In the meantime, the news of the North Sea incident had run about the world; democracy in England wanted war; and the occurrence of highly strained relations between Great Britain and Russia coinciding with the arrival of the Channel Fleet at Gibraltar, upon which the torpedo-boats were innocently making a night attack, might have resulted in their being mistaken for a real enemy. Fortunately no such catastrophe occurred. At seven o'clock upon the morning of the 24th, the Fleet was anchored in the harbour of Gibraltar; I learned the news; received my instructions by telegram, and made my dispositions.
On that day, peace and war hung in the balance. The Home, Channel and Mediterranean Fleets were instructed to act in concert, a detachment of the Mediterranean Fleet being ordered to reinforce the Channel Fleet at Gibraltar. The Russian Baltic Fleet was then proceeding to Vigo, a detachment of it being already at Tangier. On the following day (25th October) King Edward received a message from the Czar expressing the profound regret of his Imperial Majesty. It is a matter of history how the negotiations proceeded until an amicable settlement was arranged. The uncertainty, however, lasted until the 7th November.
It is a subject for thankfulness that there was no engagement. The Russian ships were so loaded with coal and stores that their upper-deck guns could not have been worked, and a fight would have been murder. Nor would war have been justified. The popular indignation was due to a misunderstanding, and the misunderstanding arose because the Russian admiral did not proceed to the nearest British port and explain the circumstances. If he believed that the Fleet was about to be attacked by torpedo craft, he was right to fire upon what he thought was the enemy, nor could he risk the time required to exchange recognition signals.
The result of the Russian admiral's mistake was to kindle a sudden resentment in this country which as nearly as possible forced a war between the two nations. It is one of the dangers inherent in the nature of democracy in all countries, that while democracy dislikes and hinders organisation and preparation for war, the moment that its vanity or self-respect is injured, democracy wants to fight. It is the impulse of the mob. The North Sea incident was one example of this disastrous tendency; the Spanish-American war was another.
But had war been most unfortunately declared by Great Britain in October, 1904, the Navy would have been quite ready. All it had to do was to proceed to the scene of operations. In this respect, it owns an advantage over the Army, because the Navy is always on active service, and does nothing in war which it is not doing every day in peace; if it is not fighting an enemy, it is fighting the elements; and whether in peace or in war, it goes to dinner at the same time. The Army, on the other hand, must do in war what it cannot do in peace; it changes from one condition to quite another; and the transition stage involves immense organisation, expense and discomfort.
In December, 1904, owing to the redistribution of the Fleet, the Channel Fleet became the Atlantic Fleet, which was under my command until the 5th March, 1905, when I hauled down my flag.
CHAPTER LI
BOAT RACING
The enthusiasm which I have always felt for the noble sport of rowing induced me, while in command of the Undaunted, to publish some notes on the subject of men-of-war pulling races, and how to win them, the substance of which is here reproduced, in the hope that they may still prove of use in the Service.
One of the results of steam and machinery having succeeded masts, yards and canvas in a man-of-war was the creation of greater interest in pulling races. The regattas held in different fleets and squadrons had become yearly events keenly looked forward to by both officers and men. This was very desirable, not only for the sake of the exercise which it encouraged (physical exercise of an arduous character being in a measure lost to the Service since the necessity for masts and yards had been so diminished) but, for the well-being and good feeling which healthful exercise invariably produces. Committees were formed, rules and regulations were laid down in a clear and business-like manner, and sums of money were given in prizes; which sums amounted on the Mediterranean Station to about £200 – £50 or £60 being given by the Malta Canteen, and the remainder being raised by subscription among the officers of the fleet.
Man-of-war boats, being built for fighting and weight carrying are different from boats built for racing purposes on fresh water; but the prize will generally be gained by the crew of the man-of-war boat which has carefully and consistently followed the fundamental principles upon which races pulled in racing boats on fresh water are won.
From the time the boat's crew is selected, until her stem has passed the winning-post, no detail which may add to the chance of a boat winning should be omitted, no matter how small it may appear.
