[Footnote 1: GUERRES MARITIMES, Vol. II, p. 43.]

Upon Nelson's return to England, popular clamor practically forced his appointment to command the Channel defense flotilla against the French armies which were now once more concentrated on the northern coast. This service lasted for only a brief period until the signing of peace preliminaries in October, 1801.

During the eight years of hostilities thus ended Great Britain, it is true, had been fighting largely on the defensive, but on a line of defense carried to the enemy's sea frontiers and comparable to siege lines about a city or fortress, which, when once established, thrust upon the enemy the problem of breaking through. The efforts of France to pierce this barrier, exerted in various directions and by various means, were, as we have seen, defeated by naval engagements, which insured to England the control of the sea. During this period, France lost altogether 55 ships-of-the-line, Holland 18, Spain 10, and Denmark 2, a total of 85, of which at least 50 were captured by the enemy. Great Britain lost 20, but only 5 by capture. The British battle fleet at the close of hostilities had increased to 189 capital ships; that of France had shrunk to 45.

For purposes of commerce warfare the French navy had suffered the withdrawal of many of its smaller fighting vessels and large numbers of its best seamen, attracted into privateering by the better promise of profit and adventure. As a result of this warfare, about 3500 British merchantmen were destroyed, an average of 500 a year, representing an annual loss of 2-1/2 per cent of all the ships of British register. But in the meantime the French merchant marine and commerce had been literally swept off the seas. In 1799 the Directory admitted there was "not a single merchant ship on the seas carrying the French flag." French imports from Asia, Africa, and America in 1800 amounted to only $300,000, and exports to $56,000, whereas England's total export and import trade had nearly doubled, from 44-1/2 million pounds sterling in 1792 to nearly 78 million in 1800. It is true that, owing to the exigencies of war, the amount of British shipping employed in this trade actually fell off slightly, and that of neutrals increased from 13 to 34%. But the profits went chiefly to British merchants. England had become the great storehouse and carrier for the Continent, "Commerce," in the phrase engraved on the elder Pitt's monument, "being united with and made to flourish by war."[1]

[Footnote 1: Figures on naval losses from Graviere, GUERRES MARITIMES, Vol. II, ch. VII, and on commerce, from Mahan, FRENCH REVOLUTION AND EMPIRE, Vol. II, ch. XVII.]

REFERENCES

See end of Chapter XIII, page 285.



CHAPTER XIII

THE NAPOLEONIC WAR [Concluded]: TRAFALGAR AND AFTER

The peace finally ratified at Amiens in March, 1802, failed to accomplish any of the purposes for which England had entered the war. France not only maintained her frontiers on the Scheldt and the Rhine, but still exercised a predominant influence in Holland and western Italy, and excluded British trade from territories under her control. Until French troops were withdrawn from Holland, as called for by the treaty, England refused to evacuate Malta. Bonaparte, who wished further breathing space to build up the French navy, tried vainly to postpone hostilities by threatening to invade England and exclude her from all continental markets. "It will be England," he declared, "that forces us to conquer Europe." The war reopened in May of 1803.

With no immediate danger on the Continent and with all the resources of a regenerated France at his command, Bonaparte now undertook the project of a descent upon England on such a scale as never before. Hazardous as he always realized the operation to be—it was a thousand to one chance, he told the British envoys, that he and his army would end at the bottom of the sea—he was definitely committed to it by his own threats and by the expectation of France that he would now annihilate her hereditary foe.

Napoleon's Plan of Invasion

An army of 130,000 men, with 400 guns and 20 days' supplies, was to embark from four ports close to Boulogne as a center, and cross the 36 miles of Channel to a favorable stretch of coast between Dover and Hastings, distant from London some 70 miles. The transport flotilla, as finally planned, was to consist of 2000 or more small flat-bottomed sailing vessels with auxiliary oar propulsion-chaloupes and bateaux canonnieres, from 60 to 80 feet over all, not over 8 feet in draft, with from two to four guns and a capacity for 100 to 150 men. Large open boats (peniches) were also to be used, and all available coast craft for transport of horses and supplies. Shipyards from the Scheldt to the Gironde were soon busy building the special flotilla, and as fast as they were finished they skirted the shores to the points of concentration under protection of coast batteries. Extensive harbor and defense works were undertaken at Boulogne and neighboring ports, and the 120 miles from the Scheldt to the Somme was soon bristling with artillery, in General Marmont's phrase, "a coast of iron and bronze."

The impression was spread abroad that the crossing was to be effected by stealth, in calm, fog, or the darkness of a long winter night, without the protection of a fleet. Almost from the first, however, Bonaparte seems to have had no such intention. The armament of the flotilla itself proved of slight value, and he was resolved to take no uncalled-for risks, on an unfamiliar element, with 100,000 men. An essential condition, which greatly complicated the whole undertaking, became the concentration of naval forces in the Channel sufficient to secure temporary control. "Let us be masters of the Strait for 6 hours," Napoleon wrote to Latouche-Treville in command of the Toulon fleet, "and we shall be masters of the world." In less rhetorical moments he extended the necessary period to from two to fifteen days.

Up to the spring of 1804 neither army nor flotilla was fully ready, and thereafter the crossing was always definitely conditioned upon a naval concentration. But the whole plan called for swift execution. As time lapsed, difficulties multiplied. Harbors silted up, transports were wrecked by storms, British defense measures on land and sea grew more formidable, the Continental situation became more threatening. The Boulogne army thus became more and more—what Napoleon perhaps falsely declared later it had always been—an army concentrated against Austria. To get a fleet into the Channel without a battle was almost impossible, and once in, its position would be dangerous in the extreme. Towards the end, in the opinion of the French student Colonel Desbriere, Napoleon's chief motive in pressing for fleet cooperation was the belief that it would lead to a decisive naval action which, though a defeat, would shift from his own head the odium of failure.

Whether this theory is fully accepted or not, the fact remains that the only sure way of conquering England was by a naval contest. Her first and main defense was the British fleet, which, spread out to the limits of safety to watch French ships wherever harbored, guarded not only against a concentration in the Channel, but against incursions into other fields. The immediate defense of the coasts was intrusted to flotillas of armed boats, over 700 in all, distributed along the coast from Leith south-about to Glasgow, with 100 on the coast of Ireland. Naval men looked upon these as of slight value, a concession, according to Earl St. Vincent, to "the old women in and out" (of both sexes) at home. The distribution of the main battle squadrons varied, but in March, 1805, at the opening of the Trafalgar campaign they were stationed as follows: Boulogne and the Dutch forces were watched by Admiral Keith with 11 of the line and 150 smaller units scattered from the Texel to the Channel Islands. The 21 French ships under Ganteaume at Brest, the strategic center, were closely blockaded by Cornwallis, whose force, by Admiralty orders, was not to fall below 18 of the line. A small squadron had been watching Missiessy's 5 ships at Rochefort and upon his escape in January had followed him to the West Indies. The 5 French and 10 Spanish at Ferrol and the 6 or more ready for sea at Cadiz were held in check by forces barely adequate. In the Gulf of Lyons Nelson with 13 ships had since May, 1803, stood outside the distant but dangerous station of Toulon. Owing to the remoteness from bases, a close and constant blockade was here impossible; moreover, it was the policy to let the enemy get out in the hope of bringing him to action at sea.



To effect a concentration in the Channel in the face of these obstacles was the final aim of all Napoleon's varied naval combinations of 1804 and 1805—combinations which impress one with the truth of Graviere's criticism that the Emperor lacked "le sentiment exact des difficultes de la marine," and especially, one should perhaps add, de la marine francaise. The first plan, the simplest and, therefore, most promising, was that Latouche Treville with the Toulon fleet should evade Nelson and, after releasing ships on the way, enter the Channel with 16 of the line, while Cornwallis was kept occupied by Ganteaume. This was upset by the death of Latouche, France's ablest and most energetic admiral, in August of 1804, and by the accession, two months later, of Spain and the Spanish navy to the French cause. After many misgivings Napoleon chose Villeneuve to succeed at Toulon. Skilled in his profession, honest, and devoted, he was fatally lacking in self-confidence and energy to conquer difficulties. "It is sad," wrote an officer in the fleet, "to see that force which under Latouche was full of activity, now without faith in either their leader or themselves."

The final plan, though still subject to modifications, was for a concentration on a larger scale in the West Indies. Villeneuve was to go thither, picking up the Cadiz ships on the way, join the Rochefort squadron if it were still there, and wait 40 days for the Brest fleet. Upon its arrival the entire force of 40 ships was to move swiftly back to the Channel. It was assumed that the British squadrons, in alarm for the colonies, would in the meantime be scattered in pursuit.

The Pursuit of Villeneuve

Villeneuve put to sea in a rising gale on January 17, 1805, but was soon back in port with damaged ships, the only effect being to send Nelson clear to Egypt in search of him. A successful start was made on March 30. Refusing to wait for 5 Spanish vessels at Carthagena, Villeneuve with 11 sail reached Cadiz on April 9, picked up one French vessel and two Spanish under Admiral Gravina, and leaving 4 more to follow was off safely on the same night for the West Indies.

From Gibraltar to the Admiralty in London, Villeneuve's appearance in the Atlantic created a profound stir. His departure from Cadiz was known, but not whither he had gone. The five ships on the Cadiz blockade fell back at once to the Channel. A fast frigate from Gibraltar carried the warning to Calder off Ferrol and to the Brest blockade, whence it reached London on April 25. A convoy for Malta and Sicily with 6000 troops under Gen. Craig—a pledge which Russia called for before sending her own forces to southern Italy—was already a week on its way and might fall an easy victim. In consequence of an upheaval at the Admiralty, Lord Barham, a former naval officer now nearly 80 years of age, had just begun his memorable 9 months' administration as First Lord of the Admiralty and director of the naval war. Immediately a whole series of orders went out to the fleets to insure the safety of the troop ships, the maintenance of the Ferrol blockade, an eventual strengthening of forces outside the Channel, and the safety of the Antilles in case Villeneuve had gone there.

