the credit of his discovery with his "English colleague" as he called him. Let us see then how these "Hertzian waves" are produced. In the year 1748 a Dutch experimenter named Cuneus thought he would try to electrify water. He got a glass flask and filled it with water into which he let drop one end of a chain connected to an old-fashioned frictional electrical machine. Thus he stood with the flask in his hand while a friend worked the machine. After a short time the friend stopped and Cuneus took hold of the chain to lift it out, when to his astonishment he received a shock which knocked him over, broke his flask and sent him to bed to recover. Unwittingly Cuneus had invented what became known thereafter as a Leyden jar, Leyden being the town in which he lived. It consisted, you will notice, of two conductors, the water and his hand, with an insulator, the glass, in between. To understand or rather to give ourselves a useful working explanation of how such an apparatus comes to be charged we must first imagine that everything contains a certain normal amount of electricity which we can by certain means add to or take away from at will. When we add some to anything we say we have given it a positive charge: when we subtract some we say that we have imparted a negative charge. Clearly, if we add some to one thing we must first obtain it from something else, and if we take some away from one thing we must do something with what we have taken, and so we add it to something else. Therefore whenever we charge anything positively we must charge something else negatively and vice versa. Now the ease with which we can thus charge two bodies seems to depend upon their nearness to each other, so that the easiest things to charge are two plates of metal separated by the thinnest possible insulator. Modern Leyden jars are usually formed of a thin glass jar with a lining inside and out of tinfoil. The Leyden jar is, however, only one form of the piece of electrical apparatus known as an electrical condenser, and many other forms exist. For example, a flat sheet of glass with foil above and below, or several such piled one on top of another. An eminent electrician whom I know has recently made some of two tin patty pans put bottom to bottom, nearly but not quite touching, the whole being enclosed in a solid block of paraffin wax. And I might describe many other forms, but whatever they may be every one is essentially two conductors with an insulator between. Now when a condenser has been charged its charges remain for a considerable time unless they be given a chance to escape. Suppose you have a charged condenser and that you take a wire and with it touch simultaneously both the conductors, the surplus on one "plate" will rush through the wire and make good the deficiency upon the other; it will thus in an instant become discharged. Now several scientific men had suggested, before Hertz's time, that when that occurred something else happened too. They thought that the charge did not simply rush from one plate to the other instantly, but that it oscillated to and fro for a period; that the surplus rushing round overshot the mark, so to speak, and not only made up the deficiency but caused a surplus on the opposite plate, after which this new surplus rushed back again through the wire, doing the same thing, though to a less and less degree, several times over before a condition of perfect rest was reached. To use a simple analogy, it was thought that the surplus swung to and fro like the swinging of a pendulum. We know that a pendulum swings because of its inertia, and electricity possesses a property very like inertia which, it was thought, would cause it to behave in the same way. The Ether waves travel at the rate of 186,000 miles per second, so that if, as was thought, a sudden current of electricity gives rise to a wave, currents which succeed each other at the rate of one per second would produce waves 186,000 miles apart. A hundred currents per second would give a wave length of 1860 miles. A thousand per second would give 186 miles. But a thousand succeeding currents per second are difficult to produce, and 186 miles is so very much greater than the tiny fraction of an inch, which is the length of the light and heat waves, that Hertz had to find some way of making currents succeed each other faster even than a thousand times per second. So he thought of these oscillating currents which were supposed to occur when a condenser was discharged, and he rigged up a condenser with an induction coil and a spark gap in a way which he thought would do what he wanted. There is not room here to explain the Induction Coil, indeed it is so well known that it will be quite sufficient to state that it is an apparatus which takes steady current from a battery and gives back instead a lot of little spurts or splashes of current at a rate of, say, fifty or one hundred splashes per second, according as we adjust the little vibrating spring which forms a part of the coil. We can so connect this to a condenser that each splash will charge it up; and we can combine with it a spark-gap, that is to say, a gap between two knobs, so that every time it is charged it immediately discharges again through this gap. Thus we may have, say, one hundred splashes per second, and each splash is followed by several oscillations across the air-gap, the oscillations taking place at the rate of perhaps a million per second. Each series of oscillations is called a "train." Now a million per second gives a wave-length somewhere about what Hertz wanted, so he arranged his apparatus as just described. For a condenser he used two metal plates a little distance apart, the air between forming the insulating material. He set up his apparatus in a large room, and having started the coil he moved about with a nearly complete hoop of wire, the ends of which nearly touched. Working in darkness he found after a while that sometimes he could see little sparks, very small but just visible across the gap between the ends of the bent wire. Those sparks only occurred when the coil was in action, and so he knew that the one was the result of the other's work. By careful painstaking experiment he found that the sparks were unquestionably caused by waves, and that the waves moved with the same speed as light, also that they could be reflected and refracted just on precisely the same principles as those which control light. Moreover, he measured the wave-length. At first sight it seems incredible that anyone could measure the distance apart of waves which travel at such a speed as 186,000 miles per second, but fortunately, by a special application of "interference," it is possible to make the waves stand still and tamely submit to measurement. An example of this can be seen by simply tapping a glass of water, when the ripples being reflected off the sides interfere with each other and become stationary. Stationary waves are half the wave-length of the original waves, and by using this method Hertz was able to make a measurement which at first sight seems beyond the bounds of possibility. Thus Hertz discovered how to make the waves which Clerk-Maxwell had predicted and also how to detect them when made. It was not long before the idea arose of using these waves for signalling to a distance. Many experiments were made but with no very striking success until 1896 when Marconi first came to England. Hertz had noticed that the farther apart he placed the plates of his condenser the farther could he get his tell-tale spark, so Marconi saw that the plates of his condenser, too, must be far apart. He also found that the earth could be used as one of the plates, that in fact there was a great advantage in so using it. So, one plate having to be the earth itself and the other removed as far as possible from it, the tall masts of the wireless antenna came into being. [Illustration: LISTENING FOR THE ENEMY. Special sensitive cylinders are sunk into the ground to which the usual telephonic apparatus is fixed. This enables the sappers to detect any underground operations by the enemy.] When Marconi came to England he was taken under the kindly wing of Sir William Preece, the veteran engineer of the Post Office, and the facilities which Sir William was able to give no doubt helped largely in his subsequent rapid progress. After a few experiments in London he got to work across the Channel, sending messages from the North Foreland Lighthouse to Wimereux on the coast of France, including congratulatory messages between the French authorities and good Queen Victoria. A little later he was signalling from Niton in the Isle of Wight to the mainland and to the far west at the Lizard. The first wireless telegram which was actually paid for was sent by Lord Kelvin, the father of cable telegraphy, from Niton to the mainland, whence it was transmitted by land wires to Sir George Stokes. This incident, so interesting because of its marking a stage in the history of this great invention, also because of the persons concerned, occurred in 1898. But Marconi was quickly increasing the range of his apparatus far beyond anything already mentioned. He journeyed in the Italian warship _Carlo Alberto_ as far north as Cronstadt and as far east as Italy, keeping in communication with England all the time. Then he crossed the Atlantic, again keeping up communication with England the greater part of the journey. Raising his wires to a great height by means of kites he was soon able to signal from Nova Scotia to the great station just previously built at Poldhu in Cornwall, and then wireless telegraphy from land to land across the great ocean became an accomplished fact. We all know how things have progressed since then. A telegram by Marconi is as commonplace to-day as a telegram by cable. The British Government is now engaged upon a series of stations dotted about the globe in such a way that every part of the widely separated British Empire shall be in constant touch with every other part by wireless telegraphy. In other words, the range of the system has now become such that nothing further is needed. The British Admiralty has a few wires slung to posts on the top of the offices in London, and those few wires enable touch to be maintained with ships. As almost every intelligent newspaper reader in Great Britain knows, the Germans were in the habit, during the war, of sending news to the United States by wireless telegraphy, which news was always picked up by the Admiralty installation and circulated to the British newspapers, often to the amusement of their British readers. The famous _Emden_, too, which had such a run of success until it encountered the Australian cruiser _Sydney_, met its end entirely through the intervention of wireless telegraphy. These incidents give us a good idea of the usefulness of wireless in naval warfare. In military work it is used chiefly in connection with air-craft, but of that more will be said in another chapter. [Illustration: TRANSMITTER. RECEIVER. DIAGRAM SHOWING THE PRINCIPLE BY WHICH THE AERIALS ARE CONNECTED TO THE APPARATUS.] CHAPTER XXI WIRELESS TELEGRAPHY IN WAR The history of this wonderful invention has been described in the preceding chapter. Now we will see how it is applied in warfare. Let us take first its uses in connection with the Navy. The aerial wires or antenna are stretched to the top of the highest mast of the vessel. Where there are two masts they often span between the two. Ships which have masts for no other reason are supplied with them for this special purpose. In the case of submarines, the whole thing, mast and wires included, is temporary and can be taken down or put up quickly and easily at will. The stations ashore are equipped much after the same manner as are the ships, except that sometimes they are a little more elaborate, as they may well be since they do not suffer from the same limitations. For example, the well-known antenna over the Admiralty buildings in London consists of three masts placed at the three corners of a triangle with wires stretched between all three. However these wires may be arranged and supported they are very carefully insulated from their supports, for when sending they have to be charged with current at a high voltage and need good insulation to prevent its escape, while, in receiving, the currents induced in them are so very faint that good insulation is required in order that there may not be the slightest avoidable loss. The function of these wires, it will be understood, is to form one plate of a condenser, the earth being the other plate and the air in between the "dielectric" or insulator. In the case of ships "the earth" is represented by the hull of the vessel. It makes a particularly good "earth" since it is in perfect contact with a vast mass of salt water, and that again is in contact with a vast area of the earth's surface. Salt water is a surprisingly good conductor of electricity. In land stations "earth" consists of a metal plate well buried in damp ground. The whole question of conduction of electricity through the earth is very perplexing. There seems to be resistance offered to the current at the point where it enters the