In selecting a boat's crew, endeavour should be made to have the men near about the same height, in order to enable them all to take the same length of stroke with ease to themselves and to make their effort at the same moment. There should be no great disparity in their weights. The men all round should be a fairly level lot, which will make it easier for them to train as a whole. A crew resembles a chain, in that a crew is no stronger than its weakest man, just as a chain is no stronger than its weakest link. If a weak or an untrained man be placed in a boat, he will, soon after the start, throw extra work on the others. An indifferent crew of twelve men trained alike as to condition, length of stroke, and pulling accurately together, provided the boats are equal, will surely win a long race against a crew composed of ten vastly superior and two indifferently trained men. Similarly, a heavy boat with an indifferently sized crew, well trained, will undoubtedly beat a magnificent crew in a good boat, untrained.
A rule should be strictly enforced that individual members of one crew are not to be trained or to pull with another crew. It is very much the habit at men-of-war regattas to encourage the best oars in a ship to pull in two or three (sometimes in four or five) races. This practice is much to be deprecated, not only in the interest of the man himself, but in the interest of boat racing. If a man who pulls in several boats be laid up, he probably jeopardises the chances of winning several races.
The selection of a coxswain is a most important element in getting a crew together. He should be a man of a certain seniority, who commands attention, perfectly cool and collected, of good nerve and determination. Coxswains defective in these qualities have lost many races, and coxswains possessing them have just pulled off many races. The training of the crew must as a rule depend entirely on the coxswain. For a 12-oared boat he should always, in order to provide for contingencies, train at least two more men than the number required in the race.
For smaller boats he should always arrange to train more men than the actual crew; many races have been lost owing to this detail having been neglected, and one of the crew having broken down in his training just before the race.
After the crew is selected, the coxswain with their help and assistance should draw up certain rules in order to ensure constant and regular practice, as well as to avoid those hindrances to training to be found after frequent visits to the canteen. One or two men taking a glass of beer too much during training has indirectly been the cause of many a race being lost, owing to the loss of practice to the crew as a whole, and to the disturbance of that harmony which must exist if a boat's crew is to be thoroughly trained.
Whether it is from his early training, or from the heavy and clumsy nature of his oars, or from the weight of the boats he has to pull, the British bluejacket, as a rule, pulls the worst oar possible to enable him to stay and pull through to the end a well-contested long race. If he be left to himself, he sits bolt upright on his thwart, beginning his stroke from that position, and apparently under the impression that the expression "Bend your back" indicates that he should bend his back forward instead of bending it aft; and totally unconscious that when he falls back towards the bow he only pulls his weight, but that when he bends forward towards the stern he pulls his strength and his weight; and he usually holds the loom of his oar with bent arms, frequently giving one or two jerks during the stroke, the last one of which may bring his oar out of the water and feather it considerably above his shoulder. He sometimes adds to these movements a rocking motion from side to side, beginning by leaning towards the middle of the boat and then throwing himself towards the boat's side. He almost invariably has his head turned on his shoulder to see what his oar is doing, and he often wears a tight belt round his stomach. All these practices are entirely wrong and are totally opposed to a common-sense method of urging a boat at speed through the water.
When the boat's crew has been selected, the first duty of the coxswain is to show them how to pull and to ensure their motions being as one. Starting from their laying on their oars, he should make them stretch aft towards him as far as they can, with straight arms, sitting with their chests square to their oars, with their hands, not too far from and not too close to each other, firmly grasping the looms of the oars, with their arms at about right angles to the body and themselves looking the coxswain straight in the face (in river-pulling parlance "eyes in the boat"). It is impossible for a man to sit square to his oar if he is looking over his shoulder. The coxswain should begin practising his crew in the above position, without allowing them to catch the water until they are perfect.