Where was Nelson? His scout frigates by bad judgment had lost Villeneuve on the night of March 31 east of Minorca, with no clue to his future course. Nelson took station between Sardinia and the African coast, resolved not to move till he "knew something positive." In the absence of information, the safety of Naples, Sicily, and Egypt was perhaps not merely an obsession on his part, but a proper professional concern; but it is strange that no inkling should have reached him from the Admiralty or elsewhere that a western movement from Toulon was the only one Napoleon now had in mind. It was April 18 before he received further news of the enemy, and not until May 5 was he able to get up to and through the Straits against steady head winds; even then he could not, as he said, "run to the West Indies without something beyond mere surmise." Definite reports from Cadiz that the enemy had gone thither reached him through an Admiral Campbell in the Portuguese service, and were confirmed by the fact that they had been seen nowhere to northward. On the 12th, leaving the Royal Sovereign (100) to strengthen the escort of Craig's convoy, which had now appeared, he set out westward with 10 ships in pursuit of the enemy's 18.

He reached Barbados on June 4, only 21 days after Villeneuve's arrival at Martinique. The latter had found that the Rochefort squadron—as a result of faulty transmission of Napoleon's innumerable orders—was already back in Europe, and that the Brest squadron had not come. In fact, held tight in the grip of Cornwallis, it was destined never to leave port. But a reenforcement of 2 ships had reached Villeneuve with orders to wait 35 days longer and in the meantime to harry the British colonies. Disgruntled and despondent, he had scarcely got troops aboard and started north on this mission when he learned that Nelson was hot on his trail. The troops were hastily thrown into frigates to protect the French colonies. Without other provision for their safety, and in disregard of orders, Villeneuve at once turned back for Europe, hoping the Emperor's schemes would still be set forward by his joining the ships at Ferrol.

Nelson followed four days later, on June 13, steering for his old post in the Mediterranean, but at the same time despatching the fast brig Curieux to England with news of the French fleet's return. This vessel by great good fortune sighted Villeneuve in mid-ocean, inferred from his northerly position that he was bound for Ferrol, and reached Portsmouth on July 8. Barham at the Admiralty got the news the next morning, angry that he had not been routed out of bed on the arrival of the captain the night before. By 9 o'clock the same morning, orders were off to Calder on the Ferrol station in time so that on the 22d of July he encountered the enemy, still plowing slowly eastward, some 300 miles west of Cape Finisterre.

As a result of admirable communication work and swift administrative action the critic of Nelson at Cape St. Vincent now had a chance to rob the latter of his last victory and end the campaign then and there. His forces were adequate. Though he had only 14 ships to 20, his four three-deckers, according to the estimates of the time, were each worth two of the enemy 74's, and on the other hand, the 6 Spanish ships with Villeneuve could hardly be counted for more than three. In the ensuing action, fought in foggy weather, two of the Spanish were captured and one of Calder's three-deckers was so injured that it had to be detached. The two fleets remained in contact for three days following, but neither took the aggressive. In a subsequent court martial Calder was reprimanded for "not having done his utmost to renew the said engagement and destroy every ship of the enemy."



On July 27 the Allied fleet staggered into Vigo, and a week later, after dropping three ships and 1200 sick men, it moved around to Corunna and Ferrol. Instead of being shaken down and strengthened by the long cruise, it was, according to the commander's plaintive letters, in worse plight than when it left Toulon. Nevertheless, ten days later he was ready to leave port, with 29 units, 14 of them raw vessels from Ferrol, and 11 of them Spanish. If, as Napoleon said, France was not going to give up having a navy, something might still be done. His orders to Villeneuve were to proceed to Brest and thence to Boulogne. "I count," he ended, "on your zeal in my service, your love of your country, and your hatred of that nation which has oppressed us for 40 generations, and which a little preseverance on your part will now cause to reenter forever the ranks of petty powers."[1]

[Footnote 1: Orders of 26 July, Desbriere, PROJETS, Vol. V, p. 672.]

Such were Villeneuve's instructions, the wisdom or sincerity of which it was scarcely his privilege to question (though it may be ours). In passing judgment on his failure to execute them it should be remembered that two months later, to avoid the personal disgrace of being superseded, he took his fleet out to more certain disaster than that which it now faced in striking northward from Corunna. "Un poltron du tete et non de la coeur"[2] the French Admiral was handicapped throughout by a paralyzing sense of the things he could not do.

[Footnote 2: Graviere II, 136.]

If he had sailer northward he would have found the British fleet divided. Nelson, it is true, after returning to Cadiz had fallen back from Gibraltar to the Channel, where he left his eleven ships with the Brest squadron in remarkable condition after more than two years at sea. Calder had also joined, bringing Cornwallis' total strength to 39. These stood between the 21 French at Brest and the 29 at Ferrol. But on August 16 Cornwallis divided his forces, keeping 18 (including 10 three-deckers) and sending Calder back to the Spanish coast with the rest. Napoleon called this a disgraceful blunder (insigne betise), and Mahan adds, "This censure was just." Sir Julian Corbeh says it was a "master stroke... in all the campaign there is no movement—not even Nelson's chase of Villeneuve—that breathes more deeply the true spirit of war." According to Napoleon, Villeneuve might have "played prisoners' base with Calder's squadron and fallen upon Cornwallis, or with his 30 of the line have beaten Calder's 20 and obtained a decisive superiority."

So perhaps a Napoleonic admiral. Villeneuve left Ferrol on August 13 and sailed northwest on a heavy northeast wind till the 15th. Then, his fixed purpose merely strengthened by false news from a Danish merchantman of 25 British in the vicinity, he turned before the wind for Cadiz. As soon as he was safely inside, the British blockaders again closed around the port.

The Battle of Trafalgar

After twenty-five days in England, Nelson took command off Cadiz on September 28, eager for a final blow that would free England for aggressive war. There was talk of using bomb vessels, Congreve's rockets, and Francis's (Robert Fulton's) torpedoes to destroy the enemy in harbor, but it soon became known that Villeneuve would be forced to put to sea. On October 9, Nelson issued the famous Memorandum, or battle plan, embodying what he called "the Nelson touch," and received by his captains with an enthusiasm which the inspiration of the famous leader no doubt partly explains. This plan, which had been formulating itself in Nelson's mind as far back as the pursuit of the French fleet to the West Indies, may be regarded as the product of his ripest experience and genius; the praise is perhaps not extravagant that "it seems to gather up and coordinate every tactical principle that has ever proved effective."[1]

[Footnote 1: Corbett. THE CAMPAIGN OF TRAFALGAR, p. 349.]



Though the full text of the Memorandum will repay careful study, its leading principles may be sufficiently indicated by summary. Assuming 40 British ships to 46 of the enemy (the proportions though not the numbers of the actual engagement), it provides first that "the order of sailing is to be the order of battle, placing the fleet in two lines of 16 ships each, with an advanced squadron of 8 of the fastest sailing two-decked ships." This made for speed and ease in maneuvering, and was based on the expressed belief that so many units could not be formed and controlled in the old-fashioned single line without fatal loss of time. The ships would now come into action practically in cruising formation, which was commonly in two columns. The only noteworthy change contemplated was that the flagships of the first and second in command should shift from first to third place in their respective columns, and even this change was not carried out. Perhaps because the total force was smaller than anticipated, the advance squadron was merged with the two main divisions on the night before the battle, and need not be further regarded. Collingwood, the second in command, was given freedom of initiative by the provision that "after my intentions are made known to him he will have entire direction of his line."

The plan next provides, first for attack from to leeward, and second for attack from to windward. In either case, Collingwood's division was to bring a superior force to bear on 12 ships of the enemy rear, while Nelson would "cut two, three or four ships ahead of their center so far as to ensure getting at their commander in chief." "Something must be left to chance... but I look with confidence to a victory before the van of the enemy can succor their rear." And further, "no captain can do very wrong if he places his ship alongside that of an enemy."

Of the attack from the windward a very rough diagram is given, thus:



But aside from this diagram, the lines of which are not precisely straight or parallel in the original, and which can hardly be reconciled with the instructions in the text, there is no clear indication that the attack from the windward (as in the actual battle) was to be delivered in line abreast. What the text says is: "The divisions of the British fleet will be brought nearly within gunshot of the enemy's center. The signal will most probably then be given for the lee line to bear up together, to set all their sails, even steering sails, in order to get as quickly as possible to the enemy's line and to cut through." Thus, if we assume a convergent approach in column, there was to be no slow deployment of the rear or leeward division into line abreast to make the attack of all its ships simultaneous; rather, in the words of a captain describing what really happened, they were simply to "scramble into action" at best speed. Nor is there any suggestion of a preliminary shift from line ahead in the case of Nelson's division. Though endless controversy has raged over the point, the prescribed approach seems to have been followed fairly closely in the battle.

The concentration upon the rear was not new; in fact, it had become almost conventional, and was fully anticipated by the enemy. More originality lay in the manner of "containing" the center and van. For this purpose, in the first place, the approach was to be at utmost speed, not under "battle canvas" but with all sail spread. In the second place, the advance of Nelson's division in column, led by the flagship, left its precise objective not fully disclosed to the enemy until the last moment, and open to change as advantage offered. It could and did threaten the van, and was finally directed upon the center when Villeneuve's presence there was revealed. Finally, the very serious danger of enemy concentration upon the head of the column was mitigated not only by the speed of the approach, but by the concentration there of three heavy three-deckers. The plan in general had in view a particular enemy, superior in numbers but weak in gunnery, slow in maneuver, and likely to avoid decisive action. It aimed primarily at rapidity of movement, but combined also the merits of concentration, simplicity, flexibility, and surprise.