ground, but after that none at all. Consequently the resistance between two earth plates a few yards apart and between similar ones a thousand miles apart is about the same. Though the earth is made up mainly of what, in small quantities, are very bad conductors indeed, taking the earth as a whole it is an exceedingly good conductor. That makes it all the more important that where the current enters should be made as good a conductor as possible, and the construction and location of the earth plates is therefore very carefully considered so as to get the best results. Wires, of course, connect the antenna to the earth, thereby forming what is called an "oscillatory circuit." The ordinary electric circuit is a complete path of wire or other good conductor around which the current can flow in a continuous stream. An oscillatory circuit is one which is incomplete, but the ends of which are so formed that they constitute the two "plates" of a condenser. In that way, according to theory, the circuit is completed between the two ends by a strain or distortion in the "Ether" between them. A continuous current will not flow in such a circuit, but an alternating, intermittent or oscillating current will flow in it in many respects as if there were no gap at all but a complete ring of wire. At some convenient point in this oscillatory circuit are inserted the wireless instruments, one set for sending and the other set for receiving, either being brought into circuit at will by the simple movement of a switch. In small installations the central feature of the sending apparatus is an Induction Coil operated by a suitable battery or by current from a dynamo. Connected with it is a suitable spark gap consisting of two or three metal balls well insulated and so arranged that the distance between them can be delicately adjusted. This is generally done by a screw arrangement with insulating handles, so that the operator can safely adjust them while the current is on. The current from the battery or dynamo to the coil is controlled by a key similar to those used in ordinary telegraphy, the action being such that on depressing the key the current flows and the coil pours forth a torrent of sparks between the knobs of the spark-gap, but on letting the key up again the sparks cease. Since the sparks send out etherial waves which in turn affect the distant receiving apparatus it follows that a signal is sent whenever the key is depressed. Moreover, if the key be held down a short time a short signal is sent, but if it be kept depressed for a little longer a long signal is sent, by which means intelligible messages can be transmitted over vast distances. Certain specified wave lengths are always used in wireless telegraphy. That is to say, the waves are sent out at a certain rate so that they follow each other at a certain distance apart. In other words, it is necessary to be able to adjust the rate at which the currents will oscillate between the antenna and earth. Every oscillatory circuit possesses two properties which are characteristic of it. These two properties are known as Capacity and Inductance. It is not necessary to explain here what these terms mean precisely. It is quite sufficient just to name them and to state that the rate at which oscillations take place in such a circuit depends upon the combined effect of these two properties. Consequently, if we can arrange things so that capacity or inductance or both can be added to a circuit at will and in any quantity within limits, we can within those limits obtain any rate of oscillation which we desire and consequently send out the message-bearing waves at any interval we like; in other words, we can adjust the wave-length at will. Fortunately, it is very easy to add these properties to an oscillatory circuit in a very simple manner. A certain little instrument called a "tuner" is connected up in the circuit and by the simple movement of a few handles the desired result can be obtained quickly even by an operator with but a moderate experience. He has certain graduated scales to guide him, and he is only called upon to work according to a prearranged rule in order to obtain any of the regulation wave-lengths. As a matter of fact, the instruments are not directly inserted in the antenna circuit, the circuit that is which is formed by the aerial wires, the earth and the inter-connecting wires. Instead, the two sides of the spark-gap are connected together so as to form a separate circuit of their own, the local circuit as we might call it, and then the two circuits, the antenna circuit and the local circuit, are connected together by "induction." A coil of wire is formed in each, and these two coils are wound together so that currents in one winding induce similar currents in the other winding, and by that means the oscillations set up by the coil in the local circuit are transformed into similar oscillations in the antenna circuit. This transformation involves certain losses, but it is found in practice to be by far the most effective arrangement. Both the circuits have to be tuned to the desired wave length, but that is done quite easily by the operation of the handles in the tuner already referred to. It is to this coupling together of tuned circuits that Marconi's most famous patent relates. It is registered in the British Patent Office under the number 7777, and hence is known as the "four sevens" patent. It has been the subject of much litigation, which proves its exceptional importance, and it is to the fact that the Marconi Company have been able to sustain their rights under it that they owe their commanding position to-day in the realm of wireless telegraphy. The Receiving Apparatus also consists of a separate local circuit which can be coupled when desired to the antenna circuit through a transformer. The same simple tuning arrangement is made to affect this circuit also, so that the "multiple tuner," as the instrument is called, controls all the circuits both for sending and for receiving. The oscillations caused in the antenna circuit by the action upon it of the etherial waves flowing from the distant transmitting station pass through one winding of the transformer and thereby induce similar oscillations in the local receiving circuit which are made perceptible by the receiving instrument. Reference has already been made to the original form of receiving apparatus called the Coherer. This, however, has been very largely superseded by the Magnetic Detector of Marconi and the Crystal Detector, both of which make the signals perceivable as buzzing sounds in the telephone. The magnetic detector owes its existence to the fact that oscillations tend to destroy magnetism in iron. It is believed that every molecule of iron is itself a tiny magnet. If that be so one would expect every piece of iron to be a magnet, which we know it is not. We can always make a piece of iron into a magnet by putting another magnet near it, but when we take the other magnet away the iron loses its power, or to be precise it _almost_ loses it. A piece of even the best and softest iron having once been magnetized retains a little magnetic power which we call "residual" magnetism. All this is easily explained if we remember first that a heap of tiny magnets lying higgledy-piggledy would in fact exhibit no magnetic power outside the heap. If, however, we brought a powerful magnet near them it would have the effect of pulling a lot of them into the same position, of arranging them in fact so that instead of all more or less neutralizing each other they could act together and help each other. Then the heap would become magnetic. On removing the powerful magnet, however, a lot of the little ones would be sure to fall down again into their old places and so the heap would at once lose a large part of its power, yet some would remain and so it would retain a certain amount of "residual" magnetism. If, then, you were to give the table on which the little magnets rest a good shake, the "higgledy-piggledyness" would be restored and even the "residual" magnetism would vanish. So we believe that the little molecules lie just anyhow, wherefore they neutralize each other and the mass of iron is powerless. When another magnet comes near, however, they are more or less pulled into the right position and the iron becomes magnetized. When the magnet is removed the magnetism which it produced is largely lost, and if last of all we give the iron a smart blow with a hammer even the residual magnetism vanishes too. Now, oscillations taking place in the neighbourhood of a piece of iron possessing residual magnetism have much the same effect as the blow of a hammer. Probably because of its rapidity an oscillating current shakes the molecules up and strews them about at random, entirely destroying any orderly arrangement of them. And Marconi used that fact in detecting oscillations. Two little coils of wire are wound together, one inside the other. Through the centre of the innermost there runs an endless band of soft iron wire. Stretched on two rollers this band travels steadily along, the motive power being clockwork, so that it is always entering the coil at one end and leaving it at the other. As it travels it passes close to two powerful steel magnets, so that as it enters the coil it is always slightly magnetized. The oscillations are passed through one of the two concentric coils, and their action is to remove suddenly the residual magnetism in that part of the moving wire which is at the moment passing through. That sudden demagnetization then affects the second of the concentric coils, inducing currents in it, not of an oscillating nature but of an ordinary intermittent kind which can make themselves audible in a telephone which is connected with the coil. This arrangement, then, causes the oscillations, which will not operate a telephone, to produce other currents of a different nature which will. The reason why oscillations have no effect in a telephone is no doubt because they change so rapidly, at rates, as has been mentioned already, of the order of a million per second. The telephone diaphragm, light and delicate though it is, is far too gross and heavy to respond to such rapidly changing impulses as that. In the magnetic detector the difficulty is overcome by making them change the magnetic condition of some iron wire which change in turn produces currents capable of operating a telephone. The Crystal Detector achieves the same result in another way. There are certain substances, of which carborundum is a notable example, which conduct electricity more readily in one direction than the other. Most of these substances are crystalline in their nature, and hence the detector in which they are used gets its name. Carborundum, by the way, is a sort of artificial diamond produced in the electric furnace and largely used as a grinding material in place of emery. It is easy to see that by passing an oscillating current, which is a very rapidly alternating current, through one of these one-direction conductors one half of each oscillation is more or less stopped. Oscillations, again, are surgings to and fro: the crystal tends to let the "tos" go through and to stop the "fros." That does not quite explain all that happens. It is not fully understood. The fact remains, however, that by putting a crystal in series with the telephone the oscillations become directly audible. The term "in series with" means that both crystal and telephone are inserted in the local receiving circuit so that the currents in that circuit pass through both in succession. The resistance of the crystal being very great, a special telephone is needed for use with it. It is quite an ordinary telephone, however, except in that it is wound with a great many turns of very fine wire and is therefore called a high-resistance telephone. Whichever of these detectors be used, then, the operator sits, with his telephone clipped on to his head, and with his tuner set for that wave length at which his station is scheduled to work, listening for signals. He may go for hours without being called up, and in the meantime he may hear many signals intended for others. He knows they are not for him, since every message is preceded by a code signal indicating to whom it is addressed. Under the conditions of warfare there is far more listening than there is sending, but when a station wishes to send the operator just switches over, cutting out his receiving apparatus and bringing his transmitting instruments into operation, and, having adjusted his tuner for the wave length of the station to which he desires to communicate, he flings out his message. In war-time, too, there is much listening for the signals of the enemy, which is the reason why as few messages are sent out as possible. In this case the man sits with his telephone on his head carefully changing his tuner from time to time in the endeavour to catch any message in any wave-length which may be travelling about. This searching the ether for a chance message of the enemy must be at times a very wearisome job, but it must be varied with very exciting intervals. On aircraft it is clear that no earth connection is possible. The