The oars should catch the water with a firm and vigorous grip, absolutely simultaneously, the great effort of the man being made as the oar catches the water and not as it leaves it. The oar should b pulled through with a strong, steady, powerful stroke, no jerks whatever being given. A jerk bends or breaks an oar, but it does not send the boat ahead; and a man who pulls a steady stroke will stay three miles to the two miles of the man who jerks. The oar should never be feathered higher than is necessary. The oars should be feathered as level as possible with each other in order to ensure, as far as may be, that the blades of the oars catch the water absolutely together.
The coxswain should see that the crew wear no belts and that the waistbands of their trousers are loose about the waist. If a man's trousers are tight, they become irksome when he stretches aft as far as he can over his toes. Each one of these details requires the earnest and constant attention of the coxswain, and he should see that each movement is carried out slowly, deliberately, quietly and perfectly, before he begins to get his crew into hard training. Spurts should always be avoided until a crew is fit to pull a race. When the coxswain wishes to spurt he should warn the crew for a spurt, state loudly the number of strokes he wishes to spurt, and then count them distinctly as they are pulled. The crew will then all put forth their greatest effort together. A spurt of three strokes may win a race, in the event of one of the opposing boat's crew catching a crab, or their stroke becoming unequal, or one or more of them being for the moment jaded.
The usual method for training adopted by coxswains is, however, of a different character. They order the men to pull hard from the moment they form their crew; they pay not the slightest regard to the important details which must be attended to in order that any crew may have a chance of winning a strongly contested race; they appear to think that a boat's crew cannot be trained unless the coxswain oscillates his body with an excitement which apparently borders on insanity; and they accompany these oscillations with weird and nervous cries such as "Hup with her!" "Lift her!" "Hang on her!" "Back on her!" "Squeeze her!" "Heave on her!" and similar noises. It is well to cheer up a crew with vocal accompaniments to their strokes, but that is by no means the most important factor in enabling them to win.
As a crew proceeds in its training and becomes slowly and quietly fit, dumb-bells and running will be found useful auxiliaries to pulling, particularly if the regular practice is stopped while the ship is at sea, but on no account should a coxswain allow one of his boat's crew to be over-trained. He should inquire after the health of the crew every morning, and should be most careful that they do not get a chill or a cold after practice. Some men require more work than others to get them in hard condition; a good coxswain will attend to this point, and will be careful that all his boat's crew reach the starting-point in the pink of condition. He will also see that the thwarts are smooth and comfortable, the looms of the oars smooth and capable of being easily grasped, that the stretchers are secured so that they can neither slip nor carry away, and that every small detail (whose failure at the critical moment might jeopardise the chances of a race) is attended to. The coxswain must also attend to the incidentals of training, such as chafed sterns and blistered hands, which if not treated may incapacitate a man from pulling in a race. Chafing on the stern is best treated by fomenting with hot water and the application of zinc powder afterwards. Blisters on hands are best treated by pricking them with a needle in the live flesh just outside the blister, pressing the water out of it, and wearing a rag over the injury until the two skins have set together again. A coxswain should also attend to the feeding of his crew during training, as no man can ever be produced fit at the starting-post who is too much addicted to pudding.
There are two illustrations which exemplify the necessity for a man to lean well aft with straight arms when commencing his stroke: (1) If a man were holding on to a ridge-rope or other rope for his life, he would never hold on with his arms bent, but would keep them quite straight for the simple reason that he could hold on longer and stronger. (2) If a man, in a sitting position, wished to raise a weight, the pulley used being rove through a block at his feet, he would never dream of sitting upright prising with his feet and leaning back from the upright position, but he would bend forward well on his toes and pull with his strength and his weight. Tackles and weights were rigged in the Undaunted in order that the men might learn these truths by practice.