In this discussion of the scheme of the battle, around which interest chiefly centers, the actual events of the engagement have been in some measure anticipated, and may now be told more briefly. Driven to desperation by the goadings of Napoleon and the news that Admiral Rosily was approaching to supersede him, Villeneuve at last resolved to put to sea. "The intention of His Majesty," so the Minister of Marine had written, "is to seek in the ranks, wherever they may be found, officers best suited for superior command, requiring above all a noble ambition, love of glory, decision of character, and unbounded courage. His Majesty wishes to destroy that circumspection which is the reproach of the navy; that defensive system which paralyzes our fleet and doubles the enemy's. He counts the loss of vessels nothing if lost with honor; he does not wish his fleet blockaded by an enemy inferior in strength; and if that is the situation at Cadiz he advises and orders you to attack."

The Allied fleet worked out of Cadiz on the 19th of October and on the 20th tacked southward under squally westerly winds. On the 21st, the day of the battle, the wind was still from the west, light and flawy, with a heavy swell and signs of approaching storm. At dawn the two fleets were visible to each other, Villeneuve about 9 miles northeast and to leeward of the British and standing southward from Cape Trafalgar. The French Admiral had formed his main battle line of 21 ships, French and Spanish intermingled, with the Santisima Trinidad (128) in the center and his flagship Bucentaure next; the remaining 12 under the Spanish Admiral Gravina constituted a separate squadron stationed to windward to counter an enemy concentration, which was especially expected upon the rear.

As the British advance already appeared to threaten this end of their line, the Allied fleet wore together about 9 o'clock, thus reversing their order, shifting their course northward, and opening Cadiz as a refuge. The maneuver, not completed until an hour later, left their line bowed in at the center, with a number of ships slightly to leeward, while Gravina's squadron mingled with and prolonged the rear in the new order.



The change, though it aroused Nelson's fear lest his quarry should escape, facilitated his attack as planned, by exposing the enemy rear to Collingwood's division. As rapidly as the light airs permitted, the two British columns bore down, Nelson in the Victory (100) leading the windward division of 12 ships, closely followed by the heavy Neptune and Temeraire, while Collingwood in the freshly coppered and refitted Royal Sovereign set a sharp pace for the 15 sail to leeward. Of the forty ships Nelson had once counted on, some had not come from England, and a half dozen others were inside the straits for water. While the enemy were changing course, Collingwood had signaled his division to shift into a line of bearing, an order which, though rendered almost ineffective by his failure to slow down, served to throw the column off slightly and bring it more nearly parallel to the enemy rear. (See plan.) Both commanders clung to the lead and pushed ahead as if racing into the fray, thus effectually preventing deployment and leaving trailers far behind. Nelson went so far as to try to jockey his old friend out of first place by ordering the Mars to pass him, but Collingwood set his studding sails and kept his lead. Possibly it was then he made the remark that he wished Nelson would make no more signals, as they all knew what they had to do, rather than after Nelson's famous final message: "England expects that every man will do his duty."

Nelson, uncertain of Villeneuve's place in the line and anxious to prevent escape northward, steered for a gap ahead of the Santisima Trinidad, as if to threaten the van. But at 12:00 noon, as the first shots were fired at the Royal Sovereign, flags were broken from all ships, and Villeneuve's location revealed. Swinging to southward under heavy fire, the Victory passed under the stern of the Bucentaure and then crashed into the Redoutable, which had pushed close up to the flagship. The relative effectiveness of the gunnery in the two fleets is suggested by the fact that the Victory while coming in under the enemy's concentrated fire had only 50 killed and wounded, whereas the raking broadside she finally poured into the Bucentaure's stern is said to have swept down 400 men. Almost simultaneously with the leader, the Temeraire and Neptune plunged into the line, the former closing with the Bucentaure and the latter with the Santisima Trinidad ahead. Other ships soon thrust into the terrific artillery combat which centered around the leaders in a confused mingling of friend and foe.

At about 12:10, nearly half an hour before the Victory penetrated the Allied line, the Royal Sovereign brought up on the leeward side of the Santa Ana, flagship of the Spanish Admiral Alava, after raking both her and the Fougueux astern. The Santa Ana was thirteenth in the actual line, but, as Collingwood knew, there were 16, counting those to leeward, among the ships he had thus cut off for his division to subdue. As a combined effect of the light breeze and the manner of attack, it was an hour or more before the action was made general by the advent of British ships in the rear. All these suffered as they closed, but far less than those near the head of the line. Of the total British casualties fully a third fell upon the four leading ships—Victory, Temeraire, Royal Sovereign and Belleisle.

Not until about three o'clock were the shattered but victorious British in the center threatened by the return of the ten ships in the Allied van. Culpably slow, however hindered by lack of wind, several of these joined stragglers from Gravina's division to leeward; the Intrepide, under her brave skipper Infernet, set an example all might well have followed by steering straight for the Bucentaure, and surrendered only to overwhelming odds; five others under Rear Admiral Dumanoir skirted to windward and escaped with the loss of one of their number, cut off by two British late-comers, Spartiate and Minotaur.

"Partial firing continued until 4:30, when a victory having been reported to the Right Honorable Lord Viscount Nelson, he died of his wound." So reads the Victory's log. The flagship had been in deadly grapple with the Redoutable, whose complement, like that of many another French and Spanish ship in the action, showed that the decadence of their navies was not due to lack of fighting spirit in the rank and file. Nelson was mortally wounded by a musket shot from the mizzen-top soon after the ships closed. In his hour of supreme achievement death came not ungraciously, giving final assurance of the glory which no man ever faced death more eagerly to win.

Of the Allied fleet, four fled with Dumanoir, but were later engaged and captured by a British squadron near Corunna. Eleven badly battered survivors escaped into Cadiz. Of the 18 captured, 11 were wrecked or destroyed in the gales that swept the coast for several days after the battle; three were recaptured or turned back to their crews by the prize-masters, and only four eventually reached Gibraltar.



The Trafalgar victory did not indeed reduce France to terms, and it thus illustrates the limitations of naval power against an enemy not primarily dependent upon the sea. But it freed England from further threat of invasion, clinched her naval predominance, and opened to her the prospect of taking a more aggressive part in the land war. Even this prospect was soon temporarily thrust into the background. On the very day of Trafalgar Napoleon's bulletins announced the surrender of 60,000 Austrians at Ulm, and the Battle of Austerlitz a month later crushed the Third Coalition. The small British contingents in Germany and southern Italy hastened back to their transports. It was only later, when France was approaching exhaustion, that British forces in the Spanish peninsula and elsewhere took a conspicuous part in the Continental war.

The Continental System

England's real offensive strength lay not in her armies but in her grip on Europe's intercourse with the rest of the world. And on the other hand, the only blow that Napoleon could still strike at his chief enemy was to shut her from the markets of Europe—to "defeat the sea by the land." This was the aim of his Continental System. It meant a test of endurance—whether he could force France and the rest of Europe to undergo the tremendous strain of commercial isolation for a sufficient period to reduce England to ruin.

The Continental System came into being with Napoleon's famous Berlin Decree of November, 1806, which, declaring a "paper" blockade of the British Isles, put all trade with England under the ban. Under this decree and later supplementary measures, goods of British origin, whatever their subsequent ownership, were confiscated or destroyed wherever French agents could lay hands on them; and neutral vessels were seized and condemned for entering British ports, accepting British convoy, or even submitting to British search.

England's chief retaliatory measure was the Orders in Council of November, 1807. Her object in these orders and later modifications was not to cut off trade with the Continent, but to control it to her own profit and the injury of the enemy—in short, "no trade except through England." The orders aimed to compel the aid of neutrals by excluding neutral ships from the Continent unless they should first enter British ports, pay British dues, and (as would be an inevitable consequence) give covert assistance in carrying on British trade.

The Continental System reached its greatest efficiency during the apogee of Napoleon's power in 1809 and 1810. To check forbidden traffic, which continued on an enormous scale, he annexed Holland to his empire, and threw a triple cordon of French troops along Germany's sea frontier. As a result, in the critical year of 1811 goods piled up in British warehouses, factories closed, bankruptcies doubled, and her financial system tottered.[1] But to bar the tide of commerce at every port from Trieste to Riga was like trying to stem the sea. At each leak in the barrier, sugar, coffee, and British manufactures poured in, and were paid for at triple or tenfold prices, not in exports, but in coin. Malta, the Channel Islands, and Heligoland (seized by England from Denmark in 1807) became centers of smuggling. The beginning of the end came when the Czar, tired of French dictation and a policy ruinous to his country, opened his ports, first to colonial products (December, 1810), and a year later to all British wares. Six hundred vessels, brought under British convoy into the Baltic, docked at Libau, and caravans of wagons filled the roads leading east and south.

[Footnote 1: In spite of this crisis, British trade showed progressive increase in each half decade from 1800 to 1815, and did not fall off again until the five years after the war. The figures (in millions of pounds sterling) follow: 1801-05, 61 million; 1806-10, 67 million; 1811-15, 74 million; 1816-20, 60 million.—Day, HISTORY OF COMMERCE, p. 355.]

In June of 1812 Napoleon gathered his "army of twenty nations" for the fatal Russian campaign. Now that they had served their purpose, England on June 23 revoked her Orders in Council. The Continental System had failed.

The War of 1812

In the same month, on June 18, the United States declared war on Great Britain. Up to 1807 her commerce and shipping, in the words of President Monroe, had "flourished beyond example," as shown by the single fact that her re-export trade (in West Indies products) was greater in that year than ever again until 1915.[1] Later they had suffered from the coercion of both belligerents, and from her own futile countermeasures of embargo and non-intercourse. Her final declaration came tardily, if not indeed unwisely as a matter of practical policy, however abundantly justified by England's commercial restrictions and her seizure of American as well as British seamen on American ships. An additional motive, which had decisive weight with the dominant western faction in Congress, was the hope of gaining Canada or at least extending the northern frontier.

[Footnote 1: United States exports rose from a value of 56 million dollars in 1803 to 108 million in 1807; then fell to 22 million in 1808, and after rising to about 50 million before the war, went down to 6 million in 1814.—Ibid., p 480.]

A subordinate episode in the world conflict, the War of 1812 cannot be neglected in naval annals. The tiny American navy retrieved the failures of American land forces, and shook the British navy out of a notorious slackness in gunnery and discipline engendered by its easy victories against France and Spain.

