1. THE SPANISH-AMERICAN WAR

To this rivalry the United States could hardly hope or desire to remain always a passive spectator, yet, aside from trying to stabilize the western hemisphere by the Monroe Doctrine, she cherished down to the year 1898 a policy of isolation from world affairs. During the first half of the 19th century, it is true, her interests were directed outward by a flourishing merchant marine. In 1860 the American merchant fleet of 2,500,000 tons was second only to Great Britain's and nearly equal to that of all other nations combined. But its decay had already begun, and continued rapidly. The change from wood to iron construction enabled England to build cheaper ships; and American shipping suffered also from lack of government patronage, diversion of capital into mare profitable projects of Western development, and loss of a third of its tonnage by destruction or shift to foreign register during the Civil War. At the outbreak of that war 72 per cent of American exports were carried in American bottoms; only 9 per cent in 1913. Thus the United States had reached the unsatisfactory condition of a nation with a large and rapidly growing foreign commerce and an almost non-existent merchant marine.

[Footnote 1: NAVAL STRATEGY, p. 104.]

This was the situation when the nation was thrust suddenly and half unwillingly into the main stream of international events by the Spanish-American War. Though this war made the United States a world power, commercial or political aggrandizement played no part in her entry into the struggle. It arose solely from the intolerable conditions created by Spanish misrule in Cuba, and intensified by armed rebellion since 1895. Whatever slight hope or justification for non-intervention remained was destroyed by the blowing up of the U. S. S. Maine in Havana harbor, February 15, 1898, with the loss of 260 of her complement of 354 officers and men. Thereafter the United States pushed her preparations for war; but the resolution of Congress, April 19, 1898, authorizing the President to begin hostilities expressly stated that the United States disclaimed any intention to exercise sovereignty over Cuba, and after its pacification would "leave the government and control of the island to its people."

It was at once recognized that the conflict would be primarily naval, and would be won by the nation that secured control of the sea. The paper strength of the two navies left little to choose, and led even competent critics like Admiral Colomb in England to prophesy a stalemate—a "desultory war." Against five new American battleships, the Iowa, Indiana, Massachusetts, Oregon and Texas, the first four of 10,000 tons, and the armored cruisers Brooklyn and New York of 9000 and 8000 tans, Spain could oppose the battleship Pelayo, a little better than the Texas and five armored cruisers, the Carlos V, Infanta Maria Teresa, Almirante Oquendo, and Vizcaya, each of about 7000 tons, and the somewhat larger and very able former Italian cruiser Cristobal Colon. Figures and statistics, however, give no idea of the actual weakness of the Spanish navy, handicapped by shiftless naval administration, by dependence on foreign sources of supply, and by the incompetence and lack of training of personnel. Of the squadron that came to Cuba under Admiral Cervera, the Colon lacked two 10-inch guns for her barbettes, and the Vizcaya was so foul under water that with a trial speed of 18-1/2 knots she never made above 13—Cervera called her a "buoy." There was no settled plan of campaign; to Cervera's requests for instructions came the ministerial reply that "in these moments of international crisis no definite plans can be formulated."[1] The despairing letters of the Spanish Admiral and his subordinates reveal how feeble was the reed upon which Spain had to depend for the preservation of her colonial empire. The four cruisers and two destroyers that sailed from the Cape Verde Islands on April 29 were Spain's total force available. The Pelayo and the Carlos V, not yet ready, were the only ships of value left behind.

[Footnote 1: Bermejo to Cervera, April 4, 1898.]

On the American naval list, in addition to the main units already mentioned, there were six monitors of heavy armament but indifferent fighting value, a considerable force of small cruisers, four converted liners for scouts, and a large number of gunboats, converted yachts, etc., which proved useful in the Cuban blockade. Of these forces the majority were assembled in the Atlantic theater of war. The Oregon was on the West Coast, and made her famous voyage of 14,700 miles around Cape Horn in 79 days, at an average speed of 11.6 knots, leaving Puget Sound on March 6 and touching at Barbados in the West Indies an May 18, just as the Spanish fleet was steaming across the Caribbean. The cruise effectively demonstrated the danger of a divided navy and the need of an Isthmian canal. Under Commodore Dewey in the Far East were two gunboats and four small cruisers, the best of them the fast and heavily armed flagship Olympia, of 5800 tons.

The Battle of Manila Bay



With this latter force the first blow of the war was struck on May 1 in Manila Bay. Dewey, largely through the influence of Assistant Secretary of the Navy Roosevelt, had been appointed to the eastern command the autumn before. On reaching his station in January, he took his squadron to Hong Kong to be close to the scene of possible hostilities. On February 25 he received a despatch from Roosevelt, then Acting Secretary: "Keep full of coal. In the event of declaration of war Spain, your duty will be to see that Spanish squadron does not leave the Asiatic coast, and then offensive operations in the Philippine Islands." On April 25 came the inspiring order: "Proceed at once to Philippine Islands. Commence operations particularly against the Spanish fleet. You must capture vessels or destroy. Use utmost endeavor." The Commodore had already purchased a collier and a supply ship for use in addition to the revenue cutter McCulloch, overhauled his vessels and given them a war coat of slate-gray, and made plans for a base at Mirs Bay, 30 miles distant in Chinese waters, where he would be less troubled by neutrality rules in time of war. On April 22 the Baltimore arrived from San Francisco with much-needed ammunition. On the 27th Consul Williams joined with latest news of preparations at Manila, and that afternoon the squadron put to sea.

On the morning of the 30th it was off Luzon, and two ships scouted Subig Bay, which the enemy had left only 24 hours before. At 12 that night Dewey took his squadron in column through the entrance to Manila Bay, just as he had steamed past the forts on the Mississippi with Farragut 35 years before. Only three shots were fired by the guns on shore. The thoroughness of Dewey's preparations, the rapidity of his movements up to this point, and his daring passage through a channel which he had reason to believe strongly defended by mines and shore batteries are the just titles of his fame. The entrance to Manila is indeed 10 miles wide and divided into separate channels by the islands Corregidor, Caballo, and El Fraile. The less frequented channel chosen was, as Dewey rightly judged, too deep for mining except by experts. Yet the Spanish had news of his approach the day before; they had 17 guns, including 6 modern rifles, on the islands guarding the entrance; they had plenty of gunboats that might have been fitted out as torpedo launches for night attack. It does not detract from the American officer's accomplishment that he drew no false picture of the obstacles with which he had to deal.

At daybreak next morning, having covered slowly the 24 miles from the mouth of the bay up to Manila, the American ships advanced past the city to attack the Spanish flotilla drawn up under the Cavite batteries 6 miles beyond. Here was what an American officer described as "a collection of old tubs scarcely fit to be called men-of-war." The most serviceable was Admiral Montojo's flagship Reina Cristina, an unarmored cruiser of 3500 tons; the remaining half dozen were older ships of both wood and iron, some of them not able to get under way. They mounted 31 guns above 4-inch to the Americans' 53. More serious in prospect, though not in reality, was the danger from shore batteries and mines. The United States vessels approached in column, led by the Olympia, which opened fire at 5.40. In the words of Admiral Dewey's report, "The squadron maintained a continuous and precise fire at ranges varying from 5000 to 2000 yards, countermarching in a line approximately parallel to that of the Spanish fleet. The enemy's fire was vigorous, but generally ineffective. Three runs were made from the eastward and three from the westward, so that both broadsides were brought to bear." One torpedo launch which dashed out was sunk and another driven ashore. The Cristina moved out as if to ram, but staggered back under the Olympia's concentrated fire. At 7.35, owing to a mistaken report that only 15 rounds of ammunition were left for the 5-inch guns, the American squadron retired temporarily, but renewed action at 11.16 and ended it an hour later, when the batteries were silenced and "every enemy ship sunk, burned or deserted."



As reported by Admiral Montojo, the Spanish lost 381 men. The American ships were hit only 15 times and had 7 men slightly injured. Volume and accuracy of gunfire won the day. Somewhat extravagant language has been used in describing the battle, which, whatever the perils that might naturally have been expected, was a most one-sided affair. But it is less easy to overpraise Admiral Dewey's energetic and aggressive handling of the entire campaign.

Manila thereafter lay helpless under the guns of the squadron, and upon the arrival and landing of troops surrendered on August 13, after a merely formal defense. In the interim, Spain sent out a relief force under Admiral Camara consisting of the Pelaya, Carlos V and other smaller units, before encountering which Dewey planned to leave Manila and await the arrival of two monitors then on their way from San Francisco. After getting through the Suez Canal, Camara was brought back (July 8) by an American threat against the coast of Spain.