antenna in that case usually hangs vertically down from the machine or airship. Under these conditions the valuable effect of the earth connection is of course lost. As will be remembered, the earth-connected apparatus sends forth waves which cling more or less to the neighbourhood of the earth's surface, while those from the non-earthed apparatus as used by aircraft tend to fly in all directions. The latter apparatus is in fact almost precisely similar to that which Hertz used in his first experiments. Hence the range is comparatively poor under these conditions, but it is good enough for very valuable work in warfare. Communication between airman and artillery by this means has revolutionized the handling of large guns in the field. To save the airman from the accidental catching of his aerial wire in a tree or on a building there is sometimes fitted a contrivance of the nature of wire-cutters so that he can at any moment cut himself free from it. So far we have dealt almost exclusively with the naval and aerial use of this wonderful invention. It is employed, though in a lesser degree, in land warfare. In such cases the aerial may be merely a wire thrown on to and caught up on a high tree. More elaborate devices are used, however, such as a high telescopic tower similar to the tall fire-escape ladders of the fire-brigades. Anyone who has seen the ladders rush up to a burning building and commence to erect themselves almost before they have stopped will realise how valuable such a machine must be for forming a temporary and easily movable wireless antenna. The power which causes the tall tower to extend itself erect in a few seconds is compressed air carried in cylinders upon the machine, while the power which takes it from place to place is a petrol motor, and since the latter can be made to re-charge the storage cylinders it is clear that in it we have a marvellously convenient adjunct to the wireless apparatus. But apart from such carefully prepared devices the men of the Royal Engineers are past masters in the art of rigging up, according to the conditions of the moment, all sorts of makeshift apparatus whereby signalling over quite long ranges can be carried on by "wireless." Such improvisations, could they be recorded, would constitute war inventions of a high order. CHAPTER XXII MILITARY TELEGRAPHY Telegraphy plays a very important part in warfare. The commander of even a small unit cannot see all that his men are doing or suffering, but is kept posted by telegraph or telephone, while communication between units depends very largely indeed upon such means. Wireless telegraphy, in land warfare, is largely devoted to communication between aircraft and the artillery batteries with which they are working, and to avoid interference with that important work telegraphy _by wire_ is employed for most other purposes. Right at the front this communication is kept up by means of that type of instrument which the soldiers call a "buzzer," for the good and sufficient reason that that is really what it does. In view of the fact that soldiers speak of their home-land, for which they are enduring all manner of risk and hardship, and to which they are longing to return, by the contemptuous-sounding name of "Blighty," we might expect that what they call a buzzer has nothing whatever to do with making sound, but in this case the name describes the thing very aptly. Its sole purpose and intent is to make buzzing sounds of either long or short duration. Perhaps the simplest way in which I can describe this useful and interesting invention is by telling you how you can make one for yourself. It is nothing more than an electric-bell mechanism connected up in a certain way. As most people know, an electric bell contains a magnet made of two round pieces of iron placed parallel and yoked together at one end by means of a third piece of iron, generally flat, while on to each round piece is threaded a bobbin of insulated wire. The iron becomes a magnet when, and only when, current flows through the wire. Near the free ends of the round pieces, or the poles of the magnet, to use the orthodox term, is placed another little piece of iron called the armature, carried upon a light spring. When the current flows in the wire the armature is pulled towards the poles against the force of the spring, but when the current ceases the magnet lets go and the armature, urged by the spring, swings back again. Behind the armature is a little post through which passes a screw tipped with platinum, and in operation this screw is advanced until its point touches a small plate of platinum carried by the armature. Connection for the current is made to this "contact screw" whence it passes to the armature, through the spring to the wire upon the magnet, through that and away. On completing the circuit, then, as when you push the button at the front door, current flows and energizes the magnet. A moment later, however, the armature moves, breaks the contact with the screw and stops the current. Then the magnet lets go and the armature springs back, making contact once more and setting the current flowing again. These actions repeat themselves over and over again quite automatically, and the hammer which is attached to the armature vibrates accordingly. That is the ordinary familiar electric bell. Cut off the hammer and you have a buzzer with which excellent telegraph signals can be sent. So much for the sending apparatus. The receiving device is simply an ordinary telephone receiver. There is sometimes a little confusion in people's minds because of this. A telephone is used, but it is used as a telegraph instrument. The sounds heard in it are not speech but long and short buzzing sounds which, being interpreted according to the code of Morse, deliver up their message. Now the telephone, by which term is always meant the receiver (the sending part of the telephone apparatus being a "microphone"), is one of the most remarkable pieces of electrical apparatus which the mind of man has ever conceived. It is astonishingly robust. With ordinary care you cannot damage it. There is no need whatever to keep it wrapped in cotton wool or even to keep it in a case. Without harm you can put it loose in your pocket. Within reason you may even drop it a few times without harm. Its cost is only a few shillings. Yet its sensitiveness is simply astounding. It will detect the existence of currents so small that any other type of instrument to deal with them has to be extremely delicate and costly. It consists of a magnet fitted into a little brass case with a little piece of soft iron fixed on each pole, while each of these "pole-pieces" is surrounded by a tiny coil of wire. The lid of the box is a disc of thin sheet-iron, and things are so proportioned that the pole pieces nearly but not quite touch this sheet-iron "diaphragm." An outer cover, generally of ebonite, serves to catch the sound-waves caused by any movement of the diaphragm and convey them to the ear. The action of the permanent magnet tends to pull the diaphragm inwards--to bulge it in slightly--so that it is in a state of very unstable equilibrium. Because of this instability a very tiny current flowing through the coils and either adding to or subtracting from the strength of the magnet is sufficient either to draw it still closer or to let it recede a little. Whether it approaches or recedes depends upon the direction of the current through the coils and makes no difference to the sound. The movement of the diaphragm is great or small according as the current is strong or weak: any variation in the current causes a perfectly corresponding movement in the diaphragm. Even those very small and very complex changes in air-pressure which give us the sensation of sound are very faithfully followed by this simple bit of sheet iron, so that the sounds are faithfully reproduced for our benefit. At the moment, however, we are not dealing with speech but with buzzing sounds, which are very simple, being merely a rapid succession of "ticks." The telephone, it must be remembered, takes no notice of a steady current, except when it starts and stops. But each time that occurs it gives a tick. Hence, if we start and stop a current very rapidly, or to use another term, make it rapidly intermittent, we get a rapid succession of ticks, and if rapid enough they form a humming, buzzing, or singing sound. If very fast you can get a positive shriek. The precise character of the sound depends entirely upon the rapidity of the intermittency. Now it is easy to see that the current passed through an electric-bell mechanism is intermittent. It is the very nature of the apparatus to make the current intermittent. It is by so doing that it works. Therefore, if we pass the same current which works a bell through a telephone we get a buzzing or humming sound according to the speed of interruption. The vibration of the armature itself also causes a humming sound of a similar note or tone to that heard in the telephone, but it must be clearly understood that these two sounds are quite different. One is the result of mechanical motion, the other is the result of electrical action producing motion in the diaphragm of the telephone. When you listen in the telephone it is not that you hear the sound of the bell mechanism, you hear another sound altogether, although, since both have the same origin, both have the same note or tone. Take any old bell, then, which you may happen to have or be able to procure and an old telephone such as can be bought for a shilling or so at a second-hand shop, and these together with a pocket-lamp battery can be formed into a military field telegraph. The way to connect these up is to run a wire from one of the copper strips on the battery to one of the terminal screws on the bell, a second wire from the other screw on the bell to one of the flexible wires of the telephone, which may be a mile away if you like, a third wire returning from the other flexible wire of the telephone back to the battery. To send signals all you have to do is to touch the return wire upon the second strip of the battery for short or long intervals, thereby making the dot-and-dash signals. Or a simple form of key can easily be contrived for the purpose. Every time you complete the circuit the buzzer will buzz, in other words, it will permit an intermittent current to pass round the circuit and a buzzing or humming sound will be heard in the telephone, no matter how far away it may be. This arrangement, however, involves two wires between the two stations, and in practice only one is usual. This could be arranged by running the third wire from the telephone not back to the sending station but to a peg driven into the earth, connecting the second pole of the battery in like manner to an earth pin at the sending end. Thus the return wire would be done away with and the earth utilized instead. To do that, unfortunately, you would need to increase very greatly the power of your battery, for although the path through the earth itself offers practically no resistance at all to the current, the actual places where the current passes to earth and from earth, especially if they be simply temporary pegs driven into the ground, offer very considerable resistance, so that in order to get enough current through the buzzer to make it work would need a powerful battery. There is another way, however, by which that difficulty can be overcome quite easily. Probably all my readers know something of the induction or shocking coil, wherein intermittent currents in one part of the coil induce intermittent currents of a somewhat different kind in another part of the coil. Few people realize, however, that the same effect can be attained, within limits, in a single coil such as the winding upon the magnet of an electric bell. Watch a bell at work and you will notice a bright spark at the place where the contact is made and broken. That spark is due to a sudden rush of current which takes place in the coil when the original current is stopped, in other words, when the contact is broken. It is as if the coil gives a rather vicious "kick" every time the current is stopped. There is not much electricity in this "kick" current, but it is very forceful, and it is that force which makes it actually jump across the gap after contact has been broken, thereby causing the spark. Now we can capture most of that energy and make it go a long distance through wire and through earth carrying our messages for us. To do this we need to make a new connection on the bell at the place where the spring is fixed. Then we can make two circuits. One is between the two terminal screws of the buzzer, in which circuit we must include the battery and the key. That circuit will be just as it would be if we were fixing the buzzer to announce our visitors at the front door. The second circuit is different: lead one wire from the new connection just made and take it to a pin driven into the ground. If the ground is just a shade moist a wire meat-skewer will answer admirably. Then lead a second wire from that one of the two terminal screws which is connected directly to the winding of the magnet (not to that one