In size the British Navy in 1812 was more formidable than at any earlier period of the general war. Transport work with expeditionary forces, blockade and patrol in European waters, and commerce protection from the China Sea to the Baltic had in September, 1812, increased the fleet to 686 vessels in active service, including 120 of the line and 145 frigates. There were 75 in all on American stations, against the total American Navy of 16, of which the best were the fine 44-gun frigates Constitution, President and United States. In the face of such odds, and especially as England's European preoccupations relaxed, the result was inevitable. After the first year of war, while a swarm of privateers and smaller war vessels still took heavy toll of British commerce, the frigates were blockaded in American ports and American commerce was destroyed.

But before the blockade closed down, four frigate actions had been fought, three of them American victories. In each instance, as will be seen from the accompanying table, the advantage in weight of broadside was with the victor. The American frigates were in fact triumphs of American shipbuilding, finer in lines, more strongly timbered, and more heavily gunned than British ships of their class. But that good gunnery and seamanship figured in the results is borne out by the fact that of the eight sloop actions fought during the war, with a closer approach to equality of strength, seven were American victories. The British carronades that had pounded French ships at close range proved useless against opponents that knew how to choose and hold their distance and could shoot straight with long 24'S.

- Wt. of Casu- Ship[1] Commander Guns broad- Crew alties Place and date side - Constitution[2] Hull 54 684 456 14 750 miles east of Boston, Aug. 19, Guerriere (Brit.) Dacres 49 556 272 79 1812. - United States[2] Decatur 54 786 478 12 Off Canary Islands, Macedonian (Brit.) Carden 49 547 301 104 Oct. 25. 1812. - Constitution[2] Bainbridge 52 654 475 34 Near Bahia, Dec. Java (Brit.) Lambert 49 576 426 150 29, 1812. - Chesapeake Lawrence 50 542 379 148 Off Boston, June 1, Shannon (Brit.)[2] Broke 52 550 330 83 1813. -

[Footnote 1: The figures are from Roosevelt's NAVAL WAR OF 1812, in which 7% is deducted for the short weight of American shot.]

[Footnote 2: Victorious.]

"It seems," said a writer in the London Times, "that the Americans have some superior mode of firing." But when Broke with his crack crew in the Shannon beat the Chesapeake fresh out of port, he demonstrated, as had the Americans in other actions, that the superiority was primarily a matter of training and skill.

On the Great Lakes America's naval efforts should have centered, for here was her main objective and here she was on equal terms. Both sides were tremendously hampered in communications with their main sources of supply. But with an approach from the sea to Montreal, the British faced no more serious obstacle in the rapids of the St. Lawrence above than did the Americans on the long route up the Mohawk, over portages into Oneida Lake, and thence down the Oswego to Ontario, or else from eastern Pennsylvania over the mountains to Lake Erie. The wilderness waterways on both sides soon saw the strange spectacle of immense anchors, cables, cannon, and ship tackle of all kinds, as well as armies of sailors, shipwrights, and riggers, making their way to the new rival bases at Sackett's Harbor and Kingston, both near the foot of Lake Ontario.

Of the whole lake and river frontier, Ontario was of the most vital importance. A decisive American victory here, including the capture of Kingston, would cut enemy communications and settle the control of all western Canada. Kingston as an objective had the advantage over Montreal that it was beyond the direct reach of the British navy. The British, fully realizing the situation, made every effort to build up their naval forces on this lake, and gave Commodore Yeo, who was in command, strict orders to avoid action unless certain of success. On the other hand, the American commander, Chauncey, though an energetic organizer, made the mistake of assuming that his mission was also defensive. Hence when one fleet was strengthened by a new ship it went out and chased the other off the lake, but there was little fighting, both sides engaging in a grand shipbuilding rivalry and playing for a sure thing. Naval control remained unsettled and shifting throughout the war. It was fortunate, indeed, says the British historian, James, that the war ended when it did, or there would not have been room on the lake to maneuver the two fleets. The St. Lawrence, a 112-gun three-decker completed at Kingston in 1814, was at the time the largest man-of-war in the world.

Possibly a growing lukewarmness about the war, manifested on both sides, prevented more aggressive action. But it did not prevent two brilliant American victories in the lesser theaters of Lake Erie and Lake Champlain. Perry's achievement on Lake Erie in building a superior flotilla in the face of all manner of obstacles was even greater than that of the victory itself. The result of the latter, won on September 10, 1813, is summed up in his despatch: "We have met the enemy and they are ours—2 ships, 2 brigs, 1 schooner, and 1 sloop." It assured the safety of the northwestern frontier.

On Lake Champlain Macdonough's successful defense just a year later held up an invasion which, though it would not have been pushed very strenuously in any case, might have made our position less favorable for the peace negotiations then already under way. In this action, as in the one on Lake Erie, the total strength of each of the opposing flotillas, measured in weight of broadsides (1192 pounds for the British against 1194 far the Americans), was about that of a single ship-of-the-line. But the number of units employed raised all the problems of a squadron engagement. Macdonough's shrewd choice of position in Plattsburg Bay, imposing upon the enemy a difficult approach under a raking fire, and his excellent handling of his ships in action, justify his selection as the ablest American naval leader developed by the war.

At the outbreak of the American War, France and England had been engaged in a death grapple in which the rights of neutrals were trampled under foot. Napoleon, by his paper blockade and confiscations on any pretext, had been a more glaring offender. But America's quarrel was after all not with France, who needed American trade, but with England, a commercial rival, who could back her restrictions by naval power. Once France was out of the war, the United States found it easy to come to terms with England, whose commerce was suffering severely from American privateers.[1] At the close of the war the questions at issue when it began had dropped into abeyance, and were not mentioned in the treaty terms.

[Footnote 1: According to figures cited in Mahan's WAR OF 1812, (Vol. II, p. 224), 22 American naval vessels took 165 British prizes, and 526 privateers took 1344 prizes. In the absence of adequate motives on either side for prolonging the war, these losses, though not more severe than those inflicted by French cruisers, were decisive factors for peace.]

The view taken of the aggressions of sea power in the Napoleonic Wars will depend largely on the view taken regarding the justice of the cause in which it fought. It saved the Continent from military conquest. It preserved the European balance of power, a balance which statesmen of that age deemed essential to the safety of Europe and the best interests of America and the rest of the world. On the other hand, but for the sacrifices of England's land allies, the Continental System would have forced her to make peace, though still undefeated at sea. Even if her territorial accessions were slight, England came out of the war undisputed "mistress of the seas" as she had never been before, and for nearly a century to come was without a dangerous rival in naval power and world commerce.

REFERENCES

For general history of the period see: HISTORIES OF THE BRITISH NAVY by Clowes (Vols. V, VI, 1900) and Hannay (1909), Mahan's INFLUENCE OF SEA POWER UPON THE FRENCH REVOLUTION AND EMPIRE (1892) and WAR OF 1812 (1905), Chevalier's HISTOIRE DE LA MARINE FRANcAISE SOUS LA PREMIeRE RePUBLIQUE (1886), Graviere's GUERRES MARITIMES (1885), Callender's SEA KINGS OF BRITAIN (Vol. III, 1911), and Maltzahn's NAVAL WARFARE (tr. Miller, 1908).

Among biographies: Mahan's and Laughton's lives of Nelson, Anson's LIFE OF JERVIS (1913), Clark Russell's LIFE OF COLLINGWOOD (1892), and briefer sketches in FROM HOWARD TO NELSON, ed. Laughton (1899).

For the Trafalgar campaign see:

British Admiralty blue-book on THE TACTICS OF TRAFALGAR (with bibliography, 1913), Corbett's CAMPAIGN OF TRAFALGAR (1910), Col. Desbriere's PROJETS ET TENTATIVES DE DeBARQUEMENT AUX ILES BRITANNIQUES (1902) and CAMPAGNE MARITIME DE TRAFALGAR (1907).

See also Col. C. E. Callwell's MILITARY OPERATIONS AND MARITIME PREPONDERANCE (1913), and Professor Clive Day's HISTORY OF COMMERCE (revised edition, 1911, with bibliography).



CHAPTER XIV

REVOLUTION IN NAVAL WARFARE: HAMPTON ROADS AND LISSA.

During the 19th century, from 1815 to 1898, naval power, though always an important factor in international relations, played in general a passive role. The wars which marked the unification of Germany and Italy and the thrusting back of Turkey from the Balkans were fought chiefly on land. The navy of England, though never more constantly busy in protecting her far-flung empire, was not challenged to a genuine contest for mastery of the seas. In the Greek struggle for independence there were two naval engagements of some consequence—Chios (1822), where the Greeks with fireships destroyed a Turkish squadron and gained temporary control of the AEgean, and Navarino (1827), in which a Turkish force consisting principally of frigates was wiped out by a fleet of the western powers. But both of these actions were one-sided, and showed nothing new in types or tactics. In the American Civil War control of the sea was important and even decisive, but was overwhelmingly in the hands of the North. Hence the chief naval interest of the period lies not so much in the fighting as in the revolutionary changes in ships, weapons, and tactics—changes which parallel the extraordinary scientific progress of the century; and the engagements may be studied now, as they were studied then, as testing and illustrating the new methods and materials of naval war.

Changes in Ships and Weapons

Down to the middle of the 19th century there had been only a slow and slight development in ships and weapons for a period of nearly 300 years. A sailor of the Armada would soon have felt at home in a three-decker of 1815. But he would have been helpless as a child in the fire-driven iron monsters that fought at Hampton Roads. The shift from sail to steam, from oak to iron, from shot to shell, and from muzzle-loading smoothbore to breech-loading rifle began about 1850; and progress thereafter was so swift that an up-to-date ship of each succeeding decade was capable of defeating a whole squadron of ten years before. Success came to depend on the adaptability and mechanical skill of personnel, as well as their courage and discipline, and also upon the progressive spirit of constructors and naval experts, faced with the most difficult problems, the wrong solution of which would mean the waste of millions of dollars and possible defeat in war. Every change had to overcome the spirit of conservatism inherent in military organizations, where seniority rules, errors are sanctified by age, and every innovation upsets cherished routine. Thus in the contract for Ericsson's Monitor it was stipulated that she should have masts, spars, and sails!