Soon after the battle a number of foreign warships congregated at Manila, including 5 German ships under Admiral von Diedrichs, a force superior to Dewey's, and apparently bent on learning by persistent contravention all the rules of a blockaded port. The message finally sent to the German Admiral is reticently described by Dewey himself, but is said to have been to the effect that, if the German admiral wanted a fight, "he could have it right now." On the day of the surrender of Manila the British and the Japanese ships in the harbor took a position between the American and the German squadrons. This was just after the seizure of Kiao-chau, at a time when Germany was vigorously pushing out for "a place in the sun." But for the American commander's quiet yet firm stand, with British support, the United States might have encountered more serious complications in taking over 127,000 square miles of archipelago in the eastern world, with important trade interests, a lively insurrection, and a population of 7 million.

The Santiago Campaign

In the Atlantic, where it was the American policy not to carry their offensive beyond Spain's West Indies possessions, events moved more slowly. Rear Admiral Sicard, in command of the North Atlantic squadron based on Key West, was retired in March for physical disability and succeeded by William T. Sampson, who stepped up naturally from senior captain in the squadron and was already distinguished for executive ability and knowledge of ordnance. Sampson's first proposal was, in the event of hostilities, a bombardment of Havana, a plan approved by all his captains and showing a confidence inspired perhaps by coastal operations in the Civil War; but this was properly vetoed by the Department on the ground that no ships should be risked against shore defenses until they had struck at the enemy's naval force and secured control of the sea. An earlier memorandum from Secretary Long, outlining plans for a blockade of Cuba, had been based on suggestions from Rear Admiral (then Captain) Mahan,[1] and his strategic insight may have guided this decision. On April 22, Sampson, now acting rear admiral, placed his force off Havana and established a close blockade over 100 miles on the northern coast.

[Footnote 1: Goode, WITH SAMPSON THROUGH THE WAR, p. 19.]

The problem for American strategy was now Cervera's "fleet in being,"—inferior in force but a menace until destroyed or put out of action—which, as before stated, left the Cape Verde Islands on April 29, for a destination unknown. A bombardment of cities on the American coast or a raid on the North Atlantic trade routes was within the realm of possibilities. Difficulties of coaling and an inveterate tendency to leave the initiative to the enemy decided the Spanish against such a project. But its bare possibility set the whole east coast in a panic, which has been much ridiculed, but which arose naturally enough from a complete lack of instruction in naval matters and from lack of a sensible control of the press. The result was an unfortunate division of the fleet. A so-called Flying squadron under Commodore Schley, consisting of the Brooklyn, Massachusetts, Texas, and 3 small cruisers, was held at Hampton Roads; whereas, if not thus employed, these ships might have blockaded the south side of Cuba from the beginning of the war. A northern patrol squadron, of vessels not of much use for this or any other purpose, was also organized to guard the coast from Hampton Roads north.

On May 4, with Cervera still at large, Sampson lifted his guard of Havana—unwisely in the opinion of Mahan—and took his best ships, the New York, Indiana, Iowa, and two monitors, to reconnoiter San Juan, Porto Rico, where it was thought the missing fleet might first appear. Just as he was bombarding San Juan, on the morning of May 12, the Navy Department received a cable from Martinique announcing Cervera's arrival there. Havana and Cienfuegos (on the south side of Cuba and connected with Havana by rail) were considered the only two ports where the Spanish fleet could be of value to the forces on the island; and from these two ports both American squadrons were at this time a thousand miles away. Schley hastened southward, left Key West on the 19th, and was off Cienfuegos by daylight on the 21st. It was fairly quick work; but had the Spanish fleet moved thither at its usual speed of 6 knots from its last stopping-place, it would have got there first by at least 12 hours. The Spanish admiral, finding no coal at Martinique, had left a crippled destroyer there and moved on to the Dutch island of Curacao, where on the 14th and 15th he secured with difficulty about 500 tons of fuel. Thence, in all anxiety, he made straight for the nearest possible refuge, Santiago, where he put in at daybreak on the 19th and was soon receiving congratulations on the completion of a successful cruise.



By the next day Sampson, having hurried back from San Juan and coaled, was again in force off Havana. There he received news of Cervera's arrival in Santiago. Since Havana could not be uncovered, he sent instructions to Schley—at first discretionary, and then, as the reports were confirmed, more imperative—to blockade the eastern port. Though the commander of the Flying Squadron received the latter orders on the 23d, he had seen smoke in Cienfuegos harbor and still believed he had Cervera cornered there. Accordingly he delayed until evening of the next day. Then, after reaching Santiago, he cabled on the 27th that he was returning to Key West to coal, though he had a collier with him and stringent orders to the contrary; and it was not until the 29th that he actually established the Santiago Blockade. Sampson, his superior in command (though not his senior in the captains' list), later declared his conduct at this time "reprehensible"[1]—possibly too harsh a term, for the circumstances tried judgment and leadership in the extreme. Cervera found Santiago destitute of facilities for refitting. Yet the fact remains that he had 10 days in which to coal and get away. "We cannot," writes Admiral Mahan, "expect ever again to have an enemy so inept as Spain showed herself to be."[1*]

[Footnote 1: Letter to Secretary, July 10, 1898, SAMPSON-SCHLEY DOCUMENTS, p. 136: "Had the commodore left his station at that time he probably would have been court-martialed, so plain was his duty.... This reprehensible conduct I cannot separate from his subsequent conduct, and for this reason I ask you to do him ample justice on this occasion." A court of inquiry later decided that Commodore Schley's service up to June 1 was characterized by "vacillation, dilatoriness, and lack of enterprise."]

[Footnote 1*: LESSONS OF THE WAR WITH SPAIN, p. 157.]

The "bottling up" of Cervera cleared the situation, and the navy could now concentrate on a task still difficult but well defined. Sampson brought his force to Santiago on June 1, and assumed immediate command. A close blockade was instituted such as against adequate torpedo and mine defenses would have been highly dangerous even at that day. Three picket launches were placed about a mile off shore, three small vessels a mile further out, and beyond these the 5 or 6 major units, under steam and headed toward the entrance in a carefully planned disposition to meet any attempt at escape. At night a battleship stood in and played its searchlight directly on the mouth of the channel. The latter was six miles in length, with difficult turns, and at the narrowest point only 300 feet wide. Lieut. Hobson's gallant effort on June 3 to sink the collier Merrimac across the channel had made its navigation even more difficult, though the vessel did not lie athwart-stream. Mine barriers and batteries on the high hills at the harbor mouth prevented forcing the channel, but the guns were mostly of ancient type and failed to keep the ships at a distance. On the other hand, bombardments from the latter did little more than to afford useful target practice.

The despatch of troops to Santiago was at once decided upon, and the subsequent campaign, if it could be fully studied, would afford interesting lessons in combined operations. On June 22, 16,000 men under General Shafter landed at Daiquiri, 15 miles east of Santiago, in 52 boats provided by the fleet, though the War Department had previously stated that the general would "land his own troops."[2] "It was done in a scramble," writes Col. Roosevelt; and there was great difficulty in getting the skippers of army transports to bring their vessels within reasonable distance of the shore. Since the sole object of the campaign was to get at and destroy the enemy fleet, the navy fully expected and understood that the army would make its first aim to advance along the coast and capture the batteries at the entrance, so that the mines could be lifted and the harbor forced. Army authorities declare this would have involved division of forces on both sides of the channel and impossibilities of transportation due to lack of roads. But these difficulties applied also in a measure to the defenders, and might perhaps have been surmounted by full use of naval aid.

[Footnote 2: Goode, WITH SAMPSON THROUGH THE WAR, p. 182.]

Instead, the army set out with some confidence to capture the city itself. El Caney and San Juan Hill were seized on July 2 after a bloody struggle in which the Spanish stuck to their defenses heroically and inflicted 1600 casualties. By their own figures the Spanish on this day had only 1700 men engaged, though there were 36,500 Spanish troops in the province and 12,000 near at hand. In considerable discouragement, Shafter now spoke of withdrawal, and urged Sampson "immediately to force the entrance"[1]—in spite of the fact that the main purpose in sending troops had been to avoid this very measure. In view of threatening foreign complications and the impossibility of replacing battleships, it was imperative not to risk them against mines.

[Footnote 1: Ibid., p. 190.]

Food conditions were serious in Santiago, but Cervera was absolutely determined not to assume responsibility for taking his fleet out to what he regarded as certain slaughter. A night sortie, with ships issuing one by one out of an intricate channel into the glare of searchlights, he declared more difficult than one by day. Fortunately for the Americans, in view of the situation ashore, the decision was taken out of his hands, and Governor General Blanco from Havana peremptorily ordered him to put to sea. The time of his exit, Sunday morning, July 3, was luckily chosen, for Sampson, in the New York, was 10 miles to eastward on his way to a conference with Shafter, and the Massachusetts was at Guantanamo for coal. The flagship Maria Teresa led out at 9.35, followed 10 minutes later by the Vizcaya, and then by the Colon, Oquendo, and the destroyers Furor and Pluton, each turning westward at top speed.