which is connected to the contact screw) and lead it away to your distant station. At the other station connect the single wire to the telephone as before and the other "end" of the telephone to a pin in the earth. You will find that the "kicks" from the coil will traverse wire and earth-return quite easily, while there will be no difficulty about working the bell, for the small battery will do that quite well. In fact, after cutting the hammer off and so converting a bell into a buzzer, I have got quite good results with one-third of a pocket-lamp battery. The little flat batteries so familiar to us all if divested of their outer covering will be found to consist of three little dry cells any one of which is quite capable of sending messages in the way described as far as any amateur is likely to want to send. To be able to send and receive at either end it is only necessary to connect both telephones and both coils "in series." That is to say, connect one end of the coil to the long wire and the other to one wire of the telephone, the other wire of the telephone being connected to earth. If this be done at both ends signals can be sent and received both ways. Many young readers, scouts, members of cadet corps and the like, will find great pleasure and interest in constructing and working this apparatus, besides which it shows precisely what the official "buzzer" is like. Although beautifully made, of course, the army instrument is essentially just that and little more. It has an additional feature, however, namely, a microphone, so that when desired it can be used as a speaking telephone for transmitting verbal messages. It also has the bottom of the case made of a brass plate so that earth pins are often unnecessary, the case dumped down upon the ground being a good enough "earth." Buzzers are not used for very long lines: forty miles is about the limit, and usually the distances are very much less. That is because long lines rather object to rapidly changing currents flowing through them. Why, you say, what currents could change more rapidly than telephone currents carrying speech, yet they go for hundreds of miles? True, but in that case there are two wires, flow and return, twisted together all the way, under which conditions they interact upon each other in such a manner as to abolish the difficulty to which I am referring. Buzzers and indeed all the telegraph circuits consist of one wire and the earth, which is quite different. Another objection to the buzzer is that it is apt to interfere with others. For instance, if two buzzer sets are at work anywhere near each other and the wires run parallel for a distance they will be able to hear each other's signals as well as their own. If two such sets are earthed near together the same thing happens, the signals of one are picked up by the other, a very annoying state of affairs for the operators. Right at the front, however, amid the rough and tumble of the actual fighting, the buzzer is supreme. The wire used is sometimes plain copper enamelled: more often, however, it is a mixture of steel and copper strands twisted together and covered with a strong insulating covering. This is carried on reels in properly fitted carts which can advance at a gallop, paying out the wire as they go. The inner end of the wire is connected to the axle of the reel in such a way that a telegraphist in the cart is in communication all the time with the starting-point, the wheels of the cart providing him with an earth connection. When laying these wires another interesting little device is often used--an earth plate on the operator's heel. Thus, while carrying the wire along, laying it as he goes, he can still be in communication with the starting-point every time he puts his heel to the ground. For the longer lines away back from the fighting the methods employed are just the same as those of peace. "Sounder" instruments are used, Wheatstone automatic machines, duplex and quadruplex systems, whereby two and four messages are sent simultaneously over the same wire, indeed all the contrivances and refinements of the home telegraph office are to be found in the field telegraph offices. But it would hardly be fitting to describe them here. Some information on the subject will be found in "The Romance of Submarine Engineering," where their application to cable telegraphy is dealt with. A genuine speciality of warfare, however, is the methods by which makeshift arrangements can be set up, such as sending telegraph messages over a telephone wire without interfering with the latter. Imagine that A and B are the two wires of a telephone circuit running (for the sake of simplicity) from north to south. At the south end I connect a telegraph set to both wires while you, we will imagine, do the same at the north end. You and I can then signal to each other without the telephone man hearing us at all. To him the two wires are flow and return, to us they are both "flow," the earth being our return. Thus our signals never reach his instruments at all. But when we each connect to both his wires, do we not "short-circuit" or connect them to each other, thereby destroying his circuit? No, we are too cunning for that. We first connect the two wires A and B together with a coil of closely wound wire, having, in scientific language, much "inductance," and telephone currents shun a coil of that sort. Then we make our connection to the centre of that coil so that our currents go to A through half the coil and to B through the other half. This enables us to use the apparatus without interfering with the other fellow at all. For this, by the way, we must use ordinary telegraph instruments. We cannot employ a buzzer, for these coils which we use to obstruct the passage of the other man's telephone currents would also obstruct the changing currents from a buzzer. The slow, steady currents of the ordinary telegraph pass quite easily, however. Again, suppose you and I want to communicate by buzzer and there is already a wire laid passing both of us but in use already for ordinary telegraphy. We only need to add a "condenser" to our apparatus and we can manage all right. As a matter of fact, the service instruments generally have condensers partly for this very purpose. Each of us then connects his instrument to the wire and to earth, after which we can signal to each other while the telegraphist is unaware of the fact. The reason that is possible is the reverse of what we saw just now. There we had a coil which obstructed buzzer or telephone currents but passed ordinary telegraph currents. Here we use condensers which will pass our buzzer currents but not the ordinary telegraph currents. Thus the soldier telegraphist is up to many dodges whereby he can save time or save material, both of which may be precious. As in bridge building and other branches, he needs to be quick to adapt himself to circumstances, to utilize to the full any opportunities which may present themselves. But his principles are quite simple and do not differ in any way from those of peace. It is only in applying them that the differences arise. CHAPTER XXIII HOW WAR INVENTIONS GROW The inventor of one of the devices described later on in this book modestly claims that he did not invent it but it invented itself. What he means is that he worked step by step, from simple beginnings, each step when complete suggesting the next. To put it another way, many inventions grow in the inventor's mind, sometimes from unpromising beginnings, the most unlikely start often resulting in the most successful ending. Who has not heard of the "tanks" which made such a name for themselves when they suddenly appeared in Northern France? The British Commander-in-Chief simply mentioned that a new type of armoured car had come into use with good results, but the newspaper men set the whole non-Teutonic world laughing with droll stories of huge monsters suggestive of prehistoric animals which suddenly began to crawl through the slime and mud of the battle-field, pouring death and destruction upon the astounded Germans. How they came to be called tanks no one seems to know clearly but that is how they will be known for all time. It has been suggested that they were so named because tank is one of the things which they certainly are not, the intention being thereby to add to the mystification of the enemy. That is by the way, however, for we are more concerned with the things than with their name. Their precise origin is wrapped in mystery but we have it on excellent authority that they grew out of the peaceful "tractor," originally intended to drag a plough to and fro across a field in the service of the farmer. An illustration of one of these interesting machines will be seen in this book which will well repay a little study. It consists of a steel frame or platform upon which is mounted a four-cylinder petrol engine with a reservoir above to carry the supply of fuel and with a radiator in front to cool the water which keeps the engine from becoming too hot. Towards the back of the vehicle is what is called by engineers a worm-gear, the function of which is to reduce the one thousand revolutions per minute of the engine to somewhere near the slow speed required of the wheels of the tractor. This worm-gear is simply a wheel with suitable teeth on its edge in conjunction with a screw so made that its thread can engage comfortably with the teeth. This latter, because of the wriggling appearance which it presents when it is revolving is called a worm, which name it gives to the whole apparatus. Both wheel and worm are mounted in bearings which form part of a case enclosing the whole so that dirt is excluded while, the case being filled with oil, ample lubrication is assured. The shafts of both wheel and worm emerge through holes in the case. It will easily be seen that each single turn of the worm will propel the wheel one tooth, so that if the wheel have fifty teeth, for example, the worm will turn fifty times to the wheel's once. Thus a great reduction in speed is attainable with this device and what is equally valuable, a great increase of power also results. Thus a small engine, working at a high speed, is able by means such as this to pull very heavy loads at a slow speed. It is evident, however, that the reduction necessary in this case cannot be attained even by a worm-gear, for there are other wheels visible which show that ordinary tooth gearing is also employed to reduce the speed even further before it is applied to driving the tractor along. Practically all the other gear which we see in the picture, above the platform, consists of the controlling apparatus. The object with a screw-like appearance just behind the engine is not really a screw but is a flexible coupling joining the engine to the worm-gear, its "flexibility" enabling the two to work sweetly together even though by chance they may get just a little out of line with each other. But by far the most interesting part of the machine is that which is underneath the frame. At one end we see a pair of ordinary-looking wheels and between them the gear for swinging them to right or left for steering purposes, but even they are somewhat unusual, since they will be seen to have flanges or rims round the edge for the purpose of biting into the earth, so that they may be able to guide the machine the better in soft ground. The back wheels, however, are quite peculiar, for there is a pair on each side and round each pair is a chain somewhat after the fashion of a huge bicycle chain. The links of this chain are made of tough steel and they are two feet wide, so that each chain forms a broad track upon which the machine moves. The links of this track-chain will be seen to be tooth-shaped so that they grip or bite deeply into the yielding ground. The teeth, moreover, are shaped like those of a saw and they are so placed as best to help the tractor forward. Between the two chain-wheels will be noticed a row of smaller wheels and it is these which largely support the weight of the machine, the chains forming tracks upon which they run. The wheels actually turned by the power of the engine are the chain-wheels, and their action is such as to keep on laying down and then taking up again two broad firm tracks along which, at the same time, they keep propelling the other wheels which carry the weight above. The effect, really, is just as if the machine had a pair of driving wheels two feet wide and of enormous diameter, of such diameter, in fact, that the part in contact with the ground is almost flat. Thus there is always a broad bearing surface to prevent sinking in soft earth, while the tooth-like shape of the links gives a firm hold even under very adverse conditions. This form of construction has been used for some few years now under the name of "caterpillar" or "centipede" traction. A glance at the picture will explain those names, particularly if the chain-driven part of the vehicle be imagined to be a little longer than it is in the particular machine shown. The idea of armouring a vehicle with bullet-proof plates is also a fairly old conception. Armoured trains were used again and again during the South African War, and armoured