The first successful steamboat for commerce was, as is well known, Robert Fulton's flat-bottomed side-wheeler Clermont, which in August, 1807, made the 150 miles from New York to Albany in 32 hours. During the war of 1812 Fulton designed for coast defense a heavily timbered, double-ender floating battery, with a single paddle-wheel located inside amidships. On her trial trip in 1815 this first steam man-of-war, the U. S. S. Fulton, carried 26 guns and made over 6 knots, but she was then laid up and was destroyed a few years later by fire. Ericsson's successful application of the screw propeller in 1837 made steam propulsion more feasible for battleships by clearing the decks and eliminating the clumsy and exposed side-wheels. The first American screw warship was the U. S. S. Princeton, of 1843, but every ship in the American Navy at the outbreak of the Civil War had at least auxiliary sail rig. Though by 1850 England had 30 vessels with auxiliary steam, the Devastation of 1869 was the first in the British service to use steam exclusively. Long after this time old "floating museums" with sail rig and smoothbores were retained in most navies for motives of economy, and even the first ships of the American "White Squadron" were encumbered with sails and spars.



Progress in ordnance began about 1822, when explosive shells, hitherto used only in mortars, were first adopted for ordinary cannon with horizontal fire. At the time of the Crimean War shells were the usual ammunition for lower tier guns, and at Sinope in 1853 their smashing effect against wooden hulls was demonstrated when a Russian squadron destroyed some Turkish vessels which fired only solid shot. The great professional cry of the time, we are told, became "For God's sake, keep out the shell."[1]

[Footnote 1: Custance, THE SHIP OF THE LINE IN BATTLE, p. 9.]

In 1851 Minie rifles supplanted in the British army the old smoothbore musket or "Brown Bess," with which at ranges above 200 yards it was difficult to hit a target 11 feet square. This change led quickly to the rifling of heavy ordnance as well. The first Armstrong rifles of 1858—named after their inventor, Sir William Armstrong, head of the Royal Gun Factory at Woolwich—included guns up to 7-inch diameter of bore. The American navy, however, depended chiefly on smoothbores throughout the Civil War.

Breech-loading, which had been used centuries earlier, came in again with these first rifles, but after 1865 the British navy went back to muzzle-loading and stuck to it persistently for the next 15 years. By that time the breech-loading mechanism had been simplified, and its adoption became necessary to secure greater length of gun barrel, increased rapidity of fire, and better protection for gun-crews. About 1880 quick-fire guns of from 3 to 6 inches, firing 12 or 15 shots a minute, were mounted in secondary batteries.

As already suggested, the necessity for armor arose from the smashing and splintering effect of shell against wooden targets and the penetrating power of rifled guns. To attack Russian forts in the Crimea, the French navy in 1855 built three steam-driven floating batteries, the Tonnant, Lave, and Devastation, each protected by 4.3-inch plates and mounting 8 56-lb. guns. In the reduction of the Kinburn batteries, in October of the same year, these boats suffered little, but were helped out by an overwhelming fire from wooden ships, 630 guns against 81 in the forts.

The French armored ship Gloire of 1859 caused England serious worry about her naval supremacy, and led at once to H. M. S. Warrior, like the Gloire, full rigged with auxiliary steam. The Warrior's 4.5-inch armor, extending from 6 feet below the waterline to 16 feet above and covering about 42 per cent of the visible target, was proof against the weapons of the time. At this initial stage in armored construction, naval experts turned with intense interest to watch the work of ironclads against ships and forts in the American Civil War.

The American Civil War

The naval activities of this war are too manifold to follow in detail. For four years the Union navy was kept constantly occupied with the tasks of blockading over 3000 miles of coast-line, running down enemy commerce destroyers, cooperating with the army in the capture of coast strongholds, and opening the Mississippi and other waterways leading into the heart of the Confederacy. To make the blockade effective and cut off the South from the rest of the world, the Federal Government unhesitatingly applied the doctrine of "continuous voyage," seizing and condemning neutral ships even when bound from England to Bermuda or the Bahamas, if their cargo was ultimately destined for Southern ports. The doctrine was declared inapplicable when the last leg of the journey was by land,[1] doubtless because there was little danger of heavy traffic across the Mexican frontier. Blockade runners continued to pour goods into the South until the fall of Fort Fisher in 1865; but as the blockade became more stringent, it crippled the finances of the Confederacy, shut out foodstuffs and munitions, and shortened, if it did not even have a decisive effect in winning the war.

[Footnote 1: Peterhoff Case, 1866 (5 Wall, 28).]

To meet these measures the South was at first practically without naval resources, and had to turn at once to new methods of war. Its first move was to convert the steam frigate Merrimac, captured half-burned with the Norfolk Navy Yard, into an ironclad ram. A casemate of 4 inches of iron over 22 inches of wood, sloping 35 degrees from the vertical, was extended over 178 feet, or about two-thirds of her hull. Beyond this structure the decks were awash. The Merrimac had an armament of 6 smoothbores and 4 rifles, two of the latter being pivot-guns at bow and stern, and a 1500-lb. cast-iron beak or ram. With her heavy load of guns and armor she drew 22 feet aft and could work up a speed of barely 5 knots.

Faced with this danger, the North hurriedly adopted Ericsson's plan for the Monitor,[2] which was contracted for on October 4, 1861, and launched after 100 days. Old marlin-spike seamen pooh-poohed this "cheesebox on a raft." As a naval officer said, it might properly be worshiped by its designer, for it was an image of nothing in the heavens above, or the earth beneath, or the waters under the earth. It consisted of a revolving turret with 8-inch armor and two 11-inch smoothbore guns, set on a raft-like structure 142 feet in length by 41-1/2 feet in beam, projecting at bow, stern, and sides beyond a flat-bottomed lower hull. Though unseaworthy, the Monitor maneuvered quickly and drew only 10-1/2 feet. She was first ordered to the Gulf, but on March 6 this destination was suddenly changed to the Chesapeake.

[Footnote 2: So called by Ericsson because it would "admonish" the South, and also suggest to England "doubts as to the propriety of completing four steel-clad ships at three and one-half millions apiece."]

The South in fact won the race in construction and got its ship first into action by a margin of just half a day. At noon on March 8, with the iron-workers still driving her last rivets, the Merrimac steamed out of Norfolk and advanced ponderously upon the three sail and two steam vessels then anchored in Hampton Roads.

In the Northern navy there had been much skepticism about the ironclad and no concerted plan to meet her attack. Under a rain of fire from the Union ships, and from share fortifications too distant to be effective, the Merrimac rammed and sank the sloop-of-war Cumberland, and then, after driving the frigate Congress aground, riddled her with shells. Towards nightfall the Confederate vessel moved dawn stream, to continue the slaughter next day.

About 12 o'clock that night, after two days of terrible buffeting on the voyage down the coast, the little Monitor anchored on the scene lighted up by the burning wreck of the Congress. The first battle of ironclads began next morning at 8:30 and continued with slight intermission till noon. It ended in a triumph, not for either ship, but for armor over guns. The Monitor fired 41 solid shot, 20 of which struck home, but merely cracked some of the Merrimac's outer plates. The Monitor was hit 22 times by enemy shells. Neither craft was seriously harmed and not a man was killed on either side, though several were stunned or otherwise injured. Lieut. Worden, in command of the Monitor, was nearly blinded by a shell that smashed in the pilot house, a square iron structure then located not above the turret but on the forward deck.

The drawn battle was hailed as a Northern victory. Imagination had been drawing dire pictures of what the Merrimac might do. At a Cabinet meeting in Washington Sunday morning, March 9, Secretary of War Stanton declared: "The Merrimac will change the course of the war; she will destroy seriatim every naval vessel; she will lay all the cities on the seaboard under contribution. I have no doubt that the enemy is at this minute on the way to Washington, and that we shall have a shell from one of her guns in the White House before we leave this room." The menace was somewhat exaggerated. With her submerged decks, feeble engines, and general awkwardness, the Merrimac could scarcely navigate in Hampton Roads. In the first day's fighting her beak was wrenched off and a leak started, two guns were put out of action, and her funnel and all other top-hamper were riddled. As was shown by Farragut in Mobile Bay, and again by Tegetthoff at Lissa, even wooden vessels, if in superior numbers, might do something against an ironclad in an aggressive melee.

Both the antagonists at Hampton Roads ended their careers before the close of 1862; the Merrimac was burned by her crew at the evacuation of Norfolk, and the Monitor was sunk under tow in a gale off Hatteras. But turret ships, monitors, and armored gunboats soon multiplied in the Union navy and did effective service against the defenses of Southern harbors and rivers. Under Farragut's energetic leadership, vessels both armored and unarmored passed with relatively slight injury the forts below New Orleans, at Vicksburg, and at the entrance to Mobile Bay. Even granting that the shore artillery was out of date and not very expertly served, it is well to realize that similar conditions may conceivably recur, and that the superiority of forts over ships is qualified by conditions of equipment and personnel.

Actually to destroy or capture shore batteries by naval force is another matter. As Ericsson said, "A single shot will sink a ship, while 100 rounds cannot silence a fort."[1] Attacks of this kind against Fort McAllister and Charleston failed. At Charleston, April 7, 1863, the ironclads faced a cross-fire from several forts, 47 smoothbores and 17 rifles against 29 smoothbores and 4 rifles in the ships, and in waters full of obstructions and mines.

[Footnote 1: Wilson, IRONCLADS IN ACTION, Vol. I, p. 91.]