Simultaneously the big blockaders crowded toward them and opened a heavy fire, while stokers shoveled desperately below to get up steam. To the surprise of other vessels, Schley's ship, the Brooklyn, after heading towards the entrance, swung round, not with the enemy, but to starboard, just sliding past the Texas' bow. This much discussed maneuver Schley afterward explained as made to avoid blanketing the fire of the rest of the squadron. The Oregon, which throughout the blockade had kept plenty of steam, "rushed past the Iowa," in the words of Captain Robley Evans, "like an express train," in a cloud of smoke lighted by vicious flashes from her guns. In ten minutes the Maria Teresa turned for shore, hit by 30 projectiles, her decks, encumbered with woodwork, bursting into masses of flame. The concentration upon her at the beginning had shifted to the Oquendo in the rear, which ran ashore with guns silenced 5 minutes after the leader.

Shortly before 11, the Vizcaya, with a torpedo ready in one of her bow tubes, turned towards the Brooklyn, which had kept in the lead of the American ships. A shell hitting squarely in the Vizcaya's bow caused a heavy explosion and she sheered away, the guns of the Brooklyn, Oregon, and Iowa bearing on her as she ran towards the beach. The Colon, with a trial speed of 20 knots, and 6 miles ahead of the Brooklyn and Oregon, appeared to stand a good chance of getting finally away. The New York, rushing back toward the battle, was still well astern. But the Colon's speed, which had averaged 13.7 knots, slackened as her fire-room force played out; and shortly after 1 p.m. she ran shoreward, opened her Kingston valves, and went down after surrender. She had been hit only 6 times.

In the first stage of the fight the little yacht Gloucester, under Lieutenant Commander Wainwright, had dashed pluckily upon the two destroyers, which were also under fire from the secondary batteries of the big ships. The Furor was sunk and the Pluton driven ashore.

There is hardly a record in naval history of such complete destruction. Of 2300 Spaniards, 1800 were rescued as prisoners from the burning wrecks or from the Cuban guerillas on shore, 350 met their death, and the rest escaped towards Santiago. The American loss consisted of one man killed and one wounded on the Brooklyn. This ship, which owing to its leading position had been the chief enemy target, received 20 hits from shells or fragments, and the other vessels altogether about as many more. An examination of the half-sunken and fire-scarred Spanish hulks showed 42 hits out of 1300 rounds from the American main batteries, or 3.2 per cent, and 73 from secondary batteries. Probably these figures should be doubled to give the actual number, but even so they revealed the need of improvement in gunnery.

Sampson was right when he stated earlier in the campaign that the destruction of the Spanish fleet would end the war. Santiago surrendered a fortnight later without further fighting. An expeditionary force under General Miles made an easy conquest of Puerto Rico. On August 12, a protocol of peace was signed, by the terms of which the United States took over Puerto Rico, Guam, and the Philippines (upon payment of 20 million dollars), and Cuba became independent under American protection. The war greatly strengthened the position of the United States in the Caribbean, and gave her new interests and responsibilities in the Pacific. In the possession of distant dependencies the nation found a new motive for increased naval protection and for more active concern in international affairs.

2. THE RUSSO-JAPANESE WAR

At the time when the United States acquired the Philippines, the Far East was a storm center of international disturbance. Russia, with the support of Germany and France, had, as already noted, combined to prevent Japan from fully exploiting her victory over China. The latter country, however, had every appearance of a melon ripe for cutting; and under guise of security for loans, indemnity for injuries, railroad and treaty-port concessions, and special spheres of influence, each European nation endeavored to mark out its prospective share. Russia, in return for protecting China against Japan, gained a short-cut for her Siberian Railway across Northern Manchuria, with rail and mining concessions in that province and prospects of getting hold of both Port Arthur and Kiao-chau. But, at an opportune moment for Germany, two German missionaries were murdered in 1897 by Chinese bandits. Germany at once seized Kiao-chau, and in March, 1898, extorted a 99-year lease of the port, with exclusive development privileges throughout the peninsula of Shantung. "The German Michael," as Kaiser Wilhelm said at a banquet on the departure of his fleet to the East, had "firmly planted his shield upon Chinese soil"; and "the gospel of His Majesty's hallowed person," as Admiral Prince Heinrich asserted in reply, "was to be preached to every one who will hear it and also to those who do not wish to hear." "Our establishment on the coast of China," writes ex-Chancellor van Buelow, "was in direct and immediate connection with the progress of the fleet, and a first step into the field of world politics... giving us a place in the sun in Eastern Asia."[1]

[Footnote 1: From London Spectator, Dec. 26, 1897, quoted in Morse, INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS OF THE CHINESE EMPIRE, Vol. III, p. 108.]



Thus forestalled at Kiao-chau, Russia at once pushed through a 25-year lease of Port Arthur, and proceeded to strengthen it as a fortified port and naval base. England, though preoccupied with the Boer War, took Wei-hai-wai as a precautionary measure, "for as long a time as Port Arthur shall remain a possession of Russia."[1] France secured a new base in southern China on Kwang-chau Bay, and Italy tried likewise but failed. Aroused by the foreign menace, the feeling of the Chinese masses burst forth in the summer of 1900 in the massacres and uprisings known as the Boxer Rebellion. In the combined expedition to relieve the legations at Peking Japanese troops displayed superior deftness, discipline, and endurance, and gained confidence in their ability to cope with the armies of European powers.

[Footnote 1: Ibid., III, 118.]

In the period following, Germany in Shantung and Russia in Manchuria pursued steadily their policy of exploitation. Against it, the American Secretary of State John Hay advanced the policy of the Open Door, "to preserve Chinese territorial and administrative entity... and safeguard for the world the principle of equal and impartial trade with all parts of the Chinese Empire."[1] To this the powers gave merely lip-service, realizing that her fixed policy of isolation would restrain the United States from either diplomatic combinations or force. "The open hand," wrote Hay in discouragement, "will not be so convincing to the poor devils of Chinese as the raised club,"[2] nor was it so efficacious in dealing with other nations concerned. Japan, however, had strained every energy to build up her army and navy for a conflict that seemed inevitable, and was ready to back her opposition to European advances by force if need be. In 1902 she protected herself against a combination of foes by defensive alliance with England. She demanded that Russia take her troops out of Manchuria and recognize Japanese predominance in Korea. Russia hoped to forestall hostilities until she could further strengthen her army and fleet in the East, but when the transfer of ships reached the danger point, Japan declared war, February 8, 1904, and struck viciously that same night.

[Footnote 1: NOTE TO THE EUROPEAN POWERS, July 3, 1900.]

[Footnote 2: Thayer, LIFE OF HAY, II, 369.]

As in the Spanish-American War, control of the sea was vital, since Japan must depend upon it to move her troops to the continental theater of war. Nor could she hold her army passive while awaiting the issue of a struggle for sea control. Delay would put a greater relative strain on her finances, and give Russia, handicapped by long communications over the single-track Siberian Railway, a better chance to mass in the East her troops and supplies. Japan's plan was therefore to strike hard for naval advantage, but to begin at once, in any event, the movement of troops overseas. At the outbreak of war her fleet of 6 battleships and 6 armored cruisers, with light cruiser and destroyer flotillas, was assembled at Sasebo near the Straits of Tsushima, thoroughly organized for fighting and imbued with the spirit of war. Japan had an appreciable naval superiority, but was handicapped by the task of protecting her transports and by the necessity—which she felt keenly—of avoiding losses in battle which would leave her helpless upon the possible advent of Russia's Baltic reserves.

Russia's main naval strength in the East consisted of 7 battleships and 3 armored cruisers, presenting a combined broadside of 100 guns against Japan's 124. The support of the Black Sea fleet was denied by the attitude of England, which would prevent violation of the agreement restricting it from passing the Dardanelles. The Baltic fleet, however, was an important though distant reserve force, a detachment from which was actually in the Red Sea on its way east at the outbreak of war.