motor-cars became familiar to most people. In the case of cars, however, the armour could only be very light and the guns carried were limited practically to a single machine-gun and some rifles. Moreover, the operations of a car are very largely confined to such places as are blessed with good roads or smooth plains. An armoured car of the older type would have cut a poor figure amid the shell-holes and mine-craters of Northern France. It would have had to keep to the roads and so it was little used. But the idea of an armoured vehicle was good and a good idea is never entirely lost. Sooner or later some genius puts it to good use. Thus the idea of an armoured vehicle came to be associated with the idea represented in the centipede tractor and the result was the tank. Why not armour a large centipede, said someone? Make it very big and strong. It will trample down the barb-wire entanglements as if they were grass. If made long enough and rightly balanced it will pass over the trenches like a moving bridge. Nothing but a direct hit from a heavy gun will do it much harm. For, observe, the mechanism can be entirely covered up, all the vital parts can be well protected, and the chain tracks can be so strong as to be almost undamageable. [Illustration: _By permission of_ _Messrs. Foster and Co._ THE PARENT OF THE TANK. Here we see an innocent agricultural tractor with caterpillar hind wheels. It is out of such a machine that the idea of the formidable tank was evolved.] Thus we get a glimpse of the growth of this simple peaceful agricultural machine into one of the most striking mechanical achievements of the Great War. Another thing which seems to have grown more or less of itself is the bomb or grenade. Before the time of modern accurate fire-arms hand-grenades were quite a recognized weapon. The "Grenadier" Guards owe their title to this fact and carry the design of a bursting grenade upon their uniforms. Yet until a few years ago everyone thought that such things were done with for ever: that with modern rifles soldiers would seldom get near enough together to use grenades and that if they did the bayonet would be the weapon to be used. When, however, the Germans were driven back at the battle of the Marne and found themselves compelled to entrench in order to avoid further disaster, it soon became evident that neither rifle nor bayonet nor both together entirely filled the needs of the infantryman. Since the Allies were not powerful enough to drive the Germans from their trenches forthwith, they, too, had to entrench. Gradually the trenches drew nearer and nearer together and at the same time skill in entrenching increased. Thus a time soon arrived when both rifle and bayonet were largely useless for purposes of offence. Then the hand-grenade came into its own again, for the men could throw it from the depths of their own trench high into the air in the hope that it would fall into the trenches of the enemy. The call for these quickly produced the supply. There is little need to describe them here, for who among us has not intimate friends who used them again and again? This much may be said, however. They were little hollow balls of cast iron, sometimes chequered so that when they burst they flew into many fragments. Inside was a charge of explosive with a suitable fuse or firing mechanism. Some were fixed to the end of a stick for convenience in throwing, while others were simply handled like a cricket-ball. They serve to show us, however, how an old idea may under fresh conditions be revived into what is practically a new invention. Another example of the same sort is the revival of chain mail. Who, but a few years ago, would have thought it possible that modern soldiers would go to battle sheathed in shirts consisting of little metal plates cunningly connected by wire links and so overlapping each other as to form a perfect shield for all the more vital parts of the body? To what extent these were worn I do not know, for the British soldier is a very shy fellow in some ways and there are few who would not be a trifle ashamed to let their comrades see them thus garbed. They would feel that it was a confession of fear, and however afraid an Englishman may be he will never admit it. He is really a pious fraud, for the more he is really afraid inwardly the more courageously will he act just to hide his fear. Since, however, the bullet-proof helmet is worn officially nowadays there seems no reason whatever why the bullet-proof waistcoat should not be adopted officially too. It is very light and very flexible and it is claimed that it is quite effectual in stopping rifle and machine-gun bullets. Thus we see in what different ways inventions grow. Some are warlike from first to last, like the gun and the torpedo, but we find a vast range of peaceful things growing into implements of warfare, as the farmer's tractor has been developed into the tank, while not less interesting are the old ideas revived and adapted to modern needs, exemplified by the hand-grenade and the chain armour. CHAPTER XXIV AEROPLANES Of all the great inventions perhaps the most striking because of the suddenness with which they have come upon us are those relating to the navigation of the air. Until a few years ago "to fly" was taken to typify the impossible. Now we see men flying every day and there is scarcely anyone who has not had a friend or relative in the Flying Corps. Recent experience, too, has shown that this one invention has revolutionized warfare in several important departments, particularly in the use of very heavy long-range artillery. Huge guns, hidden in a hollow or behind a hill, have been set to throw shells on to an unseen target, while a man in an aeroplane above watches the result and signals back by wireless. Thus by the aid of aircraft the power of artillery has been immensely increased. Again, aircraft have superseded cavalry for reconnaissance purposes, that is to say, for finding out the enemy's strength and preparedness. Only a few years ago a General who needed information as to his foe would send forward a screen of cavalrymen who would cautiously creep forward until, judging by what they could see and by what sort of a reception they got, they were able to form some idea of the foe's arrangements. Nowadays, however, the airmen sail over his head and take photographs of him and his positions. A careful commander to-day not only screens his men and his guns from view along the land but he also tries his best to make them invisible from above. And, speaking of inventions, the soldiers have shown a degree of ingenuity in making themselves and their guns invisible which almost merits a volume to itself. The airman, therefore, goes up and sails over the enemy. He may be simply observing for some particular unit of artillery, or he may be sent to find out things generally--nothing in particular, but anything which seems likely to be of use. He looks out intently and carefully, moreover he not only looks with his own eyes: as has just been mentioned, he takes photographs, which can be developed on his return and studied minutely at leisure. He may, or may not, according to circumstances, send back reports of an urgent nature by wireless telegraphy. In some cases these duties are all carried out by one man, but in others there are two: one the pilot who looks after the working of the machine, and the other the observer whose whole attention can thus be devoted to scrutinizing the enemy. Of course, when aeroplanes go on scouting expeditions like this they are apt to be attacked by the enemy both by anti-aircraft guns and also by other aeroplanes. The former can only be met by high speed and the steering of a somewhat erratic course so as to confuse the gunners and prevent them from taking good aim. The other aeroplanes, however, must be met by actual fighting. The only way to defeat them is to go for them and attack them, a machine-gun being the most usual weapon. Besides those who go up for definite scouting operations or to "spot," as it is termed, for the artillery, there are other machines whose sole duty is fighting. These go up for the purpose of driving off those machines of the enemy which may come prying, or to keep the ground, so to speak, for the scouting machines and enable them to do their work unmolested. Then there are, of course, still others whose function is to carry out bombing expeditions. All these different duties call for different types of machine, but I do not propose to go into the differences here since changes are so rapid in this particular field that only the general principles remain unchanged for any length of time. What has just been hinted, however, as to the different kinds of work which the aeroplane is called upon to do will enable the reader to see why different kinds of machines are needed. So far we have only spoken of aeroplanes. There is a kind of machine sometimes called a hydroplane but which we are gradually getting to call a sea-plane. The latter term is much to be preferred, since the former is also in use to denote a special kind of high-speed boat. Now a sea-plane only differs from an aeroplane in that it has floats instead of wheels. The aeroplane has wheels to enable it to alight upon and arise from the ground: the sea-plane has floats by which it can alight upon the water and arise from the water also. In some instances this float idea is made so pronounced a feature of the machine that it becomes a flying boat. Sea-planes are therefore really only aeroplanes specially adapted for a certain purpose. They are really just as much aeroplanes as those machines which go by that name. It is somewhat unfortunate, therefore, that a separate term is used to describe them. But there it is: names grow in a very curious way, not always in a logical way, and a name having once stuck to a thing in the mind of the public it is very difficult to make any alteration. Aeroplanes, then, may be said to include a subdivision known as sea-planes, and for the rest of this chapter what is said of aeroplanes will apply to sea-planes also. Without doubt, these are the fastest vehicles in existence. Many of them can exceed a speed of a hundred miles an hour. Consequently, the pilot lives while he is aloft in the equivalent of a furious gale, and it would seem as if that must produce such a degree of cold as to be almost unendurable. Moreover, it appears that this cold is almost as bad in summer as in winter, for the temperature high up in the air is much the same all the year round. The consequent muffling up with thick clothes and gloves, while it mitigates the cold, must add greatly to the pilot's difficulties in managing his machine. The protection for his eyes and ears which is made necessary by the same conditions must likewise add to his difficulties or at any rate to his discomfort. On the other hand, the effect of gliding at a very high speed over a perfectly smooth track, for that is in effect what it is, is very exhilarating, which to some extent compensates for the other drawbacks. Moreover, the handling of such a machine in the air, particularly if a fight is included in the programme, appeals strongly to the sporting instincts of young men, so much so that during the War, in spite of the dangers and hardships, and the continual loss of life, there was never a dearth of men anxious to become pilots. Owing to these considerations, too, it follows that the best aviators are to be found in those lands where the people are most devoted to sports. Hence, as we have it on excellent authority, the young men of Great Britain and the United States, with their love of adventure and their strong sporting instincts, make better men in the air than the Germans. But really we are more concerned here with the machines than with the men, so let us get back to our subject. The aeroplane consists of one or more "planes" or surfaces which, on being held at a certain slant and then pushed forward rise or remain supported in the air. Therefore the plane or planes need to be supplemented by first a tail and horizontal rudder to hold them at the correct slant, and an engine and propeller to drive them forward. It is not necessary, here, to go over the history of the aeroplane, as that has been told so often. It is not of much interest, moreover, except to those who are particularly concerned with small details of construction, for in a general way the machine of to-day is very little different from one pictured by Sir George Cayley a hundred years ago. It is only the perfecting of the details which has transformed a dream into a very real thing. So we will look only at the construction of the aeroplane in a general way, to do which we must first consider why it flies at all. It is due to the well-established law that action is always accompanied by a reaction equally strong and in the opposite direction. When a gun is fired the explosion not only drives the shell forward but equally drives the gun itself backward. The backward energy of the recoil is precisely equal to the forward energy of the shell. The two are equal but in opposite directions. In like manner a rocket ascends because the hot gases from the paper cylinder blow