The capture of Fort Fisher, commanding the main entrance to Wilmington, North Carolina, was accomplished in January, 1865, by the combined efforts of the army and navy. The fort, situated on a narrow neck of land between the Cape Fear River and the sea, had 20 guns on its land face and 24 on its sea face, 15 of them rifled. Against it were brought 5 ironclads with 18 guns, backed up by over 200 guns in the rest of the fleet. After a storm of shot and shell for three successive days, rising at times to "drum-fire," the barrage was lifted at a signal and troops and sailors dashed forward from their positions on shore. Even after this preparation the capture cost 1000 men. As at Kinhurn in the Crimean War, the effectiveness of the naval forces was due less to protective armor than to volume of fire.

Submarines and Torpedoes

In the defense of Southern harbors, mines and torpedoes for the first time came into general use, and the submarine scored its first victim. Experiments with these devices had been going on for centuries, but were first brought close to practical success by David Bushnell, a Connecticut Yankee of the American Revolution. His tiny submarine, resembling a mud-turtle standing on its tail, embodied many features of modern underwater boats, including a primitive conning tower, screw propulsion (by foot power), a vertical screw to drive the craft down, and a detachable magazine with 150 pounds of gunpowder. The Turtle paddled around and even under British men-of-war off New York and New London, but could not drive a spike through their copper bottoms to attach its mine.

Robert Fulton, probably the greatest genius in nautical invention, carried the development of bath mines and submarines much further. His Nautilus, so-called because its collapsible sail resembled that of the familiar chambered nautilus, was surprisingly ahead of its time; it had a fish-like shape, screw propulsion (by a two-man hand winch), horizontal diving rudder, compressed air tank, water tank filled or emptied by a pump, and a torpedo[1] consisting of a detachable case of gunpowder. A lanyard ran from the torpedo through an eye in a spike, to be driven in the enemy hull, and thence to the submarine, which as it moved away brought the torpedo up taut against the spike and caused its explosion. Fulton interested Napoleon in his project, submerged frequently for an hour or more, and blew up a hulk in Brest harbor. But the greybeards in the French navy frowned on these novel methods, declaring them "immoral" and "contrary to the laws of war."

[Footnote 1: This name, coined by Fulton, was from the torpedo electricus, or cramp fish, which kills its victim by electric shock.]



Later the British Government entered into negotiations with the inventor, and in October, 1804, used his mines in an unsuccessful attack an the French flotilla of invasion at Boulogne. Only one pinnace was sunk. Fulton still maintained that he could "sweep all military marines off the ocean."[2] But Trafalgar ended his chances. As the old Admiral Earl St. Vincent remarked, "Pitt [the Prime Minister] would be the greatest fool that ever existed to encourage a mode of war which they who command the sea do not want and which if successful would deprive them of it." So Fulton took L15,000 and dropped his schemes.

[Footnote 2: Letter to Pitt, Jan. 6, 1806.]



Much cruder than the Nautilus, owing to their hurried construction, were the Confederate "Davids" of the Civil War. One of these launches, which ran only semi-submerged, drove a spar torpedo against the U. S. S. New Ironsides off Charleston, but it exploded on the rebound, too far away. The C. S. S. Hunley was a real submarine, and went down readily, but on five occasions it failed to emerge properly, and drowned in these experiments about 35 men. In August, 1864, running on the surface, it sank by torpedo the U. S. Corvette Housatonic off Charleston, but went down in the suction of the larger vessel, carrying to death its last heroic crew.

By the end of the century, chiefly owing to the genius and patient efforts of two American inventors, John P. Holland and Simon Lake, the submarine was passing from the experimental to the practical stage. Its possibilities were increased by the Whitehead torpedo (named after its inventor, a British engineer established in Fiume, Austria), which came out in 1868 and was soon adopted in European navies. With gyroscopic stabilizing devices and a "warmer" for the compressed air of its engine, the torpedo attained before 1900 a speed of 28 knots and a possible range of 1000 yards. Its first victim was the Chilean warship Blanco, sunk in 1891 at 50 yards after two misses. Thornycroft in England first achieved speed for small vessels, and in 1873 began turning out torpedo boats. Destroyers came in twenty years later, and by the end of the century were making over 30 knots.

Long before this time the lessons of the Civil War had hastened the adoption of armor, the new ships ranging from high-sided vessels with guns in broadside, as in the past, to low freeboard craft influenced by the Monitor design, with a few large guns protected by revolving turrets or fixed barbettes, and with better provision for all-around fire. Ordnance improved in penetrating power, until the old wrought-iron armor had to be 20 inches thick and confined to waterline and batteries. Steel "facing" and the later plates of Krupp or Harveyized steel made it possible again to lighten and spread out the armor, and during the last decade of the century it steadily increased its ascendancy over the gun.

The Battle of Lissa

The adoption of armor meant sacrifice of armament, and a departure from Farragut's well-tried maxim, "The best protection against the enemy's fire is a well-sustained fire from your own guns." Thus the British Dreadnought of 1872 gave 35% of its displacement to armor and only 5% to armament. Invulnerability was secured at the expense of offensive power. That aggressive tactics and weapons retained all their old value in warfare was to receive timely illustration in the Battle of Lissa, fought in the year after the American war. The engagement illustrated also another of Farragut's pungent maxims to the effect that iron in the ships is less important than "iron in the men"—a saying especially true when, as with the Austrians at Lissa, the iron is in the chief in command.

In 1866 Italy and Prussia attacked Austria in concert, Italy having secured from Bismarck a pledge of Venetia in the event of victory. Though beaten at Custozza on June 24, the Italians did their part by keeping busy an Austrian army of 80,000. Moltke crushed the northern forces of the enemy at Sadowa on July 3, and within three weeks had reached the environs of Vienna and practically won the war. Lissa was fought on July 20, just 6 days before the armistice. This general political and military situation should be borne in mind as throwing some light on the peculiar Italian strategy in the Lissa campaign.

Struggling Italy, her unification under the House of Piedmont as yet only partly achieved, had shown both foresight and energy in building up a fleet. Her available force on the day of Lissa consisted of 12 armored ships and 16 wooden steam vessels of same fighting value. The ironclads included 7 armored frigates, the best of which were the two "kings," Re d'Italia and Re di Portogallo, built the year before in New York (rather badly, it is said), each armed with about 30 heavy rifles. Then there was the new single-turret ram Affondatore, or "Sinker," with two 300-pounder 10-inch rifles, which came in from England only the day before the battle. Some of the small protected corvettes and gunboats were of much less value, the Palestro, for instance, which suffered severely in the fight, having a thin sheet of armor over only two-fifths of her exposed hull.

The Austrian fleet had the benefit of some war experience against Denmark in the North Sea two years before, but it was far inferior and less up-to-date, its armored ships consisting of 7 screw frigates armed chiefly with smoothbores. Of the wooden ships, there were 7 screw frigates and corvettes, 9 gunboats and schooners, and 3 little side-wheelers—a total of 19. The following table indicates the relative strength:

Armored Wooden Small craft Total Rifles Total w't - of metal No. Guns No. Guns No. Guns No. Guns No. Weight - - - - - Austria 7 176 7 304 12 52 22 532 121 7,130 23,538 Italy 12 243 11 382 5 16 28 641 276 28,700 53,236

Thus in general terms the Italians were nearly twice as strong in main units, could fire twice as heavy a weight of metal from all their guns, and four times as heavy from their rifles. Even without the Affondatore, their advantage was practically as great as this from the beginning of the war.

With such a preponderance, it would seem as if Persano, the Italian commander in chief, could easily have executed his savage-sounding orders to "sweep the enemy from the Adriatic, and to attack and blockade them wherever found." He was dilatory, however, in assembling his fleet, negligent in practice and gun drill, and passive in his whole policy to a degree absolutely ruinous to morale. War was declared June 20, and had long been foreseen; yet it was June 25 before he moved the bulk of his fleet from Taranto to Ancona in the Adriatic. Here on the 27th they were challenged by 13 Austrian ships, which lay off the port cleared for action for two hours, while Persano made no real move to fight. It is said that the Italian defeat at Custozza three days before had taken the heart out of him. On July 8 he put to sea for a brief three days' cruise and went through some maneuvers and signaling but no firing, though many of the guns were newly mounted and had never been tried by their crews.

At this time Napoleon III of France had already undertaken mediation between the hostile powers. In spite of the orders of June 8, quoted above, which seem sufficiently definite, and urgent orders to the same effect later, Persano was unwilling to take the offensive, and kept complaining of lack of clear instructions as to what he should do. He was later convicted of cowardice and negligence; but the campaign he finally undertook against Lissa was dangerous enough, and it seems possible that some secret political maneuvering was partly responsible for his earlier delay.[1]

[Footnote 1: In July Persano wrote to the Deputy Boggio: "Leave the care of my reputation to me; I would rather be wrongly dishonored than rightly condemned. Patience will bring peace; I shall be called a traitor, but nevertheless Italy will have her fleet intact, and that of Austria will be rendered useless." Quoted in Bernotti, IL POTERE MARITTIMO NELLA GRANDE GUERRA, p. 177.]

It is significant at least that the final proposal to make a descent upon the fortified island of Lissa came not from Persana but from the Minister of Marine. On July 15 the latter took up the project with the fleet chief of staff, d'Amico, and with Rear Admiral Vacca, but not until later with Persano. All agreed that the prospect of a truce allowed no time for a movement against Venice or the Austrian base at Pola, but that they should strike a swift stroke elsewhere. Lissa commanded the Dalmatian coast, was essential to naval control in the Adriatic, and was coveted by Italy then as in later times. It would be better than trying to crush the enemy fleet at the risk of her own if she could enter the peace conference with possession of Lissa a fait accompli.