Just as clearly as it was Japan's policy to force the fighting on land, so it should have been Russia's to prevent Japan's movement of troops by aggressive action at sea. This called for concentration of force and concentration of purpose. But neither was evident in the Russian plan of campaign, which betrayed confusion of thought and a traditional leaning toward the defensive—acceptance on the one hand of what has been called "fortress fleet" doctrine, that fleets exist to protect bases and can serve this purpose by being shut up in them; and on the other hand of exaggerated "fleet in being" theory, that the mere presence of the Russian fleet, though inactive, would prevent Japan's use of the sea. Thus in October, 1903, Witjeft, chief of the Port Arthur naval staff, declared that a landing of Japanese troops either in the Liao-tung or the Korean Gulf was "impossible so long as our fleet is not destroyed." Just as Russia's total force was divided between east and west, so her eastern force was divided between Vladivostok and Port Arthur, with the Japanese in central position between. Three armored cruisers were in the northern port, and 7 battleships in the other; and all Russia's efforts after war broke out were vainly directed toward remedying this faulty disposition before it began. The whole Russian fleet in the East, moreover, was, it is said, badly demoralized and unready for war, owing chiefly to bureaucratic corruption and to the fact that not merely its strategical direction but its actual command was vested in the Viceroy, Alexieff, with headquarters on shore.

Operations Around Port Arthur

On January 3, 1904, Japan presented practically an ultimatum; on February 6 broke off diplomatic relations; on February 8 declared war; and on the same night—just as the Czar was discussing with his council what should be done—she delivered her first blow. By extraordinary laxity, though the diplomatic rupture was known, the Port Arthur squadron remained in the outer anchorage, "with all lights burning, without torpedo nets out, and without any guard vessels."[1] Ten Japanese destroyers attacked at close quarters, fired 18 torpedoes, and put the battleship Tsarevitch and two cruisers out of action for two months. It was only poor torpedo work, apparently, that saved the whole fleet from destruction. A Russian light cruiser left isolated at Chemulpa was destroyed the next day. The transportation of troops to Korea and Southern Manchuria was at once begun. Though not locked in by close blockade, and not seriously injured by the frequent Japanese raids, bombardments, and efforts to block the harbor entrance, the Port Arthur squadron made no move to interfere.

[Footnote 1: Semenoff, RASPLATA, p. 45.]

Both fleets suffered from mines. Vice Admiral Makaroff, Russia's foremost naval leader, who took command at Port Arthur in March, went down with the Petropavlosk on April 13, when his ship struck a mine laid by the Japanese. On May 14, on the other hand, the Russian mine-layer Amur slipped out in a fog, spread her mines in the usual path of Japanese vessels off the port, and thus on the same day sank two of their best ships, the Hatsuse and Yashima. Mining, mine-sweeping, an uneventful Russian sortie an June 23, progress of Japanese land forces down the peninsula and close investment of Port Arthur—this was the course of events down to the final effort of the Russian squadron on August 10.



By this time Japanese siege guns were actually reaching ships in the harbor. Action of any kind, especially if it involved some injury to the enemy navy, was better than staying to be shot to pieces from the shore. Yet Makaroff's successor, Witjeft, painfully and consciously unequal to his responsibilities, still opposed an exit, and left port only upon imperative orders from above. Scarcely was the fleet an hour outside when Togo appeared on the scene. The forces in the Battle of August 10 consisted of 6 Russian battleships and 4 cruisers, against 6 Japanese armored vessels and 9 cruisers; the combined large-caliber broadsides of the armored ships being 73 to 52, and of the cruisers 55 to 21, in favor of Togo's squadron. In spite of this superiority in armament, and of fully a knot in speed, Togo hesitated to close to decisive range. Five hours or more of complicated maneuvering ensued, during which both squadrons kept at "long bowls," now passing each other, now defiling across van or rear, without marked advantage for either side.

At last, at 5.40 p.m., the Japanese got in a lucky blow. Two 12-inch shells struck the flagship Tsarevitch, killing Admiral Witjeft, jamming the helm to starboard, and thus serving to throw the whole Russian line into confusion. Togo now closed to 3000 yards, but growing darkness enabled his quarry to escape. The battle in fact was less one-sided than the later engagement at Tsushima. On both sides the percentage of hits was low, about 1% for the Russians and 6 or 7% for their opponents. Togo's flagship Mikasa was hit 30 times and lost 125 men; the total Japanese loss was about half that of the enemy—236 to 478.

Much might still have been gained, in view of the future coming of the Baltic fleet, had the Russians still persisted in pressing onward for Vladivostok; but owing to loss of their leader and ignorance of the general plan, they scattered. The cruiser Novik was caught and sunk, another cruiser was interned at Shanghai, a third at Saigon, and the Tsarevitch at Kiao-chau. The rest, including 5 of the 6 battleships, fled back into the Port Arthur death-trap. Largely in order to complete their destruction, the Japanese sacrificed 60,000 men in desperate assaults on the fortress, which surrendered January 2, 1905. As at Santiago, the necessity of saving battleships, less easily replaced, led the Japanese to the cheaper expenditure of men.

On news of the Port Arthur sortie, the Vladivostok squadron, which hitherto had made only a few more or less futile raids on Japanese shipping, advanced toward Tsushima Straits, and met there at dawn of August 14 a slightly superior force of 4 cruisers under Kamimura. The better shooting of the Japanese soon drove the slowest Russian ship, the Rurik, out of line; the other two, after a plucky fight, managed to get away, with hulls and funnels riddled by enemy shells.

The complete annulment of Russia's eastern fleet in this first stage of hostilities had enabled Japan to profit fully by her easier communications to the scene of war. Its final destruction with the fall of Port Arthur gave assurance of victory. The decisive battle of Mukden was fought in March, 1905. Close to their bases, trained to the last degree, inspired by success, the Japanese navy could now face with confidence the approach of Russia's last fleet.

Rojdestvensky's Cruise

After a series of accidents and delays, the Baltic fleet under Admiral Rojdestvensky—8 battleships, 5 cruisers, 8 destroyers, and numerous auxiliaries—left Libau Oct. 18, 1904, on its 18,000-mile cruise. Off the Dogger Bank in the North Sea, the ships fired into English trawlers under the impression that they were enemy torpedo craft, and thus nearly stirred England to war. Off Tangier some of the lighter vessels separated to pass by way of Suez, and a third division from Russia followed a little later by the same route. Hamburg-American colliers helped Rojdestvensky solve his logistical problem on the long voyage round Africa, and German authorities stretched neutrality rules upon his arrival in Wahlfish Bay, for the engrossment of Russia in eastern adventures was cheerfully encouraged by the neighbor on her southern frontier. France also did her best to be of service to the fleet of her ally, though she had "paired off" with England to remain neutral in the war.

With the reunion of the Russian divisions at Nossi Be, Madagascar, January 9, 1905, came news of the fall of Port Arthur. The home government now concluded to despatch the fag-ends of its navy, though Rojdestvensky would have preferred to push ahead without waiting for such "superfluous encumbrances" to join. Ships, as his staff officer Semenoff afterward wrote, were needed, but not "old flatirons and galoshes"; guns, but not "holes surrounded by iron."[1] After a tedious 10 weeks' delay in tropical waters, the fleet moved on to French Indo-China, where, after another month of waiting, the last division under Nebogatoff finally joined—a slow old battleship, 3 coast defense ironclads, and a cruiser. Upon these, Rojdestvensky's officers vented their vocabulary of invective, in which "war junk" and "auto-sinkers" were favorite terms.

[Footnote 1: RASPLATA, p. 426.]

Having already accomplished almost the impossible, the armada of 50 units on May 14 set forth on the last stage of its extraordinary cruise. Of three possible routes to Vladivostok—through the Tsugaru Strait between Nippon and Yezo, through the Strait of La Perouse north of Yezo, or through the Straits of Tsushima—the first was ruled out as too difficult of navigation; the second, because it would involve coaling off the coast of Japan. Tsushima remained. To avoid torpedo attack, the Russian admiral planned to pass the straits by day, and fully expected battle. But the hope lingered in his mind that fog or heavy weather might enable him to pass unscathed. He had been informed that owing to traffic conditions on the Siberian railway, he could get nothing at Vladivostok in the way of supplies. Hence, as a compromise measure which weakened fighting efficiency, he took along 3 auxiliary steamers, a repair ship, 2 tugs, and 2 hospital ships, the rest of the train on May 25 entering Shanghai; and he so filled the bunkers and piled even the decks with fuel, according to Nebogatoff's later testimony, that they went into action burdened with coal for 3,000 miles.[2]

[Footnote 2: Mahan, NAVAL STRATEGY, p. 412.]



The main Russian fighting force entered the battle in three divisions of 4 ships each: (1) the Suvaroff (flagship), Alexander III, Borodino and Orel, each a new battleship of about 13,600 tons; (2) the Ossliabya, a slightly smaller battleship, and three armored cruisers; (3) Nebogatoff's division as given above, with the exception of the cruiser. Then there was a squadron of 4 smaller cruisers, 4 other cruisers as scouts, and 9 destroyers. The Japanese engaged in two main divisions of 6 ships each (4 battleships and 8 armored cruisers), backed by four light cruiser divisions of 4 ships each. The Russian line had the advantage in heavy ordnance, as will appear from the following table, but this was more than compensated for by the enemy's superiority in 8-inch guns and quick-firers, which covered the Russians with an overwhelming rain of shells. Of guns in broadside, the Japanese ships-of-the-line had 127 to 98; and the cruisers 89 to 43.