forcibly downwards, thereby producing an equal reaction upwards. Now the plane of a flying machine is held with its forward edge a little higher than its rear edge, so that as it is pushed along it tends to catch the air and throw it downwards. Hence the reaction tends to lift the plane upwards. When the machine starts the reaction is not sufficient to overcome gravity, which is trying to hold the machine down upon the ground, but as the speed increases and the air is thrust down with more and more violence the point is ultimately reached when the reaction is able to overcome gravity and the machine ascends. When a sufficient height is reached, the pilot alters the position of his horizontal rudder or "elevator" so as to make the position of the plane more flat, with the result that it throws the air downwards to a less extent, and the reaction is thereby reduced until it is only just sufficient to keep the machine at the same height. To descend, the position of the plane is made still flatter, the reaction is reduced still more and gravity has its way once again, bringing the machine to earth. In other words, the machine acts under the influence of two forces: the downward pull of gravity and the upward reaction due to the action of the machine in throwing the air downward. The former never varies, the latter can be varied by the pilot at will: he can increase it by increasing the speed or by increasing the tilt of his plane or planes: he can reduce it by diminishing the speed or the tilt. Since generally speaking the speed of his engine will remain constant, he rises, remains at the same height or falls, at will, by the simple manipulation of the elevator through which he can change the tilt or inclination. Most machines have a fixed tail as well as a horizontal rudder or elevator, the same being so set that it tends to keep the plane in a certain normal inclination, the elevator being called in to increase that or diminish it as may be required. In addition to the elevator there is also another rudder of the ordinary kind, such as every ship and boat has, for guiding the machine to right or left. The elevator steers up and down, the rudder steers to either hand. Provision is also made for balancing the machine. This is sometimes in the form of two small planes hinged to the main plane, one at either end, connected together and to a controlling lever by wires, so that by their use the pilot can steer the right-hand side of his machine upwards and the left-hand downward, or vice versa, if through any cause he finds a tendency to capsize. In some machines the same effect is produced not by separate planes but by pulling the main plane itself somewhat out of shape, but precisely the same principle is involved. The planes are usually made with a slight curve in them, so that they may the better catch the air and "scoop" it downwards, so to speak. They usually consist of fabric specially made for the purpose, stretched upon a light wooden framework. The whole framework is usually of wood with metal fittings frequently made of aluminium for the sake of lightness. The engines have been mentioned in another chapter. The propeller which is almost invariably fixed directly upon the shaft of the engine has two blades only and not three as is usual with those of ships. Precisely why this should be so is not clear, but experience shows that two-bladed propellers are preferable for this work. They are made of wood, several layers being glued together under pressure, the resulting log being then carved out to the required shape. This makes a stronger thing than it would be if cut out of a single piece of wood. All parts, engine, elevator, rudder and balancing arrangement, are controlled by very simple means from the pilot's seat. In monoplanes there is but one main plane, resembling a pair of bird's wings. Or if we care to look upon it as two planes, one each side of the "body," then we must call it a pair. Since the name "mono" indicates one it is best to think of it as one plane although it may be in two parts. The biplane has, as its name implies, two planes, but in that case there can be no doubt, since they are placed one above the other. Machines have been made with three planes and even with as many as five, but monoplanes and biplanes appear to hold the field. It is not possible for an aeroplane to be in any sense armoured for protection against bullets: for defence the pilot has to depend upon his own cunning man[oe]uvres combined with the fast speed at which he can move. For offensive purposes he usually has a machine gun mounted right in front of him with which he can pour a stream of bullets into an opponent or even, by flying low, he can attack a body of infantry. It is recorded that one German prisoner during the war, speaking of the daring of the British pilots in thus attacking men on foot, exclaimed, "They will pull the caps off our heads next." Some of the aeroplanes have their propeller behind the pilot and some have it in front. The latter, to distinguish them, are called "Tractor" machines, since in their case the propeller pulls them along. Now it is easy to see that a difficulty arises in such cases through the best position for the gun being such that it throws its bullets right on to the propeller. But that has been overcome in a most simple yet ingenious way. The gun is itself operated by the engine with the result that a bullet can only be shot forth during those intervals when neither blade of the propeller is in the way. The propeller is moving so fast that it cannot be seen and the bullets are flying out in a continuous rattle, yet every bullet passes between the blades and not one ever touches. It is easy to see that when an aeroplane is manned by a single man, as is often the case, he must have his hands very full indeed, what with the machine itself and the gun as well. In fact, he often has to leave the machine for a short time to look after itself while he busies himself with the gun. Now there we see a sign of the wonderful work which has been done in the course of but a few years in the perfecting of the aeroplane, the result of a series of improvements in detail which make but a dreary story if related but which make all the difference between the risky, uncertain machine of a few years ago and the safe, reliable machine of to-day. Modern machines are inherently stable. The older ones had the elements of stability in them but they were so crudely proportioned that these inherent qualities did not have a chance to come into play. If one drops a flat card edgewise from a height it seems as if it ought to fall straight down to the ground. Yet we all know from experience that it seldom does anything of the kind. Instead, it assumes a position somewhere near horizontal and then descends in a series of swoops from side to side. There we see the principle at work which, in a well-designed aeroplane, causes inherent stability. The explanation is as follows. The aeroplane is sustained in the air through the upward pressure of the air resisting the downward pull of gravity. That has been fully explained already. Now gravity, as we all know, acts upon every part of a body whether it be an aeroplane or anything else. But for practical purposes, we may regard its action as concentrated at one particular point in that body, called the "centre of gravity." Likewise, the upward pressure of the air acts upon the whole of the under surface of the plane or planes, yet we may regard it as concentrated at a certain point called the "centre of pressure." Further, we all know from experience that a pendulum or other suspended body is only still when its centre of gravity is exactly under the point of suspension. If we move it to either side it will swing back again. In just the same way, the only position in which an aeroplane will remain steady is that in which the centre of gravity is exactly under the point of suspension or, in other words, the centre of pressure. For the centre of pressure in the aeroplane is precisely similar to the point of suspension of a pendulum. Let us, then, picture to ourselves an aeroplane flying along on a horizontal course with this happy state of things prevailing. Something we will suppose occurs to upset it with the result that it begins to dive downwards. It is then in the position of sliding downhill and instantly its speed increases in consequence. That increase of speed causes the air to press a little more strongly than it did before upon the front edge of the planes. In other words, the centre of pressure shifts forward a little, with the result that the centre of gravity is then a little to the rear of the centre of pressure. A moment's reflection will show that with the centre of pressure (or point of suspension) in advance of the centre of gravity there is a tendency for the machine to turn upwards again, or, in other words, to right itself. If, on the other hand, the initial upset causes it to shoot upwards the speed instantly falls off and the centre of pressure retreats, turning the machine downwards once more. And the same principle applies whatever the disturbance may be. Instantly and automatically a turning force comes into play which tends to check and ultimately to correct what has gone wrong. This principle explains the behaviour of the card dropped from an upstairs window and, no doubt, as has been said, it operated also in the early flying machines, but in their case other factors caused disturbing elements with which the self-righting tendency was not strong enough to cope. As time went on, however, experience taught the makers how to avoid these disturbing factors until at last the self-righting tendency was able to act effectively, thus producing the aeroplane which is inherently stable and which will, for short periods at all events, fly safely without attention from its pilot. Each little improvement in this direction was an invention. Of course, there were certain men whose names stand out prominently in the history of the aeroplane, notable among whom are the Wright brothers, but the final result is due to innumerable inventions, many of them by unknown men. But perhaps someone will say, how can you possibly talk about final results in a matter which is still in its infancy? The answer to that is that so far as the safe, "flyable" machine is concerned, it has arrived. Little now remains to be done in that direction. Further improvements there will, of course, be, but the great fundamental problems of flight have been solved. CHAPTER XXV THE AERIAL LIFEBOAT Balloons had not long been invented when the idea arose of a device by means of which an aeronaut who found himself in difficulties might be able to reach the ground in safety. In other words, the need was felt for something which should play towards the balloon the part which the lifeboat does to the ship. The original idea of a parachute was even older than that, since we are told of a man away back in the seventeenth century who amused the King of Siam by jumping from a height and steadying his descent by means of a couple of umbrellas. It was not, however, until the very end of the eighteenth century or the beginning of the nineteenth that descents were made from really considerable heights from balloons. The usual arrangement then was to have the parachute hanging at full length fastened below the basket, or tied to one side of the balloon in such a manner that it could be detached by cutting the cords that held it up. When the parachute was carried below the balloon basket the man was already in the cradle or seat of the parachute ready to be dropped, but when the seat was tied to the side of the car of the balloon the aeronaut, when he wished to make a descent, first got from the car into the seat, and, casting himself adrift from the car, swung out from under the centre of the balloon so that when he was hanging clear another man in the balloon cut the cords or pulled a slip-knot which set the parachute free. There were different ways of doing this and when a man was by himself he had to get into the sling of the parachute and, on finding himself clear of everything, he would give a tug to a cord which would release a catch holding up the parachute and allow it to drop to earth. The parachute, at the very first, was but a simple affair, being little more than a circular sheet of cotton or similar fabric, but it was very soon found necessary to make it _a bag_ or it would not properly hold the air. Cords were attached at regular intervals all around the edge of this bag, these cords being gathered together and attached to the edge of a basket which carried the man. Sometimes only a sling was used, or a simple light seat after the fashion of the "bosun's chair" upon which a sailor is sometimes hauled to the top of an unclimbable mast, or a steeplejack to the top of a chimney. Thus, when it was dropped, the weight of the man, pulling upon all the cords simultaneously, drew down the edge of the bag, which, catching the air in its fall, acted as a powerful brake and reduced the rate of falling to such an extent that if all went well the man alighted in safety if not comfort. As has already been remarked in another