Another important matter for a coxswain is to see that the conditions on all points are clearly made out in writing before the race, and are signed by himself and the coxswain of the competing boat. The date, the time, the boats, the composition of the crew, the stakes, which should always be low (high stakes invariably lead to bad feeling) and which in no case should exceed 5s. per man and 10s. per coxswain; the precise course, i. e. the distance, and on which side, all marks, etc., are to be left, and also whether the oars are to be Service or private: all these things should be clearly defined. There has been more bad feeling bred between vessels owing to the want of such details having been clearly defined than to any other contingency that arises in boat racing. This is notably the case as to oars. Wherever it is possible a straight course should be selected, but if the length of the race does not admit of a straight course each boat should have its own separate buoy to round.
Coxswains should use every endeavour to get permission to have their boats hoisted for three or four days (with the exception of the time necessary for practice) before any forthcoming race in order to get the boat properly dry. They should get any ragged splinters planed off the keel, have all surplus paint scraped off and get the bottom of the boat as smooth as possible. They should also see the oars trimmed and exactly suited both by length and balance of weight to the small or great beam of the boat according to the thwart on which they are pulled.
Boat pulling is a healthy and a manly recreation, and if properly practised with friendly rivalry, can there be a doubt that it generates that activity of mind which is generally associated with activity of body? It also produces that courage, endurance, nerve and muscle which have so long been the distinctive features of the British race. It provokes a spirit of manliness, a generosity of mind and a love of fair play.
If all conditions are made out clearly and fairly, a beaten crew invariably accepts the verdict in a gallant and a chivalrous manner. After a race, no such remarks should be heard from the beaten crew as an offer to double or treble the stakes and pull again or words of similar character, showing either that the beaten crew cannot accept their defeat in a spirit worthy of the name of British man-of-war men, or that owing to the conditions of the race not having been clearly defined, some misunderstanding has arisen which has naturally engendered a bitter feeling in the minds of those who have just suffered the poignancy of defeat.
The training and practice which are necessary to put the boats' crews of men-of-war into that state of condition in which they may reasonably expect to win a race, must to a large extent cultivate those habits of discipline which are so essential for the comfort and efficiency of our great Service.
Admiral Sir George Tryon, while he was commander-in-chief in the Mediterranean, and while I was in command of the Undaunted, caused a boat to be specially built to race my boat. We had six races, all of which the Undaunted won. The Undaunted's racing boat was built flatter in the floor than the ordinary pattern of Service boats. One of the races with Sir George Tryon's boat was rowed in a whole gale of wind, over a course of four miles. The Undaunted's boat was half-full of water, and three of the knees of the thwarts were broken, when she crossed the line. This kind of racing is extremely heavy work, for the Service boats are massively built in order to carry weight, such as guns, stores ammunition. The oars are so heavy that there is nearly as much labour involved in lifting the oar from the water and coming forward as in pulling it through the water.
The admiral-superintendent's boat at Malta was never beaten. She was a beautiful boat, built by Maltese, and manned by a splendid Maltese crew. I raced her with my crew twice, once when I was captain of the Undaunted, and again when I was second in command in the Mediterranean (with flag in Ramillies), and lost the race on both occasions. In the second race, the Maltese, having the inside place resorted to the well-known manoeuvre of steering us off all the way up to the buoy and then turning sharply to round it.
While stationed at Alexandria during the time of my command of the Undaunted, we used to have a regatta open to all comers, any boat and any rig, every Friday. The Arab boats used to enter. Their great sail area and flat bottoms gave them a great advantage in running, or on the wind; but they could not tack. They were obliged to wear in a beat to windward, because their sail dipped before all. I beat them twice with a copy of Captain (now Admiral) Fitzgerald's racing rig, in the launch. A Service launch is of course built for heavy work and for carrying loads, such as supplies and ammunition. The Service rig has one mast, with mainsail and staysail, called the De Horsey rig. Captain Fitzgerald stepped the single mast aft, and fitted a bigger spar forward, equipped it with a big dipping lug, abolished the staysail, and used ballast. The object of the De Horsey rig was to give a sail equipment with as little gear as possible. Captain Fitzgerald's object was to race; and I may take this opportunity of saying that I consider Admiral Fitzgerald to have been the finest boat-sailer whom I have met in the Service.