MAIN BATTERIES Q.F. - Ships 12" 10" 9" 8" 6" 4.7" - - - - - Japan 12 16 1 30 160 Russia 12 26 15 4 3 90 20

On the basis of these figures, and the 50% superiority of the Japanese in speed, the issue could hardly be in doubt. Admiral Togo, moreover, had commanded his fleet in peace and war for 8 years, and had veteran subordinates on whom he could depend to lead their divisions independently yet in coordination with the general plan. Constant training and target practice had brought his crews to a high degree of skill. The Japanese shells were also superior, with fuses that detonated their charges on the slightest contact with an explosive force like that of mines. Between the enemy and their base, the Japanese could wait quietly in home waters, while the Russian fleet was worn out by its eight months' cruise. At best, the latter was a heterogeneous assemblage of new ships hastily completed and old ships indifferently put in repair, which since Nebogatoff joined had had but one opportunity for maneuvers and had operated as a unit for only 13 days.

On the night of May 26-27, as the Russian ships approached Tsushima through mist and darkness, half the officers and men were at their posts, while the rest slept beside the guns. Fragments of wireless messages—"Last night" ... "nothing" ... "eleven lights" ... "but not in line"—revealed enemy patrols in the waters beyond. Semenoff on the Suvaroff describes vividly "the tall, somewhat bent figure of the Admiral on the side of the bridge, the wrinkled face of the man at the wheel stooping over the compass, the guns' crews chilled at their posts." In the brightly lighted engine-rooms, "life and movement was visible on all sides; men were nimbly running up and down ladders; there was a tinkling of bells and buzzing of voices; orders were being transmitted loudly; but, on looking more intently, the tension and anxiety—that same peculiar frame of mind so noticeable on deck—could also be observed."[1]

[Footnote 1: THE BATTLE OF TSUSHIMA, p. 28.]

The Battle of Tsushima

At dawn (4.45) the Japanese scout Sinano Maru, which for an hour or more had been following in the darkness, made them out clearly and communicated the intelligence at once to Togo in his base at Masampho Bay, on the Korean side of the straits, and to the cruiser divisions off the Tsushima Islands. This was apparently the first definite news that Togo had received for several days, and the fact suggests that his scouting arrangements were not above criticism, for it took fast steaming to get to the straits by noon. Cruiser divisions were soon circling towards the Russians through the mist and darting as swiftly away, first the 5th and 6th under Takeomi and Togo (son of the admiral), then the 3d under Dewa, all reporting the movements of the enemy fleet and shepherding it till the final action began. Troubled by their activity, Rojdestvensky made several shifts of formation, first placing his 1st and 2d divisions in one long column ahead of the 3d, then at 11.20 throwing the 1st division again to starboard, while the cruisers protected the auxiliaries which were steaming between the lines in the rear.

This was the disposition when, shortly after one o'clock, the Japanese main divisions appeared to northward about 7 miles distant, steaming on a westerly course across the enemy's bows. Since morning Togo had covered a distance of 90 miles. From his signal yards fluttered the stirring message: "The fate of the empire depends upon to-day's battle. Let every man do his utmost." Ordering all his cruisers to circle to the Russian rear, and striking himself for their left flank, which at the moment was the weaker, Togo first turned southward as if to pass on opposite courses, and then at about two o'clock led his two divisions around to east-northeast, so as to "cross the T" upon the head of the enemy line.



Just as Togo's flagship Mikasa straightened on her new course, nearly north of the Suvaroff, and 6400 yards distant, the Suvaroff opened fire. It has been suggested that at this critical moment the Russian admiral should have closed with the enemy, or, leading his ships on a northwesterly course, laid his starboard broadsides on the knuckle formed by the Japanese turn. But the position of the enemy cruisers and destroyers, and worry over his transports, guided his movements. Moreover, he had not yet completed an awkwardly executed maneuver to get his ships back into single column with the 1st division ahead. The Ossliabya and other ships of the 2d division were thrown into confusion, and forced to slow down and even stop engines. Under these difficulties, the Suvaroff sheered more to eastward. As they completed their turn the Japanese secured a "capping" position and could concentrate on the leading ships of both the 1st and the 2d Russian divisions, 4 ships on the Suvaroff and 7 on the Ossliabya. Under this terrible fire the Ossliabya went down, the first modern battleship (in the narrow sense of the word) ever sunk by gunfire, and the Suvaroff a few moments later fell out of line, torn by shells, her forward funnel down, and steering gear jammed. "She was so battered," wrote a Japanese observer, "that scarcely any one would have taken her for a ship."

With an advantage in speed of 15 knots to 9, the Japanese drew ahead. The Alexander, followed by other Russian ships in much confusion, about three o'clock made an effort to pass northward across the enemy rear, but they were countered by the Japanese first division turning west together and the 2d division in succession at 3.10. The first and decisive phase of the action thus ended. Both fleets eventually resumed easterly and then southerly courses, for considerable periods completely lost to each other in smoke and haze.

Plunging through heavy seas from the southwest, the Japanese cruisers had in the meantime punished the Russian rear less severely than might have been expected. Two transports went down in flames, two cruisers were badly damaged, and the high-sided ex-German liner Ural was punctured with shells. On the other hand, Dewa's flagship Kasagi was driven to port with a bad hole under water, and Toga's old ship Naniwa Kan had to cease action for repairs. Hits and losses in fact were considerable in both the main and the cruiser divisions of the Japanese, their total casualties numbering 465. Late in the afternoon the Russian destroyer Buiny came up to the wreck of the Suvaroff, and lurched alongside long enough for Rojdestvensky, wounded and almost unconscious, to be practically thrown on board. He was captured with the destroyer next day. In spite of her injuries, the Suvaroff held off a swarm of cruisers and destroyers until at last torpedoed at 7.20 p. m.

The Russian battleships had meanwhile described a large circle to southward, and at 5 p. m. were again steaming north, accompanied by some of their cruisers and train. Attacked once more between 6 and 7 o'clock, and almost incapable of defense, the Alexander III and Borodino went down, making 4 ships lost out of the 5 new vessels that had formed the backbone of Rojdestvensky's forces. In the gathering darkness. Nebogatoff collected the survivors and staggered northward.

Of slight value in the day engagement, 21 Japanese destroyers, with about 40 torpedo boats which had sheltered under Tsushima Island, now darted after the fleeing foe. In the fog and heavy weather they were almost as great a menace to each other as to the enemy. Russian ships without searchlights escaped harm. Of three or perhaps four Russian vessels struck, all but the Navarin stayed afloat until the next day. Admiral Custance estimates 8 hits, or 9% of the torpedoes fired. There were at least 6 collisions among the flotillas, and 4 boats destroyed.

On the morning of the 28th the remains of the Russian fleet were scattered over the sea. Nebagatoff with 4 battleships and 2 cruisers surrendered at 10.30. Of the 37 ships all told that entered Tsushima Straits, only the following escaped: the cruisers Oleg, Aurora, and Jemschug reached Manila on June 3; a tug and a supply ship entered Shanghai, and another transport with plenty of coal went clear to Madagascar; only the fast cruiser Almaz and two destroyers made Vladivostok.

Among the lessons to be drawn from Tsushima, one of the clearest is the weakening effect of divided purpose. With all honor to Admiral Rojdestvensky for his courage and persistence during his cruise, it is evident that at the end he allowed the supply problem to interfere with his preparations for battle, and that he fought "with one eye on Vladivostok." It is evident also that only by a long period of training and operating as a unit can a collection of ships and men be welded into an effective fighting force. Torpedo results throughout the war, whether due to faulty materials or unskilled employment, were not such as to increase the reliance upon this weapon. The gun retained its supremacy; and the demonstrated advantage conferred by speed and heavy armament in long range fighting was reflected in the "all-big-gun" Dreadnought of 1906 and the battle cruisers of 1908.

Immediately after the Russian navy had been swept out of existence, President Roosevelt offered to mediate, and received favorable replies from the warring nations. By the treaty signed at Portsmouth, New Hampshire, on September 5, 1905, Russia withdrew from Manchuria in favor of China, recognized Japan's paramount position in Korea (annexed by Japan in 1910), and surrendered to Japan her privileges in Port Arthur and the Liao-tung Peninsula. In lieu of indemnity, Japan after a long deadlock was induced by pressure on the part of England and the United States to accept that portion of the island of Saghalien south of the parallel of 50 deg.. Thus the war thwarted Russia's policy of aggressive imperialism in the East, and established Japan firmly on the mainland at China's front door. At the same time, by the military debacle of Russia, it dangerously disturbed the balance of power in Europe, upon which the safety of that continent had long been made precariously to depend.