chapter, air, which seems to us sometimes to be so exceedingly light as to have practically no weight at all, really has weight and also the property which we call inertia, by virtue of which things at rest prefer to stay at rest. Now when this open air-bag, of considerable area, is pulled downwards it causes a very considerable disturbance in the air. As it descends the air inside and beneath it is first pushed downwards and compressed a little, then it commences to move outwards, towards the edge, round which it finally escapes to fill the slight vacuum in the space just above the descending parachute. All this the air objects to do because of its inertia. The parachute has to force it to act thus and in that way it uses up some of the force of gravity which all the time is pulling the man earthwards. In other words, that force, instead of dragging the man downwards at such a speed as to dash him to pieces, is so far employed in churning up the air that what is left only brings him down quite slowly and ends with just a gentle bump. That is the scientific explanation of what happens, although expressed in somewhat homely language. To anyone who thinks of this matter it will be clear that a relatively heavy weight like a man, suspended from a parachute, is like a very delicately poised pendulum, and consequently it is not surprising to hear that the early parachutes oscillated very considerably from side to side, so much so, indeed, that this oscillation became a decided danger, for before the proper shape of the air-bag was found out they sometimes skidded and even turned inside out. It was found, however, at quite an early stage that this instability could be to some extent cured by making a hole right in the centre or crown of the parachute through which the air compressed inside could blow upwards in a powerful jet. At first sight it seems as if this would much weaken the parachute and cause it to descend too quickly, but quite a large hole can be safely made, and to make such a hole is only the same thing as slightly reducing the area and that can be easily remedied by slightly increasing the diameter. Reading of this many years ago, I have often been puzzled as to why the presence of the hole should have this steadying effect, the explanation given in the old scientific textbook from which I learnt it being obviously very unsatisfactory. Of recent years, however, this subject of parachutes has been very deeply studied by an eminent engineer of London, Mr. E. R. Calthrop, the inventor of the "Guardian Angel" parachute to which these remarks are leading up, and he has hit upon what is undoubtedly the explanation. He says that the big jet of air shooting upwards through the crown of the parachute forms in effect a rudder which steers the parachute in a straight downward course, just as the rudder guides a boat upon the surface of the water. It is quite possible that thus far the impression conveyed to the reader's mind is that the parachute and its use are very simple, straightforward matters. One may be inclined to think that it is only necessary to get a circular sheet of fabric, to fasten the cords to it, to connect them to a suitable seat and then to descend from any height at any time in perfect safety. If you make a model from a flat sheet of cotton, then one made like a bag, and drop them with little weights attached from the top window of your house you will see what funny things the air can do. After having tried these little ones, you will begin to suspect that the big parachute is full of waywardness: and, as a matter of fact, until recent years, it has been very largely a delusion and a snare. By its refusal to act and open at the right moment it has sacrificed many lives. Although apparently so simple, there were conditions existing and forces at work which for a century or more had never been properly considered and investigated, and it is only now that we have arrived at a parachute whose certainty of action and general trustworthiness entitle it to be called the "lifeboat of the air." The troubles with the older parachutes were two. First, although often it opened quite quickly, and carried its load as perfectly as could be desired, it sometimes had the habit of delaying its opening, and unless the fall were from a very great height it was unsafe to take the risk, indeed, it sometimes refused to open at all, and the poor parachutist suffered a fearful death. It had to be carried in a more or less folded-up state. Often it was hung up by its centre to the side of a balloon, when it was very like a shut-up umbrella. Consequently the power of opening quickly and certainly was of the first importance, and the lack of that power and the uncertainty of its action were a very serious defect. It has always suffered from an ill reputation as to reliability. The second fault lay with the cords. They would persist in getting entangled. Everyone knows how a dozen cords hanging near together will get entangled with each other on the slightest provocation. Such cords if blown about by a strong wind would be much worse even than when still, and if, as must often be the case with parachutes, they be coiled up, we all know from our own experience that some of them would be almost sure to get knotted and tangled together when, in a sudden emergency, the attempt was made to pull them all out of their coils in a second or two. Just picture to yourself what it means: a dozen coiled cords all close together, themselves all coiled up in loops, suddenly pulled. Something awkward appears almost inevitable. And the result of even one rope going awry may be fatal, for it may prevent the parachute opening out fully, probably giving it a "lop-sided" form incapable of gripping the air effectually and consequently allowing the unfortunate man to fall with a velocity which means certain death. This second cause of failure to open, through entanglement of cordage, has happened in a number of cases, with fatal results. So much for the faults of the old primitive parachute. Now let us consider for a moment the urgent need for a parachute which is free from such faults. The man who goes up in a balloon on a Saturday afternoon feels so sure of his "craft" that he thinks he needs no "lifeboat," yet men in ordinary free balloons have been killed for want of them. The spectators at country fairs no longer appreciate a parachute descent as a great and extraordinary spectacle. But in warfare, with kite balloons by the dozen, with dirigible balloons by the score and aeroplanes by the hundred, the call for parachutes is urgent and irresistible. At all events, Mr. Calthrop found an irresistible call to devote years of close study, unceasing toil and considerable sums of money to the task of perfecting an improved parachute which would always open and open quickly, and whose cords would never get entangled. He has the satisfaction of knowing that by so doing he has provided an appliance that in the air is as reliable as a lifeboat is at sea, and that at all times, and from every kind of aircraft, can be depended upon in case of accident to save the lives of gallant airmen who but for his work would be dashed to death. The Great War has taught us to regard life somewhat cheaply. For years we were more concerned with taking life than with saving it, yet surely to save the life of one's own men is equivalent to taking the lives of one's opponents, so that even from the point of view of warfare the saving of life may be a help towards victory. This is particularly so when the lives saved are those of the choicest spirits, and among the most highly trained. It has been reckoned that to make a fully-trained pilot costs as much as £1500, so that to save but a few, even in their preparatory nights on the training-grounds where so many accidents happen, makes quite an appreciable difference in the cost of a war, without considering the main question of the men's lives. Many inventions arise through a man thinking of an idea and then seeking and finding some application for it. Elsewhere in this book, I give examples of such cases. Here we have an instance of the opposite, for Mr. Calthrop found his thoughts strongly directed in this direction by the death of a personal friend, the Hon. C. S. Rolls, one of the early martyrs in the cause of aviation, not to mention others who shared the same risks and in some cases the same fate. His interest thus aroused, he first studied all the records which could be found relating to parachute accidents, so as to ascertain, if possible, what were the causes of failure. Then he commenced a long series of experiments with a view to removing these causes. Improvement after improvement was tried, unexpected difficulties were discovered and grappled with, the kinematograph was called in to record the movements of the falling objects, a task for which it is far better fitted than the human eye, and after years of this there emerged the finished parachute, automatic in its action, perfectly reliable and a true safeguard, which I am about to describe. The parachute's body consists of the finest quality silk carefully cut into gussets of such a shape that when sewn together somewhat after the manner of the cover of an umbrella, they form a shallow bag, parabolic in section, of that particular shape which the material would assume naturally were it perfectly elastic when enclosing its resisting body of compressed air. At intervals round the edge are fastened twenty-four V-shaped tapes. These are only a few feet long and the lower end of each V-shaped pair is attached to a long main tape. There are twelve of these main tapes, and their lower ends unite in a metal disc from which is suspended the sling and harness by which the man is supported. [Illustration: THE "GUARDIAN ANGEL" PARACHUTE. (1) Shows the airman in the harness by which he is attached to the parachute. By means of the star-shaped buckle he can instantly release himself. (2) Shows the parachute two seconds after the airman has jumped from the aeroplane. In (3) he is seen nearing the ground. (_By permission of E. R. Calthrop, Esq._)] So the twenty-four short tapes form twelve V's to the points of which are attached the twelve long tapes which support the man. The reason why tapes are used in this particular parachute and not cords will be referred to later. In the crown of the silk body there is the usual hole for the purpose of forming the air-rudder to steady the parachute in its descent. And now we can consider the first great feature of this wonderful invention and ask ourselves these questions: "By what means is it made to open?" "What makes it more reliable than others?" To answer that we must first see why the others sometimes refused to open. In whatever way an ordinary parachute may be packed it must, when coming into use, assume the state of a shut umbrella with a hole in the top. In this condition it is assumed that as it falls the air will find a way in through the lower end and will blow the parachute open in precisely the same way that a strong wind will sometimes blow out the folds of an umbrella. But, as a matter of fact, the loose folds of a parachute, when the edge of the gussets is gathered in, are sure to overlap and enfold each other more or less. Thus, when in the shut-umbrella state, it sometimes happens that air which is inside can escape upwards through the hole more easily than fresh air can get in from below. The parachute, in such a state, is, let us imagine, falling rapidly through the air. The result is just the same as if it were still and the air were rushing upwards past it. And the upward rush past the top hole tends to _suck air out_ through the hole faster than fresh air can find a way in at the bottom. This is the principle of the ejector, which engineers have put to many uses. For example, the vacuum brakes employed on many large railways owe all their power to stop a train to a vacuum caused by an ejector. There is a short tube or nozzle, placed in the centre of another tube through which steam blows. The action of the steam in the outer tube as it rushes past the end of the inner tube drags after it the air which is in the inner tube so effectively as to produce quite a good vacuum. And in precisely the same way, the upward rush of air past the parachute, or what is just the same, the falling of the parachute through stationary air, can suck the air from inside the latter and create a vacuum in it if the gussets gathered together at the mouth unfortunately overlap one another and are thus locked together by the pressure of the air striving to get in. Thus, instead of the downward fall causing the ordinary parachute to open, as in most cases it will do quite well, the fall under these particular conditions actually binds its folds together and prevents it from opening. It is true this does not often happen, but the risk is _always_ present at every drop, and this unreliability has cost the lives of brave men and women, and the knowledge of this constant risk has led others to write down the parachute a failure, by reason of its known unreliability to open instantly. Even when it does open the depth it falls before it opens is so variable, by