When he was commander of the Agincourt in the Channel Squadron, he won the first Admiral's cup presented in the Navy, in 1872. In that year, Admiral Sir Geoffrey Hornby gave a cup to be sailed for by the boats of the Channel Squadron, being the first admiral to present a cup. The conditions, as described by Admiral Fitzgerald in his Memories of the Sea, were: "Any sails, any rig, any shaped false keel, but no sinking ballast; that is to say, the boat must float when full of water; and there is generally a handicap for size."
While I was commander of the Thunderer, I fitted the steam pinnace as a racing boat, taking out the engines and boilers and equipping her with a big cutter rig. The boat had a yacht section, but was without a heavy keel, so that I had to ballast her heavily. She went very fast in a light breeze, but when a puff came she would heel over and take in water. In case of accident, I ballasted her with a length of chain cable, shackled to ringbolts on her bottom, the other end made fast to a rope and a buoy. Rear-Admiral William Dowell, who was then second in command of the Channel Squadron (afterwards Admiral Sir William Montague Dowell, G.C.B.), challenged me to a race in Portland Harbour. Admiral Dowell sailed in his six-oared galley, which carried a private rig of two dipping lugs. I was confident of beating him, but the admiral knew better. He knew I should have to ease my sheets when the breeze freshened. At first I went away from him, but when I was just inside the breakwater, a puff came, over went the boat, and it went down under me. Dowell, seeing that I was swimming safely and that the boats of the Fleet were coming to pick me up, went on and won the race.
When I went to dine with him that night, he greeted me with:
"Last time I saw you, you were swimming about in the harbour."
In the meantime, owing to the device of ballasting my boat with chain cable and buoying the end of it, we were able to pick her up. The Thunderer came over the place where she was sunk, hauled the cable up to the hawse pipe, and hove the boat to the surface.
My old friend, Admiral Sir William Montague Dowell G.C.B., was a most distinguished officer. He served in the China war, 1840-1, served as gunnery lieutenant of the Albion in the Black Sea, and was promoted for services with the Naval Brigade at Sevastopol; served again in China, in 1857, being present at the capture of Canton; commanded the Barrosa in the straits of Simonoseki, 1864, being specially mentioned; received the C.B. for services in Japan. He was A.D.C. to the Queen; commanded the West Coast of Africa and Cape of Good Hope Station, 1867-71; after having been second in command of the Channel Squadron, senior officer on the Coast of Ireland, and vice-admiral in command of the Channel Squadron, he was temporarily attached to the Mediterranean Fleet and served in the Egyptian war of 1882, receiving the K.C.B., and the thanks of the House of Commons. He was afterwards commander-in-chief in China, and subsequently commander-in-chief of Devonport. He was one of the Three Admirals who framed the Report upon the Naval Manoeuvres of 1888, in which were formulated the principles of British naval supremacy.
I won many races in a Una boat, the Weasel, built at Cowes, during the time of my command of the royal yacht Osborne. The Prince of Wales built a similar boat. Prince Louis of Battenberg, steering the Prince's boat, beat me in a most exciting race, in which the betting was long odds on my boat. The fact was, that trying to be very clever, I put too much ballast in the boat, and so lost the race.
CHAPTER LII
THE MEDITERRANEAN STATION
Forty-four years had elapsed since I was a midshipman in H.M.S. Marlborough, flagship in the Mediterranean, when I hoisted my flag in H.M.S. Bulwark as commander-in-chief upon that station, in June 1905. Those changeful years had seen the Old Navy out and the New Navy in; their revolutions had transformed the whole material aspect of the Navy; and the essential spirit of the Navy, adapting itself to new conditions remained unaltered. One result, perhaps inevitable, of the swift progress of scientific invention, was that the public attention was concentrated upon purely material matters regarding the Navy as a fighting machine automatically operated; and conceiving of officers and men as workers in a factory, who had nothing to do but to press buttons and to manipulate levers. This unfortunate delusion was fostered by the politicians, who were quick to use it for their own ends.