REFERENCES

Spanish-American War

NOTES ON THE SPANISH AMERICAN WAR (a series of publications issued by the Office of Naval Intelligence, U. S. Navy Department, 1900). SAMPSON-SCHLEY OFFICIAL COMMUNICATIONS TO THE U. S. SENATE, Gov't Printing Office, 1899. THE DOWNFALL OF SPAIN, H. W. Wilson, 1900. WITH SAMPSON THROUGH THE WAR, W. A. M. Goode, 1899. A HISTORY OF THE SPANISH-AMERICAN WAR, R. H. Tetherington, 1900.

Russo-Japanese War

INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS OF THE CHINESE EMPIRE, 3 vols., H. B. Morse, 1918. THE BATTLE OF TSUSHIMA (1906), RASPLATA (1910), Captain Vladimir Semenoff. JAPANESE OFFICIAL HISTORY, translated in U. S. Naval Institute Proceedings, July-August, September-October, 1914. THE SHIP OF THE LINE IN BATTLE, Admiral Reginald Custance, 1912. THE RUSSIAN NAVY IN THE RUSSO-JAPANESE WAR, Captain N. Klado, 1905. OFFICIAL BRITISH HISTORY OF THE RUSSO-JAPANESE WAR, 3 vols., 1910. THE AMERICAN MERCHANT MARINE, Debaters' Handbook Series, N. Y., 1916 (with bibliography).



CHAPTER XVI

THE WORLD WAR: THE FIRST YEAR (1914-1915)

The Russo-Japanese war greatly weakened Russia's position in Europe, and left the Dual Alliance of France and Russia overweighted by the military strength of the Teutonic Empires, Germany and Austria, whether or not Italy should adhere to the Triple Alliance with these nations. To Great Britain, such a disturbance of the European balance was ever a matter of grave concern, and an abandonment of her policy of isolation was in this instance virtually forced upon her by Germany's rivalry in her own special sphere of commerce and sea power.

The disturbing effect of Germany's naval growth during the two decades prior to 1914 affords in fact an excellent illustration of the influence of naval strength in peace as well as in war. Under Bismarck Germany had pushed vigorously though tardily into the colonial field, securing vast areas of rather doubtful value in East and West Africa, and the Bismarck Archipelago, Marshall Islands, and part of New Guinea in the Pacific. With the accession of William II in 1888 and the dropping of the pilot, Bismarck, two years later, she embarked definitely upon her quest for world power. The young Kaiser read eagerly Mahan's Influence of Sea Power Upon History (1890), distributed it among the ships of his still embryonic navy, and fed his ambition on the doctrines of this epoch-making work.

Naval development found further stimulus and justification in the rapid economic growth of Germany. In 1912 her industrial production attained a value of three billion dollars, as compared with slightly over four billion for England and seven billion for the United States. Since 1893 her merchant marine had tripled in size and taken second place to that of England with a total of over five million tons. During the same period she surpassed France and the United States in volume of foreign commerce, and in this respect also reached a position second to Great Britain, with a more rapid rate of increase. An emigration of 220,000 a year in the early eighties was cut down to 22,000 in 1900.[1] To assure markets for her manufactures, and continued growth in population and industry, Germany felt that she must strive to extend her political power.

[Footnote 1: Figures from Priest, GERMANY SINCE 1840, p. 150 ff.]

Though Germany's commercial expansion met slight opposition even in areas under British control, it undoubtedly justified measures of political and naval protection; and it was this motive that was advanced in the preface to the German Naval Bill of 1900, which declared that, "To protect her sea trade and colonies ... Germany must have a fleet so strong that a war, even with the greatest naval power, would involve such risks as to jeopardize the position of that power."[2] Furthermore, Germany's quest for colonies and points of vantage such as Kiao-chau, her scheme for a Berlin-Bagdad railroad with domination of the territories on the route, had parallel in the activities of other nations. Unfortunately, however, Germany's ambitions grew even more rapidly than her commerce, until her true aim appeared to be destruction of rivals and domination of the world.

[Footnote 2: Hurd and Castle, GERMAN SEA POWER, Appendix II.]

The seizure of Kiao-chau in 1897-98 coincided with the appointment of Admiral von Tirpitz as Imperial Minister of Marine. Under his administration, the Naval Bill of 1900, passed in a heat of anglophobia aroused by the Boer War, doubled the program of 1898, and contained ingenious provisions by which the Reichstag was bound to steady increases covering a long period of years, and by which the Navy Department was empowered to replace worthless old craft, after 20 or 25 years' service, with new ships of the largest size. As the armament race grew keener, this act was amended in the direction of further increases, but its program was never cut down.

International crises and realignments marked the growing tension of these years. In 1905 England extended for ten years her understanding with Japan. By the Entente Cordiale with France in 1904 and a later settlement of outstanding difficulties with Russia, she also practically changed the Dual Alliance into a Triple Entente, though without positively binding herself to assistance in war. To the agreement of 1904 by which England and France assured each other a free hand in Egypt and Morocco, respectively, the Kaiser raised strenuous objections, and forced the resignation of the anglophile French Foreign Minister, Delcasse; but at the Algeciras Convention of 1906, assembled to settle the Morocco question, Germany and Austria stood virtually alone. Even the American delegates, sent by President Roosevelt at the Kaiser's invitation, voted generally with the Western Powers. When Austria annexed Bosnia and Herzegovina in 1909, the Kaiser shook the mailed fist to better effect than at Algeciras, with the result that Russia had to accept this extension of Austro-German influence in the Balkan sphere. Still again two years later, when the German cruiser Panther made moves to establish a base at Agadir on the Atlantic coast of Morocco, Europe approached the verge of war; but Germany found the financial situation against her, backed down, and eventually took a strip of land on the Congo in liquidation of her Morocco claims.

For all her resolute saber-rattling in these years, Germany found herself checkmated in almost every move. The Monroe Doctrine, for which the United States showed willingness to fight in the Venezuela affair of 1902, balked her schemes in the New World. In the Far East she faced Japan; in Africa, British sea power. A "Drang nach Osten," through the Balkans and Turkey toward Asia Minor, offered on the whole the best promise; and it was in this quarter that Austria's violent demands upon Serbia aroused Russia and precipitated the World War.

Great Britain's foreign agreements, already noted, had as a primary aim the concentration of her fleet in home waters. Naval predominance in the Far East she turned over to Japan; in the western Atlantic, to the United States (at least by acceptance of the Monroe Doctrine and surrender of treaty rights to share in the construction of the Panama Canal); and in the Mediterranean, to France, though England still kept a strong cruiser force in this field. The old policy of showing the flag all over the world was abandoned, 160 old ships were sent to the scrap heap as unable "either to fight or to run away," and 88% of the fleet was concentrated at home, so quietly that it "was found out only by accident by Admiral Mahan."[1]

[Footnote 1: Admiral Fisher, MEMORIES, p. 185.]

These and other changes were carried out under the energetic regime of Admiral Fisher, First Sea Lord from 1904 to 1910. The British Dreadnought of 1906, completed in 10 months, and the battle cruisers of 1908—Indefatigable, Invincible and Indomitable—came as an unpleasant surprise to Germany, necessitating construction of similar types and enlargement of the Kiel Canal. Reforms in naval gunnery urged by Admiral Sir Percy Scott were taken up, and plans were made for new bases in the Humber, in the Forth at Rosyth, and in the Orkneys, necessitated by the shift of front from the Channel to the North Sea. But against the technical skill, painstaking organization, and definitely aggressive purpose of Germany, even more radical measures were needed to put the tradition-ridden British navy in readiness for war.

Naval preparedness was vital, for the conflict was fundamentally, like the Napoleonic Wars, a struggle between land power predominant on the Continent and naval power supreme on the seas. As compared with France in the earlier struggle, Germany was more dependent on foreign commerce, and in a long war would feel more keenly the pressure of blockade. On the other hand, while the naval preponderance of England and her allies was probably greater than 100 years before, England had to throw larger armies into the field and more of her shipping into naval service, and found her commerce not augmented but cut down.

Indeed, Germany was not without advantage in the naval war. As she fully expected, her direct sea trade was soon shut off, and her shipping was driven to cover or destroyed. But Germany was perhaps 80% self-supporting, was well supplied with minerals and munitions, and could count on trade through neutral states on her frontiers. Her shallow, well-protected North Sea coast-line gave her immunity from naval attack and opportunity to choose the moment in which to throw her utmost strength into a sortie. So long as her fleet remained intact, it controlled the Baltic by virtue of an interior line through the Kiel Canal, thus providing a strangle hold on Russia and free access to northern neutrals. Only by dangerous division of forces, or by leaving the road to England and the Atlantic open, could the British fleet enter the Baltic Sea. England it is true had a superior navy (perhaps less superior than was commonly thought), and a position of singular advantage between Germany and the overseas world. But for her the maintenance of naval superiority was absolutely essential. An effective interference with her sea communications would quickly put her out of the war.