reason of the fight between vacuum and pressure, that it may be one hundred feet one time and one thousand feet next time with the same parachute. Now the "Guardian Angel" is designed so that those conditions cannot occur. Its silken covering is first laid out on the ground and into the centre is introduced a beautifully-designed disc of aluminium, somewhat like a large inverted saucer, of exceeding lightness but of ample strength for what it has to do. Then the silk body is pleated and folded back over the upper part of this launching-disc and gradually packed so that it occupies but a very small space upon the upper surface of the disc. It is so folded that its edge comes in the topmost layer and also in such a manner that on the tapes being pulled the silk unfolds easily and regularly, flowing down as it were over the edge of the disc almost as water flows if allowed to fall from a tap upon the centre of an inverted saucer. After the folding is complete another aluminium disc is placed above the packed silk body which shields it from the enormous air pressure when it is being released from an aeroplane flying at top speed. The upper and lower fabric covers are then superimposed and sealed and the "Guardian Angel" parachute is ready for use. The tapes, likewise, are folded up, in a special way upon the bottom cover, which is sprung over the bottom of the disc. The bottom cover with the tapes upon it, is pulled away by the weight of the airman as he makes his jump to safety, and the tapes are so arranged that a pull upon them causes them to draw out steadily and smoothly, almost like water falling from a height. If we regard the silk as forming a shallow bag inverted, we may say that it is folded upon the disc inside out and the function of the disc is to cause it to spread and enclose a wide column of air as it is pulled from its folds. To commence with it is nothing more than so much folded-up silk, but from the first moment of action it becomes a bag with a wide-open mouth, for its open mouth cannot be smaller than the disc. Therefore, from the first instant it begins to grip the air and the ejector action never gets a chance to commence. The pressure of air inside is from the very commencement of the fall greater than that of the surrounding air. Moreover, the disc covers the hole until the parachute is actually open, thereby making ejector action doubly impossible. The widely-opened mouth of the air-bag (I cannot help repeating that term for it is so expressive) swallows up more and more air as the thing falls rapidly, with the result that the air inside is instantly compressed and the increasing pressure as the silk is more and more fully drawn out causes it to expand until the whole is fully extended like a huge umbrella. The instant compression of the enclosed column of air is what causes it _always_ to open automatically. When once it is pointed out it is easy to see what a difference the presence of this disc makes. It is so simple that it cannot fail to act and having once produced that open mouth all the rest is due to the action of natural forces which can be absolutely relied upon. The ordinary parachute with its hopeless irregularities has, in fact, been converted into a machine whose action can _never_ fail. The disc is fastened to the balloon or aeroplane and is left behind when the parachute falls, having done its work. And now let us consider the tapes. As has already been remarked, a series of coiled cords cannot be relied upon to pull out straight without possibility of entanglement, but a tape, if folded to and fro like a Chinese cracker, will invariably do so. So packed tapes have been substituted for coiled corded rigging, with the certainty that they cannot be entangled in the fiercest air current. And now we come to another interesting feature. The man is not suspended directly from the small disc to which the tapes are attached but by a non-spinning sling which contains a shock absorber. This latter consists of a number of strands of rubber and it is owing to its action that the aviator who trusts his life to the parachute suffers little or no shock; even when the instant opening of the parachute begins to arrest his fall. And not only does it save him from shock, but it also avoids the possibility of too great a stress coming suddenly upon the parachute or its rigging of tapes. The aviator himself is attached to the parachute through the shock-absorber sling, by means of a harness which he wears constantly throughout his flight, so that in the event of trouble he only has to jump overboard and the parachute automatically does the rest. This harness consists of two light but strong aluminium tubular rings through which he places his arms, combined with a series of straps which can be so adjusted that the stress of carrying him comes upon those parts of his body best adapted to bear it. This improved parachute is the only one which is capable of being used instantly and without preparation for descent from an aeroplane flying at top speed. It is easy to see that it is one thing to drop from a stationary or nearly stationary balloon and quite another to dive from an aeroplane at one hundred miles per hour. The latter is equivalent to suddenly trusting oneself to a parachute _during the strongest gale_. It has been found, by experiment, however, that high speed is no bar to the use of this parachute since it only causes the parachute to open a little more quickly than usual, which means that it can be used with safety from an even lower height. Under the worst conditions this wonderful parachute can be relied upon always to open and carry its load at a height of only one hundred feet, and its use is safe in all circumstances when dropped from two hundred feet above the ground. After it has once got into operation and taken charge of affairs, so to speak, the man descends at the rate of only fifteen feet per second, which is just about the same as dropping from a height of a little over three feet. In other words, he will arrive on the ground with no worse bump than you would get by jumping off the dining-room table. But suppose that there were a wind blowing: would not the parachute come down in a slanting direction and then drag the man along? Or may he not alight upon a tree or the roof of a house, only to be pulled off again and flung headlong? Quite true he might, were not proper provision made for such occurrences. Embodied in the harness is a lock which can be instantly undone, by a simple movement of a lever in the hand, and by its aid the man on touching earth or on alighting upon anything solid can release himself instantly, after which the parachute can sail away whither it will, but he will be safe and sound. What Mr. Calthrop has accomplished by the invention of his "Guardian Angel" parachute may be summarised briefly by saying that he has reduced the minimum height from which a parachute could be dropped from two thousand to two hundred feet, and that he has made it possible to launch a parachute, with the certainty of safety, from any kind of aircraft flying at the slowest or highest speed of which they are capable. * * * * * You are only a boy now, but when in years to come you are quite old and have grey hair you may become a Member of the Air Board and--who knows--it may become your duty to decide that this great invention shall be always used on the training grounds to save the lives of the young men, not yet born, who are then learning to fly. During the War, one was killed every day, 365 in a year, many of whom might have been saved had more "Guardian Angels" been in use. INDEX Acetone, 36, 57, 58 Acetylene, 58 Aeroplanes, types of, 285, 286 Air-raft equipment, 89 Alcohols, 49, 50, 51, 52, 55, 139 Aluminium, 157 Anchors for floating bridges, 80 Anti-aircraft guns, 119 _Aquitania_, s.s., 197 Armourer, 17 Austrian heavy mortars, 111, 114, 117 Bamboo, bridges made of, 87 Basic steel, 101 Becquerel, H., 40 Benzene, 35 Bessemer, Sir Henry, 93, 98, 99, 100, 102 Blast-furnace, 94, 95 Boilers in warships, 176 Breech-block of guns, 131, 132 "Brennan" torpedo, 219 Calthrop, E. R., 300, 311 Canet, Gustave, 129 Canvas boats, 86 Carbolic acid, 35 Carbon, 28, 50, 94, 98 Carbon in steel, 106 Carbon monoxide, 95 Carriages of guns, 116 Cast iron, 96, 97 Catamaran bridge, 90, 91 Caustic soda, 22, 23, 24 Chloride of lime, 23 Chlorine, 18, 19, 21, 23, 52 Chloroform, 59 Clerk-Maxwell, Professor J., 243 Coal dust explodes, 29 Coal tar, 34 Contact-firing mines, 65 Copper, 147 Cordite, 36 Cotton explosives, 32, 33 Countermining, 63, 73 Crucible steel, 104 Curie, Madame, 41 Detonator, 37 Diastase, 55 Diesel engine, 178, 236 _Dreadnought_, H.M.S., 194 Driving-band on shells, 142 Dynamite, 31 Electricity, positive and negative, 20, 21 Electrodes, 19 Electrolysis of salt, 18, 19 Electrolyte, 19 Electrons, 42 Electroscope, 43 "Elia" mines, 70 Ethane, 51 Ether, 58, 59 Explosion, force of, 30 Field guns, 108, 114 Flotilla leaders, 189 Fractional distillation, 35, 57 French field artillery, 108 Froude, William, 203 Fulminate of mercury, 37 Glycerine, 25 Gravity, action of upon shells, 122, 123, 124 "Guardian Angel" parachute, 300 Gun-cotton, 32, 33 Gunpowder, 27, 30 Gyroscope, uses of, 216, 234 Helium, 42 Hertzian waves, 243 High explosives, 36, 138 High-explosive shells, 137 High-speed steel, 105 Hop-pole bridges, 88 Horse artillery, 108, 114 Howitzers, 111, 114, 115 Hydrostatic valve, 68, 217 Hydroxyl, 52, 53 "Interference" of waves, 241, 248 _Invincible_, H.M.S., 196 Ionogens, 20 Ions of common salt, 19 Iron ore, 93 Kieselguhr, 32 Ladysmith, guns at, 109 Launching a ship, 211 "Limit" gauges, 140 Line-of-battle ships, 191 _Lion_, H.M.S., 197 Lyddite, 35 Machine guns, 115 Magnetic detector, 257 Malt, 55 Marconi, 248 Methane, 51 Methylated spirit, 54 Mine, submarine, 63 _et seq._ Mine, subterranean, 61 Mortars, 111, 112, 113, 114, 118 Naval guns, 112, 120 _et seq._ Naval shells, 136, 137 Nitrate of potassium, 30 Nitro-benzene, 35 Nitro-glycerine, 26, 31, 32 Nitrogen, action of, 26, 30 Observation mines, 65 Oil fuel, 177 _Olympic_, s.s., 197 Organic substances, 26 _Orion_, H.M.S., 193 Parachutes, 297 Paraffins, 51 Periscope, 225, 233 Petrol engine, 181, 182 Phenol, 35 Picric acid, 35 Pig iron, 95, 97 Poison gas, 23 Pontoons for bridging, 77 Propellants, 36, 125, 138 Radio-activity, 41 Radium, 39 _et seq._ Rays from radium, 41, 42 Reeds, bridges made of, 85 _Repulse_, H.M.S., 192 Rheumatism and radium, 47 Rifling in guns, 143 Rolling mills, 98, 139 Salt and explosives, 18 Saltpetre, 27, 29, 30 Scott, Sir Percy, 109 Sea-planes, 287 Shell-steel, 146 Shrapnel shells, 137, 144, 145 Siemens steel, 102, 103 Sights for guns, 133 Smokeless powder, 31 Soap, 25 Sodium, 18, 22 Soluble seal used in mines, 72 Spinning action of shells, 142 Stability of aeroplanes, 293 Steam-engines, 170 Steel for guns, 126 Sulphuric acid, 31, 32, 150 Suspension bridges, 83 "Tanks," 276 Telephone used in telegraphy, 266 Tin, 152, 153 T.N.T., 35 Toluene, 35 Torpedo boats, 184 Trajectory, 122 Trench mortars, 118 Trestle bridges, 80, 83 Tri-nitro-benzene, 35 Tri-nitro-phenol, 35 Tri-nitro-toluene, 35 Tungsten, 105, 153 "Tuning" wireless telegraph apparatus, 255 Turbine, steam, 17 Uranium, 41 "Whitehead" torpedo, 215 Wire-wound guns, 128 Wolfram, 153 Wood spirit, 57 Wrought iron, 97 _Wyoming_, U.S. battleship, 195 X-rays, 42, 43 Zeppelin _v._ aeroplane, 46 Zinc, 149, 150, 151 PRINTED BY WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD., PLYMOUTH, ENGLAND. 1917 _Great Classics for Little Children_ THE CHILDREN'S ODYSSEY TOLD FOR LITTLE CHILDREN BY PROF. 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THE WONDERS OF MODERN ENGINEERING. By ARCHIBALD WILLIAMS, B.A. (Oxon.) THE WONDERS OF BIRD LIFE. By JOHN LEA, M.A. * * * * * WRIGHT, SIDNEY. THE ROMANCE OF THE WORLD'S FISHERIES. With many Illustrations. Extra crown 8vo, 5s. YOUNG, ERNEST. ADVENTURES AMONG TRAPPERS AND HUNTERS. With Sixteen Illustrations. Ex. crown 8vo, 5s. * * * * * Transcriber's note: The following changes have been made to the text: Page 3: added missingopen quotation mark: ("=It is no exaggeration to say that Commander Currey bears worthily the mantle of Kingston and Captain Marryat.=") Page 3: added missing open quotation mark ("By writing this series the author is doing national service, ...") Page 66: added missing word "on" (Needless to say, that ship went on no more excursions.) Page 77: changed "bridginv" to "bridging" ( ... certain engineering "field companies," and "bridging trains," ...) Page 147: changed "Chili" to "Chile" ( ... notably in the United States, Chile and Spain.) Page 156: changed "alumimium" to "aluminium" (Alumina, too, is oxide of aluminium.) Page 187: changed comma to period at end of sentence (... if the mild steel ordinarily employed for shipbuilding were used.) Page 188: Deleted spurious comma following "experience" (... as experience shows, a very considerable degree of safety.) Page 236: changed "nutil" to "until" ( ... which is stored in large accumulator batteries until required ...) Page 237: added missing period ( ... by long spells of duty in this unhealthy atmosphere.) Page 307: changed "aliminium" to "aluminium" ( ... another aluminium disc ...)