Undertaken in the face of an undefeated enemy fleet, this move has been justly condemned by naval strategists. But with a less alert opponent the coup might have succeeded. Tegetthoff, the Austrian commander, was not yet 41 years of age, but had been in active naval service since he was 18, and had led a squadron bravely in a fight with the Danes two years before off Heligoland. He had his heterogeneous array of fighting craft assembled at Pola at the outbreak of war. "Give me everything you have," he told the Admiralty when they asked him what ships he wanted; "I'll find some use for them." His crews were partly men of Slav and Italian stock from the Adriatic coast, including 600 from Venice; there is no reason for supposing them better than those of Persano. The influence of their leader, however, inspired them with loyalty and fighting spirit, and their defiance of the Italians at Ancona on June 27 increased their confidence. When successive cable messages from Lissa satisfied him that the Italian fleet was not attempting a diversion but was actually committed to an attack on the island, Tegetthoff set out thither on July 19 with his entire fighting force. His order of sailing was the order of battle. "Every captain knew the admiral's intention as well as the admiral himself did; every officer knew what had to be done, and every man had some idea of it, and above all knew that he had to fight."[1]

[Footnote 1: Laughton, STUDIES IN NAVAL HISTORY, Tegetthoff, p. 164.]

In the meantime the Italian drive on Lissa had gone ahead slowly. The island batteries were on commanding heights and manned by marines and artillerymen resolved to fight to the last ditch. During the second day's bombardment the Affondatore appeared, and also some additional troops needed to complete the landing force. Two-thirds of the guns on shore were silenced that day, and if the landing operations had been pushed, the island captured, and the fleet taken into the protected harbor of St. Giorgio, Tegetthoff would have had a harder problem to solve. But as the mist blew away with a southerly wind at 10 o'clock on the next day, July 20, the weary garrison on the heights of the island gave cheer after cheer as they saw the Austrian squadron plunging through the head seas at full speed from the northeastward, while the Italian ships hurriedly drew together north of the island to meet the blow.

The Austrians advanced in three successive divisions, ironclads, wooden frigates, and finally the smaller vessels, each in a wedge-shaped formation (shown by the diagram), with the apex toward the enemy. The object was to drive through the Italian line if possible near the van and bring on a close scrimmage in which all ships could take part, ramming tactics could be employed, and the enemy would profit less by their superiority in armor and guns. Like Nelson's at Trafalgar, Tegetthoff's formation was one not likely to be imitated, but it was at least simple and well understood, and against a passive resistance it gave the results planned.



"Ecco i pescatori!" (Here come the fishermen), cried Persana, with a scorn he was far from actually feeling. The Italians were in fact caught at a disadvantage. One of their best ships, the Formidabile, had been put hors de combat by the batteries on the day before. Another, coming in late from the west end of the island, took no part in the action. The wooden ships, owing to the cowardice of their commander, Albini, also kept out of the fight, though Persano signaled desperately to them to enter the engagement and "surround the enemy rear." With his remaining ironclads Persano formed three divisions of three ships each and swung across the enemy's bows in line ahead. Just at the critical moment, and for no very explicable motive, he shifted his flag from the Re d'Italia in the center to the Affondatore, which was steaming alone on the starboard side of the line. The change was not noted by all his ships, and thus caused confusion of orders. The delay involved also left a wider gap between van and center, and through this the Austrians plunged, Tegetthoff in his flagship Erzherzog Ferdinand Max leading the way.

Here orderly formation ended, and only the more striking episodes stand out in a desperate close combat, during which the black ships of Austria and the gray of Italy rammed or fired into each other amid a smother of smoke and spray. The Austrian left flank and rear held up the Italian van; the Austrian ironclads engaged the Italian center; and the wooden ships of the Austrian middle division, led by the 92-gun Kaiser, smashed into the Italian rear. Of all the Austrian ships, the big Kaiser, a relic of other days, saw the hardest fighting. Twice she avoided the Affondatore's ram, and she was struck by one of her 300-pound projectiles. Then the Re di Portogallo bore down, but Petz, the Kaiser's captain, rang for full speed ahead and steered for the ironclad, striking a glancing blow and scraping past her, while both ships poured in a heavy fire. The Kaiser soon afterward drew out of the action, her foremast and funnel down, and a bad blaze burning amidships. Altogether she fired 850 rounds in the action, or about one-fifth of the total fired by the Austrians, and she received 80 hits, again one-fifth of the total. Of the 38 Austrians killed and 138 wounded in the battle, she lost respectively 24 and 75.

The Kaiser's combat, though more severe, was typical of what was going on elsewhere. The Italian gunboat Palestro was forced to withdraw to fight a fire that threatened her magazines. The Re d'Italia, which was at first supposed by the Austrians to be Persano's flagship, was a center of attack and had her steering gear disabled. As she could go only straight ahead or astern, the Austrian flagship seized the chance and rammed her squarely amidships at full speed, crashing through her armor and opening an immense hole. The Italian gunboat heeled over to starboard, then back again, and in a few seconds went down, with a loss of 381 men.

This spectacular incident practically decided the battle. After an hour's fighting the two squadrons drew apart about noon, the Austrians finally entering St. Giorgio harbor and the Italians withdrawing to westward. During the retreat the fire on the Palestro reached her ammunition and she blew up with a loss of 231 of her crew. Except in the two vessels destroyed, the Italian losses were slight—8 killed and 40 wounded. But the armored ships were badly battered, and less than a month later the Affondatore sank in a squall in Ancona harbor, partly, it was thought, owing to injuries received at Lissa.

For a long time after this fight, an exaggerated view was held regarding the value of ramming, line abreast formation, and bow fire. Weapons condition tactics, and these tactics of Tegetthoff were suited to the means he had to work with. But they were not those which should have been adopted by his opponents; nor would they have been successful had the Italians brought their broadsides to bear on a parallel course and avoided a melee. What the whole campaign best illustrates—and the lesson has permanent interest—is how a passive and defensive policy, forced upon the Italian fleet by the incompetence of its admiral or otherwise, led to its demoralization and ultimate destruction. After a long period of inactivity, Persano weakened his force against shore defenses before he had disposed of the enemy fleet, and was then taken at a disadvantage. His passive strategy was reflected in his tactics. He engaged with only a part of his force, and without a definite plan; "A storm of signals swept over his squadron" as it went into action. What really decided the battle was not the difference in ships, crews, or weapons, but the difference in aggressiveness and ability of the two admirals in command.

The Battle of the Yalu

Twenty-eight years elapsed after Lissa before the next significant naval action, the Battle of the Yalu, between fleets of China and Japan. Yet the two engagements may well be taken together, since at the Yalu types and tactics were still transitional, and the initial situation at Lissa was duplicated—line abreast against line ahead. The result, however, was reversed, for the Japanese in line ahead took the initiative, used their superior speed to conduct the battle on their own terms, and won the day.

Trouble arose in the Far East over the dissolution of the decrepit monarchy of Korea, upon which both Japan and China cast covetous eyes. As nominal suzerain, China in the spring of 1894 sent 2000 troops to Korea to suppress an insurrection, without observing certain treaty stipulations which required her to notify Japan. The latter nation despatched 5000 men to Chemulpo in June. Hostilities broke out on July 25, when four fast Japanese cruisers, including the Naniwa Kan under the future Admiral Togo, fell upon the Chinese cruiser Tsi-yuen and two smaller vessels, captured the latter and battered the cruiser badly before she got away, and then to complete the day's work sank a Chinese troop transport, saving only the European officers on board.

After this affair the Chinese Admiral Ting, a former cavalry officer but with some naval experience, favored taking the offensive, since control of the sea by China would at once decide the war. But the Chinese Foreign Council gave him orders not to cruise east of a line from Shantung to the mouth of the Yalu. Reverses on land soon forced him to give all his time to troop transportation, and this occupied both navies throughout the summer.

On September 16, the day before the Battle of the Yalu, the Chinese battleships escorted transports with 5000 troops to the mouth of the Yalu, and on the following morning they were anchored quietly outside the river. "For weeks," writes an American naval officer who was in command of one of the Chinese battleships, "we had anticipated an engagement, and had had daily exercise at general quarters, etc., and little remained to be done.... The fleet went into action as well prepared as it was humanly possible for it to be with the same officers and men, handicapped as they were by official corruption and treachery ashore."[1] As the midday meal was in preparation, columns of black smoke appeared to southwestward. The squadron at once weighed anchor, cleared for action, and put on forced draft, while "dark-skinned men, with queues tightly coiled around their heads, and with arms bare to the elbow, clustered along the decks in groups at the guns, waiting to kill or be killed." Out of the smoke soon emerged 12 enemy cruisers which, with information of the Chinese movements, had entered the Gulf intent on battle.

[Footnote 1: Commander P. N. McGiffin, THE BATTLE OF THE YALU, Century Magazine, August, 1895, pp. 585-604.]

The forces about to engage included the best ships of both nations. There were 12 on each side, excluding 4 Chinese torpedo boats, and 10 actually in each battle line. The main strength of the Chinese was concentrated in two second-class battleships, the Ting-yuen and the Chen-yuen, Stettin-built in 1882, each of 7430 tons, with 14-inch armor over half its length, four 12-inch Krupp guns in two barbettes, and 6-inch rifles at bow and stern. The two barbettes were en echelon (the starboard just ahead of the port), in such a way that while all four guns could fire dead ahead only two could bear on the port quarter or the starboard bow. These ships were designed for fighting head-on; and hence to use them to best advantage Admiral Ting formed his squadron in line abreast, with the Ting-yuen and Chen-yuen in the center. The rest of the line were a "scratch lot" of much smaller vessels—two armored cruisers (Lai-yuen and King-yuen) with 8 to 9-inch armored belts; three protected cruisers (Tsi-yuen, Chi-yuen, and Kwang-ping) with 2 to 4-inch armored decks; on the left flank the old corvette Kwang-chia; and opposite her two other "lame ducks" of only 1300 tons, the Chao-yung and Yang-wei. Ting had properly strengthened his center, but had left his flanks fatally weak. On board the flagship Ting-yuen was Major von Hannekin, China's military adviser, and an ex-petty officer of the British navy named Nichols. Philo N. McGiffin, a graduate of the United States Naval Academy, commanded the Chen-yuen.