The importance (for Germany as well as for England) of preserving their main fighting fleets, may explain the wariness with which they were employed. Instead of risking them desperately, both sides turned to commerce warfare—the Western Powers resorting to blockade and the Germans to submarines. Each of these forms of warfare played a highly important part in the war, and the submarine campaign in particular, calling for new methods and new instruments, seems almost to have monopolized the naval genius and energies of the two groups of belligerents. It may be noted, however, that but for the cover given by the High Seas Fleet, the submarine campaign could hardly have been undertaken; and but for the Grand Fleet, it would have been unnecessary.

The naval strength of the various belligerents in July, 1914, appears in the table on the following page.[1]

[Footnote 1: From table prepared by U. S. Office of Naval Intelligence, July 1, 1916.]

- Great Ger- U.S. Britain many (1916) France Japan Russia Italy Austria - - - - - Dreadnoughts 20 13 12 4 2 .. 3 3 - - - - - Pre-dreadn'ts 40 20 21 18 13 7 8 6 - - - - - Battle Cruisers 9 4 .. .. 2 .. .. .. - - - - - Armored Cr's 34 9 10 20 13 6 9 2 - - - - - Cruisers 74 41 14 9 13 9 6 5 - - - - - Destroyers 167 130 54 84 50 91 36 18 - - - - - Submarines 78 30 44 64 13 30 19 6 -

Owing to new construction, these figures underwent rapid change. Thus England added 4 dreadnoughts (2 built for Turkey) in August, 1914; the battle cruiser Tiger in November; the dreadnought Canada and 5 Queen Elizabeths in 1915; and 5 Royal Sovereigns in 1915-1916. In comparisons, full account is not always taken of the naval support of England's allies; it is true, however, that the necessity of protecting coasts, troop convoys, and commerce prevented her from throwing her full strength into the North Sea. Her capital ships were in two main divisions—the 1st or Grand Fleet in the Orkneys, and the 2d fleet, consisting at first of 16 pre-dreadnoughts, in the Channel. Admiral Jellico[1] gives the strength of the Grand Fleet and the German High Seas Fleet, on August 4, 1914, as follows:

[Footnote 1: THE GRAND FLEET, p. 31.]

Pre- Dread- Dread- Battle Light Destroyers Air- Cruisers noughts noughts cruisers cruisers ships - - - - - British 20 8 4 12 42 .. 9 German 13 16 3 15 88 1 2

Of submarines, according to the same authority, England had 17 of the D and E classes fit for distant operations, and 37 fit only for coast defense, while Germany had 28 U boats, all but two or three of which were able to cruise overseas. The British admiral's account of the inferiority of the British navy in submarines, aircraft, mines, destroyers, director firing (installed in only 8 ships in 1914), armor-piercing shells, and protection of bases, seems to justify the caution of British operations, but is a severe indictment of the manner in which money appropriated for the navy was used.

To open a war with England by surprise naval attack was no doubt an element in German plans; but in 1914 this was negatived by the forewarning of events on the Continent, by Germany's persistent delusion that England would stay neutral, and by the timely mobilization of the British fleet. This had been announced the winter before as a practical exercise, was carried out according to schedule from July 16 to July 23 (the date of Austria's ultimatum to Serbia), and was then extended until July 29, at which date the Grand Fleet sailed for Scapa Flow.

At midnight of August 4 the British ultimatum to Germany expired and hostilities began. During the same night the Grand Fleet swept the northern exit of the North Sea to prevent the escape of enemy raiders, only one of which, the Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse, actually reached the Atlantic in this first stage of the war. On a similar sweep further south, the Harwich light cruiser and destroyer force under Commodore Tyrwhitt sank by gunfire the mine layer Koenigin Luise, which a trawler had reported "throwing things overboard"; but the next morning, August 6, the cruiser Amphion, returning near the same position, was destroyed by two mines laid by her victim of the day before. On the same date five cables were cut leading from Germany overseas. From August 10 to 23 all British forces were busy covering the transit of the first troops sent to the Continent. Such, in brief summary, and omitting more distant activities for the present, were the opening naval events of the war.

The Heligoland Bight Action

On the morning of August 28 occurred a lively action in Heligoland Bight, which cost Germany 3 light cruisers and a destroyer, and seemed to promise further aggressive action off the German shores. The British plan called for a destroyer and light cruiser sweep southward to a point about 12 miles west of Heligoland, and thence westward, with submarines disposed off Heligoland as decoys, the object being to cut off German destroyers and patrols. Commodore Tyrwhitt's force which was to execute the raid consisted of the 1st and 3rd flotillas of 16 destroyers each, led by the new light cruiser Arethusa, flagship (28.5 knots, two 6", six 4" guns), and the Fearless (25-4 knots, ten 4" guns). These were to be supported about 50 miles to westward by two battle cruisers from the Humber. This supporting force was at the last moment joined by three battle cruisers under Admiral Beatty and 6 cruisers under Commodore Goodenough from the Grand Fleet; but news of the accession never reached Commodore Keyes of the British submarines, who was hence puzzled later by the appearance of Goodenough's cruisers on the scene.



The Germans, it appears, had got wind of the enemy plan, and arranged a somewhat similar counter-stroke. As Commodore Tyrwhitt's flotillas swept southward, they engaged and chased 10 German destroyers straight down upon Heligoland. Here the Arethusa and the Fearless were sharply engaged with two German light cruisers, the Stettin, and the Frauenlob (ten 4.1" guns each), until actually in sight of the island. Both sides suffered, the Frauenlob withdrawing to Wilhelmshaven with 50 casualties, and the Arethusa having her speed cut down and nearly every gun put temporarily out of commission.

Whipping around to westward, the flotillas caught the German destroyer V 187, which at 9.10, after an obstinate resistance, was reduced to a complete wreck enveloped in smoke and steam. As British destroyers picked up survivors, they were driven off by the Stettin; but two boats with British crews and German prisoners were rescued later by the British submarine E 4, which had been lurking nearby.

Extraordinary confusion now developed from the fact that Commodore Keyes in his submarine flotilla leader Lurcher sighted through the mist two of Goodenough's cruisers (which had chased a destroyer eastward), and reported them as enemies. The call was picked up by Goodenough himself, who brought his remaining four ships to Keyes' assistance; but when these appeared, Keyes thought that he had to deal with four enemies more! Tyrwhitt was also drawn backward by the alarm. Luckily the situation was cleared up without serious consequences.

German cruisers, darting out of the Ems and the Jade, were now entering the fray. At 10.55 the Fearless and the Arethusa with their flotillas were attacked by the Stralsund, which under a heavy fire made off toward Heligoland. Then at 11.15 the Stettin engaged once more, and five minutes later the Mainz. Just as this last ship was being finished up by destroyer attack, and the Stettin and two fresh cruisers, Koeln and Ariadne, were rushing to her assistance, Beatty's five battle cruisers appeared to westward and rose swiftly out of the haze.

Admiral Beatty's opportune dash into action at this time, from his position 40 miles away, was in response to an urgent call from Tyrwhitt at 11.15, coupled with the fact that, as the Admiral states in his report, "The flotillas had advanced only 2 miles since 8 a.m., and were only about 25 miles from two enemy bases." "Our high speed," the report continues, "made submarine attack difficult, and the smoothness of the sea made their detection fairly easy. I considered that we were powerful enough to deal with any sortie except by a battle squadron, which was unlikely to come out in time, provided our stroke was sufficiently rapid."

The Stettin broke backward just in the nick of time. The Koeln flagship of the German commodore, was soon staggering off in a blaze, and was later sunk with her total complement of 380 officers and men. The Ariadne, steaming at high speed across the bows of the British flagship Lion, was put out of action by two well-placed salvos. At 1.10 the Lion gave the general signal "Retire."



Though the German cruisers had fought hard and with remarkable accuracy of fire, their movements had been tardy and not well concerted. The British losses amounted altogether to only 33 killed and 40 wounded; while the enemy lost in killed, wounded, and prisoners over 1000 men. Very satisfactory, from the British standpoint, was the effect of the victory upon their own and upon enemy morale.