The Mediterranean Fleet consisted of Bulwark (flag), Formidable, Implacable, Irresistible, London, Prince of Wales, Queen, Venerable (flag of second in command, Vice-Admiral Sir Harry T. Grenfell, K.C.B., C.M.G., and afterwards of Rear-Admiral Francis C. B. Bridgeman, M.V.O.); three attached cruisers, three special service vessels; the Third Cruiser Squadron, Leviathan, (flag of Rear-Admiral the Hon. Hedworth Lambton, C.V.O., C.B.), Carnarvon, Lancaster, Suffolk, two attached ships, and 22 destroyers.
The Staff consisted of: chief of staff, Captain Frederick C. D. Sturdee, C.M.G, M.V.O.; flag-commander, Fawcet Wray; flag-lieutenant, Charles D. Roper (signal officer); flag-lieutenant, Herbert T. C. Gibbs; secretary, Fleet Paymaster John A. Keys; engineer-captain, Edwin Little; intelligence officer, Major John M. Rose, R.M.A. The flag-captain was Osmond de B. Brock; the commander Hugh P. E. T. Williams.
The Mediterranean is the finest training station in the world; and it is the more to be regretted that the Mediterranean Fleet is always so deficient in numbers, that Fleet training must be conducted at a disadvantage. Eight battleships represent the smallest practicable unit for tactical purposes, nor does that number allow sufficient margin for the necessary deductions due to the absence of ships under repair or refitting. Upon one occasion, six out of the eight were absent under repair at one time, and in all cases the absence was unavoidable.
The eight battleships required twenty attached cruisers, as compared with the three allocated. Although improvements had been effected, the Fleet in 1905 was still deficient in auxiliaries, such as fleet colliers, repair ships, depot ships.
The popular and political delusion that under modern conditions the duties of the naval officer have become mechanical is so far from the reality, that, in truth, they have never been more complex and onerous; nor is it possible that they should be rightly performed in war, in default of the most assiduous practice in peace. It is thus the business of an admiral constantly to exercise the Fleet both collectively and individually; and as the discharge of that duty tasks his energies to the utmost, there is little to record during a sea command except the cruises, exercises and manoeuvres which constantly occupy a Fleet.
In June, 1905, for instance, the Mediterranean Fleet left Malta and proceeded upon a cruise; met the Atlantic Fleet at the end of July; exercised combined manoeuvres with the Atlantic Fleet; proceeded upon another cruise, and so on; never going to sea without practising some exercise or manoeuvre. All exercises and manoeuvres of importance were treated in a memorandum, in which was explained the lessons to be learned from them, and which was circulated to the officers of the Fleet.
Every morning when the Fleet was at sea, except on Sundays and in very bad weather, small tactical and turning movements were executed from 7.30 to 8 a.m., the movements of each individual ship being carried out by the officer of the watch, all lieutenants taking it in turn to relieve the deck, and being put in charge of the ship for this period of time. The captains did not interfere in the handling of the ship, unless the officer of the watch placed the ship, or a consort, in a position of danger. The lieutenants themselves made out the commander-in-chief's signals and their purport without the assistance of the captain or of the yeoman of signals. Officers of the watch were informed that they need not be afraid of making a mistake; for, everyone was liable to make a mistake; and the rest of the Fleet learned more when an error occurred than when all went smoothly and correctly.
During the forenoons, there was usually practised some short manoeuvre in which an admiral or a captain took charge of the Fleet, and manoeuvred it as he pleased, the commander-in-chief reserving to himself the right to negative any signal which he might consider dangerous or useless. After the admirals and captains had manoeuvred the Fleet as a whole, it was divided into opposing Fleets, officers, selected by the commander-in-chief, taking charge of these Fleets. Each squadron endeavoured to gain the initial position or advantage. Once that position was obtained, the Fleets were ordered to separate, and two other officers respectively took charge of the opposing squadrons.