The Japanese advanced in column, or line ahead, in two divisions. The first, or "flying squadron," was led by Rear Admiral Tsuboi in the Yoshino, and consisted of four fast protected cruisers. Four similar ships, headed by Vice Admiral Ito in the Matsushima, formed the chief units of the main squadron, followed by the older and slower ironclads, Fuso and Hiyei. The little gunboat Akagi and the converted steamer Saikio Maru had orders not to engage, but nevertheless pushed in on the left of the line. Aside from their two battleships, the Chinese had nothing to compare with these eight new and well-armed cruisers, the slowest of which could make 17-1/2 knots.

In armament the Japanese also had a marked advantage, as the following table, from Wilsan's Ironclads in Action, will show:

- SHIPS GUNS SHOTS IN 10 MINUTES - - Large Small q. f. Weight of Number 6-inch quick fire and machine Number metal - - - China 12 40 2 130 33 4,885 Japan 10 34 66 154 185 11,706 -

The smaller quick-fire and machine guns proved of slight value on either side, but the large Japanese quick-firers searched all unprotected parts of the enemy ships with a terrific storm of shells. After the experience of July 25, the Chinese had discarded much of their woodwork and top hamper, including boats, thin steel gun-shields, rails, needless rigging, etc., and used coal and sand bags an the upper decks; but the unarmored ships nevertheless suffered severely. From the table it is evident that the Japanese could pour in six times as great a volume of fire. The Chinese had a slight advantage in heavier guns, and their marksmanship, it is claimed, was equally accurate (possibly 10% hits on each side), but their ammunition was defective and consisted mostly of non-bursting projectiles. They had only 15 rounds of shell for each gun.

During the approach the Japanese steered at first for the enemy center, thus concealing their precise objective, and then swung to port, with the aim of attacking on the weaker side of the Chinese battleships (owing to their barbette arrangement) and on the weaker flank of the line. In the meantime the Chinese steamed forward at about 6 knots and turned somewhat to keep head-on, thus forcing the Japanese to file across their bows. At 12.20 p.m. the Chen-yuen and Ting-yuen opened at 5800 yards on Tsuboi's squadron, which held its fire until at 3000 yards or closer it swung around the Chinese right wing.

The main squadron followed. Admiral Ito has been criticized for thus drawing his line across the enemy's advance, instead of attacking their left flank. But he was previously committed to the movement, and executed it rapidly and for the most part at long range. Had the Chinese pressed forward at best speed, Lissa might have been repeated. As it was, they cut off only the Hiyei. To avoid ramming, this old ironclad plunged boldly between the Chen-yuen and Ting-yuen. She was hit 22 times and had 56 killed and wounded, but managed to pull through.

Before this time the Chao-yung and Yang-wei on the right flank of the Chinese line had crumpled under a heavy cross-fire from the flying squadron. These ships had wooden cabins on deck outboard, and the whole superstructure soon became roaring masses of flames. Both dropped out of line and burned to the water's edge. The two ships on the opposite flank had seized an early opportunity to withdraw astern of the line, and were now off for Port Arthur under full steam, "followed," writes McGiffin, "by a string of Chinese anathemas from our men at the guns."



The Japanese van turned to port and was thus for some time out of action. The main division turned to starboard and circled the Chinese rear. Of the 6 Chinese ships left in the line, the four smaller seem now to have moved on to southward, while both Japanese divisions concentrated on the two battleships Chen-yuen and Ting-yuen. These did their best to keep head to the enemy, and stood up doggedly, returning slowly the fire of the circling cruisers. Tsuboi soon turned away to engage the lighter vessels. Finally, at 3.26, as the Matsushima closed to about 2000 yards, the Chen-yuen hit her fairly with a last remaining 12-inch shell. This one blow put Ito's flagship out of action, exploding some ammunition, killing or wounding 50 or more men, and starting a dangerous fire. The Japanese hauled off, while according to Chinese accounts the battleships actually followed, but at 4.30 came again under a severe fire. About 5.30, when the Chinese were practically out of ammunition, Ito finally withdrew and recalled his van.

Of the other Chinese ships, the Chi-yuen made a desperate attempt to approach the Japanese van and went down at 3.30 with screws racing in the air. The King-yuen, already on fire, was shot to pieces and sunk an hour later by the Yoshino's quick-firers. As the sun went down, the Lai-yuen and Kwang-ping, with two ships from the river mouth, fell in behind the battleships and staggered off towards Port Arthur, unpursued. The losses on the two armored ships had been relatively slight—56 killed and wounded. The Japanese lost altogether 90 killed and 204 wounded, chiefly on the Matsushima and Hiyei.

Though China saved her best ships from the battle, her fighting spirit was done for. The battleships were later destroyed by Japanese torpedo operations after the fall of Wei-hai-wei. Her crews had on the whole fought bravely, handicapped as they were by their poor materials and lack of skill. For instance, when McGiffin called for volunteers to extinguish a fire on the Chen-yuen's forecastle, swept by enemy shells, "men responded heartily and went to what seemed to them certain death." It was at this time that the commander himself, leading the party, was knocked over by a shell explosion and then barely escaped the blast of one of his own 12-inch guns by rolling through an open hatch and falling 8 feet to a pile of debris below.

In the way of lessons, aside from the obvious ones as to the value of training and expert leadership and the necessity of eliminating inflammables in ship construction, the battle revealed on the one hand the great resisting qualities of the armored ship, and on the other hand the offensive value of superior gunfire. Admiral Mahan said at the time that "The rapid fire gun has just now fairly established its position as the greatest offensive weapon in naval warfare."[1] Another authority has noted that, both at Lissa and the Yalu, "The winning fleet was worked in divisions, as was the British fleet in the Dutch wars and at Trafalgar, and the Japanese fleet afterwards at Tsushima." Remarking that experiments with this method were made by the British Channel Fleet in 1904, the writer continues: "The conception grew out of a study of Nelson's Memorandum. Its essence was to make the fleet flexible in the hands of the admiral, and to enable any part to be moved by the shortest line to the position where it was most required."[2]

[Footnote 1: LESSONS FROM THE YALU FIGHT, Century Magazine, August, 1895, p. 630.]

[Footnote 2: Custance, THE SHIP OF THE LINE IN BATTLE, p. 103.]

By the Treaty of Shimonoseki (April 17, 1895) which closed the war, Japan won Port Arthur and the Liao-tung Peninsula, the Pescadores Islands and Formosa, and China's withdrawal from Korea. But just as she was about to lay hands on these generous fruits of victory, they were snatched out of her grasp by the European powers, which began exploiting China for themselves. Japan had to acquiesce and bide her time, using her war indemnity and foreign loans to build up her fleet. The Yalu thus not only marks the rise of Japan as a formidable force in international affairs, but brings us to a period of intensified colonial and commercial rivalry in the Far East and elsewhere which gave added significance to naval power and led to the war of 1914.

REFERENCES

Aside from those already cited see: ROBERT FULTON, ENGINEER AND ARTIST, H. W. Dickinson, 1913. THE STORY OF THE GUNS, J. E. Tennant, 1864. THE BRITISH NAVY, Sir Thomas Brassey, 1884. CLOWES' HISTORY OF THE ROYAL NAVY, Vol. VII (p. 20, bibliography). NAVAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE 19TH CENTURY, N. Barnaby, 1904. THE TORPEDO IN PEACE AND WAR, F. T. Jane, 1898. SUBMARINE WARFARE, H. C. Fyfe, 1902. THE SUBMARINE IN WAR AND PEACE, Simon Lake, 1918. FOUR MODERN NAVAL CAMPAIGNS, Lissa, W. L. Clowes, 1902. THE AUSTRO-ITALIAN NAVAL WAR, Journal of the United Service Institution, Vol. XI, pp. 104ff.



CHAPTER XV

RIVALRY FOR WORLD POWER

Even more significant in its relation to sea power than the revolution in armaments during the 19th century was the extraordinary growth of ocean commerce. The total value of the world's import and export trade in 1800 amounted in round numbers to 1-1/2 billion dollars, in 1850 to 4 billion, and in 1900 to nearly 24 billion. In other words, during a period in which the population of the world was not more than tripled, its international exchange of commodities was increased 16-fold. This growth was of course made possible largely by progress in manufacturing, increased use of steam navigation, and vastly greater output of coal and iron.[1] At the end of the Napoleonic wars England was the only great commercial and industrial state. At the close of the century, though with her colonies she still controlled one-fourth of the world's foreign trade, she faced aggressive rivals in the field. The United States after her Civil War, and Germany after her unification and the Franco-Prussian War, had achieved an immense industrial development, opening up resources in coal and iron that made them formidable competitors. Germany in particular, a late comer in the colonial field, felt that her future lay upon the seas, as a means of securing access on favorable terms to world markets and raw materials. Other nations also realized that their continued growth and prosperity would depend upon commercial expansion. This might be accomplished in a measure by cheaper production and superior business organization, but could be greatly aided by political means—by colonial activity, by securing control or special privileges in unexploited areas and backward states, by building up a merchant fleet under the national flag. Obviously, since the seas join the continents and form the great highways of trade, this commercial and political expansion would give increased importance to naval power.

[Footnote 1: Coal production increased during the century from 11.6 million tons to 610 million, and pig iron from half a million tons to 37 million. Figures from Day, HISTORY OF COMMERCE, Ch. XXVIII.]

Admiral Mahan, an acute political observer as well as strategist, summed up the international situation in 1895 and again in 1897 as "an equilibrium on the [European] Continent, and, in connection with the calm thus resulting, an immense colonizing movement in which all the great powers were concerned."[1] Later, in 1911, he noted that colonial rivalries had again been superseded by rivalries within Europe, but pointed out that the European tension was itself largely the product of activities and ambitions in more distant spheres. In fact the international developments of recent times, whether in the form of colonial enterprises, armament competition, or actual warfare, find a common origin in economic and commercial interests. Commerce and quick communications have drawn the world into closer unity, yet by a kind of paradox have increased the possibilities of conflict. Both by their common origin and by their far-reaching consequences, it is thus possible to connect the story of naval events from the Spanish-American to the World War, and to gather them up under the general title, "rivalry for world power."