Encouragement of this kind was desirable, for German submarines and mines were already beginning to take their toll. Off the Forth on September 5, a single torpedo sank the light cruiser Pathfinder with nearly all hands. This loss was avenged when a week later the E 9, under Lieut. Commander Max Harton, struck down the German cruiser Hela within 6 miles of Heligoland. But on September 22, at 6.30 a.m., a single old-type German craft, the U 9, dealt a staggering blow. With a total of 6 torpedoes Commander Weddigen sank first the Aboukir, and then in quick succession the Hogue and the Cressy, both dead in the water at the work of rescue. The loss of these rather antiquated vessels was less serious than that of over 1400 trained officers and men. A shock to British traditions came with the new order that ships must abandon injured consorts and make all speed away.

In the bases at Rosyth and Scapa Flow, which at the outbreak of war were totally unprotected against submarines and thought to be beyond their reach, the Grand Fleet felt less secure than when cruising on the open sea. Safer refuges were sought temporarily on the west coast of Scotland and at Lough Swilly in the north of Ireland, but even off this latter base on October 27, the big dreadnought Audacious was sunk by mines laid by the German auxiliary cruiser Berlin. In view of the impending Turkish crisis, the loss was not admitted by the Admiralty, though since pictures of the sinking ship had actually been taken by passengers on the White Star liner Olympic, it could not long remain concealed. Mines and submarines had seemingly put the British navy on the defensive, even if consolation could be drawn from the fact that troops and supplies were crossing safely to France, the enemy had been held up at the Marne, the German surface fleet was passive, and the blockade was closing down.

Escape of the "Goeben" and the "Breslau"

In distant waters Germany at the outbreak of the war had only ten cruisers—Scharnhorst, Gneisenau, Emden, Nuernberg, and Leipzig in the Pacific, Koenigsberg on the east coast of Africa, Karlsruhe and Dresden in the West Indies, and Goeben and Breslau in the Mediterranean. Within six months' time, these, together with a few auxiliary cruisers fitted out abroad, were either destroyed or forced to intern in neutral ports. Modern wireless communication, difficulties of coaling and supply, and the overwhelming naval strength of the Allies made the task of surface raiders far more difficult than in previous wars. They were nevertheless skillfully handled, and, operating in the wide ocean areas, created a troublesome problem for the Western Powers.

The battle cruiser Goeben and the light cruiser Breslau alone, operating under Admiral Souchon in Mediterranean waters, accomplished ultimate results which would have easily justified the sacrifice of ten times the number of ships lost by Germany in distant seas. To hunt down these two vessels, and at the same time contain the Austrian Navy, the Entente had in the Mediterranean not only the bulk of the French fleet but also 3 battle cruisers, 4 armored cruisers, and 4 light cruisers of Great Britain. Early on August 4, as he was about to bombard the French bases of Bona and Philippeville in Algiers, Admiral Souchon received wireless orders to make for the Dardanelles. Germany and England were then on the very verge of war. Knowing the British ships to be concentrated near Malta, and actually passing the Indomitable and the Invincible in sullen silence as he turned eastward, the German commander decided to put in at Messina, Sicily.

At the end of the 24 hours granted in this port, the prospects for the German ships appeared so desperate that the officers, it is said, made their final testaments before again putting to sea. Slipping eastward through the Straits of Messina at twilight of the 6th, they were sighted by the British scout Gloucester, which stuck close at their heels all that night and until 4.40 p.m. the next day. Then, under orders to turn back, and after boldly engaging the Breslau to check the flight, Captain Kelly of the Gloucester gave up the pursuit as the enemy rounded the Morea and entered the Greek Archipelago.

The escape thus apparently so easy was the outcome of lack of coordination between French and British, slow and poor information from the British Admiralty, and questionable disposition of the British forces on the basis of information actually at hand. Prior to hostilities, it was perhaps unavoidable that the British commander, Admiral Milne, should be ignorant of French plans; but even on August 5 and 6 he still kept all his battle cruisers west and north of Sicily to protect the French troop transports, though by this time he might have felt assured that the French fleet was at sea. At the time of the escape Admiral Troubridge with 4 armored cruisers and a destroyer force barred the Adriatic; though he caught the Gloucester's calls, he was justified in not moving far from his station without orders, in view of his inferior strength and speed. Not until August 10 did British forces enter the AEgean; and at 5 p.m. that day the two German ships steamed uninvited up the Dardanelles. Since the Turkish situation was still somewhat dubious, Admiral Souchon had been ordered to delay his entrance; but on the 10th, hearing British wireless signals steadily approaching his position in the Greek islands, he took the decision into his own hands. Germany had "captured Turkey," as an Allied diplomat remarked upon seeing the ships in the Golden Horn.

In this affair the British, it is true, had many preoccupations—the hostile Austrian fleet, the doubtful neutrality of Italy, the French troop movement; the safety of Egypt and Suez. Yet the Admiralty were well aware that the German Ambassador von Wangenheim was dominant in Turkish councils and that the Turkish army was mobilized under German officers. It seems strange, therefore, that an escape into Constantinople was, in the words of the British Official History, "the only one that had not entered into our calculations." The whole affair illustrates the immense value political information may have in guiding naval strategy. The German ships, though ostensibly "sold" to the Turks, retained their German personnel. Admiral Souchon assumed command of the Turkish Navy, and by an attack on Russian ships in the Black Sea later succeeded in precipitating Turkey's entrance into the war, with its long train of evil consequences for the Western Powers.

Coronel and the Falkland Islands

In the Pacific the German cruisers were at first widely scattered, the Emden at Kiao-chau, the Leipzig on the west coast of Mexico, the Nuernberg at San Francisco, and the armored cruisers Gneisenau and Scharnhorst under Admiral von Spee in the Caroline Islands. The two ships at the latter point, after being joined by the Nuernberg, set out on a leisurely cruise for South America, where, in view of Japan's entry into the war, the German Admiral may have felt that he would secure a clearer field of operations and, with the aid of German-Americans, better facilities for supplies. After wrecking on their way the British wireless and cable station at Fanning Island, and looking into Samoa for stray British cruisers, the trio of ships were joined at Easter Island on October 14 by the Leipzig and also by the Dresden, which had fled thither from the West Indies.

The concentration thus resulting seems of doubtful wisdom, for, scattered over the trade routes, the cruisers would have brought about greater enemy dispersion and greater injury to commerce; and, as the later course of the war was to show, the loss of merchant tonnage was even more serious for the Entente than loss of fighting ships. It seems evident, however, that Admiral van Spee was not attracted by the tame task of commerce destroying, but wished to try his gunnery, highly developed in the calm waters of the Far East, against enemy men-of-war.

In its present strength and position, the German "fleet in being" constituted a serious menace, for to assemble an adequate force against it on either side of Cape Horn would mean to leave the other side dangerously exposed. It was with a keen realization of this dilemma that Admiral Cradock in the British armored cruiser Good Hope left the Falklands on October 22 to join the Monmouth, Glasgow, and auxiliary cruiser Otranto in a sweep along the west coast. The old battleship Canopus, with 12-inch guns, but only 12 knots cruising speed, was properly judged too slow to keep with the squadron. It is difficult to say whether the failure to send Cradock reenforcements at this time from either the Atlantic or the Pacific was justified by the preoccupations in those fields. Needless to say, there was no hesitation, after Coronel, in hurrying ships to the scene. On November 1, when the Admiralty Board was reorganized with Admiral Fisher in his old place as First Sea Lord, orders at once went out sending the Defense to Cradock and enjoining him not to fight without the Canopus. But these orders he never received.

The composition of the two squadrons now approaching each other off the Chilean coast was as follows:

- Name Type Displace- Belt Guns Speed ment armor - - - - Scharnhorst Armored cruiser 11,600 6-inch 8-8.2", 6-6" 23.5 Gneisenau Armored cruiser 11,600 6-inch 8-8.2", 6-6" 23.5 Leipzig Protected cruiser 3,250 none 10-4" 23 Nuernberg Light cruiser 3,450 none 10-4" 24 Dresden Light cruiser 3,600 none 10-4" 24 - - - - Good Hope Armored cruiser 14,000 6-inch 2-9.2", 16-6", 14-3" 24 Monmouth Armored cruiser 9,800 4-inch 14-6", 8-3" 24 Glasgow Light cruiser 4,800 none 2-6", 10-4" 26.5 - - - - Canopus (not engaged) Coast defense 12,950 6-inch 4-35 cal. 12", 12-6" 16.5 -

Without the Canopus, the British had perhaps a slight advantage in squadron speed, but only the two 9.2-inch guns of the Good Hope could match the sixteen 8.2-inch guns of the Germans. Each side had information of the other's strength; but on the afternoon of November 1, the date of the Battle of Coronel, each supposed that only one enemy cruiser was in the immediate vicinity. Hence there was mutual surprise when the two squadrons, spread widely on opposite courses, came in contact at 4.40 p. m.